Prologue: March 16, 1995
"Please, you don't have to do this!" The woman pleaded, tears sliding down her cheeks. He stared at her. She really wasn't that ugly for a human, except her face which earlier seemed almost like porcelain was now red; her make-up running, her eyes bloodshot. He couldn't help but smile, revealing a set of white teeth and a pair of long fangs. He loved the way the human woman recoiled, the terror in her light green eyes increasing.
"I'm afraid I do. You see," He took a step closer to her, making her whimper and back further into the corner. It's not like she could go anywhere. He was the one in control. No matter how fast she ran or where she chose to hide, he would find her. She owed him. They all did, "I am the reason you, your husband over there along side your son, and your daughter are alive. Unless you've forgotten."
"I know, and we're all grateful, but why our daughter?" It was the man who spoke up from the other side of the room. He looked over where the husband sat with his twelve year old son on the couch. If he remembered correctly, the old mans name was Darren and the sons name was Mark. The daughter whom they were talking about was upstairs, asleep, three months old as of that day. From the moment he set eyes on her he knew she was different. She was a very beautiful little girl; a small head of black hair, light ocean blue eyes, and the prettiest smile he had ever seen on a young child not even a week old. Sixteen years from now, when that little girl was older, she would be perfect.
"I want a companion, Mr. Reynolds. Your daughter Christa is the one I choose." He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet, rich, innocent smell of her blood. His mouth watered. "Her blood calls to me like no others has in the five hundred years I've walked this earth."
"Please don't take her Erick. Please!" The human woman...Annabelle pleaded again. He was almost tired of her constant pleading. But he couldn't kill her. She needed to take care of her daughter until the time was right.
"I won't yet Mrs. Reynolds. Christa isn't old enough, or prepared to come with me. So you will raise her, along with your husband and son. You have what she needs." He glanced over at them. They were still on the couch. If he still had some actual humanity left in his heart, the young boys tears would've almost hurt, made him reconsider what he was doing. But none of that mattered to him anymore. It hadn't for so long. Looking away, back to the woman who was now kneeling on the floor, pressed so far into the wall to get away from him that he was surprised she wasn't molded into the drywall. "You will raise her as you would a normal child. You will love her, care for her, and teach her the basic things she needs to know. And on her sixteenth birthday I will come and do the rest." The woman stared at him. Her mind was too out of control for him to even want to read. So was the father and son.
"After that we'll never see her again." Her voice was shaky. Of course they would never see her again. She would be his. Only his.
"You have sixteen years Mrs. Reynolds. Now I am going to see your daughter one last time before I go." The pathetic humans were too scared to move or even speak a word that defied him. As a vampire, he knew they knew that he could end their life in a heartbeat if he wanted.
"Please don't hurt her." It was the child who spoke. He just looked back to him as he reached the stairs and nodded. The boy was lucky he received that from him.
As he entered the little girls room he closed the door behind him. Above the crib was a small light, and silver moonbeams shone through the windows. Other than that, the room was dark. He could see perfectly. The room was painted a calming shade of purple, the crib was light oak stained dark. In the corner, next to a well stocked changing table, was a rather comfortable looking rocking chair.