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Aiden stood at his girlfriend's grave with his now only friend, and fought against the anxious turning in his stomach, willing himself to not vomit. Three years ago, his girlfriend Adara had taken the coward's exit, using her car and her garage to asphyxiate her life away. And, now, Aiden was holding on by bloodied fingernails. But, he wasn't contemplating suicide. Responsibility kept those thoughts at bay. What tormented his soul, he couldn't put a finger on.

His palms were sweaty, heart racing. The mid summer air was filled with dense humidity, making it almost impossible for him to suck enough oxygen into his struggling lungs. An anxiety attack, his head tormented by circumstances beyond his understanding.

Suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem, a mental illness. Aiden didn't want to tell anyone that there was no mystery to be solved regarding Adara's death. External factors did not force his girlfriend to commit suicide. It was an internal factor, the sickness in his girlfriend's head. It was like a disease, it had affected him. But in a totally different way.

Aiden was dismayed that dusk was gathering. To him, dusk represented death, the death of day, the time when he couldn't prevent himself from reflecting on bygone events and gloomily conclude that life was just a meaningless cycle of monotony followed by eternal nothingness. He couldn't turn the tide and . . . and what? What did he want to do? He couldn't figure it out. But, dusk taunted him, drowned him in its death.

Aiden didn't believe in God or any of that eternal crap. When his only love snuffed out her life, that was her finality, it was his as well. Weak people needed God, used Him as a crutch to explain away their misery instead of just sucking it up and forging ahead. Aiden's beliefs caused him much anxiety and sleepless nights, worried about dying, but he couldn't stop the tide from turning – bloodied fingernails or not.


The click of heels against pavement was lost among the city noise that night as a young figure made her way among the streets. Surprisingly alive for this time of night, the city was bustling with night life, just how the vampiress loved it. Nineteen possibly- at a stretch, if you didn't take into account that it was more than likely she'd lived longer than any mortal in the pathetic town. Although tonight her features were set in a sheer determination, she'd find some ammusement this time. A small smile curved her lips, an air of control about her. And her stride screamed confidence, as if she owned the place. Which, in all actuality, was a possibility. She was over these humans, this disgrace. It was a buffet, and she had endless choices. It was all business really, nothing personal.

Auburn locks fell about her shoulders, bright green eyes sparkling behind dead eyelids. Pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as she flawlessly parted the crowds, passing underneath street lamps, headed everywhere and nowhere. A silky red fabric stretched across her chest, the same in a black holding to the curves of her hips. Something made to entice the men, attract a meal.


Aiden's body was shivering, was it from fear of what he planned to do? Or from the sheer cold of the night. What was it with him, was he imagining things? It was a summer night, maybe the cold was in his mind. Feeling so alone for so long, must have stolen the warmth from him. All his happiness, as well.

He shook as much of his memories and pain away, for a short moment. To at least seem like a sane, caring young man. Aiden sighed, it was getting late. So it was probably time for him to head home. As he was preparing to turn, he heard the softest of voices somewhere in the darkness. Maybe it was just the night toying with him.

Somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn't just the night. It was a creature of the night, a being so vile, so cruel, it didn't deserve to live. Aiden had found a note Adara had written to him a few months after she took her own life. It consisted of her apologizing for not being able to tell him herself why she wanted to die. Truth-be-told, Adara was a vampire. It was her first night being one with the night. And she couldn't take it.

Adara was out late one night, when she was fed upon. It took her a few moments, until she realized what had happened. And what it was that bit into her. She couldn't live apart from Aiden, she couldn't only see him in the night. She couldn't live without him, which is why she killed herself.

All this was written in the note. And at the bottom, it read:

'Cemetery' and some blurred out word next to it. Possibly a name.



The couple walking past the park, the intoxicated teens coming out of the clubs. It was all a game. All a game that Natalie knew all too well. She would even go as far as to call herself a master of her craft. So who would it be tonight? The innocent young man just entering a club for the first time, or the cocky bartender with eyes to kill. It would be a nice match, she had a smile that could kill. Literally.

Although as she walked the night streets, she remained undecided. It was as if there was something better, lurking around the corner. She would only settle for the prime, the select few. Maybe she'd be generous tonight, give someone the gift of eternity. An eternity of playing the game, perfecting your craft.

Love the good reviews, but I seriously don't know where I can go with it now. I hate writers block, which is sheer irony. This section is entitled 'Writers Block'. *sigh*