• Love; it’s like an all-consuming fire, or so she’d heard. She stood in the darkness, mostly alone. No one ever cared where she was. As far as humans knew, she didn’t exist. As far as every human hoped, she was myth. Yet, here she was in the flesh. She wiped the blood from her mouth. She was every person’s nightmare. No one would ever love her. If she ever truly loved anyone, she wouldn’t want them to love her. She would want them to run from her as fast as their legs could carry them. Her breath was coming heavy, and she held onto the lead bar bolted to the wall behind her, her nails digging into the bar as if it were jelly. She shuddered, trying to keep herself from completely killing the boy. Her fangs dripped scarlet onto the damp gravel beneath her. She shouldn’t have lured him here, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been thirsty. She’d been thirsty for this boy’s life, for his blood, for his soul. She shouldn’t have drug him to the deserted subway tunnels. The dark tunnels only held rats. There would be nothing to stop her from draining the life from him. “Just give in Destroya. There’s no use in denying what you are,” said a strong, alluring voice. “No,” Destroya said, digging her fingers farther into the bar. Her voice sounded strained, weak, and so close to giving in. She was near tears. Her brown hair –which looked black in dim light- framed her fair face. Her eyes, which were the color of blood that hasn’t yet touched air, that deep, rich, delicious indigo, looked over to Analia’s blood red eyes. Analia had obviously, recently drank, taking in the blood and life of some poor victim. “Why don’t you ever give in? You would be the strongest of us you know. You have to be unnaturally strong to be able to resist for so long. Its really a pity you let yourself get so weak, so close to death,” Analia said. “I don’t need their essence to live I- I can live on my own,” Destroya said. Her voice sounded only seconds from breaking though. “You have to have a soul to have life essence Destroya. Everyone knows vampyres don’t have a soul of their own. That’s why they steal others,” Analia said. Destroya released the lead bar, falling to her knees. “I’m not like the rest of you,” she choked out. “No. You’re stronger,” Analia said. Destroya was stronger than them, and she knew it. Everything about her was. She was stronger, faster, and smarter than the rest of the vampyres. Even her senses were stronger. “You just let yourself get so weak that even the most wussy vampyres can take a bite out of you if they please,” Analia said. Destroya shuddered again. The boy was only feet from her now. He was still knocked out. It would be so easy. Destroya looked away from him. She closed her eyes which had taken on a wild look of hunger. “You were marked from birth. Just like the rest of us. You were born a vampyre Destroya. Its time you embrace what you are,” Analia cooed. Destroya glanced down at her wrist. The mark –which was dark blue like her eyes- curled around her right wrist and onto the back of her hand halfway. It was like a graceful, but thorny vine. It curled halfway up to her elbow. Then, she glanced up at Analia’s right wrist. She too had the mark, but hers was scarlet just like her eyes –just like Destroya’s eyes and mark would be if she drank. Destroya moaned once with longing, knowing she couldn’t resist the thirst much longer. She glanced at the boy again, her gaze catching on a vein in his neck. She could see his pulse throbbing there. Her mind went blank, and her mouth watered. Her vision went slightly hazy. She’d drunk a little of the boy’s blood already. How could more hurt? She ran her tongue over her fangs tasting a droplet of blood that remained there. Then, she inhaled. She could smell the cut on his wrist where she’d drank some before stopping herself. Then, she found herself next to the boy, moving too fast for anyone to stop her. She sat the boy up so she could access his neck. Then, she dug her fangs in, drinking thirstily. Vampyres, had hollow fangs which carried the blood through vessels into her heart. Then, her heart spread the life through her body. She drained the boy completely, and then stepped away eyes –and mark- blazing the scarlet of fresh blood. She swallowed once. Would she ever be able to hold her control? Then, she looked up at Analia baring her fangs, and snarling, “Look what you made me do!” A few things about vampyres, they have anger issues and they’ll hold grudges for thousands of years. Plus, they’re big on revenge –well all of them except Destroya. She refused to get revenge. It was one of the things she tried so hard to control. She jumped up, and Analia stumbled backwards. “Destroya I- I didn’t do it! You were thirsty and- and you lost control,” she stuttered, scared now that Destroya was at full health –and therefore full power. Destroya snorted once. “Just stay away from me. Isn’t there anyone else you can screw with?” she growled before turning and stalking off. The sun was rising she could feel it. She smiled joyfully. Vampyres lost their inhuman strength and speed in the daylight. Plus, their inhuman senses. Their thirst even subsided some. In the day vampyres were basically humans with feral and dark nature and cannibalistic traits. It seems strange, but for Destroya it’s as close to human as it gets. She could actually use short bursts of power in the day –when she was strong. Analia stayed behind, not daring to go out in the daytime. It was probably what Destroya should be doing too. She was weaker in the sunlight, and she would be easily hunted down by the Hunters. They were human, but not human. They didn’t drink blood, and they weren’t vampyres. They were born differently like vampyres, and marked from birth like vampyres. Their marks were different though. They had powers –no vampyre knew what or how much since none ever got close to one and lived. They were faster and stronger than humans. Plus, it was known that they rarely hunted alone. They always stayed in groups. They’re the only ones who knew of the vampyres existence other than the vampyres themselves.
    Of course, even with their unknown powers the mysterious Hunters had a hard job. Vampyres not only had inhuman strength, speed, senses, and smarts. They also had magical attraction –which didn’t seem to work on the Hunters- used to lure their prey. Plus, a few of the stronger vampyres –like Destroya- had powers of their own. Destroya could control fire. This was another sign of her superior power. None of the other vampyres could control an element. Anyway, the Hunters also have a hard time because vampyres are extremely hard to kill. There are only two ways you can kill them fire –which makes it so Destroya can only be killed one way- and the less common of the two starving them –this took months so the hunters preferred to use fire. Vampyres depended on the soul and blood they drank from their victims since they had none of their own. They were born without it.
    Destroya brushed off her skinny jeans, glancing down at her knew converse. They were black with white skulls on them. The laces and racing stripe were red. Then, she straightened her scarlet t-shirt which said ‘Hardcore’ in black. Finally, she sighed. She could see the stairs leading to the world above –and the normalness of daytime- in the distance. She sprinted up to them, covering the distance within a few minutes –her speed had already faded back to a human pace. Then, she climbed the stairs two-by-two, eager to be more normal. Her eyes would even appear to be a brown-ish color in the daylight. “Destroya!” Analia called behind her. “What?” Destroya called back pausing. “Be careful!” Analia called. Destroya snorted. “You’re soulless! You don’t give a crap if I die!” she yelled. Then, without waiting for Analia’s answer, Destroya finished coming up the stairs. The entry way was boarded off, but there were two loose boards on the side. She pushed those up, crawled out into the basically empty back streets of New York, New York, and put the boards back in their places. She walked around. The Hunter’s marks were on the side of their neck, covering the main artery vampires drank from. Destroya had learned that from an elder vampyre whose friend had been killed by a Hunter. The vampyre had been hidden, and gotten closer to the Hunters than anyone else. She looked around. There were just a few hobos around here. She breathed a sigh of relief, and started walking towards Times Square. She lifted her arms towards the sky, stretching, and enjoying the warmth that the rising sun caused –chasing away some of the chill that consumed her constantly. The other vampyres loved what they were. She hated it. She looked at the sun, a small smile beginning to play on her lips. She didn’t even care that her mark was dangerously exposed. She just enjoyed the sun on her skin. She thought of how many humans there were compared to vampyres. The difference was huge. There were billions of humans on earth, and only a few thousand or so vampyres left –she knew there were one hundred in New York City. Vampyres –unlike common myth- couldn’t be made they had to be born. It was rare because two vampyres couldn’t have kids. Only one parent could be a vampyre. The other had to be human –or Destroya supposed it could be a Hunter too but that would never happen. Vampyres looked down on humans and saw them as food before anything else, so a vampyre child was rare, and with the Hunters killing vampyres there weren’t many. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to feed more often then. . . Destroya stopped abruptly when this thought entered her head. “No,” she told herself aloud, “I’m not going to feed willingly. Ever. It’s wrong to kill those poor, innocent, helpless people.” She nodded once as if agreeing with herself. Then, she started walking towards Time Square again. “Hey there pretty girl,” a drunk guy said walking up and putting his arm around Destroya, “You outa come to bed with me.” He pointed at himself then, sloshing the beer he held in his hand. Some of it landed on her cheek. She wiped it off. Then, she grabbed the beer, jerking it out of the guy’s hand, and tossing it behind them. It shattered on the concrete of the sidewalk. He gaped at her. “What was- that for?” he asked her drunkenly. “For pissing me off,” Destroya said simply. “That- wasn’t nice,” he said. “Well too bad. Oh, and no way in hell am I coming to bed with you,” she said. Then, she gave a flip of her long heart-length hair, and walked off the drunken man gaping after her.
    She ran her tongue over her fangs. She was magnificent at hiding them. She could situate her bottom lip in a toothy smile to make it look like her fangs were human length. I should have taken a bite out of him, she thought. Then, she shook her head. Drunk or not he deserved life. He deserved a soul. She paused, biting her lip eyes watering, and looked at the sky. “Why is it that I don’t deserve a soul?” she asked the sky softly. Then, she jogged away, to Times Square. When she got there she was breathing heavy. That was the only thing she hated about her little paradise of normalness, being winded. At night she could run at inhuman speeds without ever needing to take a single breath. She looked around Times Square. There were more people here. Her thirst tugged at her, but it wasn’t as strong, as all-consuming as it was at night. She walked briskly with the crowd, headed towards China Town. She hated having to go there. You see, she had a friend in China Town, a vampyrik friend. He led humans down into his shop, taking the “juicier” ones into a separate area, keeping them there for feeding. She wasn’t going for more blood though. She was going to see about him getting her more of that strong perfume she liked. It hid the smell of blood that lingered around her well, and the bottles were small enough that she could shove it in her jeans pocket.
    She knew that her friend, Kyller, wished she’d accept him as her mate. A vampyre’s mate was more like a hunting partner. Truthfully, that’s exactly what it was. Well, throw in taking care of each other and some sex. There’s a vampyre mate for you. To officially become mates you’d have to drink each other’s blood. Then, their name –written in the hieroglyphics of the ancient vampyres- would appear on your shoulder blade –left for girls and right for guys. Destroya didn’t want that. It’s not that she didn’t like Kyller, but that’s the problem, that’s as far as it went. She was glad he didn’t push her to accept too much. She didn’t hunt –or at least she tried her hardest not to- and she wasn’t ready for the sex part. She didn’t know if she’d ever be. After awhile she finally came up to Kyller’s shop.
    She walked in, and he smiled. “Hey Destroya,” he said warmly. She returned her smile not taking care to hide her fangs. “Sup Kyller?” she asked. “Wishing you’d agree to be my mate,” he sighed. “Well you can keep wishing,” she said. Then, she tossed him her empty bottle of perfume. “Ah,” he said, his smile returning, “You came for more of this.” Destroya nodded. “Definitely, I hate smelling like a blood bank,” she said. Kyller took a deep breath, “Oh, but you smell so good.” She gave him an annoyed look. “It must be strong if you can smell it during the day,” she said. Then, her fair-colored face paled. “Oh good lord. You’ve been over-indulging again haven’t you?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Kyller actually looked ashamed, something that was so rare for a vampyre –that is unless they over indulged like Kyller obviously had. “Sorry. I know you hate . . . being a vampyre. Well, the having-no-soul-and-having-to-drink-others-blood-and-soul thing, but you know I –as well as you- need it to live,” he said, almost sheepishly. “You don’t need to over-indulge,” Destroya said. “I’ll try not to do it again,” Kyller said. “That’s what you said the last time,” Destroya snapped, “Just give me the perfume so I can go.” Kyller sighed, and handed her the perfume. “Come anytime you please,” he said. “Thank you Kyller,” she said, and sprayed on some of the perfume before shoving it in her pocket and walking out the door. She sighed. What should she do now? In New York City there were a number of things she could do. Only a few of those things held any appeal to her. Finally, she decided on going for a walk in Central Park. She walked there, rested on a bench for awhile, and then walked around the park. By the time she was done with this huge walk it was around noon.
    She sighed. She had no idea what to do for so many hours. At night she was always occupied with fighting for control. Therefore, she had no idea how to preoccupy herself during the day. She didn’t want to eat because, to her, human food had no taste. Plus, she didn’t need it to live. It’s the same thing with sleep. She doesn’t need it, but she can. Finally, giving up on what to do, she headed back towards the abandoned subway station. There were only subways at certain times, and a few of the oldest tunnels were abandoned too. The subway station –in a locked room which she’d found the key to- was her home. In her room she had a mattress –old and dirty- a nightstand –which held all her clothes and toiletries- and a vase that held dead roses. The roses reminded her of herself –dead at heart and without scarlet blood of her own.
    She couldn’t love. At least she didn’t think so. She trudged along the dirty street. She didn’t want to go back to the subway, but she felt most comfortable there. She would kick Analia out of her territory so she could get some quiet. Maybe that would help her restless mood. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t help. She pulled the boards up, and slipped in, sliding the boards back into place. Then, she jogged down the stairs. She noticed the door to her small haven sat ajar. “Good lord! Analia get out of there!” she yelled. Analia did come out . . . held by the throat. “Oh no,” Destroya said, “What are you doing here?” The tall figure was shadowed, and with Destroya only-slightly-stronger-than-human-sight during the day she would have had to guess who it was had she not known him so well. He chuckled. “Your own father can’t come to see you, Dez?” he asked. Destroya snorted. “Not when they’re you,” she said. He dropped Analia, and strode over to Dez his red eyes glinting with anger. “You won’t talk to me like that little girl,” he snarled. Destroya stepped back. “In the vampyre world I’m an adult. Plus I’m stronger so back off,” she said in a cold voice. It was true that with vampyres you were considered an adult once you were seventeen because that’s about when you stopped growing –therefore, stopped aging. She could see her father twitch slightly in fury at the realization he was the one who’d have to listen to her.
    He turned and stalked off, clearly not wanting to stay around long enough to get shown up by his daughter. He was Destroya’s vamp parent; her mother had been the human –the now dead human. Dez turned to Analia. “Get out of here,” she said solidly. Analia nodded, and scrambled off. Destroya knew she’d be back in a few days though –when Dez was weaker. Destroya strode into her room, pulling the door shut. She collapsed on the bed, sighing yet again –this was a common action for her.