Chapter 5 - Dublin

Chapter 5 – Dublin

He sat for several minutes, deep in contemplation. His eyes avoided mine, and I had to wonder if someone like him still had emotions, and what was going through his mind. I wondered if he was embarrassed to be talking to me about all of this, or maybe he was worried about what I would think about him. Yeah right. Like I rated that high on his scale. Without a word he began moving, strolling casually through the park. I walked alongside him, and I'm sure to the casual bystander we looked like a young couple out enjoying a beautiful spring evening. His voice was soft, his well-trained accent beginning to slip just slightly. I could hear the first hints of a rich Irish brogue peeking through, and it made me wonder what was going on in his mind that would cause him to lose that carefully cultivated accent he had.

“I was born in Ireland, in 1723. It was a little village outside of Dublin, though the name is one of those things I have long since forgotten. I was the third eldest son of 13 children. Much of the memories of my childhood, many of the memories of my life before are lost to me. Too many years, too much time lost in my own mind. Some of it, I regret losing. The rest is something I never wanted to remember anyway.

“My family had a small farm, we owned the house and a bit of the land surrounding it, and we all worked to maintain it. My mother was also a weaver, and she made some of the most amazing pieces. Though her work was simple, she was truly an artist. Were she alive today, it would be amazing to see what she could do with colors and textures.”

He glanced at me and paused for a brief moment. His eyes were shining with some untold emotion as he recalled his past, and a faint smile touched his lips. “Have you heard of the bliain an áir, Little Bird? The Year of the Slaughter?”

I nodded to him once, watching him in rapt attention, struggling to digest his words. 280 years old. Christ, for all I knew he was sibling to my Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather. The things he had seen throughout all those years...the rise and fall of societies and times. It boggled my mind, just looking at him. “I've heard of it...not a whole lot, but I touched on it in History class.”

He nodded once, looking away from me, “Then you have a vague idea of what it was like. Or at least, an idea of the picture that History paints it...” his voice trailed off and he hesitated for a moment, “They tell you about the poverty, the dysentery, the children starving because the crops would not grow. But without being there, you have no idea what it was like. One of our neighbors drowned all of their children – it was a kinder fate then watching them starve slowly. I left, in 1740, to go to Dublin. I had it in my mind that perhaps I could find work there and help support my family. I thought if I could only make a little extra money, I could help them survive the hard times.”

His face was grim as she shook his head slowly, “It wasn't enough. My entire family died over the course of the first year that I was away. The last time I saw them I was waving goodbye and promising to return soon. My father, my mother...all of my siblings. Every one of them, dead. Many of them from disease or starvation. My two eldest brothers were hung, accused of stealing grain from our neighbors. It is a terrible blow to ones faith, to find that no matter what lengths you might you to, you still might lose all that is dear to you. The only things you hold precious.”

He paused again in his story, his feet leading us to a bench sheltered by heavy tree boughs. He looked towards the fountain, settling gracefully onto the bench, not even seeming to know that he was doing it. “I lost myself after it all happened, after I received word that they had all passed. I continued to work every day, hard day labor, and my life became an endless cycle of self-loathing. I would wake up in the morning, work until I was dead on my feet, go to the bar to carouse and whore, sleep and pray that I would not dream of them. Every day I died a little more inside, my soul slowly wasting away. There was nothing left in the world for me. Not in Dublin, not in the empty cottage where I had been raised. There was nothing, anywhere, left for the likes of me.”

“Until I met her. She was the most stunningly beautiful Irish Rose I had ever seen. Copper hair, emerald eyes, porcelain skin. To my eyes, she was perfection, a veritable goddess reborn. Wherever she went eyes followed, men lusted after her, women longed to be her. She was stunning and she was perfection. And she knew it.

“I began to dote on her, following her every word and action. It took only weeks before I was completely under her control. A willing thrall desperate for a touch of love. By the time I discovered what she was, what she did...what monster lurked beneath that beautiful surface, I was too deeply entwined with her to ever leave. It was exactly what she had wanted, a strapping young lad to do her dirty work for her. I had nothing left, so I gave her all of me. I had nothing to lose, except my life. And that was exactly how she wanted it.

“You must understand something about Vampires, Alexandra. We truly are monsters.” He looked me in the eye and I felt something inside me melt. The way he said in my name in that lilting accent made everything around me feel a little unsteady. I shook my head and frowned a little, making a sound of protest – I had a hard time believing, no matter how evil he might be, that he was 100% monster. Uh-oh. That right there should have been a sign that I was getting too close.

“Hush. Yes, we are monsters. Complete and utter monsters, no matter what you might say or think, no matter what the fairy books might insinuate. We are monsters, we are creatures of the night, and we are evil. We stalk our prey, we hunt mercilessly, and when we are tired of the game and toying with our food, we strike. And we kill. Not always, but often enough. We will suck the life and soul out of anyone we must. It is the way we have always existed, and the way that we will always continue to exist. Do you understand?”

I looked at him, frowning deeply. He wanted me to think of him as a monster, and was working damn hard to convince me of that fact. It made me a bit suspicious, to be honest. I figured eventually the truth would come out so I just shrugged it off, nodding, “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. Now, don't forget that fact, Little Bird. Because the moment that you forget that we are the predators and the monsters and you are the prey, you lose. You lose more then just your friends and family who think you've gone mad, you lose your life as well.”

Yeap, that made my heart skip a beat or two. “Is that supposed to be a threat, Ciaran?”

He chuckled and shook his head, looking back towards the water, “No. It's a warning. You can heed it or you can ignore it, the choice is ultimately yours.”

I just nodded, watching him and waiting for the story to continue. He gave a slight sigh, rubbing at his temples for a moment before continuing, the brogue thickening as he lost himself in the memories of his mortal life.

“In Dublin during those days, the Vampires were on the top of the food chain. It is something that you won't find in any history book, obviously, but it was one of our most active times in that particular area. Like any predatory group, there was a defined leader. And in like any predatory group, there was always a plan to bring the leader to ruin. There were always those plotting the demise of the one on top, so they could gain the power themselves. She was the leader in Dublin, and she had been for many years. On top of being stunning, she was old and she was powerful, and she unequivocally held the city in the palm of one delicate hand.

“Teaghanne was vicious, even by our standards. She was brilliant, beautiful and vivacious. She could entrance a crowd with a single word and bring a man to his knees with a single glance. And she did, every chance she could. She reveled in the attention she gained through her power. It was her major weakness, her ego. At the heart of her was a killer, cold blooded and meticulous. Unlike some of us, she would often kill purely for the sport of it, just to watch her victims squirm. She would torture them and promise them their release, only to crush their hopes in the palm of her hand. She was the ultimate monster, and she was the creature that I could not escape. Even if I had wanted to.

“It didn't take long before I was her puppet, her willing slave boy. I would bring her young, unsuspecting men and women to feed from, and I carried out her business for her. It didn't take me long to leave my employ of day labor, so I could fully focus on her.”

He hesitated for a moment and I watched him closely as he seemed to struggle with the words, “I thought of her as my angel. Though she was cruel to her victims, she was always kind to me, in her way. I was well cared for, and I never wanted for anything. In my mind, during those first days, I loved her completely.”

“It wasn't bad, serving under her. It was hard work, but I quickly lost and squeamishness I'd retained from my life before meeting her. Along with the tasks I did for her, I became her confidant. After her nights affairs were concluded, we would sit together and talk, long into the early hours of the morning, until the sun forced her to sleep. We were lovers, and in as much as any creature such as she was can claim, I was her friend. Her only friend.”

I blinked and looked at him, unable to keep myself from interrupting, “Lover? You mean...you can do that still?”

He smiled vaguely, his mind far away in a land and time long gone, “Aye, if we so wish. Many of us use it only to get what we want. We use it to manipulate humans into loving us, into worshiping us. So many in this world will give themselves over to you completely, if you'll but offer them a kiss and a gentle word, and a caress to help them through the night.”
He must have caught the deep frown that immediately creased my face because he shook his head, “I speak of the sheep in general, Alexandra, of the herd you see before us.” he waved his hand once, still shaking her head, “If I thought of you as a sheep, as cattle, then we would not be here tonight speaking. Trust me when I tell you that.”

I just nodded, crossing my arms over my chest and frowning deeply. It bothered me that he was willing to use women – and possibly men – like that. I'm not sure why it bothered me so much, or why I hadn't expected it. I think I might have been a little bit jealous. He continued his story, looking away from me as his words floated from him, “She was hated, Alexandra. Hated, loved, feared, worshiped – all at the same time. Loved for what she could offer, and for the inspiration that her beauty could spark, for the things she could do for our city. Feared for the allies she claimed, the strength she possessed, and the many years that she had survived our society. And she was hated for the power that she wielded over all of us, vampire and human alike.”

“The others grew weary of Teaghanne and her spoiled ways. She threatened their very way of life with her extravagant behavior. We exist under the shadow of night, but Teaghanne wasn't afraid to step into the light and let the world see her as she truly was. You understand, it was a danger to them all. The Elder council convened under the cover of the light of day, and they discussed their options. It was decided that she would never willingly change her ways and that she would fight them to the death. To this end, their decision was the sentence of death...”

The frown on his face deepened, and I could see the emotion behind his beautiful eyes. Monster or no, he remembered the woman that he had once loved. He accepted what she was and what she had done, but he still loved her. Just as he continued to mourn for her, all these years later.

“It was a night like all of the others we had spent together. She sent me forth to find her a handsome young man for dinner. It was never a difficult task...find a bar, buy the drinks while avoiding my own and lead him stumbling back to her home. I always tried to find men that would not be missed...sometimes they were allowed to live, but more often then not, their bodies were found in the river. I had done this many times before, and I had no idea that it would be the last time I did it for her.

“They waited for me, and they followed me as I made my way from her home. It was early evening, the sun just beginning to set. When we were out of her sensory range, they jumped me. There were six of them, big men with weapons in hand. At first, I thought they only meant to mug me, and I was more then happy to give them the few possessions I carried with me. Money meant nothing to her, and we had it in spades. I quickly realized that I was not the only pet in the city, and that these men were as strong as I, if not stronger. I was overpowered by them, and they began to beat me. It continued for what seemed like hours, though they never allowed me to lose consciousness. For whatever reason they may have had, they wanted me to be aware of every little thing they did to be.

“Finally, they were finished. A few more kicks for good measure, and then they threw me at her door, just as the sun was setting. She was terrified when she saw me, and I saw her waffling between going after them and staying with me. My body was shattered and I was covered in blood, practically on deaths doorstep. I would not have survived that night, and I should not have survived that beating.

“She did the only thing she could think of to save me. She attempted to turn me, to make her in her image.”

His voice was quiet, nearly so soft that I couldn't hear him, though I was already straining. I kept watching him, feeling my heart break a little for him, “Teaghanne had never made another, though she was intimately familiar with the process. She had told me once that she did not want the competition. The process of becoming...is not a pleasant one. Blood is exchanged and an unbreakable bond is forged. The vampire drains the human, until they are on the verge of death, and then they bestow life again. I had lost much blood already, and I was unaware of what was happening around me. I vaguely remember her asking my permission, though she was already going through the motions. She was worried I would die before I could answer.

“As much pain as I was in, as hazy as that whole night is – I remember that moment in perfect clarity. Usually, when a vampire feeds, it is not just a matter of taking blood from an unwilling victim. It is a moment where both predator and prey are one. It's a moment of sheer ecstasy tempered by the pain and knowledge that you are slowly dieing. You remember the woman in the alley? She would not have stopped me, even if she could. She wanted it as much as I did.

“So she began to turn me. At the beginning, it was like every time she had ever fed from me. It was one of the things she enjoyed...she would feed from me, while we were in bed together. She said that I brought her closer to God. It was beautiful, all of the pain began to seep away from my body through her touch and her lips pressed to one of my many wounds. It...quickly changed, into something very different. Pain infused my body, something worse then I had already experienced. It felt as though she were trying to suck my very soul through my blood. I screamed and I begged her to stop, trying to push her away from me, feebly trying to escape her touch. I remember looking at her and seeing her face, stained from the blood I was seeping all over her expensive oriental rug and the tears that were running down her face. She didn't want to do what she was doing, she didn't want to inflict the pain on me, but she had no choice.”

He paused for a long moment, and I was terrified that it was the end of his tale. I was on the edge of my seat – terrified and horrified at what I was hearing, and disgusted at myself for wanting so badly to know his most intimate story. When he spoke again his voice was low and thick with emotion, “I saw the light then. They tell tales of what it is like when you die, and that is what I saw. Beautiful, warm light that filled me with comfort. I could have wept with the joy of it, knowing that I would soon be reunited with the family I had lost. It was all perfect, in that moment, and I felt complete peace.

“And then it was there in front of me. Her pale, perfect wrist with a thick cut running along ancient veins, coursing with blood that had seen the rise and fall of empires. She pushed it to my mouth and tried to force me to drink. I tried to resist but she would have none of it. She slapped me, shaking me – gently so she would not injure me further – screaming at me in a polyglot of all the languages she had learned over the years, demanding I drink. Demanding that I live. Demanding that I come back, for her.

“So I did. I didn't want to die, even if it meant my existence would only be a damned half-life. And once I started, I couldn't stop. I couldn't resist the taste of her once I'd had her.

“The turning process is long and exhausting to all involved. First you are drained by the vampire, and they must take care not to drink too much. If they do, they fail before they've even started. Then you must drink from them, but not too much or they will become too weak. After you have drank your body begins to die. Slowly.” He turned his head and looked at me, catching my eyes as he spoke rapidly, his beautiful accent coming to the forefront, becoming more and more pronounced.

“First everything in your body kicks into overdrive, trying to rid you of the disease you've been infested with. Your heart races until you feel as though it will burst from your very chest. Your blood rushes through your veins and through your head, everything screaming and on red alert. Your mind screams as it feels your organs start to first falter and then fail. You try to voice it, to scream along with your mind, but your body is already starting to fail to respond to you. And then there is pain, and it is a more excruciating pain then anything you have ever endured. It is more pain then you think you can handle, until you think you will go mad with it. The dead blood mixes with what little living blood you have left inside you, the two wage battle inside your body for leadership. It feels as though your veins have turned to barbed wire, and someone is slowly ripping them through you, inch by inch.”

I winced and looked away, unable to look at him, my gorge starting to rise. The thought of it made me ill, the thought of the pain that he had gone through, just to end up with his current damned experience. The thought that he could do it to another person made my head swim and my lungs contract in fear that I would be experiencing it all soon enough. He growled low beneath his breath, catching my chin in one strong hand and dragging it up, forcing my eyes to his as he continued, his words coming more rapidly.

“You pray for death, you pray for any kind of release. But the words won't come, oh no, you've lost control of your body and you can't speak. Your mind races, but you can't think well enough to devise a way out of the situation you've gotten yourself into. Your muscles contract and relax and you spasm and seize all over the floor. If you are lucky, you have someone to hold you down so you don't harm yourself. If you are really lucky, you don't bite your tongue off. You know that you are dying, and there is not a damn thing you can do to stop it, but you keep fighting it. Your body fights it til the bitter end, your lungs on fire as you struggle to draw every breath that you can. Your life flashes before your eyes, and you are reminded of all the things you did wrong, all the things you failed to accomplish. The harms you dealt, the beauty you saw, the things you will never experience.”

He stopped speaking suddenly, dropping his hand away from my face and pushing away, gracefully rising to her feet and pacing before the bench. I watched him, wide-eyed, unable to move, unable to think. He was shaking, the unneeded breath heaving in his chest. He turned away from me, but not before I saw the look in his face, the blood-lust evident in his eyes, his lips drawn back to show his fangs.

“And then, it is over. Somewhere in your mind you know that you are dead, yet you are still aware. You can feel your blood cooling in your veins, your heart beating its last. Your organs slowly shut down, but there is no pain anymore. They all grind to a slow halt. It is all over. You know that you are dead, but at last there is no more pain. If you are lucky you make it through with your mind and your body intact...many do not survive the process...

“They came at the end, just as she was pulling my head into her lap to try to offer me some comfort as my mortality slipped away. I hated her but in that moment I also loved her, more then I had ever thought possible. She had given me a gift, though it had come at great cost. But still, they came. They pulled her away from me and I tried to scream, tried to stop them. To her credit, she knew what was coming. And she knew that they had won. She never begged, she never wept.

“They killed her there, in front of me. A stake through her heart killed one of the most venerable Elders of Dublin, and one of the greatest Vampires of that time. They had been afraid of her and her power, and so she died. That is how our society works.

“They had no care for me, one way or another. I was given a choice. I could remain in Dublin and die like my sire before me, or I could leave. I would be given the education I needed to survive, and then I could leave and never return to the city. I could die and waste what Teaghanne had given me, what she had sacrificed for me. Or I could find a way to live with what I had become, with the monster that had been unlocked inside me. I knew that if Teaghanne had not been weak from saving my life, she would have been able to save her own.”

He shook his head and looked out over the fountain, his eyes surveying the people in the park. They were all laughing and smiles, living their lives day by day, never knowing about the world around him. The look I saw on his face then was one of incredible sadness and immense desire. “Of course, Little Bird, I chose to live.”

Chapter 4 - Rendezvous

Chapter 4 – Rendezvous

I spent my entire day looking for something to wear. I called in sick to work, citing yet another unnamed illness, and proceeded to spend my entire day alternating between napping and scavenging in my closet for something suitable to wear. I wanted to impress him, to show him I was more then a weak, pathetic human. Really though, what does one wear to impress someone who has been around for possibly hundreds of years and has seen the rise and fall of numerous fashion trends? I was torn between going casual or going costume. Pant-suit or dress, slutty or conservative. He might be evil, but I still wanted to show him that I was in control of myself and how put-together I was. While I went through the motions of trying on every piece of clothing I owned twice, my mind was running a mile a minute. I had discovered a new bad habit of talking to myself when I was alone.

The conversation was a little frustrating honestly, and went something like this: 'Lexy. Lexy, seriously, you know this is a really bad idea. With a capital B. This guy – I don't care how pretty he might be – he's not a good guy. He isn't a knight in shining armor, and he is definitely not any sort of Prince Charming. Hello! Wake up, you idiot! He's some kind of Creature of the Night, fangs and doom and living in the dirt! Do you really want to hit that? Do you really care what kind of impression you make on him? You can do so much better then this. Sure, you guys are meeting in a public place, but do you really think that'll stop him when he decides he wants to eat you? Or worse, what if he tries to make you like him? You love sun bathing! What will you do if you don't have your sun-kissed tan? Are you really content being his sex slave puppet for eternity, cause you know that's what he'll do with you. I really don't want to be a sex slave. Like, really really really don't want to be anyone's sex slave. Yes, he's cute, I'll give you that much...but no! No sex!'

As luck would have it, not only had I become very good at lying to everyone in my life, but I'd also become exceptionally adept at ignoring all the bullshit my mind was trying to tell me. I had learned to lock that little voice away and ignore her while I dealt with the real world. So I did just that, rationalizing it by saying that the little voice was just scared of losing the boring mundane hole of a life that I had been stuffed into.

At that point, I started to realize that despite my sheer terror over what I was doing and what was happening to me – I was very excited to do this. The thrill of knowing something unique, of learning some deep dark secret of humanity was really was kept me on this path. Yes, my new buddy was very attractive, but not even a drop dead gorgeous man who obviously worked out was enough to make me risk everything. I really hoped he didn't think that I did what I did out of lust for him. No, I was doing all of this because I had to learn what was out there. No idea what the hell I would do with the knowledge once I had it, but that didn't matter.

Looking back at it all makes me laugh. I had no idea what I was getting into in those days. My tough-girl attitude was total bullshit, and I was in completely over my head. Even from the very beginning.

I arrived at the plaza early, just as the sun was starting to dip low in the horizon. The last weak rays of the early spring day illuminated the waters of the fountain, setting them on fire as they danced to unheard music. I couldn't help but smile as I watched the dance, letting myself get lost in my own thoughts. Buckingham Fountain had always been one of my favorite places in the city; when I had been younger, I had come here regularly. It had been my place of solitude as a teenager. I would come here to think and to dream and to escape the dreary life of my teenage years. Which had turned into a dreary life in my adult years. It was ironic that he brought me back here to tell me the things that would shatter my world and change my perspective on everything.

His voice was soft in my ear. I'm not sure if I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to hear him, or if he was just completely silent when he moved. Pretty sure its more of the former. “It is a beautiful sight, isn't it, Little Bird?”

I twitched slightly as he spoke, but I wasn't really surprised. I hadn't assumed that he would do this like a normal guy, after all. I nodded once and glanced at him for a moment, giving a bit of a smile before looking back to the water, “Yeah. It is.”

I didn't offer anything more, and he didn't speak for several long minutes as we watched night fall completely over the area. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the dance before us, the illuminated waters seeming to comfort my torn soul. The soft sound of the water and the peacefulness of the place brought tears to my eyes. The weeks of watching and waiting and not sleeping in terror were beginning to wear on me. The momentary peace made me almost want to give it all up.

The waters began to die down slowly and I sighed. My voice was soft and I never looked at him. Hell, I didn't even realize I was talking out loud at first. “I used to come here with my father, when I was a little girl. It was our special place. Kind of our secret place. We'd come here at least every other month, just to sit and watch the water dance. He'd buy me ice-cream or hot-cocoa and we'd sit here and talk. It didn't matter what we were talking about, we were both just happy to be here. It made me feel special, knowing that we had this place together, and that we always had that time together. I always used to look forward to our days out here, we'd plan them together weeks in advance.”

I shook my head, feeling the memories come flooding back, “As I got older, we came here less and less every year. I was too busy with school and friends and a budding social life. He didn't want to force me to come out here with him, he always wanted it to be something I wanted...he said it would lose all of its appeal if I wasn't totally into it. By the time I was 15, we only came once or twice a year, and every time I was rushing him home. I wasn't begging him to stay just a few minutes longer anymore, no, I was begging him to get us home. I always had to meet a boy or there was a tv show on – it didn't really matter what it was that I had to do, it was always more important then him. It was always more important then our time together.”

I could feel him take a step closer to me, though he didn't say a word. I bent over for a moment, letting my fingertips trail through the cool water. “The last time we were here, I was 17. That time, he did make me come. I...was not a good kid. I was having a lot of problems in school, hanging out with a really bad group of kids. He wanted to talk to me about my future and what I was doing to my life. He was worried about me, afraid that I was going to throw everything away with shitty choices and a worse attitude. He was right, but of course I wasn't going to listen to him.

“I made a scene. I screamed at him and told him I hated him. I told him he was ruining my life and holding me back and that I never wanted to see him again. I was screaming and crying and carrying on, and people were stopping and staring at us. He just kept looking at me with love and compassion and a desire to help me and make it better. I didn't want him to look at me, I didn't want him to love me, so I ran. I remember...being so damn angry at him. So upset that he would dare try to tell me that my actions would ruin my life. So instead of facing up to the music and admitting that he was right...I ran. I ran to a friends house, one of those...really horrible friends who didn't have anything good to say.

“I went home the next day. I was a delinquent, but I wasn't a horrible kid. After I had calmed down a little, I started to feel bad about yelling at him. I knew deep down that he was looking out for me...even worse, I knew that he was right. I wanted to make it up to him, if I could. Even through that, I was still a daddy's girl, and I didn't want my daddy to be mad at me.”

I paused in my story, looking into the water and swallowing hard. I could feel the tears starting to well up and for the life of me, I couldn't recall why I was talking about my deepest darkest innermost pain with my new monster buddy. But the floodgates had been opened, and there was no going back now. Plus, it just seemed like it was the right thing to do, and I was pretty sure I needed the catharsis. He still stood beside me, watching as I spoke. He was close enough that I could feel him, but not so close that I felt crowded by him.

“There were cars at the house, a lot more then there should have been. I didn't recognize them until I got closer. My mom's car, my dad's jeep, my Aunt Cindy's SUV. And...a police car, and a hearse. I remember that feeling deep in my stomach as I ran inside. I knew something horrible had happened...as I got inside, I watched two guys wheeling a gurney out of my parents bedroom with a black bag on it, and I knew what had happened.

“It was a heart attack. Sudden onset, nothing they could have done. He'd had no signs of it before...it just happened. He was 41 years old, in good health, with young children...and he had a goddamned heart attack. He had come home after our fight, and he was upset that I'd reacted the way I did and that I'd run away. He told my mother he wasn't feeling well and that he was going to nap. She offered to stay up and wait for me...she knew I'd be home eventually, in my own time, and she wanted to make sure I was ok. She was up all night, and ended up falling asleep on the couch. When she found him in the morning...” I sighed heavily and shook my head, “They said it happened in his sleep, and he didn't feel a thing. That no one was to blame for it.”

I laughed a little and shook my head, glancing at him for a moment, “He was right, you know. I was on one hell of a path of destruction. I wasn't willing to see it then but I know that he was right. If something hadn't change, I would have been in a shit ton of trouble. And I probably wouldn't be here right now...jail or worse. Of course, if I'd listened to him...you know, if I'd been a better kid, my mom wouldn't have been staying up all night with me. She might have had time to get help for him...”

He spoke up, his voice quiet. He looked down at me with a lifted brow, one hand lightly brushing my shoulder as I turned to look at him, “You aren't to blame for his death. Even if you hadn't fought with him, he may have died.”

“Yeah. I know I'm not. I don't really blame myself for it anymore. Not much, at least.” I shook my head and gave him a bit of a smile, stepping away from him, “Um. Sorry, about that. I didn't mean to go off on a tangent. I didn't call you to listen to all of my emotional baggage.”

He shook his head once, his eyes focused on me, “No, Alexandra. You didn't. You may talk about your past if you wish, but you are correct – it had no bearing on why we are here this evening. And what it is we need to discuss.”

I could feel a fierce blush creeping up my cheeks. I was mortified that I had spilled my guts to this monster that I didn't even know. Maybe he'd hypnotized me, that would be a good reason for the emotional vomit that was all over our shoes. I just sighed, shaking my head, “Ok...well. Let's talk then.”

He continued to watch me for a moment, canting his head to one side and examining me. I looked away from him, back towards the water. I was pretty sure he could read my thoughts, but maybe that would make it a little harder for him. He nodded after a moment, “Yes. Lets. You may start by asking me questions and I will answer them to the best of my ability.”

I started, looking up at him incredulously before glancing around the plaza, frowning deeply at all of the people out and about. The weather was still cool, but there were more then enough people enjoying the spring, “Here? Now? With all of these people around? What if they hear you?”

He laughed, and I could hear a coldness in his tone, “We can say whatever we wish, and they will all forget it in the morning. At best, they will think we are discussing some new and exciting fantasy novel. Isn't that what you told your librarians, after all? At worst, we are rabid role-players who are a bit too immersed in their make-believe play time. They won't believe if, and they won't think twice about what we say to one another. Trust me when I tell you, the safest place for us to meet is in the public eye.”

I watched him, baffled. How had they stayed hidden for so many years if all of their meetings took place out in public? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, my past memories of the place still trying to seep in along the sides, “I don't even know where to begin, Ciaran. I want to know everything. I think that I need to know everything. How you came to be a...whatever it is that you really are. The whys and the hows. How many are you? What is truth, what is fiction? Did Anne Rice get it all right or was she totally off her rocker? I want to know everything, Ciaran.”

He looked at me, those piercing eyes slowly searching my soul. When he spoke, his voice was soft, carrying a deathly serious undertone, “And are you truly prepared to give it all away, Little Bird? Are you prepared to sacrifice everything that you have in this life, in your existence, just to know what it is that lies beneath? I hope that you know what that may entail.”

To my credit, I hesitated for only a moment. I had thought about it for hours on end. In the end, I had come to the conclusion that the information was worth it. “If I weren't willing, I wouldn't be here right now, would I?”

He nodded, smiling slightly. I had to suppress a brief shudder as I caught a glimpse of a particularly long tooth in the rising moonlight. “Then I will speak, and you will listen until I am finished. No questions, no comments, no pithy statements until I am done. Do you understand that, Ms. Romen?”

I smirked a little. Guy really did know me. “Yeah, I understand.”

“This is your last chance to back out, Alexandra. After this, you can't go back...”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. The opportunity was appreciated, but not needed. I knew just what I wanted, “Just talk, Ciaran.”

Chapter 3 - Learning

Chapter 3 – Learning

So, there I was, finding myself incredibly attracted to a gorgeous man who was some kind of creature of the night. Something out of myths and legends. He definitely didn't look like any of the television or movie vampires I'd ever seen before, but there wasn't getting around what he was. He had neither confirmed nor denied what he was, but it was pretty easy to figure it out. Just thinking of him as a Vampire, some kind of obscure lord of the night, made me twitch a little. At the time, I couldn’t imagine what was fueling my attraction. I couldn’t tell if I had some kind of sick fascination with the fact that he was a monster, or maybe I was just feeling particularly suicidal. It might have been those sparkling eyes that seemed to peer into my soul every time he looked at me or the way that his thick dark hair fell around his face. No matter what it was, it was intense, and the feelings weren’t going to go away on their own.

I spent four day after our little rendezvous in the library, debating whether or not I wanted to call him. It was a distinct possibility that he would be able to tell me what I wanted to know. Of course, his little caveat of ‘Nothing is free’ was a little worrying. What exactly did he mean by that? What could I offer him that he couldn’t find elsewhere? And it was pretty obvious that I couldn’t trust him. He had been watching me for weeks, and I must be little more then a tasty treat to him. Then again, as he’d already demonstrated, if he’d really wanted me for dinner, he would have done it already. It made me a little wary. Even so, I had to learn more. I needed someone that I could talk to about what I had seen and what had happened, because it was slowly starting to rip my little silly mind into pieces.

I grew more paranoid by the day. I was always looking around me at the people on the street, searching for the next mythical creature to pop out and scare me. Was the hot dog vendor a Vampire? Or maybe my friendly neighborhood bag lady was a werewolf? Oohh, maybe the security guard at my job was some kind of Frankenstein monster. He certainly had the personality for it, always glaring at me. I was just waiting to find some kind of witch or warlock, or even better, some kind of Cthulu-esque creature with tentacles just waiting for me to happen by, all unsuspecting nubile woman flesh. Yeap, I’ve seen too many movies. It seemed like no matter where I turned, my mind was concocting some new monster that was going to jump out of the shadows and devour me alive. Made for interesting nights, let me tell you.

The thought of calling my new monster friend grew more and more appealing by the day. I couldn’t get my brain to stop working and mulling over what I had seen, I figured I might as well give it some real hard information that it could digest, before it started leaking out my ears. Either I would find out enough from him to ease my brain and hopefully be able to sleep at night, or he’d be having a lovely light snack. Given the choice of everyone in my life knowing that I was a total nut job or my last moments being spent devoured by an incredibly attractive man – well, to be honest, that was kind of a difficult choice to make.

It took my best friend of many years and her latest attempt at relationship intervention to really solidify the decision for me.

I met Annie for lunch a week after my second run-in with the Dark Avenger. I mean, Ciaran. I had known her for years, since college when we’d both been proud members of the same sorority. I had been the Maid of Honor in her wedding, as well as her emotional shoulder through two miscarriages and the death of her mother. Our friendship had endured through the years in a way that I had never anticipated. She knew me better then anyone else in my life, and she knew as soon as she saw me that something was going on. I could see it in her eyes, and in the way she ordered us both a stiff drink moments after seeing me. In true Annie fashion, she didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

“What’s going on with you, Lexy? You look like hell.” Always blunt, thanks Annie.

I was afraid of this. This was precisely the reason I had been avoiding her for the past month. I’d run the gamut of excuses, from work to a vicious cold to having family in town. I had spent the past two days practicing for this moment, knowing that she was going to be the one that I really had to convince. I gave her what I hoped was a winning smile, sipping my drink slowly, “What do you mean, Annie?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked at me. Being a 3^rd grade teacher had made her incredibly astute, and she knew when someone was avoiding the truth. “Don’t play dumb with me, Lex. What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Is it work? Is your boss being a dick again?”

I sighed a little and looked down at my drink. It was one thing to lie to my boss at my co-workers and the other potted plants in my life. It was another thing entirely to try to lie to my best friend and the sister I’d never had. “Just…I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. It’s really nothing big, nothing to worry about. You know how work gets, and they fired the other para so my case load just got heavier. I’m ok though. Really.” Bullshit. I’m such a horrible liar.

She shook her head, watching me closely, “I can’t help but worry about you, Lex. You are my best friend, and you look like you are falling apart. Let me help, Lexy…I want to help. You just gotta tell me what is going on before I can do anything.”

I just sighed a little and shook my head, “Oh Annie…I appreciate it, you know I do. But I just don’t think this is something that you can help with. I don’t think anyone can help me with this.”

She seemed to mull over it for a moment, a grin flashing across her face. Uh-oh. I knew that look. She leaned forward, her voice low, “Is it guy trouble?”

My mind perked up at her excitement and latched onto the one thing that I could tell her that might keep her from badgering me too much. Lucky for both of us, I was starting to get pretty good at the whole lying thing. “No. Well. Kind of, I guess. There is this one guy...”

She grinned at me, practically bouncing her perky blonde ass out of her seat. She had been trying to marry me off for years, always on the lookout for a friend of her husbands' who would make me a happy wife. I still wasn't sure if it was because she wanted couples night with me, or the thrill of being my Maid of Honor and planning my wedding for me. “Yeah? Is he cute? Intelligent? Rich? What does he do for a living? How did you meet? Oh my god, Lexy! I can't believe you didn't call and tell me! You have to tell me everything about him!”

So our conversation turned to Ciaran, and the fantasy world that I had placed him in. Oh yes, he was amazing in my mind. A lawyer, never been married, intelligent and handsome, a fantastic sense of humor and eyes that were always sparkling with some kind of shared joke. He loved cats, fruity drinks, and long walks on moonlit nights. By the time I was finished painting him in the best light I could think of, I was practically in love with hm myself. Annie, as predicted, was entranced, making me swear to introduce her to my new beau as soon as humanly possible. I could see the gears already turning in her head as she started plotting a spring wedding. Lucky for me, she was willing to drop the subject, fully believing that I had finally found a man that had caught my attention.

I guess it wasn't really much of a stretch. I was entranced with him. He had been on my mind constantly, and he was pretty handsome. Oh, who am I kidding, he was drop dead gorgeous. Edward had nothing on him. The visit with Annie also made me realize that I needed answers if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life – as short as it might be – slowly going insane. I needed to know about him and what he was. More then that, I had to know what else was lurking in the parking lot of my local 7-11. Screw the dangers lurking in the heart of man; I wanted to know all about the dangers lurking in every dark alleyway.

So I did the only thing I could think to do. I bit back my pride, swallowed my fear picked up the cell phone and dialed the number I already had saved in my contact list.

It seemed to ring forever. A number of concerns floated through my mind as the boring ringer slammed through my head. 'This guy really needs a ring-back tone...maybe the Buffy theme...' I started to worry that maybe he had changed his mind. What would make a Lord of the Night and Underworld and Doom want to talk to a little paralegal anyway? Maybe he had legal trouble and he needed my advice, though it seems it would be easier to just eat the guy who was trying to take you to small claims court. Or maybe he was just toying with me, and he liked his meals distressed. Could also be that he'd decided to take up suntanning, and was unavailable to answer my call.

Finally, the ringing stopped and I held my breath. There was a momentary pause, and then the voice that seemed so familiar already came on the line. I could hear the soft undertones of an accent long trained from his voice, and I could practically see that little annoying smirk on his face, “Hello, Little Bird. I wondered how long it would take you to contact me. I knew you would, it was just a matter of time.”

His silky, sultry voice made me pause for a moment, relief and desire flooding my stomach. He was the only link I had to this deep dark world that ran concurrently to our own, and I was determined not to lose what little lead I had. “I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”

There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and I knew that he was laughing at me on the inside. He'd told me that I had something, not really sure what he meant by that, but it obviously wasn't balls, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Oh. Um. Ah, well...because I kept you waiting for so long...”

“Don't apologize. I have nothing but time on my hands, and we're talking now, are we not? That is the only thing that matters to you, I think.”

“I suppose you are probably right.”

“Well then, Alexandra. You wish to learn something from me? About me, about my kind, about what exactly it is that we do and who we are? Is that correct?”

I couldn't breath for a moment. Here he was, offering me the answer to every single question my poor besotted brain could come up with, and the only thing my brain was doing was telling me to run far and fast. Apparently, brain-me was not a big fan of my new buddy. In the end, the driving need for knowledge won out. Like there was any doubt that it would. I gave a sigh and nodded, though I knew he couldn't see it. Probably. “Yeah. I have to know more, Ciaran. About you, about what you are, about...the things that you do, why you do it. This is all just driving me crazy. I don't understand what I saw, and I have to know...”

He chuckled very softly, a sound almost too low to hear, though the bitterness in his voice came through loud and clear. “Yes. Well, insanity is just one of the many things those of the night do best. Very well, Alexandra. You wish to learn of me and mine, and I have offered to teach you what I am able.”

I felt the relief wash over me, and let out a long breath I didn't even know I had been holding. I didn't realize until that moment how worried I had been that he would laugh at me and say it was all a joke. Haha, silly little morsel, erm, mortal...why would I tell you anything! I think I was waiting for him to point and laugh at me...and then rip out my still beating heart. “Thank you, Ciaran. It means a lot to me...”

His voice was low, and I could nearly see him on the other end, shaking his head and practically clucking at me, “Don't thank me yet. I will warn you now, Alexandra. Once you begin down this path you see, you cannot turn back. Your life will be intrinsically changed forever. You will be changed forever, and this is something you cannot undo once it has been done. Are you willing to accept that, and all that it entails?

I suppressed a shudder, wariness creeping back into my voice. I was pretty sure this was where he told me I was going to be his sex slave for the rest of my natural life. “What do you mean by that?”

That voice again, like a long suffering father explaining to his child that holding the bunny by the neck killed your pet, “Are you willing to give up what you have now, in order to see what the night might hold? Are you willing to change your world in order to gain the information that you so desire?”

“What...how much am I going to be giving up here.”

“Possibly everything. It is hard to tell. All I know is that your life will change, and you along with it. I only wish for you to be prepared for such changes.”

Though I had a feeling he was trying to be kind, his tone was hard and offered me no succor. I wanted to tell him no – the crazy mind-me agreed that would be a fabulous idea. I wanted to tell him to forget that I'd ever called and to forget that he'd seen me, oh yeah, and to forget that he knew where I lived and who my family was and what my schedule was like. At the same time, I knew if I hung up right now, I would never know what I was looking for. I've never been the type of girl would could pass up an opportunity that was presented to me, and the carrot that Ciaran was dangling was far too enticing to pass up. I sighed, my voice quiet. I knew he could head me. “Whatever it takes.”

His voice seemed to soften just slightly, and I could almost swear I could hear pity in that rich, chocolatey voice of his. “Very well then. We will meet tomorrow at sunset. At the fountain in Buckingham Plaza. You know the place, I believe.”

“I...well yeah. I know it. But isn't that a little...well...public? We're going to meet out in the middle of the crowds like that?”

“Yes. It is. Goodnight, Little Bird.”

With that, the line went dead. I could feel a deep seed of dread starting to form in the pit of my stomach as I stared at the phone. That voice was crying again, begging me to call him back and call the whole thing off, but I knew that it was way too late for that. Hell, it had been too late the moment I stopped at the edge of that alley way and observed what he was up to. An involuntary shudder ran through my body and I looked down at Fred, the cat my mother had given me when I had moved into this house. He was supposed to be my companionship, but like most cats, he only gave attention when it suited him. I fell onto my love seat, pulling the ball of fur up after me, petting him absently and shaking my head, speaking to no one in particular, “What the hell am I getting myself into...”

Chapter 2 - Ciaran

Chapter 2 – Ciaran

It wasn’t long before I was doubting my own sanity. That little bitch of a voice in the back of my head kept trying to convince me that it was all caused by stress, or maybe my take-out Chinese lunch had made me sick and caused hallucinations. Or maybe I was so starved for attention that I had created some kind of sick fantasy in my head where I was the heroine, swooping in to save the day. The thoughts and options ran through my head, day in and day out, constant badgering me and trying to convince me that I was wrong or crazy.

Then, like a burst of color, I would remember the man. His searing green eyes, the harsh red of her blood against skin like alabaster. Even the feel of his cool, dry, course hands touching my cheek. No, I knew for a fact that he was real, at the very least. Nothing I could ever imagine could be that vivid in my mind. And that pervasive in my dreams. Finally, my mind was willing to accept the simple facts. No, I was not crazy. Yes, something totally insane had happened before my very eyes.

Once I had finally come to terms with what I had seen, I started to wonder if I shouldn’t tell someone. I was sure I could get ahold of someone at NBC or CNN. Of course, they’d just laugh at me when I told them I’d come face to face with…well, I still wasn’t willing to put a name to him. Then the thought of hitting up the Weekly World News or Coast to Coast AM, I knew that those nut jobs would be willing to listen to my story. I was desperate to find someone who I could confide in, anyone who would listen to me rant and rave, and tell me that it was all ok and that I wasn’t really insane.

I tried to run through my list of available sounding boards, and I was sorely disappointed with my lack of suitable candidates. There was my mother, who would ignore me and set into trying to find out when I was going to get married and give her grandbabies. Or Annie, my former college roommate who had snagged herself an attractive lawyer husband and preferred talking about fashion to anything serious. My boss was a possibility, but I was fairly sure he would think I’d either gone off my rocker or had read too many murder mysteries. The Indian guy on the corner who sold me my morning coffee and bagels was probably my best bet…unfortunately, having no common language would make it a little difficult.

All I wanted was to find someone who I could share my story with. Out of everyone in Chicago, and everyone in the damn world, there had to be at least one person who wouldn’t immediately think I’d missed a dose of some kind of important medication. There had to be someone who could verify that I wasn’t crazy, and that what I had seen was real. There had to be someone out there who would understand what I had seen, who would take my hand and pat my head and tell me it would all be OK.

Every time I tried to pick up the phone to call someone, something in my brain made me toss it back down. Nothing I could say to anyone I knew would make any sense. The first time I tried to mention my experience to the world, I was sure to find myself in a shiny new white jacket and a nice comfortable room. To the world around me, Vampires were nothing more then a vehicle for a cheap horror thrill. They were the kind of thing to find from Ann Rice, Stephen King, or Charlaine Harris. But everyone knew they didn’t exist. They were nothing more then a Halloween costume. The world was mundane and safe. No preternatural predators around you, just waiting for the sheep to stray from the pack.

So I didn’t tell anyone. I was terrified of being told that I was insane, and that it was all nothing more then a silly dream. More then that though, I think I was worried that I would find someone who actually believed me and understood what I had seen. If another person confirmed what I had seen, then it would be real. So I kept it all quiet, and I pretended that I wasn’t spending every waking moment thinking about what I had seen. While I was keeping my mouth shut and pretending, I did what I could to find out more about what I had seen.

I’m not one to blow my own horn, but I am a damned fine researcher. Libraries and I are like this. I started spending every free moment I had looking for anything that could give me a bit of guidance on this subject. I avoided the pop culture references like Buffy and Twilight and delved straight into the meat of the subject. The library, the internet, and the crazy old lady at the occult shop downtown all led me back to the same place. They took me right back to the age-old legends – sunlight, garlic, running water, fangs, claws, shape-shifting. Nothing that was new, even though my experience with horror movies was limited. There were a few stories out of obscure European nations about Vampire hunts and how to deal with them, but the general consensus from scholars seemed to be that they were nothing more then Salem Witch Hunts for the dead. Of course, the general consensus from scholars was that my entire research basis was false. Everything that I came across was just another fairytale, without anything there to indicate that what I had seen was real, and not just me going a little bit insane.

Three weeks of finding nothing and I was about ready to commit myself. I was on the verge of accepting the fact that I was a lunatic, and everything I had seen was nothing more then a trick of the shadows. I figured I’d find a therapist, rock the lithium, and be pleasantly (and legally) too stoned out of my gourd to really worry about it too much. I wanted to believe that was all it was, that I was just crazy. Of course I didn’t want to believe that there was a darker undertone to the world I was accustomed to, or that there was something evil and terrifying lying in wait for me in the shadows.

Looking back, I’m shocked that no one knew that there was something wrong with me. My work fell to the wayside with missing deadlines, typos, and a complte failure to fetch coffee in the morning. I wasn’t eating well and I wasn’t sleeping a damn wink, and I can only imagine how I must have looked to the people around me. To top that off, I was never without a book describing some supernatural creature or another, and I was contstantly distracted. I think in their minds they knew that there was something wrong with me, but if they had admitted that then they would have been responsible for discovering what was wrong.

My daily life changed drastically during those weeks, completely eliminating the pathetic social life I'd had before. After work, I would spend several hours at the library, sequestering myself with dusty old books that didn't tell me a damn thing. After the librarian kicked me out, it was home for a bland T.V. Dinner and the rest of the night scouring the internet. Those forays mostly yielded Twilight and Buffy slash, half naked pictures of Erik and Bill, and not much that was of any real use. However, I was undeterred, and I knew that I would find something eventually. Or that something would find me.

Three weeks to the day after I had caught the strange man in the act, I was back at the library. It had been another rough day at the office that had culminated in me crying in the bathroom over yet another late assignment. I was fairly certain that failure at the library would only result in devouring a pint of Ben and Jerry's, but I couldn't bring myself to skip it. I grudging changed into my street clothes and trekked to the library, cursing my insatiable curiousity and wishing for anything that would make me able to sleep at night.

All the librarians had come to know me on first name basis. I was spending more hours at the library then I was sleeping, and they were always all so excited to see me. They all thought I was a writer, working on her first big novel. I had slipped them a little white lie and they'd gobbled it up. It was Bob's night to work, and I knew he would have books pulled out and waiting for me. Of all the people there, he was my favorite, a rotund St. Nicholas type man who treated me like his long-lost Granddaughter.

He gave me a wide smile as I breezed in, turning to pull the books out that he had selected for me. “Evening, Lexy! Here for the same, I assume? I found a few new ones hiding that I thought you might be interested in.”

I smiled to him and nodded, feeling a brief pang of guilt for lying to this genial old man, “You know it, Bob. More research for the book. I'm finding some really good stuff.”

He chuckled, “You know I'll want an autographed copy when you make it big, young lady!”

“You'll be the first in line!” I smiled to him as I gathered up the books, heading towards the research table that I had claimed as my own. I was about ten minutes away from carving my name in it and chaining myself down. I waved to several other regulars as I passed, finally settling in at the table in the back, a quiet little place that was well hidden by the stacks.

I shrugged out of my jacket and dropped my purse onto the table with a bit of a sigh. Like every night, I held out hope that tonight would be the night that I made my breakthrough. I would find some obscure reference that would reassure me, and I would have something real to go of. I began idly picking through the books Bob had offered, feeling more discontent with every dusty tome I picked up.

Sighing, I rubbed at my face. I couldn't even begin to tell you why I was doing all of this, why I was torturing myself day in and day out with a futile search. Why I was keeping it all to myself while looking desperately for some confirmation on what I had seen.

I turned towards the stacks. Nothing on the table looked appealing. I peered down the rows and started trudge through them, looking here and there for anything that would catch my interest. It was evening and my part of the library was completely silent, and I was confident that I could go about my research in peace. Or maybe I'd just lie my head down on a table and cry.

Looking up, I caught sight of something that immediately piqued my interest. A blood red leather cover, jutting out just slightly, practically calling my name. I couldn't read the words on the spine, but it didn't hurt to get a closer look. Looking around, I spied the rickety old staircase, pushing it closer to the book and climbing it carefully. 'Don't look down, Lexy', I reminded myself. I had never been much of a fan of heights.

I stretched towards the book, cursing under my breath as my fingertips barely grazed the spine. I glanced down and blinked, I hadn't quite realized how high off the ground I was. That was a mistake. Vertigo slapped me, and I could feel my sneakered feet slipping from their perilous grasp on the old ladder. I tried to twist as I began to fall, briefly hoping that I'd at least land in a way that I wouldn't break anything important.

Then, I wasn't falling anymore. And there hadn't been any sharp impact so I knew I wasn't on the floor. No soft lights or harp music, so I was pretty sure I wasn't dead. Warm breath brushed against the bre skin of my neck and I felt a shiver run up my spine. That voice that I kept dreaming of murmured softly in my ear, the voice low and warm, “You'd best be careful there, Little Bird. We would hate to lose you to such an unfortunate accident.”

The only thought in my mind was, 'Oh. Shit.' My pulse quickened and I struggled to push away from him and disentangle myself from his grasp. I could feel the terror bubbling up in my throat as I nearly clawed at him to get away. He just laughed at me, seeming to be genuinely amused at my plight, gently setting me back on the ground and holding onto my arms as I teetered slightly on my feet. I spun and looked up into those green eyes, glaring at him as I tried to mask my fear.

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing here? Get your hands off of me!”

His smile was almost warm as he traced a cool finger down the side of my face, his features inviting if you could forget what he was. His words were low and dangerous, “Why, I've been watching you. Keeping an eye out for you, as it were. Good thing, hm? Or you would have taken a terrible tumble.”

The space in the stacks was severely limited, but I backed away from him as much as I could. Just like before, his very presence was overpowering, and there wasn't enough room to escape him. I fumbled behind me, grabbing a book that felt suitably thick and hopefully heavy. I grasped it, opening my mouth to let out a scream to alert Bob and the geriatric security guard that I was being accosted by someone who was tall dark and handsome. I mean, fangy. Definitely not handsome.

I snapped my mouth shut as quickly as I'd opened it, my jaw crashing closed. I knew that if I said anything, if I alerted anyone, that person would end up dead at my feet, and I would be the only one to blame. I knew Bob had a family, and that was the last thing I wanted to see happen to him. So I just glared up at the man, narrowing my eyes as he let out a soft laugh.

He leaned up against his stack leisurely, examining me for a long moment, “Little Bird learns quickly.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, grasping the book in my hand and sliding it out just slightly. I'd read this one already, it had told me that Asian Vampires would have to stop and count all the rice you threw before him. Too bad my guy here wasn't Asian. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run, I knew that he had the information I was looking for. And I knew that he was quick enough to kill me before I got far. “What do you want?”

He smiled unconvincingly, shrugging up one muscular shoulder, “Just to talk with you.”

I scoffed and shook his head, “Bullshit. You don't talk. Kinda like you don't eat real food or sunbathe. I know what you are, and you are just a monster.”

His movement was a blur, and I was reminded again by the paragraph regarding their superhuman strength and speed. Well, that was true at least. He laughed, his face suddenly far too close to my own. His smell this evening was much more pleasant, sandalwood and musk, without the disgusting undertone of blood. Perhaps he was waiting to dine on Pathetic Little Paralegal.

He put one hand on either side of my head, murmuring softly into my ear, “If I were truly the monster you accuse me of being, I would have ripped your throat out already. You would have been dead before you could have said a word, and this lovely old gray carpet would never be the same.”

I could feel the smile on his lips as he changed sides, speaking into the opposite ear, “Or last week, while you were eating dinner with your lovely mother. She is quite a lovely woman, for her age. Or perhaps I would have killed you last night, while you were changing out of your drab work clothes in your equally drab condo on that exquisitely isolated and quiet street.”

He leaned back, looking deep into my eyes, his eyes cold and emotionless, “Or perhaps I would have killed you any of the other countless times I have seen you over the past three weeks. Were I truly that kind of monster, Little Bird, you would already be dead.”

I pressed myself further into the books, the spine of one sitting uncomfortably against my neck. The location of his hands prevented me from hitting at him, and I wasn't sure that I would have had the capability of it, even if my mind weren't totally overwhelmed by him. I could feel tears starting to well up in my eyes. The little bitch in the back of my head was not being overly helpful, and I had a sneaking suspicioun that she had passed out. I bit my lip hard and shook my head, determined not to cry in front of this thing and give him the satisfaction of my fear. I know my voice was shakey, and I could feel my body trembling under that intense gaze, “What the hell do you want from me?”

My words seemed to take him by surprise and he paused, considering for a moment, before looking at me with a faint smile on his cold, dead lips. I could see the calculation in his eyes, as he spoke slowly, the accent seeming to present itself more, “You make me curious, Little Bird. You've not tried to tell anyone what you saw, or what you think you saw. Why? Most children would have run to their mothers by now and tattled.”

I shook my head once, furrowing my brow, “What would they say if I told them the truth? Do you know where I'd be if I had tried to tell anyone? I'd be a laughing stock, or I'd be locked away...”

He smiled, genuine mirth on his cold face, “Then you really are smarter then I had first thought. Though internet searches and libraries won't yield you much.”

His casual words infuriated me. I had spent weeks trying to find anything more then obscure Max Schreck references, and the entire time I had been slaving away, he had been watching me and laughing at me. He must have thought I was some kind of idiot, or a sheep like all the rest of my kind. I shook my head, my fear slowly being replaced by anger, frustration at being treated like a child and tormented, “Again, what the hell do you want from me?”

Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as he watched me, his eyes searching my soul. Without another world he gave me half a smile, stepping away from me and letting his cold fingertips trace my cheek bone. I let out a deep breath, relaxing slightly at having the space between us. “You are looking for answers, Little Bird. You are searching for something that you do not truly want to be involved in. You seem to think you can leave your dull light filled world and delve into mine. You will not find the answers you seek, and you will fail in your quest. You would be better off forgetting it all, and returning to what passes for normalacy.”

Well, there goes that pride again. I tossed my head back, giving him a cold look as I narrowed my eyes, “Well, I'm not going to fail. I'll find what I'm looking for, eventually.”

He just laughed and shook his head, lifting a brow as he examined me for a moment. His voice was low and nearly sensual, “You've got a spark of something in you, I'll admit that much. More then most humans, at least. I will help you find the answers you seek, if you but ask for my assistance. Though I warn you now, it will not come free.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle, and I was struck by a thought. He was enjoying this. For an undead emotionless creature of the night, he was definitely getting his rocks off on all of this. I'm sure that I looked like an idiot to him, standing there with shock written all over my face. I had expected him to say a lot of things, but that was not on the list. “Why? Why would you do that? Why would you help me?”

“As I have already said, Alexandra, you make me curious.” His voice had taken on a tone of patience, as though he were speaking to a child. A child that had come to him with a particularly interesting frog.

He gave me that half smile again and leaned forward, producing a business card out of thin air and slipping it into my hand. All I could do was blink and look down at the card. It was plain; white with black script, but obviously expensive. All it said was 'Ciaran', with a phone number beneath it. I shook my head, not quite understanding what he wanted from me or what I had agreed to. “But...”

When I lifted my eyes, he had gone. All that lingered was his scent and the card in my hand, the only indication that he was not just a sexy figment of my imagination. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, leaning back against the stacks. My knees were trembling as the adrenaline started to drain from my body, and I had the sneaking suspicion that I was about to pass out.

I shook my head, breathing his name softly. I could feel the tremble that ran up my spine, and I couldn't help but summon up those striking eyes in my mind. Oh yeah, this was only going to end in tears.

Chapter 1 - Lexy

Chapter 1 – Lexy

You go through your everyday life; wake up, brush your teeth, kiss your kids, slap your wife on the ass. Drive to work, curse the toll road, adjust your stapler, stare at the mail lady. Head home, curse the toll road again, waltz into a comfortable house where a warm dinner waits. Have a glass of wine. Hell, have two. Read your daughter a scary bed-time story, tuck your son in and promise to play baseball with him, and take your wife to be to remind yourself that you are still alive and still a man.

For the majority of the world, it is the same story every day. Life. You wake up and go about your business, dying a little more inside with every mundane step you take. So many people go through their day with blinders on their eyes, ignorant to the world around them. How many people do you think truly question reality, and allow that fleeting thought that perhaps there is something more then meets the eye? Those that pause in their day to think about such things are oftentimes interrupted by the most mundane – a taxi flies by, splashing them with water, or the boss screams about a deadline, or a kid falls down the stairs – and that thought is lost again, off somewhere in the ether.

There are precious few who see the world as it truly is. Blessed – or perhaps cursed – with an understanding of the undercurrent of our society.

I was that person, once upon a time. I was a completely mundane paralegal, slaving day in and out for a small law firm in Chicago. My routine was the same every day – wake up, go to work, come home to an empty apartment and watch re-runs with the cat, eat bon-bons and swear I’ll exercise in the morning to make up for it, fall into a dreamless sleep. I was dying a little inside every morning, without even realizing that I was slowly killing myself. I thought I was content with my life, and I never really let myself think about the idea that I might be missing something more.

In the back of my mind, I thought, ‘If there is anything more to life then this, then I’m already missing it. I’ll pretend everything is perfect, because I don’t want to end up hating myself and my life.’ Better to be happy and ignorant then unhappy in your enlightenment, right? That was my thought at least.

I could tell you all about who I was back then. How I lived my life surrounded by monotony and delicious Godiva chocolates. I could bore you for hours, but that woman is long dead. I looked at myself in an old photo the other day, and I didn’t even recognize her. So innocent, so young…part of me would give anything to return to those days, where the most I had to worry about was what flavor of Lean Cuisine was occupying my freezer space.

Like many epiphanies, my life changed in a matter of moments. It was something small; something that most people would have ignored and passed by. Hell, most days, I would have missed it myself. I would still be living in my blissful ignorance. But for some reason on that particular night, I saw more then I was ever meant to see. In that brief moment, an entirely new world opened up to me.

It was the middle of March and freezing cold for Chicago that time of year. I was having one of those days already; you know the kind where nothing goes right for you. I had a run in my hose, I dropped my beloved double chocolate mocha, and my computer devoured a report an hour before the deadline. The final straw – the dreaded sound of my favorite heel snapping on the concrete. Yeah, it was one of those days.

I left the office three hours later then I normally would on a Wednesday, trying to finish the report that my boss had graciously given me an extra day to complete. By the time I was stepping out of the office it was dark, all of the shops in the area long closed. Most nights, I would have hailed myself a cab and been done with it. After the frustration of my day, I felt like I needed to blow off some steam. I pulled on my heavy wool coat, the sneakers I kept stashed in my bottom drawer, and I set out on the three mile hike home. The walk took me through some less then desirable neighborhoods, but the little bottle of mace in my purse and cell phone hidden in my pocket reassured me.

It has been three years since that night, and I still remember every detail. Looking back, I can recognize that heavy feeling of dread in my stomach, a feeling that at the time was chalked up to a frustrating day. I was so wrapped up in myself and my own irritation that I ignored all of the warning signs. Bells and whistles and alarms and a marching band couldn’t make me wake up.

I don’t know why I stopped. There was no sound, nothing that would force me to halt my rapid march towards chocolate and wine. It might have been cosmic intervention or my brain finally catching up to the fact that something was not right, that huge warning signs were waving all over the place. Or maybe some kind of deeply ingrained sixth sense, tingling up my spine and reminding me to open my eyes and truly look. Whatever it was, it made me freeze in my tracks and come to my senses, looking around me. I stopped in front of a pizzeria, the smell of pepperoni and cheese nearly enough to drive me wild. A neon sign shone down around me, alerting the world that Joe’s Pizza was Hot! Fresh! and most of all, Delicious!

A man and a woman stood in the dark alley, just barely in sight. If I’d stopped a foot further back or forward, I wouldn’t have even seen them. Time seemed to slow all around me as I watched them, curiosity rising even as a distant part of my brain screamed and prodded at me to keep moving. It was repeating the Big City Mantra, ‘Head down, move along, nothing to see here, don’t stop, don’t get involved!’ The numbness of my anger and frustration was quickly fading, transformed into a sprig of terror, my emergency bells exploding in my head.

Against my better judgment, I ignored all of the warning signs, watching the couple in what appeared to be a lovers embrace. A tall man, his body mostly obscured by a heavy wool coat and a beautiful young woman, fine blonde hair pulled out of her elegant French twist and falling around their faces, obscuring their expressions. She was in an expensive dress and heels, and my mind tried to comprehend as it babbled, ‘God you are such a perv! They’re just a nice young couple, out on a date, enjoying themselves. You know what your mother would have said – spring is in their blood. Lets just…move along, and leave them be. They’ll be angry.’

He had her pushed up against the grimy wall and I winced. That dress was expensive, and wall was filthy – I sure hoped he’s worth it. He had one hand on her waist, the other on the back of her neck. I watched as he continued to kiss her neck, her eyes closed in an expression of pure ecstasy as her hands ran up and down his arm slowly, like a woman in a dream. Part of me felt dirty, watching what was obviously a private moment between two consenting adults. But another part of me urged me forward, closer to them.

I felt like I was entering some kind of crazy dream world as I stepped closer to them, bathed in the neon light. My mind was screaming, begging and pleading with me to turn around and run away. I silenced that part of my mind, ignoring her as I continued forward. It felt as though something was drawing me closer towards the couple that wasn’t really a couple. My stomach turned – one part anger, one part worry, and two parts fear, and I swallowed hard on the bile that was threatening to rise.

He shifted ever so slightly as I watched them, eliciting a soft sound from the woman. From my new vantage point, I was able to see something on her, something wet on the side of her neck. Something dark and wet and thick, running slowly down the pristine peach of her skin. I suppressed a shudder, taking another hesitant step forward. Headlights from a passing car illuminated the couple. It was only for a moment, but it confirmed my worst fears. The red was shocking against her skin, and I could only gape as I watched it trickle down towards the swell of ample bosom. My mind continued to try to reason, that little voice reaching a fever pitch in the back of my mind, ‘They’re just kinky! Crazy, kinky, kooky kids! They’re just enjoying the cool night…its March…its spring.’ Yeah. Crazy kinky sex in the freezing night air, in a bad part of town, in a filthy side alley that looked like it was best suited to a cameo in CSI. I ignored that pathetic voice and stepped closer towards them, holding my breath. Neither lifted their head, both seemed to be totally engrossed in their private little moment.

Terror coursed through my veins, my blood pounding in my ears. I felt hot and cold at the same time, but I was determined. My mind railed against what I was seeing, desperately attempting to convince me that there was nothing there to see, that the world wasn’t really more then I thought. Move along, nothing to see here, life is just peachy and fine. Something deeper in my brain demanded to know the truth, to know what he was doing to this poor woman. To know what he was, though my brain was already trying to rationalize that one away. My fingers fumbled in my pocket, searching out my cell phone and grasping it tightly.

I called out to them, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. He’d know I was terrified, but maybe I could scare him off anyway, “Excuse me? What are you doing to her? Ma’am, are you alright?”

The man whipped around, his eyes boring into my soul, and I felt my mouth go dry and my stomach flip-flop. Good thing I hadn’t eaten all day.

Blood trailed down his chin from one side of his perfectly formed lips. They were stained red, presumably with the blood of his victim. Green, cat-like eyes burned from a pale face, porcelain like skin framed by thick dark hair that begged to have fingers run through it. His hair was long and pulled back into a tight braid, away from his face. ‘All the better to stay out of your food,’ I thought.

My initial reaction of terror was tempered with a burning lust for him. Beauty seemed to radiate from him, overcoming my instant revulsion and almost making me forget that his face was smeared with blood like some devil child at a birthday party. He gave me a humorless smile, his lips stretching thinly over pristine white teeth. I could see a hint of something in his smile that made my stomach drop. I was no fan girl, but I knew what they were.

He spoke softly, his voice conveying a tone that brooked no disobedience, “Perhaps, little bird, you should just turn around and go about your business.” He smiled to me again, before returning to the warm meal before him. I shivered as the woman let out a soft whimper, a noise that I knew wasn’t entirely from pain. She was enjoying it, almost as much as he seemed to be.

Much to my chagrin, I nearly obeyed him. I almost turned on my heel and walked away from all of it, exactly as he had suggested. I struggled with my desire to leave, to brush off the encounter and chalk it up to a crazy couple in lust, to forget the strange but viscerally beautiful man before me. Somewhere, I knew that if I left at that very moment, I would be able to forget it all. I would have the chance to brush off the encounter and return to my mundane life, living and dying slowly just like I’d always wanted.

I resisted the urge. The memory of his eyes seemed to burn into my soul, but instead of running off like good little sheep, I took another shaky step towards him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir…I think perhaps you should let her go.” I clenched my hands tightly, nails digging into my palms, praying that he wouldn’t be able to see the way I trembled.

He let out a soft, guttural growl, turning to face me again. An evil smile spread slowly across those sensual lips. The woman let out a soft, whimpery cry, seeming to be unhappy that his attentions had been diverted again. I watched him, dumbstruck, as he cupped his victims face in both hands. He murmured something softly, the language completely foreign to my ears. The woman seemed to understand though, her eyes fluttering closed as she sank gracefully to the ground, her forehead resting on her knees. She seemed to be in a deep sleep, though I had no idea how anyone could sleep at a time like this. I was fairly certain I wouldn’t sleep for weeks.

My mind fell silent as he turned towards me; apparently it was too terrified to even bitch at me. The blood stood stark against his pale skin as he moved closer, his steps meticulously calculated. He moved slowly like a panther stalking its prey. I stumbled away for him, glad that I was wearing sturdy sneakers rather then my flimsy heels. I clutched my purse to my chest as though it would somehow save me from the creature in my path.

His voice was cool and low, softly accented even though my terror struck brain couldn’t quite ping what country he was from. “One last chance, little bird. Turn around and go home, forget what you saw. Go back to your life, sad as it might be. Run along and leave us be.”

That desire to run was nearly overwhelming. My lizard brain was struggling to gain control, and it was screaming, ‘Flight, flight you dumb bitch! No, no no no, don’t fight! I said flight! God you are stupid…’ Believe me when I say I wanted to. I wanted nothing more then to run away from those dead eyes and that miserable looking girl as fast and as far as my feet could carry me. I think if I’d run that day, I would still be running. Moving from city to city, always peering around corners and waiting to see those panthers eyes again right before they pounced.

Running would have been the rational thing to do. So of course, I didn’t. I stood my ground, firmly digging my heels in. My father always said my stubbornness came through his Irish blood, and that heritage was usually a credit in my favor. I can’t tell you what compelled me to stay. It might have been the sad girl; I couldn’t leave her at the mercy of this beautiful monster. Or it might have been those startling green eyes that seemed to burn into my soul. They still do, daily, if you want to know the truth.

All I could do was shake my head, swallow hard, and struggle to find my voice. I put on a bit of a smile, though I can only imagine how ghastly it must have looked. I shook my head, slipping my cell phone out of my pocket and dialing quietly, “No, I think you need to leave now.”

I didn’t see him move. Before I could inhale, or complete my desperate 911 call, he was upon me. Without even touching me he pushed me back into the wall, and somewhere in the back of my brain I cursed the dry cleaning bill that would come from this little encounter. He slammed his hands into the brick on either side of my head and I let out a terrified scream, my eyes darting around hoping for a white knight to ride in and save me. No knights, Lexy. Just stupid paralegals who meddle in the affairs of others.

I forced myself to look up into those searing eyes, the tiny me in my mind rocking back and forth and uttering all of the prayers she could recall from my years as a Catholic school girl. Unfortunately, I’d never been very devout. I recoiled from the look in those eyes – a coldness that I’d never seen before. I’d worked as a paralegal for several years, and I’d encountered more then one hardened killer. Even they had more life in their eyes then this guy did. He was a true monster, and I was pretty sure I was looking into the face of evil.

He looked down at me for a long moment, a smoldering, seductive smile stretching across his lips. I watched his smile, those made only in Hollywood teeth sliding into view again, as large as life and only inches away from my face. He let out a low chuckle, and I could smell the copper on his breath, a left-over gift from Ms. Young and Tasty.

I gagged on the smell as he bent close to my neck, murmuring softly like a lover into my ear. “You are either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, my Little Bird. I haven’t quite decided yet. You have no idea who you are toying with, girl.” His words were like honey, caressing me with warm tones and that oh-so-sexy accent that I couldn’t quite place. Even through my terror, I could feel a sense of calm threatening to invade my brain.

I swallowed painfully, struggling against a blanket of peacefulness that was trying to steal over my consciousness. I glanced up at him, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek hard, resolving to stand firm before this man whose very presence seemed to fill the entirety of the alley. I started running through witty comments that would have inevitably ended in my demise, with him laughing as he lopped off my head. He must have read my mind, for he smiled down at me and chuckled humorlessly, the chiseled features of his face never softening. He let a hand slowly stoke my cheek, his touch matching his cool, statuesque features. I shied away from his touch as best I could, swallowing hard, “What the hell are you?”

He just laughed, taking his amusement from my obvious fear and discomfort. His voice was soft, but it seemed to fill the night air, reverberate around me, “I am the night, Little Bird.”

I was frozen. I couldn’t say anything and I couldn’t move. I looked into his eyes, and I felt as though I was drowning in the green of them. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment it seemed as though I’d forgotten how to breathe, perhaps even my heart had forgotten how to beat. I don’t know how long we stayed that way, but he finally broke my entrancement with a laugh, this one filled with what sounded like genuine mirth. He smirked at me and turned away, his hand resting on my cheek for just a moment.

“We’ll meet again, Little Bird.”

Before I could blink, he was gone. All that remained of him was his scent; a quickly fading concoction of sandalwood, musk, and fresh blood. I could still see his eyes, those cold brilliant eyes burning into his soul. I tried to suppress a shudder and failed miserably. Fear, revulsion and desire all rolled into one confusing ball in my stomach.

I will never forget that painful feeling of loss and terror, the air around me having taken on a sharp chill that I hadn’t noticed before. I was terrified of him, I was disgusted by him, but I still couldn’t deny some small measure of attraction. That little rational voice in my head, so quick to bounce back after nearly becoming a midnight snack, just had to put in her $0.02, ‘Yay! Look at you! I’m going to call you Stockholm Girl from now on!’

A soft whimpering from the ground brought reality rushing back around me. The attractive blonde was sitting up on the pavement, shivering and holding her bloody neck, weeping and bewildered. With it, another wave of nausea swept over me. I finished my call and rushed to her side, trying to push her assailant from my mind.

The woman, Annabelle, remembered nothing about the attack. She recalled partying at a nearby club with some friends and leaving early, heading home on her own. The club she recalled was on the other side of town, and she had no recollection about how she crossed the city with a strange man she had never met before. The police questioned her before bundling her off into an ambulance. The wounds on her neck weren’t life threatening, but her apparent lack of memory was of some concern.

“Ma’am? We need your statement…” I looked up at the adorable officer and sighed a little. He looked like he was all of 12 years old. In my mind, I ran through what I had seen, and what I was going to tell him. ‘Yes, officer! That poor woman was attacked by what I am fairly sure is a mythical creature of nightmares! He was terribly handsome, in that serial killer way. Don’t worry though; I was able to chase him off with my charming good looks and my rapier wit.’ Yeah. Right. She’d be joining her new friend Annabelle down at the local nuthouse. They could get matching straight jackets and room together, at least until Mr. Tall Dark Handsome and Deadly came back for his leftovers.

I shuddered violently and bit my lip, holding back something that would have probably come out as a gruesome mix of giggle and sob. The officer looked at me sharply, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t as young as he looked. Nor as stupid. He eyed me knowing that I was holding something back and gently touched my arm.

“Ms. Roman, is everything alright? What can you tell me about what you saw this evening? I assure you, we will do everything in our power to keep you safe and to find the man who did this…”

For just a moment I was tempted to tell him everything. His comforting blue eyes and sandy blonde hair were so different from the girls’ attacker. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, that rational voice gently reminded me how much I liked the use of my arms. I just smiled a little and shook her head, “I’m sorry, I’m just kind of shook up, I guess. I didn’t see much. I was on my way home from the office…as I was walking by, some guy nearly ran me over. I didn’t get a very good look at him…he had black hair and he was about 6’2, wearing a long coat. I looked in here and she was on the ground, crying. I guess I spooked him or something, walking up.”

I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t believe a word of it. He could see that I had seen something that had affected me more deeply then I was letting on. He sighed and shook his head, the status quo overtaking his desire for knowledge. Flipping his notebook shut he nodded to me, “Thank you, Miss Roman. We’ll definitely be in touch…”

It had been a long day, and I was running on autopilot. I returned the smile, shakily, murmuring, “Call me Lexy…”

NaNoWriMo 2010

Well, I'm at it. Again.

This year, I'm going to start off with re-writing what I started in 2006. I know it isn't "original", but it's been 4 years, and this story is burning a hole in my brain. I'm not sure if it's any good or not yet...unfortunately, I'm a hell of a critic, and super hard on myself.

I'll be posting the chapters as I finish them. The first 12 or 13 should come fairly quickly, as those bits have been written before. I'd love feed back - positive or negative - as long as its more then just, 'Wow you suck.' or 'Wow you're Awesome!'

Because I am in school and working full time AND getting ready for a cross-country move, my goal is 25k original words, which would put me at about 60k by the end of the month. I think it is doable, as long as I take the time to just write and write and write.

I'd really like to finish this story some day.

Title is undecided, as of yet. Working title is Lexy. (rhymes with sexy, muwahahaha!)

One of the things we've been reading about in my Composition class is journaling. I've always had journals, since I was a little girl. The thing is, I always thought my life was too boring to really journal about...so I'd make up these great fantastic stories in my ever day journal. I'd write and write about this thing or that thing, but rarely about what was real. Even in recent years, when I've had a livejournal, it was rarely writing for ME, but almost always writing for OTHERS. I almost always write with an audience in mind. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not...

So, I'm going to attempt to journal/blog more often. It's not going to be every day - I just don't have the time for that. And the reason I'm doing it here rather then lj is because I wanted a fresh start. I can write whatever comes to mind...maybe I'll talk about things going on in my life, maybe I'll talk about stuff in the news or going on in the world, or my past. I haven't decided yet.

So anyway. Journaling. Thats what my Comp book says I should do. My life is pretty boring, I think...oh well. :)