Chapter One~

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A/N~if u don't like it, oh well, if u like it, that's great. This is going to b short, ranging from 4 to 7 chapters... also to forewarn you, this chapter is rather grotesque. This story is very angsty...

In my field of paper flowers, And candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours, And watch my purple sky fly over me...~Imaginary, Evanescence

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Eve screamed as the needle went up her arm, into her vein, injecting the potent sedative while the doctors and nurses held her down. They didn't understand, she needed to escape, things were coming after her, things they couldn't even begin to imagine. The visions constantly haunting her, because of these, they thought she suffered from delirium, schizophrenia, and many other things, but she didn't care; all she knew was that she was in an asylum, she felt caged, if they thought she was mad before, this place certainly wasn't helping, it was no asylum, it was a prison. The sedative was causing her premonition to become blurred as she began to float to unconsciousness, painfully aware of the blood and carcasses apparent in the bloody picture painted before her eyes... then everything became black.

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The blackness began to become a dim grey, then light. Eve subsequently remembered her vision and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the images still lingering and the blinding light. She knew she wasn't insane, she had a gift, from above, which she had found was a curse, she had received the terrible power from whatever powers were above. She didn't know who it was that ruled the heavens, God, Zeus, but she had always had an infinite feeling that all the gods ever heard of or not heard of, were up there, somehow. With that thought, she opened her eyes again, slightly calmer, but knowing that wouldn't stay. The silvery light loomed, just as blinding as before. As always, she was alone in this dream, soon the light dimming back almost to blackness, as the darkness came, Eve felt the fear begin to grip her. This was the time of the demons and vampires, things that many people did not believe were real—or denied that they were real—but she knew they were out to get her.

She had seen one of them kill her mother, in fact a very powerful vampire. The vampires were her main enemy, they saw her power more than any other demon. Spiders began to crawl up her arms, but her dread numbed the pain of the bites, blood flowed from her lips; the taste resonated as her dark blue eyes widened in terror. The darkness distorted to an alleyway, a distant cathedral bells chiming midnight, shadows contorting in cruel shapes. Fiery red and yellow eyes glowing, hungering for flesh and blood. Eve sensed her powers calling to them, and they shrieked back, piercing the night's dead innocence, forcing it to a deeper malice. Human-like and inhuman figures and silhouettes sporadically became revealed by blinking streetlights, immediately to be cloaked by darkness once again.

She heard a noise behind her, turning swiftly, to be faced by a pallid figure dressed in black, vengeful ruby eyes glowing in his visage—a vampire. Roughly he grabbed her shoulders, then bringing a hand to her head, snapping it sharply to one side, revealing her neck. Rapidly, he ripped his fangs into her throat, drinking in the blood from her limp body...

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            Eve awoke, almost to scream out, but she bit it back, not wanting to face the damned sedative, mixed particularly strong for her. She didn't want to go back to that place, or any of the other places her horrid dreams had made for her. I always die. Eve was ever jealous of the others in the institution who could build their own worlds inside themselves, whenever she began her rapturous place within it was interrupted by a vision and shattered, the visions screaming of death, pain, blood and demons. She was in this place because of the damn visions, they made her convulse in fits of hallucinations—or so they thought—accompanied by ranting and screaming and self-inflicted acts of violence. She often had a major withdrawal from her surroundings after precognition because of its extremity.

            She had had the visions since she was thirteen, beginning after her mother died, which was on Eve's birthday, it was February 13, 1991, Eve had memorized the date. She remembered she had been submitted to the institution a few weeks after her first vision.

She also remembered waking the morning of her birthday to hear screams down the hall. She had rushed down to her mother's room, instantly being greeted by the stench and sight of blood drowning the room. She remembered staring at the red-washed floor—but more screams caught her attention—and there that thing was, James, the vampire hovering above her mother, shredding and tearing at her body, while she mewled and cried out in agony, infinitely mangled. Eve had become deadened at the sight, numb and frozen, unable to move, while she watched her mother's torture.

She recollected her mother spotting her, then mouthing for her to leave. But Eve was rooted to her spot in sheer terror. One final rip... and her mother was dead, black eyes staring at the ceiling, dark brown hair splayed out dripping with blood and caked in blood, and things that Eve didn't even wish to think of. Her mother's body had been ripped in ways almost unimaginable to the human mind and in a fashion that one wouldn't even want to think of. But the thing that was forever plastered in Eve's mind was the look of pure and absolute pain and fright upon her mother's face, even still echoing in her eyes after she was long dead. At that moment of her mother's bereavement, the gift of the Sight was given to Eve—as was the attention of James. Red eyes glinting as they fell upon her, an ugly grin gracing his fair but malevolent face, blood smeared across his lips, splattered upon his clothes, drenching his hands, beginning to dry into gore, as bits of flesh clung to them.

Eve had screamed at him, he was a monster, his red eyes not needing to reveal his identity. James had lunged at her, biting into her neck, and she felt her veins shudder, feeling like they had been frost-bitten—icy and torrid at the same time. That moment was what had made her become addicted to pain, but before James could finish her off, what she desperately wanted, he had ripped his teeth from her neck, and whispered in her ear, squeezing her shoulders hard, "This isn't the end." Then throwing her to the floor, departing.

From the blood loss, she had become unconscious. She never knew how he left the house, the sun had been shining. If he had went outside, he would have turned to dust. She knew he hadn't died. He had forever escaped official death. He was 401 years old and clever. It was later when she awoke, was when she received her first vision, it had been a young woman with dark brown curly hair, in some sort of hospital, screaming as a doctor gave her a shot, afterwards she had went limp. That vision was today. The visions were so disturbing, as was her mother's death, that it had  made her a lose some of her sense. She had to admit that. She also knew that her visions were more potent than the ones her grandmothers and mother before her had received, they had grown more powerful with time—and there were more demon worshippers and cults more leaning toward the dark side. While considering this, she suddenly felt a pain in her neck, and it was not a tense muscle or cramp... that meant one thing. Eve was fearful because she couldn't do anything, they had put her in restraints. She was basically immobile, accept for her head and neck.

She shifted as much as possible to get a view of the door—it was open, as she had predicted it would be, the doctors would have closed it. She noticed there was something in the hallway. She leaned forward as much as possible and strained her eyes to see what it was—what she saw made her freeze. It was the body of another patient strewn across the floor, neck broken at a sickly angle, throat ripped into a gaping hole. There was no blood, he was dry, save congealed blood around the mouth of the wound. The wall behind the body had blood running down in streams from above. Eve strained her eyes more to see words written high upon the wall in blood, her eyes widened as she read it: We're coming to get you.

She knew it was directed toward herself, and she knew who it was from—James.

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            Eve couldn't keep her eyes off the words, unaware that she trembled violently. This was one of her visions, she had received it almost a year ago. It was one of the few times her visions happened to around her. She was too afraid to scream, too afraid to shed tears, and too afraid to sleep. She never wanted to sleep. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the sheets of her bed, long fingernails tearing them, her knuckles turned white. Her dark, curly hair was slightly damp from the cold sweat running down her face, her locks hanging down to her shoulders haphazardly as always. She stayed that way for hours, flinching at the slightest sound, the neighboring rooms' occupants sleeping—snoring, tossing & turning, talking in their sleep—her lips were bleeding from constantly gnawing them in nervousness.

            She knew that one of them was watching her.

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            Elizabeth, an underling and blood child of James, hid in the shadows of the ward, affirming that he and his plans had been made conscious of. She utilized the darkness to cloak herself from Eve's terrified eyes, crouching near the bloodless corpse, recognizing Eve's awareness of her spying. Elizabeth would avow to James that Eve had had a taste of what was to come. Elizabeth hissed silently, her work done, then slinked back to the adjacent room, climbed up the wall, and crawled out the window into the cold night air, shutting it tight without a sound. James would be pleased.

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Eve finally perceived that the presence observing her was gone, and laid back down upon her pillow. She felt the pool of blood around her head—James had also fed on her. He had always had a taste for her blood since their first meeting 13 years ago. In the morning Dr. Roberts or the nurses would make a fuss over her. It would be hell. Who would be blamed for the murder?

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