Quick Notes: I really don't have this story planned out, only vague ideas. Just had this random plot bunny running through my head and the only way to shoot the bastard down was to write. I was greatly inspired by a piece of unpublished comic panels drawn by Camilla d'Errico, I wish I could give you all a link to view it but sadly she's taken it down. This is just a test run to see if I want to keep going with this, so I would love any feedback, thoughts, and critiques you all can offer. Thank you!

-Scarlette

Enid closed her book and stared blankly at the ceiling, why was it that love stories always ended the same? She sighed longingly and looked at the pathetically large bins of books she had tucked in the corner of her room, main of them being romance. Hadn't she learned her lesson by now? Reading romance novel after romance novel, things were becoming a tiresome cliché. It didn't even matter if the couple the story revolved around were humans or not, they could have been aliens and maybe even jelly fish (and Enid had read a few stories like those) but the ending and plot was always the same.

Was there some kind of formula for romance novels that all writers had to follow? Was there some kind of contract romance authors had to sign with their blood that stated they wouldn't change format of how a love story should be written? Had someone, in some place and in some time, made a deal with the Devil?

"Satan! Grant me eternal youth and beauty!"

"Only if all romance stories from this day forth are told exactly the same that is the contract you shall abide." Satan declared.

Yeah, something like that had to happen, Enid convinced herself. She stood from the warm comforts of her bed and wandered into the kitchen for a glass of juice. Her eyes caught the sight of the clock and groaned. 3:30, she had a class she had to attend starting today. The new school semester began and in order for her to keep her insurance and a low payment on her rent Enid had to be a full time student- much to her protest. It wasn't only certain benefits and perks that forced Enid to keep going to school, but a certain somebody. If she had dropped a class, he would know, chew her out for it, and she wouldn't have a peaceful night for the rest of the week.

Downing the rest of her juice Enid called out, "Hey, Bryn! I'm going to take my shower, so no funny business mister!" Silence rung throughout the house, it seemed as if her roommate wasn't home but Enid knew better. Bryn was most likely dozing near the window; where Enid usually would find him and couldn't hear her yell out for him. "Not like he would try anything," she said as if she was disappointed. He had walked in on her once, entirely by accident. Bryn had a tendency to waltz into whatever room he pleased without checking it first. It was partly his fault, but Enid had some blame in it as well; if she was changing or in the shower she would lock the door to indicate he couldn't come in, or call out where she would be, otherwise he was welcome to come and go.

Enid went to the shower and turned on the water; it would take a minute for it to warm up. She stuck her head out the bathroom, "Bryn!" she called out again, louder than the first time. "Bryn! I'm in the shower okay?" She waited for a moment.

"Alright Enid, I heard you the first time." Came a groggy reply.

She smiled, of course he was napping.

Yawning, Enid took a seat at the back of the lecture room and observed the people who would be her classmates for the next hellish semester. She recognized one or two or them from pervious classes, and there were probably more she had other courses with, but Enid wasn't the type to take the time and remember names and faces of people she believed she would most likely never see again.

"Not exactly sociable are you?" Bryn took a seat next to her.

Enid grinned at the question. "Well, you know," She shrugged, "I'm not the easiest to get along with."

"If you weren't nearly as eccentric as you are, I'm sure you would have quite the pack of friends. Maybe even boyfriends." He teased.

"Shut it," Enid snapped. "It's not like I need people to make me happy." Friends, people, her social life, it was all actually quite the sensitive subject for Enid. At an early age she had difficulties fitting in with others, something that plagued her through her teens and young adulthood. "Besides, you can just tell by looking at them, they all aren't very interesting."

"And I am?" Bryn questioned.

She wanted to reach out to him for a moment, but instinctively knew better. Instead she placed her arms on the top of her desk and rested her chin in the palms of her hands. "You're the most interesting person I know." She looked at Bryn with a sideways glance, the familiar grin turning the corners of her lips.

There was a loud cough at the front of the room, the professor had entered and subtly demanded the attention of his students. He counted them openly, pointing to each head in the room and looked down at his roster. "It seems that this is everybody," the professor announced. "A rather small class this semester, but it makes the experience that much more personable. I am Professor Bedlin and this is Introduction to Mythology 101-" Enid had zoned out at this point, the professor droned on about his class, his qualifications, his syllabus, grading, midterms, finals, her selective hearing picked up at the words, -" Since we have such a small class, why don't we introduce ourselves?"

She groaned and drew the black hoodie she wore over her head. "Class introductions?" she scoffed. "What are we, high schoolers?" She hated self introductions, the only thing that made her look forward to college was the fact that she didn't have to introduce herself at the beginning of each term, all she had to do was sign in and be accounted for. Easy to enter, easy to leave, easier to avoid everyone else, that's how she liked it.

Enid listened to each student speak, really not giving a damn what they said, but rather counting down to her miserable turn to "introduce herself." She would be one of the last to speak, she found some comfort in that, and thought hopefully the others would talk long enough that the class would end without her having to say a word. "Oh God, if you're there, do me a favor and save me from public speaking!" She mumbled to herself.

Apparently God wasn't there.

Standing she stripped away the hood from her head, and smothered down her brown fly away hairs. She took a deep breath, "I'm Enid Bedivere, I enjoy romance novels and full moons," seemingly normal enough… "And I'm a ninja trained vampire hunter." She said plainly, her facial expression equally as enthused.

Enid sat back down. Her classmates looked at one another dumbstruck, an awkward silence choking the life out of the environment. Was she being serious?

"You are officially the weirdest person any of these people have met." Bryn told her.

She chuckled, her familiar impish grin warping into a beaming smile of satisfaction. "And I love it."

Enid had disturbed the group so much, including the professor that they had skipped over Bryn's introduction. "Ahem!" The professor coughed. "Well, with that all said, please exchange contact information amongst yourselves and find a study buddy for when you're absent."

Enid zoned out again, nobody would be asking for her contact information.

"Would you at least take your things to your room? Don't just throw them into the hallway," Bryn nagged.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Enid replied. She left her bag and shoes in the middle of the floor.

"So what do you think about our classes so far?" Bryn questioned her. He had seemed to float alongside her, his instigating gaze boring into her eyes.

She sighed, "I wasn't paying attention."

"Enid! You have to take your education seriously at some point!" He was lecturing her again, the least favorite attribute of the most interesting person Enid knew.

"I know Bryn; give it a rest would you?" She was becoming agitated with him with each passing second, with each syllable that came out of his mouth. These weren't the kind of words she wanted to hear from him. In the past couple of years Bryn had changed from being her closest friend to a nerve wracked mother hen. "I got the class outlines; the first week is always filled with bullshit anyway. I just got to go out and by the books. Breathe already." She said nothing more to him and escaped to refuge of her room. He heard the light click of her door being locked.

"I suppose she doesn't want to see me for the rest of night," Bryn mumbled to himself.

Enid sat on her bed, flipped on the radio, and pulled open her book she was reading earlier that day. Leafing through the pages she found where she left off and sighed. She closed the book and stared the ceiling, something she did frequently. "Why do I even keep reading this kind of stuff?" She tossed the book to the other side of the room. Enid had lied to the class when she said she enjoyed romance novels – she really did want to believe she was ninja trained vampire hunter though- truth be told she rather detested love stories. She didn't read them for enjoyment; rather she read them for reference.

The large pile of books in her room was Enid's lifelong reference collection on romance, love, and relationships. Everything she knew about love had come from the thousands of pages she read. Enid learned that when women ran away, they really wanted to be chased. When they said no, depending on their tone, they really meant yes. She studied and believed she mastered human romance, and eventually found more books on supernatural relationships. Vampires, demons, angels, werewolves, shape shifters, monsters, she read whatever she could get her hands on.

"Vampire romance novels usually consist of a rather elegant male character that fights off the urges of his lineage. Usually his love interest states that she isn't afraid of him, and they continue their relationship with his internal problems. She eventually either becomes a vampire herself or dead at the end of the story. Very rarely does the female character marry her vampire lover and stay human." Enid recited, she also mastered vampire romances.

"Demons and angels somehow find themselves on Earth, and against their lord's will- being Satan or God- falls in love with a human. Depending on the character being a demon or an angel their internal conflicts differ. Demons want to posses their lover, but know they shouldn't. Angels know that the feelings of lust and love are inappropriate for them, but fall victim to their emotion. The human lover, almost always, dies after a visit to the supernatural realm. On occasion though, there is a happy ending where the demon or angel is permitted to become flesh and blood once more." Enid sounded as if she was an encyclopedia on romantic encounters.

She tugged at her hair with frustration, it didn't matter how many love stories she read, how many novels she could devour, or how many type of genres she memorized. It didn't change the fact that she couldn't find a single book on how to seduce a ghost. In all her searching, in all her years of reading, she couldn't find one reference to tell her how a relationship with a haunting spirit worked. She couldn't cite an author, couldn't quote a passage, there was nothing for her to learn from, she had no guidance. "How do love someone that is already dead?" Enid moaned into her pillow.

Bryn sat on the bay window seat, or rather hovered above it. He watched the flow of people on the sidewalk below, studying each person with utmost care. He wondered about their daily activities, their hobbies, like and dislikes- Bryn found it as a source of comfort to weave a tale for each person he set eyes upon. Maybe the story he was giving them was better than the one they were living; he considered it his own gift to humanity. He watched a young girl, pig tails in her hair and a balloon in hand, trot down the street with her parents, her toothless grin catching in the dying sunlight. A pang of guilt shot through him as the little girl vanished over the horizon with her mother and father.

Was Enid like that before her parent's death? Did she once prance down the street holding her parents hand, and a joyful balloon bouncing at her side? Did she laugh about her missing front teeth at some point in her life, cry about it even? For as long as Bryn knew Enid she rarely smiled without a care in the world, even more rare did she laugh – or chuckle- openly. Had he robbed her of that? "Of course I did." Bryn cursed at himself, loathing his very being. He was despicable man, a poor excuse of conscience that robbed his precious Enid of a normal life.

"Why? Why did you do that to Mommy and Daddy?" A scared, battered and bruised five year old Enid danced in the walls of Bryn's memory, the question repeating itself like a sharpened knife being rammed into his heart. The scene replayed cruelly over and over in his mind, like some sick cinematic he couldn't turn off.

Her parents laid there dead, sprawled in unthinkable positions in the car seats, little Enid clutching at their sleeves and uncontrollably crying. How she survived Bryn didn't even know, but the child wailed calling out to her parents, each attempt growing loud and much more desperate. "Mommy! MOMMY!" Enid tugged at her mother's arm, "Daddy! DADDY! SAY SOMETHING." No one said anything; only the child's mournful cries could be heard.

Bryn stood there shock numbing his mind, consuming his thoughts. He didn't know what to feel, or how to feel. He watched the child cry and the fateful question came out of her mouth, finally realizing that someone else was with her, "Why? Why did you do that to Mommy and Daddy?"

He couldn't answer, his mouth wouldn't move and no noise came out. What did I do? He asked himself over and over again. Had revenge consumed him this much? He made an innocent child suffer for his own sake, for his own twisted agenda. For years, decades, generations he dreamt of making the Bedivere family hurt, to make them suffer as he had. Bryn looked at the child, her large brown eyes looking pleadingly at him, she wanted answers…he had none to give.

Bryn Levenworth was a bigger monster then he ever imagined. He was killer.

"Are they going to be alright?" Child Enid choked out between sobs. She was too young, too naïve, to understand the concept of death. It was most likely her parents hadn't even tried to explain the idea of being deceased to their child; she was still just a hatchling.

"No," Bryn said bluntly. "They are dead, just as I am.