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About seventeen years ago, a vampire woman was giving birth alone in the middle of the woods. Her lover had abandoned her when he learned of her pregnancy, and she refused to take herbs to abort it. She was heartbroken, but there was just something about the little stranger who was growing inside of her that she just couldn't let her do it. Her lover was kicked out of the clan as soon as the elders learned of his betrayal, much to her dismay. She had hoped that once he saw the face of the precious baby they had made together, he would change his mind.

Due to her distraction by giving birth, she never heard the wolves approaching. Because of a vampires high blood diet, their meat is a favorite among carnivores, but due to a vampire's strength and speed, it is exceedingly rare for them to get any. Tonight their were in luck - at her cost. Before she knew it, she was surrounded. She tried to scare them off by hissing and snarling, but the wolves weren't fazed; they knew easy prey when they saw it.

They attacked in unison, their ferocious bites tearing viciously at her flesh. She screamed in pain and horror. Her body and mind in pain - her child was going to die, and by these savage beasts. Never was she going to be able to raise her child, to love her child. She didn't even know her own child's gender! Her child would die without a name. It was all too much to bear. She kept screaming out, in agony. The leader of the pack soon grew tired of her, and ended her life swiftly by biting down on her neck.

That was all it took to finally push the baby out of her body. At first, the wolves didn't notice, until the child started to cry. They immediate fought over who would eat it - a baby vampire was the ultimate delicacy. One wolf sneaked over to the baby while the others were brawling and tore off the child arm. The intensity of the cries brought the act to the attention of the pack. He was surrounded, and the baby left out of their minds for a moment.

A dark shadow feel upon the pack. They whimpered and watched each others backs. The demons heard the cries of distress of the now deceased mother, and their curiosity got the best of them. They saw the child with a missing arm, who was also bleeding profusely, and they took pity on him; an unheard of occurrence. They killed the pack unmercifully, and took the baby with them.

To save the child's life, they had to give him an ancient weapon - a demon arm that could not be used before, because they were already a demon, and they did not take kindly to other races. It was deadly and had unforetold powers. The only way attached to the arm though, he had to be cursed; thus was the cost of having such a powerful and unique arm. The curse was to never be able to find love - not with friends, family, or a lover. For this curse, he was marked. These marks looked exactly like tattoos, all over his torso, and across his eyes. He was practically half demon. They named him Noct 9 - Noct for their leader, and 9 for the generation he'd take in the leader's family.

The demons raised him and taught him hate, cruelness, and how to be unmerciful. He was a worse than a sociopath. He took pleasure at the pain of others. He laughed in the face of death. He enjoyed the misery of others. Kindness was completely unknown to him, as was love.