Chapter 1 - Undead

Memories of my birth are unnaturally clear, as if they were lived just yesterday. My ears pounded with the sound of a raging storm mixed with that of my mother's murderous screams. When I was born, the nurse took me in her arms. She smiled at me at first then frowned. "Doctor, is this natural?" An elderly man came over and looked at my silently still form. He listened for a heartbeat, but of course there was none. He looked at me in confusion, seeing my dark eyes looking back at him, fooling him of life. The doctor shook his head. "Must be the storm," he said, as rain hit the roof like bullets. "It's throwing me off." The nurse nodded, looking at me again. "But it's still peculiar that she didn't cry." Then her bright smile returned. "She's a beautiful baby girl though." She looked at my mother, her black hair sticking damp to her face. "Do you want to hold her?" "You can throw it in the river, all I care. Just keep it away from me," she snapped coldly. The nurse was stunned. She turned away awkwardly and put me into a small basket. My father smiled fondly at my mother. "Violet, dear, she may come of use to us some day." "She's no use to us now, as a pathetic runt." The nurse rearranged the blankets covering me, trying to block out the heartless banter. She was a soft soul in a cold world. That only brings a swift death. My father moved toward the nurse and myself. He looked down at me, a bored expression upon his face. "Sophie will do for her," he said, almost with bitter amusement. "Yes, that's a beautiful name," the nurse stammered. My father grinned. "Are you ready to go, my dear?" My mother sat up, looking unnaturally refresh considering she had just given birth. She returned the smile. "Yes." In the blink of an eye, my father snapped the nurse's head back and bit down upon her neck, piercing the skin with sharp fangs. The doctor stepped back in horror, delaying himself a second. That was all it took. The woman who gave birth to me was across the room in a flash. A crack sounded as she snapped the doctor's neck. Though the memory is clear, I forget how I felt. Was I horrified and disgusted? Was I filled with an unbearable hunger? Or was I like a human infant, unaware of the carnage that took place? That would be impossible, for I was not a human infant. I was born dead. When my parents left the small shack, serving as the town's hospital, they left me helpless at the door of a random hut. Then they left without a word, shadows in the night. I was of no use to them. The couple living there took me in. They were poor and cold, constantly screaming at each other, but they raised me in a way. I assume that if I were like most children, crying all night, they would throw me out without a single thought. But I served mostly as an inanimate object, in need of food here and then. As an infant, I was near starvation many times, my guardians unaware of what I was. The occasional scraps of meat they served me, not the food of choice for most babies, kept me going for a while. My body aged at a sickeningly slow pace. Ten years passed and I appeared to be about five. That's when they caught me in my room, feeding on the blood of a rat that had strayed inside. I must have been a frightful sight, blood dripping down my chin. The woman screamed, calling for her husband. He, without pity, dragged my small form to a cramped closet, where he locked me in. I'm ashamed to say that I was frightened at first. That was a time when I still felt like a child, with a child's fears. But they left me there. Before I had been discovered, I was given little food to survive with. Now that number was cut in half. I was their rapid dog, which no one thought to shoot, to put it out of its misery. But they had the heart to beat me, especially the man. I hated them both. Whenever I saw him as he threw in scraps of food, an unbearable hunger would rise inside me when I saw him. As more years passed, I would growl at him as he passed the closet, hatred consuming my very soul. Then one night, I was driven mad by hunger. The door strained on its hinges as I lunged again and again at it, screaming obscenities no child should know. The man, yelling and cursing as well, stormed down to the closet. "I'll kill you, you brat!" he roared. As he opened the door, he raised his hand, ready to hit me. But I was too swift. Before he could take a single breath, I had pounced upon him, ripping out his throat. My first Mortal kill. I left the revolting place where I was raised. Traveling as what appeared to be a child of ten, I went from town to wood, seeking prey. I mostly fed on animals that fell into my view. Occasionally, I could get a feed from a drunken beggar, too old to scream. But that was rare. The blood of the animals kept me alive, but my energy was quickly draining without human life. One night, I saw, drifting from tree to tree like a shadow, no sign of prey anywhere. That's when my dark eyes fell upon a man. Hunger driving me; I leapt down without a moment's hesitation. The man, before seeming unaware of my presence, grabbed my neck in midair and threw me to the ground. My mind spun with confusion and the sudden force. Then my eyes cleared and I looked up at my adversary. With realization, my eyes filled with rage and my body tensed. I quickly got to my feet. "Now, Sophie, you can do better than that," the man said in amusement. "You," I growled. "I'd prefer it if you called me 'Dad'," he responded, a smile lingering on his lips. "Or Kyunar." I called him something that was neither. Kyunar put on a face of mock hurt. "Now, that's no way to greet me." "So, where's that wretch you call a wife?" I spat. "She was killed by vampire hunters." "I hope you don't mind if I skip the sorrow." My voice dripped with sarcasm and hatred. "I see it was a good idea to leave you at the hut. Made you stronger." "What did you expect? You gave me over to those fools!" Kyunar turned slightly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "Did you kill him?" "Yes," I snapped. "Good girl." "Shut up! I'll kill you!" He only grinned back at me. That's when he asked me to travel with him. Against my own will, I did, out of survival. We covered distance and time, feeding on the weak. Then Kyunar started collecting followers, the pathetic fools worshipping him like a god. He promised them a new age, a time where Mortals would be overrun by our kind. At first I thought he was just throwing out lies to influence the rats. He was treacherous, but I never believed him to be insane. That was until the ritual, nearly 13 years ago.