A.N. Hihi Kimmy here... well obviously... who else would be typing an authers note on my work lol...

Anyway this may very well end up being a long story but I must stress to you dear reader, that this prologue is as gory as it gets, the next chapter is much lighter in comparison to this I promise to those of you who are squeemish, but there will be the odd gore-filled chapter here and there because... well do I really need a reason?

Anyway I'd really appreciate it if I could get some feedback on the prologue before I decide to put oup the first chappy, because this will probs be the only chappy where Petra isn't telling the story in first person narritive. well... with that well and truely said... please enjoy lol PLEASE!!

Prologue.

Petra kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. It's not blood it's not blood. She kept on thinking, trying desperately to put her mind somewhere else.

She heard screaming. It's just the TV… Becky's got one of her horror movies on again… She couldn't close her eyes, or raise her palms to cover her ears, she was drooling out of the side of her mouth, but she couldn't move to wipe it away.

The screaming dulled to painful moans. Just a movie. Then there was nothing, no sound just a heavy silence. Is the movie over? She suddenly heard heavy footsteps on the hard wood floor splashing in shallow puddles as they neared her. It's not real; it's not real.

She heard the rustle of someone kneeling next to her, "You're next beautiful." He whispered in her ear. No… not real, not real…

Her breath was coming out in shaky gasps her heart was hammering against her rib cage and she was shaking like a leaf. "Aren't you going to beg for your life?" taunted the voice, "Try to prolong the inevitable just a little." A wet finger traced across her chin and then her left cheek, leaving a line of liquid behind it. The touch seemed to bring her back to life, survival instinct kicked in. Petra whipped her head to the side and bit as hard as she could.

The rough skin broke under the pressure of her jaws. Petra heard him shout, a mixture of rage and agony. She tasted blood on him, most likely her sister's blood. It's not real. His blood started running into her mouth and down her chin.

Petra spat a clump of warm blood out of her mouth and started wriggling, she felt the rope around her wrists loosen and she sat up and tried to slide towards her living room door, taking extra care not to look at anything, It isn't real. It was then that she got a look at the attacker.

The man, in his mid twenties was nursing his ravaged finger. His mop of brown hair was matted with blood. He was crouched like an animal over his hand. His eyes were widely glaring down at his finger. He was shuddering and breathing heavily through his nostrils like a bull before it charged. Petra backed up into the door. She slid up it on shaky legs and fumbled for the knob behind her. She couldn't tear her eyes from the crazed animal before her.

As the door clicked open and Petra stumbled backwards his head snapped towards her, his eyes were glowing blue glaring angrily at her. She backed into the wall of the hallway behind her; he slowly started to get up. He snarled, there was nothing human in him now, not like when Becky had let him in. He's not real!

Petra turned towards the front door but in a blur of colour he was directly in front of her; bloodied, mangled hand reaching towards her. Petra backed up and shrieked; she sprinted in the opposite direction, through the open kitchen door. She slammed it behind her and bolted it across.

He started bashing against the door. Petra stumbled around the kitchen knocking appliances off the counters and smashing the glasses left to drain by the sink. The whirring of the washing machine on spin cycle drowned out the banging as she made her way to the back door. She knocked over the knife stand and sent the sharp stainless steel cooking implements sweeping across the tiled floor.

The door splintered inwards as he slammed a fist into it. Petra stumbled into the back door and tried to open it, the door was locked tight. She started slamming into it desperately leaving smears of blood against the double glazed glass and white PVC plastic. Something went flying into the washing machine. Petra spun around and felt another scream rip from her lungs.

The door had been thrown into the washing machine, breaking the washing machine door open and spreading soapy water all over the floor. He lurched towards her unnaturally steady on the soaked floor. Petra remembered that her utility room door had a lock on it and tried to run for it. Her left foot slipped on the soapy water and she fell, her ankle twisting and clicking as she fell. She hit the floor, hard, as she heard him stepping over to her heavily; she saw the glint of a knife. She reached forwards and grasped the handle, it was the smallest one on the stand but she still twisted on the ground and as he knelt over her she stabbed it forwards. It broke though into his throat she pushed it as far in as she could before her hands slipped off.

It didn't even slow him down. All it did was add a horrific wheeze to his snarls as he tugged her off the ground and slammed her into a wall. He slammed his open palm into her chest, miraculously not breaking through her body and straight into the wall as he did so. His head lunged towards her throat. It's not real! It's not real! Wake up! WAKE UP!

Suddenly a hand clutched his shoulder and yanked him backwards before his mouth reached her.

-

Garth tugged the vampire backwards and into the wall next to the back door he'd knocked off its hinges. "Get a little hungry did we?" he asked. The vampire snapped its jaws towards him mindlessly. Garth grasped the blade in his throat and tugged it across, bringing blood spray with it. He then stabbed the small knife through the vampire's chest and through his heart.

Garth tugged him from the wall and threw him to the ground with nothing more said he wiped his hands on a hanky he then replaced in his jean pocket.

He turned to the girl sitting on the ground, nursing a sprained ankle and crying. She was in a blue nightdress, which was smeared and splattered in crimson.

Her pale skin was also spattered in it. Her green eyes were filled with unshed tears. Her brown hair was a mess, also stained with crimson and half tied up. He'd put her at around fourteen years old.

He realised she was too traumatized so move so he left her there and moved to the rest of the house to check on things.

What he saw in the living room didn't surprise him but it wasn't something he liked seeing. Blood spatter was on every wall, the carpet had blood soaked into it and a woman's dismembered body parts were thrown around the room.

From what he could gather Garth concluded that there were two girls living in the house, a girl of around eighteen years old, the dead girl. And then there was the other one, the survivor. He pondered on what to do with her as he re-entered the kitchen and saw her still in the same place he'd left her. She was out of it, rocking shakily as she nursed her sprained ankle with her bloody hands.

He sighed and picked her up bridal style. "Shame you had to see this side of us." He muttered as he carried her out of her house.

A.N. Hihi me again... just stressing please review!! Because I know you all love me really lol ((Puppy dog eyes)) please... a review will get you an internet muffin...