All you people are vampires
All your stories are stale
And Though you pretend to stand by us
I know you’re certain we´ll fail
The night was dark. It was always dark. Never any stars, rarely a shining moon. Earth was so unlike Earth now, but Ophelia was used to it. She'd been living through this hell for 19 years. The vampires had invaded when she was just 9 years old. Back when her name was Nora. Back when life was shitty, but better than anything this life would ever sum up to.
Ophelia sat next to a large oak tree in an even larger forest in an even larger continent that went by the somewhat small name of Russia. Every one was fleeing there nowadays. Not to forests, but to Russia. Not soon after she turned 17, Ophelia had heard that it was safer than Minnesota was...but, even though she didn't think it was possible, it was colder than her home state and, not as surprising, more terryfying...the vampires here were vicious. The ABs ruled the entire continent and there were Os scavenging everywhere she turned. Ophelia...her names was Ophelia because the horrible monsters that took over the world could only drink their own blood type. How would they know who was what unless they changed their names to start with the letter of their type? Treating them like animals. That's all the humans were to these savages...but were they really savages? Ophelia shuddered despite her fur coat, curling closer against to tree to try and contain warmth. It was cold in the Taiga during the day, but during the night it was even worse. She didn't dare light a fire in fear of being found. As far as she knew, she was the only O that wasn't locked up in some dungeon being sucked dry...
A twig snapped not too far in the distance and Ophelia jumped straight to her feet, her booted feet sinking in the thick snow. A vampire. She'd been found...she pulled the long sword from it's hilt and held it defensivelyly in front of her. Holding it made her feel safe, even though she knew it wouldn't kill them permanently. The story of how she received it was a rather remarkable one...but for another time. That's another chapter. All that needs to be known for now, was that it was once owned by a vampire. It was a bright silver, extremely sharp, and the hilt was a pitch black with a beautiful red jewel in the center. It was all of those things, but by far the most important thing was that it was light yet steardy.
Another twig snapped in the opposite direction. More than one? Ophelia wasn't sure she could take on more than one...another snap. Oh dear god and a rustle in the trees. How many were there? She gripped the sword tightly between her fingers, her knuckles turning white, her knees wobbling...Then in an instant, three figures appeared from the surround trees, and one jumped swiftly from the branches above. She swung her sword, but they didn't even attack, or step closer. She paused and it took her a moment to realize they were humans.
