Rhyland, blinded by the white hot burn of thirst, was robbed of his heightened senses. You’d think a vampire’s hunger would increase their ability to see and hear, right? - No, the only sense that trebled when ravenous was their sense of smell at such a sapling age. A vampire as young as he, so fresh to this unborn life, stood no chance against two very adept hunters.

He just didn’t know that yet…

Rhyland remained frozen, crouched and braced for his new guests arrival. His pupils had fully dilated, becoming increasingly more blood shot as his food source approached. The talon, made for making incisions in skin ready for drinking from, had unsheathed with a trill. Those brand new fangs, having quickly replaced his regular canines, were fully exposed. Rhyland was the picture of horror; A dictionary definition of a fledgling. 

[b]SWOOSH[/b]

The surprise arrow struck right where a heart once beat with a harrowing [b]crunch[/b]
A shrill, chilling scream shot out of Rhyland’s already open mouth. The scream, unlike anything human, hit a note unachievable for human vocal cords. It pierced the stone walls of the crypt and had such power, it might have cracked some of the bricks around him. Suddenly his cold, rigid body felt as if a fierce fire had ignited beneath his feet. The lick of the flames enveloped his entire form, curdling those ice cold veins and forcing his knees to almost buckle from the immense pain.

Suddenly, as Rhyland’s breathing corpse erupted into burning hot agony, a flash of a memory bore across his minds eye. 

[i]“A woman…”[/i]

He recognised her. A fearful acknowledgment of a familiar foe. It was this pain, this feeling that riddled him from that goddamn arrow in his chest, that caused a buried memory to resurface.

Sinking to his knees, hands clasping where the arrow pierced his chest, Rhyland blinked away the black cloud that shrouded his mind. Again, the memory buoyed to the surface and this time he saw her clearer. Like the scene of a movie, Rhyland watched the memory of his human self unwittingly living out the last of his human moments…

[i]Work wrapped up late. Again. Fucking management had no clue. Why did only HIS desk have to stay after-hours because his pig-for-a-boss couldn’t prioritise tasks? Rhyland dragged deeply on his cigarette and felt his face pinch in scorn just thinking about how much more his manager was taking home in wages.

“Honestly, I could punch his fat face in” he growled to himself, as he stormed home. The last bus was long gone. So he was forced to take the long walk home. It was a cold night, too. And guess what? He’d forgotten his good jacket.

All of a sudden, Rhyland turned his head to look over his shoulder. He got the sense someone’s eyes were on him. You know that suspicious feeling you get in your chest when you’re not alone? There it was again, survival instincts coaxing him into an alerted state. Another cool breeze crept around his shivering body, cocooning him in that wintery air. Rhyland cradled himself, shivering dramatically. 

Then, in a flash of long, dark, glossy hair and fine china skin, he was snatched off of his feet and dragged like a rag doll into an adjacent alleyway. He didn’t even have time to cry out in protest because she was upon him like a ravenous cougar.

“What the fuck are you doing you -“ Rhyland managed to choke out as his gaze briefly fixated on his assailant. Pupils. Fully dilated. Black bottomless pits planted in a hauntingly stunning face. Cheekbones. Bloodred lips pulled into a menacing smirk. Determined movements of her monstrously strong arms manoeuvred him up against the wall. One arm pressed firmly across his chest, pushing him into the cold, wet bricks behind him. The other? Raised above her beautiful head, her hand elegantly poised to reveal one singular, long talon.

“You bitch” Rhyland hissed, fear and fury spurring him on. “You fucking bitch. You wait. You wait until I get my hands on you-”

Then, something changed. His attacker’s previously chillingly calm face flickered with disdain. He realised, sickeningly, he’d said the wrong thing. Her smirk disappeared, replaced with a snarl. And the last thing he saw was 2 bright white fangs protruding from her parted, plump lips before she leant in and planted them firmly in his jugular. [/i] 

The memory faded to black. Rhyland was still screaming. But now he could face his brand new assailants. The ones that had popped an arrow in his chest cavity.
He lifted his heavy, pained gaze to face them. Bound by burning agony, there was no fight in him. The least he could do was watch his killers as the certainty of death greeted him like a long lost lover.