Prologue: June 2011

Every breath we take, we are nearing our very last. Maybe that's the fear that grips people, which they are consumed by. Humans are such fragile creatures. No claws, no fur, no animal instincts to keep them safe. All they really have is their smarts; and look where that has gotten them.

They do not seem to realize that the planet is dying. The deserts are growing, sea levels are rising and the glaciers are melting. How long, I wonder, will it be before they come to the realization that everything they have built and created, will be their very downfall? Human scientists make all of these different vaccines for sicknesses, but they don't realize that the diseases and sicknesses that they strive to make cures for are nature's way of controlling the human population. It's survival of the fittest out there. Those who are weak will die. Those who are strong will live on to see another day. That is the way the Circle of Life works. Natural selection is a phenomenon that no vaccine can fix.

Ironically, my job is all about protecting humans. I'm not sure if you could classify a Dhampirs as 'human'. Yes we look like humans, yes our mothers are humans, but the dominate side of our genetic make up is vampire. Over 70% of our DNA is vampire, 20% of it is unknown, and the other 10% is human. Some believe that the unknown 20% is demon DNA. I suppose that it is possible. Whatever Dhampirs are, we're a relatively useful and lively bunch. We hunt and kill demons, werewolves, hybrids, other Dhampirs, vampires, and witches; really, anything that posses a threat on the human civilization, we kill it. No questions asked. None of us really care as long as we get our paycheck at the end of an order. Most of us find the killing quite entertaining, others are forced into it by the U.S and Canadian governments.

From the time we are seven, we are training four hours a day to be killers. Hell, we're bred for killing. It's extremely rare for vampires and humans to have offspring out of love. Many times the human women is raped and left to give birth to and raise the child alone. Seven years after, the child is recruited and trained until they're sixteen. By that time, we are efficient killers. Those who exceed the expectations, are given the position as the leader of their own 'team', if you want to call it that. Half of the recruits of that year will be split off, and will be trained to deal with injuries medicine. They become the Medical Technicians. These technicians are the essential building blocks to the 'team'.

The 'team' usually consists of the Captain, the Second, two hunters, and a medical technician. The Captain, as explained before, is the leader. They make sure that the orders run smoothly and that the job gets done. The Second is the leaders' second in command. He or she is in command if something were to happen to the Captain. They essentially look after the order documents and weaponry. The hunters are those who enjoy hunting people down. They will usually be the fastest two members of the team.

I started my training, like everyone else, at seven years of age. I trained under one the most brutal person I know. My grandfather. That man could have you pissing your pants with just a glance. My grandfather was the father of my mother, making him human. He also hated me for reasons unknown to me and my mother. My mother was one of the lucky humans. She married my father and lived happily ever after yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, the guy hated me. Do I care why? Nope. Never have and never will.

In my 3rd year of training, they brought in a new batch of 'younglings' as they called them. Among them, was a quiet, short, and very slim girl by the name of Bridgette; although she hissed at anyone who didn't call her Bri. She was fierce for someone of her size, and rarely lost a sparring match. She intrigued me. Her wild black curly hair and violet eyes were unlike anything I had ever seen. She was just… breath taking. Even at seven, everyone knew that she would be something great when she was older.

At 10 she was the best fighter in her group. At the time I was 13, the second best fighter in my own group. 3 years later she was still the best fighter, and I was ready to graduate. By the time she was 14 she was graduated and given her own team. I happened to be assigned to her team, a Hunter as I was the fastest among the five of us. The other members were: James, my older brother, who was the Medic, Jessica, the appointed Second who thought she was better than everyone else, and Garret, a homosexual African American who could make anyone smile on a bad day; who was also a Hunter.

I still look back on those days, and wonder where everything went wrong…

Chapter 1: November 2007


I rolled over and drew the blankets over my head. I had been trying to ignore my mother's shrill calls the past five minutes. Lord knows that the women could holler on and on without getting tired.

"Blake Keith Jackson, het your lazy ass ohut of bed this minute!"

"What do you want!" I called.

"Vhat do I vant? I vant you to het up!"

I rolled my eyes. With her thick German accent it was almost impossible to understand what she was saying. I was glad that I had grown up with it my whole life otherwise we'd have a situation. "Why?" I called back. I was getting irritated and rolled over onto my back.

"Vhy? Vhat do you mean vhy!" she hollered. Was it so hard for her to walk up the stairs? "Did you forhet about your meeting?"

I shot up and out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet. Downstairs I heard my mother say, 'Sure, nov he hets up. Trust the boh to never listen to his mother.'

I scrambled around my room and picked up a shirt. I smelt it and nearly gagged. Not clean. I threw the shirt back to the floor and grabbed another one, smelt it, and thrust it over my head. Pants. Need pants. Thrown over the back of my chair was a pair of jeans. I wasn't sure if they were clean or not but I really didn't have time to contemplate it. When I had my jeans on I sprinted into the bathroom and groaned. One side of my spiky silver hair was flattened to my head; the other side was sticking out in all directions. I turned on the tap and put my head under the faucet, washing it for about three seconds. When I was sure that it was all soaked through, I took a towel to it. I threw the towel to the ground and ran my hands through the still wet locks. Good enough. I brushed my teeth quickly and raced downstairs. "Mama, ich brauche Essen!" Mom, I need food! I called as I nearly slid into a wall. Jogging into the kitchen, I was greeted by my mother thrusting an apple into my hands.

"Hurry!" she scolded, pushing me to the front door. I grabbed one of my hoodies off the coat hook and threw it over my around. "Danke mama!" Thank you mom.

"Shoes!" she cried, running after me with a pair of my old ratty Coverse in her hands. I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed the shoes from her.

I raced out of the door and inhaled the crisp autumn air. In the driveway was my true love… my white 1996 Volkswagen Beetle. Not the most manly car in the world… In my defense, my older brother, James, and I built it together from scratch. Now that's manly. Anywho the thing runs like a dream and has never let me down! It's my baby and I don't care what people say about it. Sure I haveto slouch a little bit to see out the windshield…but that's because I'm freakishly tall. Being 6'2 with a small car is not fun…

As I was walking to my car I managed to slip on an icy puddle. I muttered curses under my breath and caught my balance; then looked around to see if anyone had noticed my epic fail. Luckily for me, it was nine o'clock in the morning on a Saturday, November, and freaking cold out. I mean, it had to be at least -15 Celsius out! And of course, when I opened the door to my little car, cold air rushed out to greet me. I muttered more curses and started up the engine. My phone told me that it was 9:10… the meeting was at 9:30. The meeting place was across town… I could make it.

When the engine was warmed up, I blasted the heat and carefully drove the car to the street. I had kept forgetting to put snow tires on my car, and I really didn't want to total it on one of the most important days of my life. Yeah. No pressure or anything.

In Walnut Grove, British Columbia, our winters are…interesting. They start off cold, then get colder, and thenBAM. It rains. Thanks to global warming, or whatever the hell it is, we don't usually get snow anymore. So practically, it rains ten months out of the year. You learn to deal with the wet and cold.

Walnut Grove is a nice little area of Langley, about an hour and a half away from Vancouver City, depending on the traffic. The people are nice, once you get past the small population of drug addicts. It depends on the part of town you live I guess. It's relatively quiet, there's a ton of kids and young families in the area. The high school has about two-thousand students and the elementary schools are full. It's a nice place to live I suppose. I move around a lot because of my job, and this is one of the better places I've lived. It's defiantly better than Downtown Vancouver. You ever come to Vancouver, stay away from East Hastings Street. If you don't want to get mugged, or offered drugs, just stay away from the place.

I pulled up to the Murrayville Hall, about three minutes from Walnut Grove, and sprinted up the old, creaky stairs. The white wooden doors opened and I smacked right into someone. I went stumbling backwards and tumbled down the stairs, landing on my ass in the gravel. I heard the person I slammed into fall back with a surprise cry. I did have time to figure out whoever I hit was male, and African American.

I was muttering curses in German as I examined my hands when the person spoke up: "Ya' mind watchin' where ya goin'?

I looked up and raised an eyebrow. What surprised me wasn't his shortness, his dreadlocks, or his orange colored eyes. No, what surprised me was the pink tank top, purple high tops, white skinny jeans, and the pink and purple scarf around his neck.

'Oh my…'

"You can stop starin' now," The man said. He looked about my age, so around sixteen, seventeen. "I'm gay. Get over it." He said.

I stood up, feeling slightly guilty at staring. "Sorry, you just..." I paused, struggling for the right words.

"Surprised you?"

I nodded and smiled awkwardly, walking back up the steps. Standing in front of the dude, I realized just how short he really was. He had to be at least two heads shorter than me.

"Damn boy," he said, "You're fucking tall!" he paused and took a step back. His eyes scanned me from my torn sneakers, my jeans with a hole in the knee, the tee shirt, hoodie and finally up to my eyes. "Not bad lookin' either. Never seen those colored eyes," he grinned, "I could get used to lookin' at you everyday." He finished that sentence with a wink.

I stared blankly at the guy. 'Please tell me he didn't just say that…' Suddenly, the guy came to my side and slapped me… on the ass. I yelped and jumped forward. "What the-"

"Get in the building! You're late as it is!"

I avoided getting my ass slapped and pretty much sprinted into the dimly light Hall.

'Jesus that was terrifying. This is why I stay away from gay men…'

The guy walked in beside me and smiled brilliantly.

"Guys, look what the gay man dragged in!"

I narrowed my eyes at my brother, James. "Damn, you're here? Can I never be rid of you?" I muttered as he slung one of his arms over my shoulders with a laugh.

"Sorry little brother, you'll never be rid of me!"

"Well fuck. I guess I'm going to have to kill myself. Hope they have room in hell for me."

James laughed and dragged me to the table that was set up in the middle of the room.

He hadn't changed in the four years he had been gone. His inky black hair was still held back in a pony tail at the nape of his neck. He was my height, but a lot more muscular. Silver eyes were still full of amusement, and his mouth was forever set into an infuriating smirk.

There were six chairs. When the other guy sat down, that made four chairs occupied. Tyler, the head of the Dhampir Council, was sitting at the head of the table. He was possibly the most terrifying person you would ever meet. He had no irises; just black eyes that glared at you, no matter his mood. On his left, to my great surprise, was Bri. Her wild curly black hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head and violet eyes stared curiously at me from behind thick black lashes. Her white skin practically glowed in the crappy lighting, set off by her dark clothing and hair. Next to Bri, to my complete horror, was a girl named Jessica. She was also obsessed with me. Her blonde hair was straightened perfectly ,probably with the help of a can of hairspray, and cascaded onto her shoulders. She had about a pound of make-up on, making her look twenty-seven instead of sixteen and her boobs were popping out of her shirt. She looked like a high class slut.

My brother forced me into a chair across from Bri, while he sat next to me. The guy I had bumped into was sitting at the other end of the table, directly across from Tyler, and was staring at me with a smile. Creepy. Jessica was also staring at me with a smile, twirling a lock of her hair around a manicured finger and leaning forward to show off her boobs. Ew. Bri was slouched back in her chair, picking at her nails while chewing gum. She had a high necked grey tee shirt with ear buds dangling around her neck.

"Alright," Tyler suddenly spoke up, making me jump a little, "Now that we are finally all here," he gave me an annoyed looked, "We can get started."

O_O... i haven't been on Fictionpress for like... LOL 2 years at least XD

i have this story up on Wattpad, but decided that I wanted to see how it would do up on this site... so here it is lmao

i am a little rusty on my german, as Blake and his mother are german, and will speak it more later on, so if anyone sees any mistakes, please let me know :)

ALSO. Yes Garret is supposed to be obnoxiously gay XD he's based off my cousin's boyfriend.. 8D

anyway review and i'll hand out cookies :P