Matter of Life and Death (New Version) ~ Chapter 02

Chapter 2:

~ Brian~

Their house had a cellar. It was more like a bomb shelter, built sometime during world war two. They had picked it specifically for it. Many houses had such shelters underneath them in this village, and some of them were even communicating with each other. They made a perfect escape route.

He dragged Sylva upstairs, making sure they didn’t go through the living room; he couldn’t let her see their mother. He wasn’t sure if he could look at her either. He didn’t want to find out if he could handle it. He told his sister to get a few clothes and get out of there. He went to get some from his own room too. He threw random jeans and tees into an old, mud encrusted backpack, sloppily put on a pair of sneakers and exited. He noticed that he was limping. The pain in his leg was becoming unbearable.

Mom is dead, mom is dead, he kept repeating to himself. He was kind of hoping it would numb him, like it had when his dad had died. It didn’t. They were just three empty words, he was saying over and over again.

Sylva let out a small shriek and Brian forgot all about his leg right away, making a mad dash for her bedroom. A silver figure was hovering above the girl, staring at her with deep piercing eyes and showing her the most disgusting side of being dead. Brian had seen plenty of nasty, and honestly, this dead man was from the worst. He covered Sylva's eyes with his hand to keep her from staring at the patches of cut skin that hung from his face, as he tried to keep back a wave of nausea himself.

Sylva called ghosts Shadow People. It sounded nicer like that somehow. Luisa wasn’t intending to explain to her anything about what she was and what she could do yet. Brian remembered what it was like for himself. When he was young it was simply fascinating, the magickal figures only he could see. As he grew, they began tormenting him and he had to learn the mechanics of the world he was born to live in. Brian refused to have Sylva find that out so young. She could call them Shadow People for as long as she liked.

He forced the dead spirit away. “Go!” he growled. The awful man bared his teeth at him and flung himself through the wall.

Just that moment it occured to Brian that his five-year-old sister couldn’t pack any things on her own, even if the ghost hadn’t tried to give her the scare of her life. He packed a few things for her: shirts and a couple of dresses, pants and her raincoat. In a last minute inspiration he added in a pencil case and a sketchbook. Her favorite blanket would have to stay here. It was ruined, soaked with Brian’s blood.

He picked her up, put the two bags over his shoulder and after a very short stop in Luisa’s bedroom to get the number of her bank account, they were back in the kitchen. He curled the carpet’s corner, revealing the wooden trapdoor. He took a flashlight from the kitchen counter. The steps leading down to the empty cellar were made of bare cement that no-one had bothered to cover with tiles, wood or anything else. Brian had planned to do that after fixing the garden. He looked at them suspiciously. Calling them uneven would be an understatement.

He took a deep breath and went down, each step sending a new shock of pain through his leg. He gritted his teeth and made sure Sylva held on tightly. By the corner on the cellar’s left, was the passage, connecting it to Marta’s home. They couldn’t get out from their own house. As soon as they found his mother’s body they would be on the search for him. But through her house… There were no signs of him being able to get to his aunt’s house if he never got out of his. And not many people knew about the trapdoors and the bomb shelters in town.

Roots and soil had found their way into the sloppily dug tunnel, keeping Brian from moving in a straight course. With his aching leg he got tangled into roots spurting out of the ground, and multiple times he almost slipped on moss or these gross fungi that some people even ate; mushrooms.

After what felt like an hour’s walk through the tunnels, he reached Marta’s cellar. It was different and filled with bags full of dog food. No, his aunt wasn’t a lunatic who liked having dog food for breakfast. Or a dog. It was worse. She was a dog walker. “Mind you, dog trainer,” she’d yell, every time Brian called her that.

“Hey, guys,” she said as the trapdoor opened, too busy taking care of a puppy. “Your mom was here just a few hours ago.”

“I… know…” her nephew agreed, out of breath. He set Sylva down on the floor and she run to check out the little dog. He stopped to take a few deep breaths, gathering strength before trying to push himself up through the opening.

Marta, out of enough dogs to train in this little place, was left with nothing better than running a non-profit kennel for the dogs of the area. She picked up strays from the street, kept them there and found them a house when she could. She had been renting that old barn, which was perfect for the dogs. She had converted the attic into a house and that was where all her things were.

“Oh my!” She stared at Sylva, out of words. Brian hadn’t seen his sister in the lamplight until now. She was stained with red all over. “Wh- what happened?” she stuttered.

“We were attacked. Sylva is alright. It’s not her blood.” Brian’s voice turned cold, emotionless. His aunt set down the puppy to help him out of the trapdoor. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but leaned on her anyway.

“Yeah, I see. Your leg looks wonderful,” she muttered, sarcasm lacing her voice.

Marta led Brian to the nearest seat, a tattered sofa that appeared to have been tortured by dogs mercolessly over and over again. He smirked and rolled up his jeans to inspect the cut more closely. He could see his aunt's awkward stare on the torn flesh of his wound, as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.

“Where’s Luisa? Is she picking things up? Your mother always says she has packed a few things in case of emergency, but she always ends up staying behind to pack more. She never learns!” she rambled nervously, trying to laugh.

“It’s not black. At least it wasn’t their claws,” Brian thought out loud, trying to change the direction this conversation was taking. Sylva's attention had shifted from the puppy to the two of them. Not good.

“So, where is she?” Marta repeated.

“Do you remember what we told you about their claws? If they get you, you’re dead. The wound won’t heal, not even by magick. The blood that drips turns black as the poison spreads all over your body,” Brian continued. She had to get the message at some point, wouldn't she?

“Thank you very much for the reminder, but you’re not answering my question.” She placed her hands on her hips, tapping her foot annoyed on the tiled floor, looking uneasily at the dried blood that framed the cut. She looked a little queasy. “Actually, you know what? I think I'll call her and see what's taking so long.”

Brian's eyes narrowed infrustration. Apparently the blond jokes were popular for some reason. Some blondes just made it so easy. Like Marta for instance. He turned his attention to his sister. “Sylva?”

The girl turned look at Brian.

“Please, go and clean your face and hands and get me a towel from the bathroom, can you?”

She nodded and climbed up the stairs to the attic. As soon as she was out of sight, Brian looked his aunt straight in the eyes.

“So? Where is she? Where are we going next? Brian?”

“Will you shut up and pay attention to what I've been trying to very discreetly make obvious for a while now?!” he hissed under his breath.

She looked at him with her big, blue eyes, so innocently that he wanted to smack her in the head to bring her back to the real world. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Are you this stupid?!” Brian hissed under his breath. “Stop asking about Mom!” He felt his lips trembling at the last word, and he looked down, trying to regain his cold demeanor.

“What?” Marta breathed out the word, so quietly that Brian couldn’t tell if she’d really spoken.

Brian sighed and sucked in a breath, which turned to a hiss as his leg started bleeding worse and burned at the touch of the rough jeans against it. “She's not going to join us, Marta,” Brian said with a grave look on his face.

Marta's expression changed into something Brian didn't quite understand. Then he saw her eyes water. That he could understand. Feeling his lower lip trembling again, he looked down, trying to recompose himself. Where was his insensitivity when he needed it?

“No!” Marta yelled, and Brian wanted to get up and shut her mouth. He'd done such a good job of keeping Sylva from figuring out what had happened and he couldn't let his aunt ruin it all.

“Will you be quiet?!” he demanded, his voice cold, bare of any emotion. “Sylva doesn't know about this. And it should stay that way.”

A sob shook Marta's body, and her face was turning a bright shade of red. “I...what are you talking about? How can she not...? Luisa is...and you can't hide that from her!” She knew better than to yell, but her eyes were looking at him accusingly anyway.

“Can't I?” Brian asked calmly. “Well, watch me!”

“You...” she started, probably prepared to say all sorts of insulting things to him, but stopped, the words stuck at her throat. She swallowed back a sob, brushed an arm over her crying eyes and straightened her back. She focused on the bleeding wound on Brian's leg instead. “This needs stitches,” she said, sounding more composed than she felt.

“Oh, since when did you become a doctor?” Brian snarled.

Without another word, Marta left, headed over to a counter and retrieved a first aid kit from a cupboard. She made her way back with her feet stomping and her lips turned into a thin line, as if she tried nit to burst into tears again. She pulled a bottle of Betadine out of the kit, soaked some cotton with in and pressed it against his leg. Brian let out an angry hiss and clutched the arm of the sofa to keep himself from jerking away.

“That hurts,” he growled.

“If you have a better idea, I'd be happy to hear it. Oh, maybe I've got one! Let's let your leg get infected, rot and fall off, huh? And I won't have to waste my bandages on you that way. It's not like you're gonna need the leg much anyway.” With that, she pressed the cotton against his leg harder, probably on purpose, and removed it, making it sting even worse as air made contact.

“You're not even funny,” Brian managed between gritted teeth.

Just at that moment, Sylva came down the stairs to the attic, her little feet barely making a sound. With a wide smile she handed over her brother a small white towel. Brian ruffled her hair and placed a kiss on her forehead. For a second, all his roughness was gone. “Thank you, baby girl.”

“I'm not a baby!” Sylva exclaimed, giggling.

Marta was focusing on wrapping Brian's leg with bandages and was done before he had the chance to send another snappy comment her way. “You're ready,” she muttered and shut the first aid kit with a loud, angry thud.

“Okay, good.” He placed a hand on the back of the sofa, looking for support as he pushed himself up. Stabs of pain shot through his leg but he only winced and kept quiet. “Sylva, we're leaving.”

“What?!” Marta yelled. “You can't be serious.”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

Marta looked at him sternly. “You're not going anywhere.”

“Wanna bet?!” he snapped at her, and went to pick up Sylva. A small but firm hand kept him from lifting the girl off the ground. “What are you doing?”

Something had changed in his aunt's expression. She looked in control...she looked like an adult. “The door is open for you to go wherever uou wish. Sylva though, will stay with me.”

“What are you talking about?” He tried to keep his voice as controlled as possible. He was on the verge of snapping at her.

“I am Sylva's legal guardian in case Luisa...” She paused, looking for the right words to use so that the little girl, who was paying close attention to both of them, wouldn't realise her mother was dead. So Marta did listen to him after all. “Anyway, isn’t around for some reason. Like now.” She rubbed her niece's shoulder gently. “We’ll be spending some time together, huh?”

Sylva gave Marta a wide smile and turned to look at Brian. Confusion and frustration were struggling for dominance on his face. “I don't understand what you're getting at.”

“I'll be very clear about this, and I'm saying this only once. Sylva doesn't go anywhere alone with you, or I’ll call the police and report her kidnapping.”

Brian's eyes grew huge from shock. “You wouldn't!”

Sylva glanced up at them confused, but soon enough, the little puppy came to lick her hand and she run after it, chasing it around the barn.

Marta approached Brian dangerously. “Look, you're not the only one who cares about her. But with her mother...gone, I'm not letting you take her and run off in the wild on your own! You're just a child yourself!”

“I. Am. Not. A. Child,” he growled. “And there's absolutely no way she’ll stay here. They're going to look again. They’ll find her, kill you and then take her. I'm not going to let that happen.”

“Then I guess you'll have to take me with you.”

Brian made an odd sound, which Marta soon realized that was bitter laughter. “You? And what are you supposed to do with us? You're no necromancer!” Somehow, the gene had skipped his aunt. They came from an old, pure-blooded Necromancer family, so it was more than a little unusual. But it was a fact. Marta was hundred percent human.

“No. Maybe I’m not.” Her eyes glowed with something… Hurt. Hurt because Brian rejected her. Didn’t she get it? He don’t have time to be nice at such times! Or when it came to him…at no times. “Sylva is staying. Or you take both of us with you.” The point was to get Sylva away, not himself. It would take them weeks to spot him. But so much fresh and uncontrollable power like Sylva’s was easy to be sensed from miles away. “But what do you suggest that I do even if you two go? Suppose you manage to drive in the state you’re in, should I make some tea and sit while waiting for them to get to me? Right.”

She was right. Of course she was. He couldn’t leave her behind either. They’d kill her for sure. He may not be on the best terms with Marta, but he most certainly didn’t want her dead. “Fine. If you get killed, it won’t be my fault.” She gasped and gave him a strict look. “I had to give you fair warning. Don’t hold me responsible for what you caused yourself.”

“I don’t know where you got all that insensibility from.”

“Maybe my dad. You know, the guy mom was married to and gave us up as soon as he realized what we were?”

Marta liked his dad. She thought he was the right guy for Luisa. She held on to her belief until he freaked and ran off. As a matter of fact, Brian was pretty sure it was Marta’s idea that his mom told his dad about the whole Necromancer thing. His aunt’s lips became a thin straight line and she gave him a cold look. Under normal circumstances, he was slightly nicer and she was more tolerant. Aware of the pain in his leg now, he wasn’t really in the mood to be nice and keep his manners in check. “But we have to go. Now.”

“Absolutely not. Sit,” she commanded. She pushed his shoulder gently, and he felt his knees buckle, dropping him on the sofa behind him. It was only the tension keeping him standing and he knew it. What would happen when the adrenaline rush went away?

“Are you serious? Give me the car keys, we have to go!”

“We aren’t going anywhere tonight. They won’t strike again tonight, will they? If you and Sylva got to escape, L-l-l…” Marta’s voice trembled, but she swallowed back her tears and continued. “Luisa must have pushed them off for the time. That gives us a little longer to prepare ourselves.”

Brian held back the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s not just them. With the B-O-D-Y in the house, the police will start looking, at least for Sylva and me. We can’t be here when they do!”

“There’s absolutely no way they’ll realize something is wrong at least until dawn. And you’re a bad mess. You can’t even stand. How far do you suppose you can go like this?”

Brian shook his head. Honestly? He had no idea. He hoped he’d take Marta’s car, drive up to a point. Spend the rest of the night at some shabby Rooms-To-Let sort of place. Then they’d go to the train station. He rubbed his face tiredly. “I wouldn’t have to drive too much. We’re leaving the country.”

“What?!” Marta squeaked. “Will you stop dropping bombs like this and finally tell me the whole plan? Where are we going?”

Brian massaged his temples, trying to keep away the headache that was creeping up to him. It was probably because of the loss of blood. “Well, considering we’re already in Macedonia, and taking a plane from the airport at Thessaloniki will leave our flight data as traces, I think Bulgaria is the best option.”

“B-b-bulgaria?” she stuttered.

Brian nodded wearily. “You speak Bulgarian flawlessly. I know some. Sylva is still young, she’ll be a quick study. And you know how the checks are at the borders. They barely check the passports or ID’s. They won’t even remember we went through.”

“But…” Marta stopped, letting out a big sigh. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“All I’ve thought through is that we can take the train to Blagoevgrad. It’s a nine hour ride from Thessaloniki.”

“And then?” Marta insisted.

“I suppose you’ll walk dogs, I’ll find something else to do. We keep quiet, try to make a life, like we’ve been doing so far.” He got up, the nerves being too much for him to sit still. Pain shot through him the moment he put weight on his leg, but he didn’t intend to let Marta see that.

“Brian. Sit. Now,” she ordered, weighting him carefully.

He groaned and limped to the closest chair. “Don’t boss me around!”

“Why? Are you going to leave? Because I know you won’t, so don’t threaten me.”

Now that he was sitting, sinking in the old pillows of the sofa, and the exhaustion and the pain were taking over, he started to feel what energy was left in him slipping away and wondered how much longer he could remain conscious. What used to be a trace of dizziness had turned into a huge headache. His whole head throbbed as he tried to get his bearings.

The silver smoky figures danced before his sight, their eyes glowing blue, green and brown like precious gems. They all stared at him, wanting the same. To touch some life. Some of the real world. He couldn’t give it to them though. Not that he wanted to. The matters of the dead were none of his business. What he had to do was hold on to his own life; and to keep his sister alive. In the shadows, he knew that his mom and dad must have been somewhere; maybe they had something to say, maybe not.

Brian had been seeing his dad a lot since they killed him. He never let him tell him whatever it was he wanted. He still didn’t. As said, the matters of the dead were none of his business. Just like he wouldn’t get involved with his mother now that she was gone as well. She was free to enjoy afterlife, she had to leave him struggle here alone. It was their way. She used to know it better than everyone. They had no choice about it.

“Brian. Brian, can you hear me?” Marta’s voice brought him back from his thoughts and he tried to focus. He lifted his head and looked at her. “You need to lie down.”

“I’m fine. We need to leave,” Brian insisted.

“We went over this already. You spend the night here. Come.” She tried to help him stand up but he moved away. Marta looked at her nephew, but took a few steps back, giving him space to try and stand on his own. To his disappointment, he couldn’t. After a couple of swaying steps, he leaned on her and she helped him walk up the stairs to the attic, and from there to the small bed by the wall. “That leg wouldn’t even get you out the door,” she said.

I opened my mouth to tell her something, but that something never came.

“Shhh. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” he managed to get out, although he was already making himself comfortable under the covers.

“You need the bed more than me. I’ll take the couch downstairs.”

He gave her a brief nod before closing his eyes. He sunk into unconsciousness soon. In his sleep, he felt Sylva crawling under the covers with him and curling under his arm. The warmth pulsating from her body was comforting. She was lucky. So much energy, uncontrollable and unfocused, didn’t attract the dead…yet. She could sleep quietly. As soon as she learned how to focus and concentrate her power, she’d have the same problem as Brian.

He hated when he had to sleep. For a period of time, he had tried consuming excessive amounts of caffeine in hopes he wouldn’t need sleep at all, but in week number two, he had hit his breaking point. For necromancers sleep wasn’t like it was for humans. Honestly, for Brian, nothing was easy. The only time he’d feel no pain would probably be when he’d die. He got that thought a lot. But of course, he couldn’t die yet; he had to keep Sylva safe.

The ghosts didn’t leave him when he slept, they kept showing up, pushing themselves into his messy dreams, trying to trick him in disguises of people I knew, trying to touch his heart for a few seconds, to feel the warmth of life. The dead were such a pain. Today, even more than the usual bunch had gathered, thinking that catching him at a moment of vulnerability would give them a better chance. He dismissed them one by one, until the time came that he had to wake up again and face the cruel world of the living. Honestly, why wasn’t there a separate world for the necromancers? It would have made his life so much easier!

The morning light hit his eyes, causing him to squeeze them tightly together and press the pillow over his head, groaning in dismay. As he began remembering everything that took place last night, an ever-growing need to get up overtook him. When the real reason everything had happened last night hit him, he threw himself off the bed, only to end up off balance due to his stupid, injured leg and ended up with his cheek against the floor.

“Woof!” One of Marta’s dogs sniffed Brian and licked his nose. A growl escaped his throat and the puppy rushed away scared.

“Scaring puppies now, Brian? That’s not nice.” As the boy looked up, and quickly lifted his body from the ground, he saw Marta standing by the bed, arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on her face.

“Cut it out. You know that because of you, I never managed to get away in time. And today it’s too late, they’ll have found her body and they’ll be looking all over the place for us!” he snapped at her.

Sylva stirred in the bed and looked at her brother sleepily with her big eyes. The color, this haunting silver, would remind him forever what I didn’t manage to do; keep his mom alive. This silver would remind him every day why he had to keep myself alive. To keep Sylva alive. Because her life mattered more than anyone’s; even his own. And if he had to die defending her, so be it. “What body? Whewe’s momma?”

“She…Sylva, we’ll find mom later.” A lot later hopefully. “I’ll explain it all to you at some point, but for the time being, we need to get away from here. Mom will meet up with us later.”

Marta gave Brian an accusing look. She hated dishonesty; she couldn’t understand how bad it would be if Sylva became even more upset. It was vital to keep her emotions at bay; he couldn’t have this gigantic ticking bomb roaming around along with him. She had to be kept stable. She had to be kept calm. For the time being, he had to shut up. He shrugged and as Sylva sank her little head in the pillow again, he placed a finger over his lips, motioning for Marta to keep quiet. Relatives or not, humans had no clue what a Necromancer’s life were about.

“Just so you know, I visited the bank last night, while you were dead to the world. I got as much as I could. It’s in your bag already.”

“Oh. Thanks. I...appreciate it…thanks.”

“You may lack that same sensibility chip your dad did, but you’re still my nephew. That’s the least I can do for you. It is what your mother would have expected me to do. How’s the leg?”

“I’m going to walk like I’m a wrecked fifty-year-old soldier who served in Vietnam for the next few weeks, but other than that…great! Thanks for reminding me.”

“Still a jerk.” She sighed, but he could see a faint smile on her face. Luisa’s ghost was floating around her, piercing silver eyes looking at Brian over Marta’s shoulder.

For now and only now, he thought, he could break my rules about not mixing the world of the dead and the living and mention his mom. “She’s right behind you, you know. Better be nice to her son.”

Marta snorted. “Cute necromancer humor.”

“Cute…Only to you. But…she’s really there.”

“Thought you weren’t allowed to talk about the…deceased. Isn’t it like medical confidentiality or something? What you learn stays between you and them…? That’s how Luisa used to tell it.” His mom used to simplify things and use human terms for her sister to understand her world. It was pretty hilarious actually.

“Yeah, sort of. Thought you may want to know though. I think I can overlook the rules for once. It’s not like I’m trying to talk to them or anything.”

She nodded in understanding. Luisa appeared to make some motion, he was supposed to notice, but instead he averted his eyes, trying to focus on my aunt’s blond locks. She had fair skin like his mom, which reminded Brian of porcelain dolls, and aqua blue eyes. Brian’s were silver, like his mom’s and Sylva’s, but if you looked at them in the light they resembled Marta’s a little. The similarities between them were obvious, same facial structure, the same straight nose and almond-shaped eyes. He was way more fit than anybody else in the family though; it was odd how he was the only one who had the brains to think that since they were on the run constantly they had to be in condition to run.

“Thank you,” she said after a long pause of silence. “So where are you going? Can you drive with that leg?”

“We can’t drive too far or they’ll notice the car. It would be better if you get us to the train station and we’ll use public transport from there.  Easier to blend in.”

“What? So being on a train that won’t reach its destination after six hours if not more have passed is safer than a car? If they follow us in the train? Won’t we be trapped?”

He shook his head, a grim laughter escaping his chest. “They hate constant, long rides. They feel trapped. They won’t try using the train, even if it were to catch us. That is their disadvantage. They take care of themselves more than their plans. We’re using that for our own profit. How do you think mom escaped them for this long?”

“And yet, look where she ended up,” Marta said gloomily.

“We all end up there eventually. Don’t forget that.”

“Alright, grams.” Marta laughed. She always teased her sister and him when they spoke like that. She thought they were doing it on purpose, trying to play it all wise and Zen, or something.

“We need to get going soon.”

“Let her sleep a little longer. It’s been a long night,” she said gently. She looked at Sylva affectionately, the way his mom used to. He knew that she felt it was her duty to take care of his little sister, but he couldn’t let her come with them. He may have given in last night, but he was hurt and exhausted and not in his right state of mind. She was human! She’d be dead before he could say necromancer.

“Don’t even think about asking.”

“Why?” she moaned.

How well did I know my aunt! “No. Just no. And you know very well why. It will be hard enough protecting Sylva, who can essentially protect herself, but just doesn’t know it yet.  But you…I can’t protect you both.”

“You’re such a buzz killer, Brian. You know, your father was left unprotected with full knowledge about your kind, and look where he is now.”

“We all go there eventually,” he said again.

“Is it that bad that I don’t want to go there this soon? I believe I still have plenty of years to live. It’s not that I have fear of death, but…you know.”

She had a pretty strong point there. It would be mean if he left her here, in her fate, which was probably exactly that, her death, if they hadn’t left town yet. Brian buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I got myself into this. Why didn’t I just walk out the front door? I’d be miles away by now.”

“Is that a yes?” she asked, hands on her hips and leaning against the door frame smiling.

Brian clenched my teeth, not wanting to let the words escape that he would say yet. “Yes. You’re coming with us. For Sylva’s sake…but know this…you will learn to fight.”

“Going to get my stuff, be right back.”

“You got them ready already?”

“Always had a suitcase ready, just in case.”

“Hurry, we’re leaving right away. Sylva can sleep on the train; we’re getting a cabin with bunks.”

“So we’re going to Blagoevgrad?” she asked, struggling with her suitcase. He didn’t bother getting up to help her. A: his leg hurt like hell and B: nobody told her to carry that much with her.

He muttered something under his breath. “Dammit, didn’t I tell you again last night? Forgot already, old lady?”

Marta frowned and gave him a scolding look, her hands on her hips. “Whatever, I was just making sure. You keep changing your mind over…well, everything! Words are wind and they get blown away as soon as you let them out of your mouth.”

“Just shut it and bring your stuff here already. We need to get going. And from the moment we set foot in that town, I need to start planning our escape to the next.” He glared at Marta as she left her suitcase at the base of the stairs and came back up, the first aid kit in hand. She knelt down, beginning to unwrap the bandages. “I’m fine, let it go.”

“Oh, sure. You keep it like that. It’s not too late to get gangrene yet after all. I can still spare my bandages.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I am beginning to doubt the sensibility chip I don’t have is because of dad’s genes. You and I are alike in more ways than you think.”

“The only thing we two share is our last name and the undying love and need to protect that sleeping angel,” she said as she pointed to Sylva then stripped the bloody bandages from my ankle, and not gently by any means. Brian clutched his teeth together and let out a hiss, making a mental note to return the favor if she ever got hurt in the future.

“Glad a knife did it. If their claws had gotten it, my leg would have been completely useless by now,” he said. The fact that the blood oozing from the gash on his ankle was red and not black was a bit of a comfort.

 “Why don’t you do that Abra Kadabra of yours and heal it?”

“Because I need my powers in case a real emergency arises. Besides, it is way more power-consuming to heal myself than to heal others. And healing isn’t my specialty. Binding my own body for such minor reasons with that kind of magic is plain stupid,” he explained. It was annoying how he had to remind her about the rules of the necromancer world; why didn’t she get an instruction booklet or something? She could start with Necromancers 101. Gah!

“You know, sometimes I think that your magic is completely useless.”

“Hey!” Brian exclaimed.

“Seriously, what’s the use of being able to do all this cool stuff if you have so many restrictions?”

Brian sucked a deep breath and held back a hiss as she put Betadine on the wound and wrapped new bandages around his leg. The gash was deeper than he had realized, but he chose not to comment on it. “Really wanna know what’s the use? Well, I can just keep mentioning how cool the things I can do are, just to make simple humans like you miserable.”

Matter of Life and Death (New Version) ~ Chapter 01

Chapter 1:

~ Lillian ~

The night was peaceful. She could hear crickets singing on the bushes of the lonely garden. All the lights were out in the tall house.

That is a good sign, she thought.

She was going to make it quick and painless. For her at least. The other guy would die. No, it didn’t hurt her to think or say that, not anymore. She had come to terms with her job as it was and all she could do now, was to deal with it.

She opened the fence door with her gloved hand and with shift, quiet moves she reached the building’s wall. Her tight, black clothes helped her blend into the night; there would be hardly any sign that she was ever here. Except the body of course.

Surprisingly, she didn’t even have to pick on the lock; the door was left ajar. She walked in without making a sound, and the wind made it creak. Perhaps her target was awake. That was hardly a problem. She could hide until he went to bed again. Searching for better cover inside the rooms, she left the corridor, and realized she was standing inside his kitchen. A pile of unwashed dishes was high enough to reach the ceiling and she wondered what would happen to it after she killed the man. There would be no one to take care of it, would there?

With a roll of her eyes and a mental slap she shook herself back into reality. She was in a stranger’s house, with the full intention to kill him, and she was feeling sorry for his kitchen. Really professional, Lillian, she thought to herself.

She took in a deep breath, and kept searching. She came across a small storage room, a dining room and a little hole still stinking like cigarette smoke, with the green tablecloth on the polygonal table. Well, this guy is a pokerface!

And many other things…she whispered inside her head.

Whatever. Keep searching, this was supposed to be quick! she reminded herself.

The next room was his bedroom. He was soundly asleep. She couldn’t make out characteristics, but she knew he was staying alone. He couldn’t be the wrong person! His shaved head seemed to glow as the faint moonlight hit it. He wouldn’t even spend a hundred bucks to get shutters!

She reached down to her leg, and felt the cold handle against her palm. She knew exactly how to hold it, how to make the perfect hit. She simply lifted the knife, and then plunged it into his chest. His eyes flew open for just a second. He saw the girl’s face, and as soon as the knife was out, he was gone.

Lillian wiped the blood off it using the cheap, linen sheets. Nobody would be sad they got stained, she was sure of that. With the knife strapped back against her ankle, she walked out. Nobody would ever know who she was, or that she was even here.

She felt a chill at the back of her neck. It spread across her spine, even though the night was warm. Her ears caught a shrieking sound, sort of like whispering, a slithery voice she wanted to get rid of. It took her a while to register the fact, that it was someone talking to her indeed.

“Youuuu are the one I ssssspoke with on the phhhhone?” he asked. Or at least she thought it was a he. Definitely didn’t sound like a woman. But then again, it would be more appropriate.

“Depends,” she said confidently, and kept walking. The shady figure was creeping through the grass behind her. “What did you talk to me about?”

“The murderrrrr,” it said slowly, in a way that made the words feel as if they were sinking into her skin, and washing over her bones.

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow for effect, but it probably wouldn’t see it, as it were behind her. “Interesting.”

“We spoke about money tooooo, rememberrrr?”

“Now you’re talking.” She nodded, and stopped. They were approaching town dangerously. It would be best if nobody saw them talking about business. “Yes, I am her. The one and only.”

“You’re notttt what I expectttted…” the slithery voice stated.

“Does that mean the deal is off?”

“No.” The voice wasn’t as creepy anymore. Just cold and soulless. Lillian was sure she liked the mysterious, creepy version a bit more than that.

“So who is it?”

The figure turned her around. It also had gloved hands. The fingers seemed long, and thin, and she imagined the thin wrist hidden underneath it’s dark sleeves. The garment it was wearing was rather unspecified, black and loose, like a lunatic’s dirty nightgown. Lillian decided she didn’t want to think of it like that.

It crooked its head and observed her, head to toe. “A boyyy. You will kill him. Him and whoever else is with him. He will have a child too. Keep the child alive. We want herrrr.”

“We?”

“Don’t ask many questions.” The voice was cold, and steady again. “Or the deal is off.”

Lillian lifted her shoulders. “I don’t care anyway. Here, give me my money, and I’ll take care of it.”

It pulled a pouch out of its garment. Lillian couldn’t help another lift of her eyebrows, but as she met her ‘employer’s’ cold, bottomless stare, she got serious. She even stopped thinking inside her head, A pouch? Seriously?

“I will call you in the morningggg…for the resssst. I’ll tell you wherrrrre to go. For now…head southhh. I need you assss closssse assss posssssible.”

The added “S” made Lillian’s ears buzz, but she kept on her serious face and gave a short nod, before heading to her car. It wasn’t hers really. It was…borrowed. At least it felt to Lillian like borrowing. She didn’t ask the owner first…but he probably knew it by now…

~ Brian ~

Earlier that day…

“Mom? I’m home!” Brian announced, and kicked the door open.

He hurried to put all the shopping bags in the kitchen, and get down to work. For the past week, he’d been trying to fix everything around the house. He’d put lights on the outside, he’d straightened the soil in the backyard, he’d replaced their old mailbox. Today, he was intending to put some grass. Fake grass, but grass nonetheless. Brian believed that fake was even better; they wouldn’t need a gardener, and they would never get weeds or unwanted bugs.

“Mom?”

“I’m upstairs!” she called down at him. He could make out his baby sister’s giggles echoing through the empty house.

Of course his mother would be with Sylva. She hadn’t left her out of her sight since…the accident. They both did their best to make sure the child would be safe. They had managed to stay in this house for a surprisingly long time. They expected trouble to show up on their front porch any day now.

“Alright!” he yelled back at her. “I’ll be in the garden if you need anything!” All he got for an answer was loud laughter.

The day passed uneventfully, and by noon he had finished covering half of their backyard with the fake green material. His five-year-old sister, Sylva, showed up, and began asking her big brother all sorts of questions. She played in the sandbox, and rolled across the grass, then she brought her toys out, and sat near Brian as she came up with bizarre childish stories. She loved Brian and would do anything to stay with him. But Brian loved Sylva as well. He was always very protective of her…she was worth of his protection as well. He liked to look at himself as a highly logical person, someone who would keep his feelings locked away in a tiny drawer in the back of his mind. The truth was though, that he was emotional. Not over everything, definitely not. His little sister was his big red button though. He would tense even at the idea of anyone hurting her.

“Come on, Sylva. Let’s go eat lunch,” he told her, and picked her up.

Luisa was placing their dishes on the table at the time they walked in the house. “I will go meet up with Marta,” she told her son. Marta was Luisa’s sister. They had a big age difference, but were close nonetheless.

“Oh. Fine. So seeing Marta means more than having lunch with your children, eh?” Brian said, lifting an eyebrow. Sylva always felt fascinated by her brother’s eyebrow-lifting skills. She couldn’t move her own separately, even though they were so tiny!

Their mother shook her head. “I’ll be back really soon.”

And she came back quickly, just like she said she would. She didn’t explain the purpose of her visit to her sister in the middle of the day; instead, she took her lunch, and joined her children in the living room. Sylva had decided to watch her favorite movie, Rapunzel, for the millionth time. Brian wasn’t into the whole princess finds her true love sort of thing, but he was to look after Sylva while they were home alone. He believed she was safer with him sitting right next to her instead of being all the way across the house fixing the garden. He could do that tomorrow as well anyway; it was getting dark.

“Any plans for tonight?” Luisa asked her son. He was a big boy, really. If he wanted he could even move out, he would turn nineteen in a couple of weeks. She had even suggested it to him, but Brian had refused. It was a long time ago that he had sworn to stick with Sylva to the end.

“Didn’t have something in mind.”

“Marta will be hanging around Joe’s. Maybe you’d like to go?”

Brian snorted. Marta? Seriously, mom? he thought. Marta would be the person he’d least want to be with. Marta was six years older than him, but since he was a child, there was some sort of competition between them. “I don’t need babysitting anymore, remember?” he asked, and laughed.

“Shhhhhh!” Sylva said out of the blue. She placed a finger over her lips and glared at her mom and brother. “Wapunzel is going to heal him now!”

Brian shrugged, and fell silent. Sylva was an adorable little girl, but when it came to this movie…you had to be quiet as a fish.

“I just meant, honey,” Luisa whispered, and Brian rolled his eyes at the ‘honey’ part, “that you could use some time out. Talk to people.”

“I talked to the salesgirl where I bought the grass from just today,” Brian defended himself.

“Is that the best you can do?”

“What? Do you want me to ask her out too?”

Luisa shook her head. “I don’t want you do anything. I just want you to be happy. I didn’t mean you kiddo to have this sort of life.”

“I’m fine, ’kay? You don’t have to get all momsy. What demon’s gotten into you?”

“This day seven years ago your dad left us,” Luisa said, a little sad.

Brian knew that of course. He had saved that date right next to Sylva’s birthday. That was how deeply it had been carved in his brain. He had chosen to ignore it for this year though. His heart was filled with such bitterness this day every year…he didn’t know if it was worth it anymore. “And?” he demanded.

“It always makes me think how many things I’ve done wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything. I mean, well, you got married to a human. Could happen to anyone.”

“I meant about you and Sylva. It there was just a way to make things right for the two of you.”

“Well, can you keep them from coming after us? No. Then stop. We’ll just keep running for as long as possible.” Brian knew that this was all the future held for him. Hideout after hideout after hideout…his mother wasn’t a criminal. No. But she wasn’t normal. And that is the main ingredient for disaster. The rest just came on its own.

She was a Necromancer. Could see the dead, could talk to them. They floated around everywhere she went. Her children were unlucky enough to inherit her powers, or at least that was how she always saw it. It wasn’t a gift. It simply was problems. If they were normal, they would have never come after her family. She could have had a normal life and put away that part of her. It always came back chasing her though. Your own self is the only thing you can never get away from.

They both fell silent, and watched the rest of the movie. It was almost over, but Sylva was as absorbed as ever. The moment the titles showed on the screen, Luisa was on her feet and picked Sylva up. “Time to go to bed now,” she said.

The little girl complained for a while, but finally gave up. Luisa kept stroking her long blonde hair as she went up the stairs with the child. Brian kept staring blankly at the TV screen, thinking about nothing in particular. The old willow’s branches outside slammed against the windows, scratching the smooth transparent surface. This place had stopped giving the creeps to Brian a long time ago. There were far scarier things than a stupid tree in the backyard.

The boards of Sylva’s bed squealed as she bounced on top of it, and she laughed loudly. That was when Brian felt it. The shivering. It felt like a snake crawling up his skin, like icicles forming around his hands. He knew what the unpleasant feeling meant. They had arrived.

Without making a sound, he ran upstairs, and shut Sylva’s bedroom door behind him. “They came.”

Luisa’s eyes widened, but as fast as the shock came, it was gone. She picked Sylva up, blanket and everything, and handed her over to Brian, as if she were a bundle with clothes. “Take her, and hide.”

“They’re a lot. You’ll need help,” Brian objected.

“The best way you can help is to hide.” She pushed her son all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She leaned down, searching in blind through the cupboards. “There, get in.”

“In? Are you serious? I’m not getting in a cupboard! There’s no way I’ll fit anyway!”

She gave him a wild glare, and pushed his head down and into the cupboard. “It fits you just fine. Don’t make a sound. And don’t get out, unless you’re absolutely sure they’re gone.”

Then everything turned black. Luisa left her children back in the cupboard the same moment the front door burst open. Wood splinters flew to every direction, and their figures stood out in the darkness. They were a formless mass of deadly violet eyes, and black cloaks. She knew she wouldn’t make it, but she was going to fight until she wouldn’t be able to get up anymore.

Brian felt like such an idiot. His sister was trembling uncontrollably in his arms; she was scared of the dark. He had to get out, to help his mom. She was going to get herself killed this time.

“No!” Sylva managed to whisper, and clutched her brother’s shirt tightly. “Stay with me, Bwian…”

More crashes came from the living room. What was going on? He had the feeling that this was the coffee table; which by the way had survived the past three attacks, and made it to their fourth house since his father had left. Apparently, it would never get into the fifth one.

“Sylva, you need to stay here. In. The. Cupboard. Do you understand?” He gripped her tiny shoulders, to make her realize the gravity of the situation. He searched blindly, and found a little, plastic cup. “There. It’s your favorite, remember? The one with Winnie the Pooh. Keep that until I get back there.”

She nodded silently, and Brian was out. He rushed into the living room before the creatures even realized where he came from.

“Brian, I told you to stay put!” Luisa yelled from the top of the stairs as she tried to fight off one of them. It was standing a few steps below the first floor, hindered by a bright shield of glowing silver. Ghosts.

Luisa never used her powers. Ever. Except very few situations. Like this one. She absolutely had to, because they were more than every other time, and there was no time to run. Brian wondered if any of them would make it out alive this time.

“They’ll ruin the house!” Brian yelled. “I didn’t finish painting everything for nothing.” He made a leap for the closest one, to find himself jumping through black smoke. He shuddered. The feeling of coming through one as it vanished was horrible, as if tons of needles were piercing his spine, and he breathed in very cold air. He felt paralyzed for a second, then he was back on his feet. If he wasn’t quick enough he’d be very dead, very soon.

“Watch out!” Luisa yelled again.

The dark figure took shape behind him, a black mass looming behind him. Only the eyes really stood out in the darkness. Silvery frames flowed all around the room, attracted by the mayhem. Brian always believed that just like people were unable to see what was going on in the other world even though it was so close to theirs, ghosts couldn’t see everything either. The surge of magick though, drew them close. They were ready to help. Not all of them liked necromancers, they loved to play tricks on their minds, but they hated these things more. They would help.

Brian focused his energy on the ghosts, creating a shield similar to his mother’s. It wasn’t as strong, but it would do. The creature stepped away, letting out a shriek of repulse, and placing a bony hand in front of its face, as if a blinding light glowed before it.

“Ah!” Brian growled, and cussed under his breath as a stabbing pain sliced through his leg. He looked down; his jeans were torn, blood was dripping. As his eyes rose, he saw another creature smiling, a blood-curdling, maleficent smile, completely disarming, in the worst way.

“Brian. Get. Out. Of. Here!” Luisa said again. The dark figure by the stairs screamed, and smoke rose, as it died away. If what happened to them was supposed to be dying. They didn’t appear to be alive at all. She ran downstairs, so furious that her aura was almost visible. The silver shield around her grew stronger, and bigger, pushed the monsters against the wall, made them scream in pain. They were turning to smoke, they were trying to escape, but they probably wouldn’t. Luisa was always so powerful, so good at what she did, even though she wanted to give it up, and get away from it all.

She got to her son so easily it almost seemed effortless for her. She put Brian behind the shield too.

“You got hurt,” she said, disapproving. “I told you I would handle it. Why did you get out?”

“You needed help!”

“I needed you to be with Sylva!”

“Sylva is safe. I made sure of that.”

“Go. I’ll finish them off. Go, go, go!”

She pushed his shoulder, but her will felt to be the thing pushing him harder into the kitchen, and back into the cupboard. He felt woozy, as if everything was happening in slow motion around him. Sylva flinging her hands around his neck, his own hands holding the little girl close, and Luisa screaming. Then it all came to focus.

She wasn’t doing well. Something was horribly wrong. Sylva wouldn’t let go of him this time though, and he wouldn’t be able to help her now, even if he wanted to. He felt drained, he had used too much magick for a day. If he got out there again, he would just be a chunk of skin, and bones standing between Luisa and the monsters. He pressed his hands against Sylva’s ears to keep her from realizing what was going on.

There were no more screams though. No more crashes, and bangs. Everything was silent. Dead silent.

No…he thought to himself.

With the little energy left in him, he pulled the veil separating the two worlds around them, to keep them from being obvious to the creatures. They had to remain hidden. Sylva looked up at him, big, almond-shaped, silver eyes digging into his own. He brought a finger over his lips, showing her she should still keep quiet.

With the veil, he couldn’t get a feel of what was happening in the house either. When would he know that they were gone? What if they just waited for him to check so that they would spot them? He decided he could at least remove the veil from himself. He was exhausted, drained, there was no magick for them to sniff. He was as good as a human. Invisible to them.

“The chhhhhhild isssssn’t here,” one of them hissed.

“Shhhhhe died for nothhhhhing,” the other one agreed. “Idiotttt…”

Brian’s breath caught in his throat. So she was dead. The realization sank in quickly. He had been preparing himself for this moment. With Luisa’s stubbornness, it was almost sure that she would be the first one to go. Brian was more cautious, calculating, cold, thinking things through. His mother on the other hand was the exact opposite. Hot-headed, ready to throw herself into the fight, an improvising, passionate person. He didn’t expect to feel so…it didn’t feel different. Things were exactly the same before she died. He didn’t feel the loss, not yet at least. It wasn’t the same like the first time, when they killed his dad. He couldn’t explain it. And he didn’t have time to think it through either.

The cut on his ankle was throbbing, it felt swollen, and the bleeding hadn’t stopped. Sylva clung to his legs as if they were a lifejacket, she would probably have blood all over.

“What a wassste of time. They ffffffled,” the monsters continued.

“Then we proccccceed as planned…”

He could feel the cold feeling creeping up his spine once again, but this time they were departing. As soon as they left, Brian moved.

Red Moon (New Version) ~ Prologue ~ Because Everything Has To Start From Somewhere

Author's Note:

Well, hello, people! As I already announced you, I decided to write the story from scratch! Of course, I'll use again lots of pieces from the old text and I'm hoping that I'll manage to fill in blanks and correct inaccuracies throughout the story! Some of you might know that this was my very first fan fiction (except another one, which was really short-lived and luckily for the fan fiction world never posted online) so I experimented. Oh, trust me, I experimented a lot. Red Moon and its sequel Northern Lights (which will also be rewritten when the time comes) were my little beloved guinea pigs, as some of you may have noticed. The rest... You're lucky if you didn't read enough of them to figure it out, guys, take my word for that!

And I'm getting sidetracked and discrediting my own story... Way to go, Nessie! Yay!Anyhoo! I'll do my best to improve the story! I owe it to both you and my characters!Once again, I have to thank my wonderful beta, Wendy D, who agreed to edit Red Moon once again and put up with me as I start Eshe's story all over again!

Also, just to be on the safe side, if you're new to the fan fiction world: 

a) I am writing in italics everything that is thought and 

b) any mental dialogues will appear in italics and in this form: 'Quote '

c) I'll be attaching PDF files under each chapter now that I realized there was an awfully simple way to do it. Same thing with pictures, etc, they'll be at the end of each chapter.

d) Every now and then, you might encounter dialogues in languages other than English. I'll be putting in parentheses the English translation right next to the original, since my beta pointed out things get complicated when a reader has to scroll down to read the translation, then scroll back up to read the rest of the chapter... Anyway.

Oh and a last thing, since I always forget to write disclaimers for my fan fics. Twilight and all the characters from the saga belong to Stephenie Meyer, I have no profit by this fan fiction, the original characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission, yada, yada, yada!

I think I covered everything now! I hope that you'll enjoy the story and leave me your thoughts! They always matter, even if they're the tiniest of comments! (Although we all know how authors love long comments! *grins*) Constructive critisism is highly appreciated as long as it stays constructive. No flaming please!

Hugs!

Nessie

You might recognize this as the old first chapter. I decided to turn it into a prologue, since it's mostly introductory and I saw no way in making it longer. I made additions here and there, and I hope it looks by far better than the old chapter!

I was leaning against the door of our family car, and was staring at the front door of our home… Home-for-a-while… Whatever. I was saying goodbye to the place I lived once again. We always did that. We changed house, town, country every few months, even weeks sometimes. If we drew too much attention to ourselves, we left immediately. My childhood was really strange. I grew up between two worlds. My parents were vampires… and I was not.

The two of them had known each other since they were children. My dad lived in Texas until the age of four, and then his parents decided to move to Alaska after his father was offered a job there. That’s how he met my mother. She lived two streets down; they used to hang out in the neighborhood’s playground. They became inseparable, literally joined at the hip. Nobody was surprised when they started dating in high school. Alem and Emma. Everyone was thinking it. They were just waiting for it to happen.

The perfect high school love story never lasted though. It took just a night for everything to change. A few drinks, a little snow and a hungry vampire. That’s when my dad disappeared. Vanished, just like that. He didn’t remember much about the time after that, but he knew the vampire didn’t change him right away. He took him away from everything, and everyone he knew. My grandparents filed a missing person report. Everyone searched, and Emma tried to move on. His parents too. After a while, they gave up and returned to Texas, hoping it would help them heal. Maybe forget their son, like that were even possible. I never really knew.

But one day, he came back.

He looked older, different. His face was sharper, the childish characteristics were gone. And there was this other minor detail. His skin tone. Alem used to have such a dark complexion. I’ve seen photos when he was a kid, most of them with mom. My dad always had this deep, chocolate brown color, but after the transformation it turned into a pale, washed out shade of what it used to be. His eyes had changed too. The beautiful grey-blue eyes became a haunting, yet breathtaking, amber.

Mom found out the truth quickly. He couldn’t keep himself from coming back. How could he ever keep such a secret from her? Mom stopped caring about college, her future and everything else that used to be her life, the same moment he showed up. She didn’t care about his monstrous nature. All she wanted to do was to drop out of college and be with him. Dad convinced her to continue college. In the meantime, he stayed in the shadows; he knew he couldn’t simply step back into his old life. There would be so much he could not explain, too many questions he just couldn’t answer.

Being in love with a vampire, they soon discovered, was far from easy. They may have managed to keep their relationship secret, but there was no way on earth they could hide what came next. Who would have guessed, mom could get pregnant with a vampire’s child? Yeah, that’s where I come in. Almost. There’s some more.

My father tried to take care of her, even tried getting a doctor’s consult, but…

What do human doctors know about that kind of thing after all? Let alone, he had to explain how in half a month of pregnancy, there was a five month old baby growing inside my mother. They put as much distance as they could from mom’s hometown right away. He realized that the innocent little thing inside her was sucking away her life. I could have lived without knowing that bit about my mom’s pregnancy to be honest…

Day by day, she became weaker. There was no way it could be avoided. She loved me with all her heart, and could never have an abortion. The womb was too hard for a human doctor to cut, almost like vampire skin. The pink color she always had was gone and a sickening white was taking its place. Her swollen belly was like a sea of purple bruises. Her reddish-blond hair was losing its shine and until the end she tried to hide how much I was hurting her from my father.

When I was born, my father barely had enough time to turn my mother into a vampire. All the while, he was also trying to keep me far enough from her, so that I wouldn’t be dangerous to her; or her to me. The only memories of my mother as human that I have are the three painful days of her transformation. Her constant screams night and day during her change, would have gathered a big crowd if we weren’t hidden in a little house, which used to be where my mom went on vacation with her cousins every spring, deep in a forest in the Alaskan mountains. Fortunately, it was the middle of winter and there was always the danger of blizzards at any time, therefore, it kept humans away.

Her newborn year wasn’t as hard as my father’s. It seemed that her motherly instincts won out over her vampire ones. I was never in danger when I was around her. This also helped her develop her self-control early. After four solitary months that the three of us spent hidden away, mom had learned the ropes. We were able to make an appearance in the human world once again.

We tried to follow a more gentle diet. My father had a passion for human life; he saw people as… well, people, not food, unlike many others of our kind. Although he couldn’t even remember the vampire that changed him, he had learned a few things about the sort of creature he was going to become and had a plan, a way to control his vampire nature.

Seven months after his transformation, he had the discipline to test his theory. He had thought of a better, at least for the humans, way to feed himself; drinking the blood of animals. It worked, so he followed this diet from that moment on, never looking back. The animal blood made his eyes change from a blood red to a warm, honey-gold shade, which made it easier to blend in the human world without drawing curious looks to himself.

When he went back to find my mom, he was still experimenting, so his eyes had barely changed to amber at that point. Mom’s eyes turned gold faster than my dad’s, around her eighth month as a vampire, since she adapted to this odd diet so well from the very start. I’m proud to say that I’ve never tasted human blood in my life. Sometimes, it was hard to resist the temptation, walking around unsuspecting humans. They would never know what hit them if I decided to make a move... I wasn’t that kind of person though… I didn’t want to be that kind of person…

Throughout my childhood, I was surrounded by people who loved me. My parents of course, but also most of the vampires we met as we traveled around. I found out I could win their affection very easily… They used to think my little gift and I were adorable. But I also lived with the worry for my future, and the painful fact that I didn’t fit in anywhere. I didn’t belong to the vampire world or the human one.

I was growing too fast to bond with humans. They would notice I was not normal. And obviously, the fact that I grew at all, automatically ruled me out of the vampire world as well. There were many things that made me different. I always had a temperature that was much warmer than normal humans were, but I was pale like a vampire. My eyes didn’t change with my eating habits or my thirst. Their natural color was a bright, sky-blue, and my hair red with black streaks. Not that it mattered much; I happened to have a power or gift, however you looked at it. I could change my appearance at will.

The fact that I grew up too fast was also worrisome with nothing to base it on being I was the only “hybrid” we knew. On my first birthday, I already looked like a five-year-old. My growth has slowed considerably now, which is what allowed us to settle down for a longer time, and stay in the same place for the past year. Even though I was a bit short – blame mom for passing on the faulty height gene – I looked undeniably like a girl in her teens by my fifth calendar year.

Thankfully, my behavior wasn’t giving away my true age either. Along with my rapid physical growth spurt came an equal amount of maturity. The phrase ‘wise beyond her years’ was more than true in my case. None of the many vampires we met knew what could possibly be wrong with me, or how it would progress as more years passed. I had something in mind, but preferred not to think about it. It was more than once that I wished I hadn’t grown this fast. I always wondered what childhood was like for humans. If there were one thing I knew for sure, it would be that it was supposed to last longer. Maybe longer than I’d ever get to live.

“Eshe, honey, are you ready?” Mom nudged me, bringing me back to reality. I looked at her confused for a second. Oh. Right. The car. We’re leaving again, I realized.

I inhaled deeply and glanced for a last time at the little house, in the pretty and neat neighborhood where we’d hardly spent five months. Goodbye. Maybe the next owners will stick around longer than we did. “Yeah. Alright. Let’s go,” I said eventually.

I opened the door I was leaning against and grudgingly got in the car. The whole thing shook as I slammed the door shut. I never could fully control my strength. I didn’t get the chance to really practice after all since we always lived in neat, little towns like this one with perfect neighbors. The sort of neighbors that’d wash their car and cut the lawn every Sunday. Just imagine the new girl they were so curious about acting odd. Exactly my point. It wasn’t much of an option.

“Eshe, please, be careful.” Dad grinned. “We’ve only owned the car a month,” he teased.

I stuck my tongue at him as the engine roared to life. A brand new beginning. Once again. Not even fugitives get so many of these. I chuckled to myself. Oh well. C’est la vie…