COMPLETED. "What are you?" he asks, his deep melodious voice vibrating in my ears. I refuse to show him any weakness, any fear at all. I stare into those endless eyes. "I don't know..." my body is covered in shivers when he lights up in rage and punches the brick wall behind me, creating a perfect dented hole, as if the wall was made of plaster. "Don't test me, princess," he hisses, bending further in towards me. "You have no idea what I could do to you." he licks his lips, and I have just enough time to catch a glimpse of pointy teeth before a raging pain slices through my neck. ............... Emma Sanders is a seventeen-year-old girl, moving to a foreign town, one of those that you wouldn't find on a map, except maybe if you measured it by inches. But a secretive group of blood, fangs, and mystery has her attention, and it would destroy anything in its path to figure out what she really is. ............... Copyright 2014 - Sophia Kjeldbjerg No part of this story may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted to anyone. It cannot be transmitted or copied by any means - such as by electronic devices, photocopies, recordings, mechanics or any other forms - without prior written permission from the author. Copying this story is a violation of the copyright law.

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.