It happened all too quickly. The woman found herself wandering down the long, dimly lit corridor before she had time to realise where she was. She had walked all the way to the mysterious house in a daze. It had only been a few hours since she had found out the truth about her past and now she was determined to learn more about everything that had been hidden from her all her life.

None of this bizarre business made sense to her, it made sense to no one. The truth was unbelievable yet somehow she had taken it as gospel the second it had escaped from her dieing mothers mouth. The last words of the woman she thought she knew, contradicted everything she had ever been taught. All she could remember from that final conversation with her was a lot of screaming and angry tears.

Yet through all those angry words that were spoken, she knew her mother only kept the secret from her to protect her from the evil of it. She had always felt like her family was holding a secret of the darkest kind. A secret so dark, that if revealed, would re write the history books forever. Mythology and the real world were now fused so tightly together, that it was near impossible for her to segregate the two.

She stopped at the end of the large hallway, and found herself standing underneath a door that captured perfectly the power of what lay within the room, which it guarded faithfully. The whole house seemed to be screaming out to her. Sometimes screaming warnings, and sometimes daring her to venture further into what already had an element of hell to it.

The house, she felt, had a feeling of uneasiness about it, like it too had secrets, which would lay forever hidden beneath the chambers of the house, yet always threatening to take control. The antique house felt like it had no soul, like Satan had been and gone, and had taken everything of value with him. All the time she found herself battling with her conscience, confused between right and wrong.

Every fibre in her body told her she should run; get away before it was too late. But her curiosity was becoming stronger all the time, it was learning to overcome her conscience and cloud her judgement. After all, she had come this far, she might as well take that last chance, and she knew she would kick herself later if she didn't. Her head was pounding and her heart skipped a beat or two as she reached for the old brass doorknob and slowly turned it, the creaking sound unnerving her.

A shaft of light hit her directly between the eyes as she stumbled into the room. From somewhere inside, she heard the curtains being drawn swiftly, as if the person inside had not heard her coming, and then panicked when the door opened. She shakily stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Suddenly she felt trapped, as her eyes tried desperately to adjust to the darkness of the dreary room.

The only light in there came from a small candle resting on top of an old, expensive looking mahogany table. She frantically looked around, trying to find the person who had closed the curtains but she was alone. The silence in the room was deafening. All she could hear was the sound of her own heart, beating loud and fast, and her breathing, which was so slow and broken, it almost contradicted the fact that her heart was still there. There was a low ruffle from somewhere in the far corner of the room and she jumped around, half expecting to see her host, but there was nobody there.

She turned back around to face the large, arched window that seemed to dominate the room and gasped as she found herself standing under the shadow of a creature so unreal, it could only have been described as indescribable. His illuminating blonde hair shone brighter than the sun as it gently swooped across his forehead, just short enough to reveal a pair of eyes that momentarily hypnotised her. They were a magnificent shade of gold, yet for a split second, she could have sworn she had seen a flash of black appear, and then disappear just as speedily.

She stood there for a while, stunned at the amazing symmetry of his features, the baby like smoothness of his skin, the high cheekbones, the blood red lips which were now pursed, but always coming back to the eyes. There was something about them, she couldn't pin point what exactly it was, but they were no ordinary eyes. She had heard that the eyes were the door to the soul but she saw no soul behind them. They looked empty, dead perhaps. And she knew why. So this was what real vampires looked like.