Kate's breath caused a small grey fog to cover the window. The chilly night air outside the window was kept outside of her cozy warm house. She stared out the window at the sighing trees, as the wind whistled through the leaves.
Kate stuck her finger in the dewy fog covering the window and drew her finger in elegant arcs. When she finished her name was spelled out in cursive on the window. It read, "Kate" but she was unsatisfied and added a "y" creating "Katey". At the age of 16 she was going between the two names, Kate was what most people called her, but her close friends and parents referred to her as Katey.
Kate's reflection in the window showed her dark chocolate, silky, straight hair. Kate's blue eyes gleamed and her small nose was curved right above her thin lipped mouth. The one thing Kate didn't know at the time, was that this was one of the last times she'd see her reflection.
Kate turned away from the window and looked around her room. Kate was sitting on her bed which was wedged in the corner of the room. Kate's dresser was across from her, littered with brushes, makeup, books, and her drawing notebooks. Next to her dresser stood the ajar door.
She laid back on her bed. With a loud creak, Kate was comfortable and she pulled out her notebook.
She always had a knack for drawing, and they were always mistaken for black and white photos, they were so realistic. Kate kept her drawing as if they were her dairy entries. Kate's pictures meant more to her than lines on paper; they told stories all on their own. They recorded her life story and kept it safe.
Kate turned her head from her drawing and to the door, hearing something. The noise sounded like someone knocking at the door, but who would be here at this hour? Kate's stomach did an odd flip, an uncomfortable, nervous feeling. Something wasn't right about the late night visitor.
The patting of her father's feet were heard going down the hall and to the door. She didn't want to know what was behind the door. Kate didn't understand why, but she just didn't want to see it. Something just wasn't right, and was about to get worse.
She pulled her blanket close and walked across her room to peak out the door. Kate saw her father in front of the door, he reached out his hand and turned the door knob. The door creaked open slowly and Kate held her breath.
A shadowy figure stood outside the door. He smiled a twisted smile and one may have glimpsed two, large, white fangs. Though in the darkness, his unnaturally pale skin was visible, though his eyes were hidden by the darkness.
"What brings you here at this time of night? Don't you know people actually sleep?" Her father asked, apparently he didn't get a good look at the inhuman man before him.
"Oh I know you mortals sleep at night. But I enjoy the darkness and night, it is my favorite time of the day." The man's cold, dark voice rang out through the night.
"Why are you here?" Her father finally asked and got a good look at the man as he stepped into the light. The man had dark hair that drooped down into his blood red eyes.
"Oh, yes. That matter," he cleared his throat and spoke, "I came to feast!" The man grabbed Kate's father with a pale hand.
Kate covered her mouth and watched in horror as the man bit down on her farther's neck. Kate looked away and raced to the bed. She laid flat against the floor and slid under the bed. Kate wrapped herself tightly in her blanket.
Thud. The lifeless body that was once her farther drop to the floor. Tears streamed down Kate's face. A man just walked in to my house and killed her father... She laid there, terrified, confused, and feeling helpless.
Who was this man?
What is he doing here?
And what the heck was he?
YOU ARE READING
Turned
Vampire"Blood. It's wonderful." Since when did people think like a psychotic killer? Oh right, since they're turned into a red eyed, fanged, blood sucking freak. You don't get a choice, you can't fight your instincts. The craving for blood will drown out a...
