The day my life changed was a day like any other. I was walking home; I lived in a very small town you see. We only had three telephones, one in the gas station, one in the old motel, and one in a booth on the corner of the intersection that spilt the down in the center, missing its glass. We only had four buildings too, the motel, gas station, the grocery store, and a car repair/hardware store. If something was broken, old Billy could fix it, or replace it. I did jobs all around town, simple things like cleaning or getting supplies from the other buildings, sometimes I was sent to get, or make, their lunches too. You would have been amazed at how many people would end up with a busted axel rolling into town and by how often I played local guide. I was 16 then, cursed with soft looks that didn’t fit a farmer’s son, shockingly bright red hair and big blue eyes that would have been better used on a woman, and I only stood at 5” 3, thin as a rail and quick as a switch. I never did strike any kind of masculine figure anyway, and heaven help you if you ever told my momma that she should cut my waist length hair, she completely adored it seeing as my three sisters all had a rusty and dull color, like copper where mine was candy apple. Like I was saying in the beginning, I was walking home late that night. Billy needed some extra help and I couldn’t really say no he was the only one to even think of giving me a job that paid over 3 dollars an hour. I had gotten some milk for my momma as well, she didn't need to know it came outta my paycheck that I was supposed to be devoting only to collage. The wind was blowing and snatching at my long coat with its chilled fingers; momma had bought it for me out of an old fashion magazine. I still have it actually, that ratty thing is in a trunk someplace full of holes and stains from places you wouldn't believe or understand. It was the middle of November, and the sky was a deep black only lit up by sketches of the full moon’s light through the clouds, the wind whistled over the plains and my ears and nose were turning red from the chill. My family and I lived a good ways away from town, just like everyone else really. I had walked that way every day, about an hour each way, but that night the chill was slowing me down if only by a bit. I had nothing to prevent it from running through me aside from the coat, and it was meant to be pretty not functional, not that I'd tell momma. Having grown up walking that path I was naively comfortable in the night, and with the thought that the only threat there was wolves or some such, so I wasn’t worried. That was my mistake. The halfway mark from my home and the town was a strip of trees that followed a shallow but wide creek bed. The only real way over that didn’t involve getting wet was an old, faded red covered bridge. I sketched it a few times… those pieces of paper have yellowed and crumbled with time now, but I can still see them, and it, oh so clearly in my mind… I had just passed under the first tree when I heard a noise behind me. Thinking it was nothing, a simple dear or a thrush, I kept walking, my mind caught up in memorizing my chores for tomorrow. Then I heard it again, louder, heavier, closer. Being a farmer’s child in the middle of nowhere my hand found its way to the pocket knife I kept with me just in case, it was a pitiful little thing only about 3 inches long and 2 inch wide but it was all I had. I can still remember the feel of the cold handle in my palm and the 'snick' it made when I flicked it open, holding it parallel with my thigh like my father told me. I began to walk faster hoping to reach the bridge that had come into view; normally I would have stared at it to remember for a drawing, but apprehension quickened my steps, fear giving me the irrational thought that I could seek solace from such a simple structure with its faded and peeling paint and rotting boards that somehow hadn't broken apart yet. Another noise, this one even closer, and I was almost jogging. I swore I felt something brush my hair and like a startled dear, I took off. I knew whatever it was could beat me in strength, but I hadn’t met anything or anyone who could keep up with me in speed, yet. I remember thinking though, at that moment, that I was too slow. That the bridge was too far away and the milk was too heavy, just as I reached the covered bridge. For some reason, against my previous thought, the moment I stepped onto the bridge I froze stiff. The inside of the bridge was black as pitch and the wind snatching at my coat, to my fear ridden mind, seemed to be pulling me inside with its howling cry. I could see the flitting moonlight at the other end but the scare outside had rattled me. The hidden corners and creaking wood made me shiver, the shadows appearing to move to my eyes. Contrary to my previous sprint I began creeping across the bridge at a snail’s pace, wincing at every creek and groan of the wood or wail of the wind. I despised my hair then, for it kept blowing into my face and obscuring my view of the moonlight I had become fixated on. It was all I focused on, that flickering light at the end of the tunnel, ironic yes, but I didn't think so then. As I crept farther on without incident I started calling myself a fool. There wasn’t anything outside, I told myself, I was scaring myself, just an over active mind and the moon playing tricks. By the time I reached the other side I had convinced myself I had imagined the scare, and had pulled my hair back by tying it into a knot, momma would yell me for that I was sure, she hated when I tangled it on purpose, even if I did to stop it from getting covered in grease while under one of Billy's cars. I was thinking about how great a story this would be to frighten my sisters with, what youngest sibling wouldn't, when I saw something move and I froze again. I tried to tell myself that it was obviously nothing, but something primal in me remained frozen, refusing to release my muscles so that I could flee. I tried to swallow past the growing lump in my throat when I heard the sound again from behind, much louder to the point I could actually tell what it was. Footsteps. Crunching leaves and dirt as they slowly got closer and closer. Impossible, I told myself, I heard nothing behind me on the bridge! So wrong was I… As if responding to my thoughts I heard a laugh. It was deep and charming, but it sent tremors down my spine. “Are you afraid?” The voice matched the laugh and I just about dropped the milk, though I don’t know how I had held on to it for so long anyway, the three finders on my left hand had gone numb from its chill by then. I noticed in some part of my mind that the voice had an aristocratic touch to it, though I never recalled ever meeting an aristocrat of any kind before and we didn't own a television. I didn’t respond, more like I couldn’t. I heard the footsteps finally stop behind me and I completely forgot about the knife in my hand, my knuckles white from gripping it so hard. Against a few scrawny wolves I had a chance, but my willowy carcass didn’t stand a chance against a decent sized male, and I knew it. I felt my hair move suddenly before it was released from my knot “such a shame to restrain such vibrant locks.” What was he doing there I wondered at the time. He was obviously not from around there and he sounded too formal to have gotten lost, and why oh why was he, by god, was he playing with my hair! “You know, when I spied you coming down the way I thought you a woman at first, but instead I find a gorgeous young man, very interesting…” There was a purr in his voice but I couldn't find it in me to be insulted, though usually the man would have gotten a knee to the gut or a bloody nose like all the others who referred to me as a girl, adolescent pride and all that. I felt him move behind me again and suddenly I was staring at the lapels of a very nice black suit, much nicer than any I had seen in person before. I don’t know why but the embroidery on them entranced me for a moment before I felt a gloved hand under my chin tilting my head back and up, I remember thinking 'who in their right mind wore silk gloves around here?' Again I cursed my size, why did I have to be built like my mother!? All these thoughts disappeared as I met a pair of beautiful amber eyes. I dropped the milk, not caring about the sound of it popping open or the feel of it splashing on my pants and over my shoe. I could only stare into those eyes, “beautiful as a woman… yet as rambunctious as a male… you are a site to behold.” The man said, I remember a lock of his hair falling over one of them and my instant hate for it getting in my way. Then, and it still makes me want to scream ‘STUPID!’ I did something that surprised and scared me to death… I spoke. “Well, you’re not the most normal looking either.” As I had realized what I said in my drawl that was my accent, I nearly slapped myself, but didn’t have the chance as the man did something that shocked me even more. He started laughing. My complete disbelief must have shown on my face because the man laughed ever harder. He did stop though… Eventually… After he was finished he simply smiled and in that smile I saw them. Two large, sharp, canine teeth, “Y-y-you!?” I stuttered and it just made the man, no monster I told myself, smile all the more, and he smiled as if to say I was right. I felt myself begin to shake, mind screaming to get out of there, but I feared I would collapse if I even moved. The man, no, creature in front of me seemed to revel in my fear “you are spirited…” “I-it h-h-happens wh-when you’re th-the smallest k-k-kid in t-town.” I stuttered out, I still don’t know why I was talking to that thing at the time. The monster just smiled at me again. Though I don't think of him as a monster now... “I like you, so I’ll make a deal with you, child. Unlike most of my prey, you are entertaining; else you would be dead right now. That and you are quite alluring.” I tried to swallow again “wha-what k-kind of deal?” “Join me, become what I am-“ “never!” The thought of becoming a monster was what caused me to snap I knew. “You didn’t let me finish.” he said with a look like a teacher scolding a student. I couldn't help it; I fidgeted, feeling much like an abolished child, of all things “s-sorry…” The creature nodded “join me, or your charming little family goes instead.” I knew the horror at his words showed plainly on my face because he smiled again. I had no choice you see, so I agreed. I don’t remember the process aside from searing pain and maddening pleasure. I awoke in a carriage in confusion and he was there, relaxed and smiling at me with that smile and I so wanted to rip it off his face. Eternity is a long time though... Years went by, my fear and hatred for him changed into a twisted sort of love and dependency, but neither of us minded. We traveled the world, experienced the passing of time as outcasts and reveled in the night of the world. I became, in his words, a scholar who would have put Michelangelo and Leonardo De Vinci to shame, but it didn’t help us. We were caught eventually, on a chilly night in November, oh cruel irony, hunters had tracked us down. He saved me that night, traded his life for mine, sacrificing it all for a simple, odd farm boy… He never told me why he didn’t simply kill me that night, but I have a feeling he was as lonely as I was back then. It’s been a month now, and I write this as I sit in one of the hunter’s pits, thrown here after attacking their home base and taking over half before falling. I can hear the birds starting to wake and I can see the sky lighting up, just like he and I would watch at times. As I watch the light creep closer I remember wakening on that carriage and our simple conversation then… “What’s your name?” he asked “Gabriel…” “A pleasure then Gabriel, I am Marcus, and I am going to take you on the most grand adventure you have ever imagined.” And he did…
