• The sounds of many voices filled the air; a woman stood quietly, the emerald irises narrowed- a piercing stare- hearing the many voices which gave off a melodic sound. Her eyes were round, yet simple and contained black with a hint of lilac hidden underneath the eyelashes. Around her neck was a golden locket which contained a constructed and complex secret. The air about her ravenous figure contained such a glory, her breasts round connecting to her chest, she had a lovely bodice with an imaginable figure that looked innocent, but could be dominated at any waking moment that she pleased to do so. Her skin was pale, ivory to contrast the pools of ebony to cascade down her shoulders to her waist, the glossy hair as black as her name. Her face almost heart shaped, her cheeks were lightly tinted in pink, the only color to lighten up her face. Her slender arms extended gracefully, her hands a perfect sculpture, the hands of a true lady. Upon her left arm, however, a large scar could be seen, the result of a terrible accident of her past. Although a distant memory, the jagged image of the scar reminded her of her task at hand. Her calm gaze turned skyward, the melodic voices still ringing in her ears. Soft sheets of rain fell from the sky, and she was convinced the sky cried on her behalf, a thousand angelic tears. Her hands slipped unconsciously into the terrain jacket she wore, the protection allowing the various drops of rain to splash, bouncing off the smooth texture of the weather resistant material. The sleeveless green turtle neck clung tenaciously to her, the damp clothing stuck against her form. Even the rough black jeans were thoroughly soaked, the rounded crystal drops of rain collecting and sliding from the black boots she wore. A gentle sigh escaped from her lips, and her eyes slowly fluttered shut. Roan...Her thoughts drifted away with the night. As her eyes slid open, she gazed fondly upon the moon, the pale face in the sky would hide behind the dark cirrus clouds that wandered aimlessly in the sky, a never ending game of hide and seek. Although they did not touch, the young woman sensed the presence at her side. A large, pallid hand curled in such a grotesque manner before her, and she felt the hand push her limp ebony bangs from her eyes, as it clung to the sides of her face and neck. The hand had dropped to its side, then, and she turned to gaze at her companion: Even in the dark, the elder man towered over her by two feet, an abnormally tall size for a mortal man. Yet although she herself was not a mortal, and neither was her friend, she still believed him to be extremely tall. His features were dark, his skin, like hers, very pale, almost wax-like. Cloaked and hooded, she could still make out what little features were shown. Livid saffron irises with little or no emotion stared out into the night. It was in these eyes that she saw the true nature of Roan, his cold demeanor too obvious. A man of little words, she knew him to spend his time brooding over thoughts one could only dream to comprehend. Haunted and torn by his past, Roan was a martyr. The wind picked up, sweeping the hood back, a solemn look flashed in his eyes, and he then looked down to her. His lips pressed together, as he contemplated on what she was thinking as she watched him, his golden eyes searched her emerald ones. He was fond of this creature, this Raven. Roan reflected on the fact that they shared a common darkness. Gently he shook his head, as the rain began to fall in torrents, droplets flung from his short silvery-white locks. He watched the veins of water streak her cheeks, the steady dripping sound as they fell from her chin. Raven’s gaze finally tore from Roan’s, unable to hold it much longer. As a vampire, Roan had a mental, physical, and emotional power that dominated his surroundings. As to why he would be at the service of a hybrid such as her self, she still wondered, the question still unanswered. Quite suddenly, she found herself in the arms of the man, whose grip tightened. With haste he feinted right, dragging Raven with him with almost no effort. Alarmed, Raven knew something was wrong. She looked to Roan, a wondrous look in her eyes. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown “It’s Them.” Raven’s eyes widened, distressed; the melodic voices no longer rung in her ears. It was replaced with the beastly, metallic screech of the raptor like creatures. “We’re surrounded.” Roan observed. His dark, monotonous voice chilled Raven more than the rain had, as it fell relentlessly, a curtain of water to blind the senses of sight. With grace, the vampire slid back, narrowly out of reach of the whip like tail that appeared from no where. A series of chips and trills; They were communicating with each other. Intelligent creatures of another world, with the sole purpose of eradication of any one or thing it was ordered to kill. Raven felt the chill of the rain; her labored breathing came and dispersed as a light fog. She felt the fear well up within her, that which They fed off of. Slowly she felt as though she was nothing but a weak coward. “Roan,” she groaned softly, the magic of the raptor like creatures greedily feeding off of her fear. In her mind, they preyed upon the dark memories of her tragic past, allowing them to resurface. A slender arm extended, as Raven mustered every ounce of courage left in her. She forced herself to focus, the cat like pupils constricted. Roan turned his back as a six inch claw lashed out, he grit his teeth as it carved into his flesh. Had he been one second slower, Raven would have been ripped open. Straining to see, Raven felt the air around her shift, answering and responding to her aura, the green like mist that veiled her when visible. The horrible screeches sounded, They were alarmed at the increase of power shown from the creature they were sent to murder. In a single moment, everything stopped. The setting seemed to freeze with time itself. There was a sudden blinding flash of light, only to be followed by darkness.
    Why were things so slow? What happened? Everything is so jerked around and slow. I can’t see, anymore. Only darkness is around me, now. Am I alone? Where is Roan? I cannot see him, anymore. He promised to stay with me…but I cannot see him. Am I dead? Oh, how I wish I knew what happened…
    The dull throbbing of pain resonated throughout her crumpled form, and Raven lay disoriented upon several bags of horrid-smelling trash. Not far from where she lay, could she hear the sound of cars as they zoomed by, and the murmur and steps of people passing along, ignorant of the young woman who had appeared in the dark alley between the buildings that stood there. The stench of the trash, which strong enough to wake even the dead, had wafted to Raven whom immediately gagged and convulsed momentarily, her body’s reaction from being forced back to consciousness. A low groan of agony, and she flung her arms wildly, lashing out until the back of her left hand smacked hard upon the crumbling, brick surface of the wall of the nearest building. Cursing quietly, and grunting with effort, she pulled herself from the revolting smell and bags of the trash, stumbling out into the alley way. Something was terribly wrong then, as she then turned her head skyward, the ebony curtain of hair sweeping behind her shoulders. Craning her head in the direction of the traffic, a cold wave of terror icily crashed upon her. Darkness had consumed her vision, and she could no longer see as she had before. Raven had become blind.
    The dainty hand extended before her, Raven’s delicate fingers swept across the rough texture of the wall, stepping away from the sounds of civilization and traffic. Occasionally, and often cursing, she found herself walking into a puddle of water, which must have collected from the rainfall. Raven then became keenly aware that the rain had stopped falling. How long had she been here? And where exactly was here? Roan...her thoughts once more drifted to her silent companion. She wished dearly for his presence, as her fear of being alone welled up within her bosom. Breathing exercises served no use to Raven, who felt the rising panic began to affect how calm she could be. Taking a deep, humid breath, Raven tried to calm, yet within seconds, exhaled sharply, and found herself at a loss of air once more. A cool breeze swept through, and her although her jacket served as protection, an ominous chill caused the young woman to shiver. A sigh of despair escaped her, and Raven leaned her back against the wall of the opposite of where she had awakened. This was disastrous…
    Cold water hit him, like several thousand knives penetrating into his flesh and soul, numbing him completely. By instinct, he kicked, his legs moving furiously, until the sweet breathe of air entered his lungs, smothering the burning sensation in which he felt. The cold saffron eyes glanced around him calmly, as he treaded on the surface of the body of water in which he felt himself drop. A shock occurred to him when he realized that Raven was no longer with him. With that notion in mind, he took a single deep breath and dropped below the water once more. The primary eyelids lifted, and at first his vision was blurred. Then, his eyes were shielded by the slimy, film like membrane that served as his secondary eyelids. Like a magnifying glass, Roan was able to see clearly in the chilling, murky water. There was no sign of Raven, and he felt no aura tracing of her, whatsoever. Breaking to the surface, Roan could see how far out from the city he was. The thought occurred to him that when Raven unleashed her power, her maternal instinct unconsciously kicked in, in the sense that she wanted both herself and Roan in a safe place away from Them. They had dispersed, however, and both Roan and Raven were vulnerable. Pursing his lips, Roan weighed his options. The familiarity of his cloak was irritatingly heavy from the saturation of water, and with little to no effort, had parted from his favorite article of clothing. The large, pallid hand swept his silvery white hair back from his eyes, and he sighed quietly, the droplets of the murky salt water repelled from his lips. Propelling himself forward, Roan then began the credulous journey back to the mainland of the city. It was imperative that he return to Raven’s side.
    Why had her vision left her? Was it from her power? Sage green optics stared blankly at what she had assumed was the ground. Fear has consumed her like a vicious lion, and her delicate frame almost seemed to rattle from the dropping temperature, and the thought that she was without Roan, or her sight, made it no better. They could find her easily, and They could rip her apart. The echo of their metallic screeching resonating through her mind, and Raven shuddered, sinking further in the stance she took of leaning against the wall. The cool, dampening scent of the saturated air from the rain made her uneasy. No longer could she hear the sound of the cars, or the stepping of people walking along the sidewalks of the streets. Raven felt a stinging sensation in her eyes, followed by the warm, salty trail of tears streaming down her lovely pale cheeks. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach only scared her more, and she slid to a seat on the ground. Not far from her, was the ribbed texture of a cardboard box. Raven ran her fingers across the edges, gauging the size of the box, and what it might have been used to ship. She guessed it to be the size of a large T.V, no doubt for a home, or office building around the area. She knew it was either the box, or the dumpster she could smell nearby the box, and she took care to rest her head upon the box. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her trembling body, and Raven had never felt so weak. All hope or common sense had abandoned here, and she had taken to resting where she lay for then. A nap would not hurt her, after all, would it? A deeper darkness swept over her: the dark, blanket of sleep.
    “Raven…Raven.” Whose voice was that? It was so soothing, so seductively reaching out to her consciousness. Whose voice called to her from so far away? Raven sighed softly, a calm washing over her. She felt as though she were light as a feather. An oddly warm hand gently cupped her cheek, the same warm sensation rushing through her shivering body, and Raven felt herself no longer trembling. She knew that comfortably warm sensation. Her tiny, dainty hands reached up, even as her eyes still shut, and she felt the cheeks of the one who held her, her thumbs idly massaged the cool flesh. Racing up the side of the face, the head lowered, and her fingers combed through the short strands, which were damp and matted in the oddest places. As though her hands had gone numb, they dropped into her lap. The slow pattern of breathing emitted from the stranger, until she felt every dispersed breath upon her neck, and the lips gently pressing upon the flesh, attracted to the pulse point. Gently did those lips kiss upon that one place, a deep, passionate kiss, until they pulled away. A low moan escaped her, as she felt the familiar white hot pain of ivory fangs, piercing the beautiful pale flesh, allowing the beads of crimson to flow past lips. Raven hardly minded- it was expected of Roan. The vampire relied heavily upon her blood, which she willingly shared. In many ways, he had enchanted her and whether he used her for his own purposes or not, she did not care.
    The connection which he had lost from her was found, as the luscious taste of her blood rested upon his tongue, and he gratefully swallowed the mouthful he had taken from her. His cheek pressed against the warmth he had restored to her, smearing the blood upon his own flesh. The wound upon her neck slowly lessened, until the tiniest scar was left, hardly marring her skin. “You were not at my side.” Roan looked to her, when she had finally awakened her from her deep sleep, his dark voice having the calming effect upon Raven, whom replied “I have lost my sight, from when They attacked. I would have looked for you, but I could not see. I was…frightened.” Instinctively, she reached to grasp a handful of his cloak, when she realized he no longer wore it. Fingers sweeping from his shoulders to his arms, she felt a slight disturbance: the hem of a shirt? Roan indeed sported the black muscle shirt, which perfectly sculpted his masculine chest, which rose and fell steadily in calm succession. With each movement, there was a rattle of chains, which Raven knew to hang from the man’s favorite pair of jeans he wore when out in the town. “Where are we?” Raven asked, almost timidly, she still felt slight alarm in not knowing her location. Roan was quick to glance over his shoulder, scanning the area around them, “An alley, down town. It’s late, we should return.” Raven felt the hand press against the side of her head, and following the motion, leaned her head against his side, her face half buried, “Sleep.” The command was firm, and the power of Roan’s aura laced in his monotonous voice, and Raven once more felt the blanket of sleep overwhelming her, trusting Roan to return them home safely.
    Roan carefully carried himself up the stairs, with the unconscious woman in his arms. He could have killed her, right then, as he slowly ascended up the staircase. He could have raped her, then, gently placing her limp body on the cotton sheets of the bed. He could have easily snapped her fragile neck. Yet he had no desire to lay harm to the weak creature. Roan reflected upon his past. He had, once upon a time, tried to kill her. Yet even on that same night, something about her changed him. He stepped away from the bed, his nocturnal sight taking in the scene of the room around them: The bed was simple and plain, white sheets and black pillow cases. A long black sheet draped over one side where the window was, to keep most of the light away during the afternoon. There was a large bookcase on the right of the bed, a dresser on the opposite wall on the left. A medium sized desk, chair, and lamp could be seen upon entering the room on one’s immediate left. Roan liked the simplicity of his room; it was a place which he could lock himself away to dwell on the many thoughts to enter and escape his mind. He turned from Raven, stepping quietly towards the door, and passing through it, closed it behind him. On this night, he would dwell elsewhere. The sacrifice of his space was small. There was, after all, a great deal of things more important than one room. There was Raven, herself, whom he had sworn to guard for the rest of his days as a vampire. It was pride that kept him going, and the bond that had grown between him self and the strange girl. Yet was she really so strange? Or as normal as the girls who he flirted when he played with his ‘meals’? It was another question that stumped the vampire; another lifetime to reflect upon it.