A/N: This is a short little story that I hope to continue if time permits. (AND I SHALL MAKE IT SO!) I also claim no rights to this song whatsoever, it is titled 'The Beautiful People' by Marilyn Manson. Please review and I hope you enjoy!

---

The girl of the night sat placidly outside of the mansion's window on a willow tree. Her hair, a mix of aurburn and black, danced down past her curvy hips as the breeze gently carressed her long purple robe. Her stance shifted stone atop the shaft she bore glowed a soft black in the gentle moonlight lighting up the depths of her sparkling blue orbs that surveyed all entrances into the grand house that mimicked a palace. The right side of her pink lips curled up with pleasure as her gaze beheld a certain window.

Springing from the tree and landing silently on the plush grass, she steathily made her way past the dining room windows. Glancing in all directions, this vision of a goddess began to climb up the stone wall, with no vivible means of support, all the while holding her long oak staff between her teeth.

Reaching the window, she sighed, more out of habit than necessity. Peeping into the window, she squinted to see past her pale reflection.

A boy, wearing only sweat pants, was sitting at his computer blasting rock music.

Wincing at the loudness, she listened intently to the music throbbing within her sullen heart.

There's no time to discriminate,
Hate every motherfucker
That's in your way

Hey you, what do you see?
Something beautiful, something free?
Hey you, are you trying to be mean?
If you live with apes man, it's hard to be clean

She smiled at the words, obviously pleased. Returning her glance to the boy at the chair, she scrutinized him carefully.

Died black hair came down slightly past his chin, as silver eyes rested under naturally thin eyebrows. His long nose and defined jaw made him attractive. She raised an eyebrow at her new charge.

The boy, feeling some presence about him, snapped his head to the window. His eyes grew wide as his mouth dropped open, showing the tips of his pearly white teeth. She smirked as she noticed the canines were slightly longer than normal.

A natural.

Beckoning the startled boy to come closer, she vanished into the night as quickly as she had come before he could see her clearly.

The boy hastily opened the window, only to be greeted by a large black feather atop a letter. It bore a name, his name, in Gothic script.

Lera, he heard the wind whisper.

Clutching the letter tightly to his chest, the boy stared at the moon as the wind continued whipping violently through his window.