- VERONICA -

There's a vampire in my attic. A lone male, pumped full of Wolfsbane and bleeding from a gash that runs from his right shoulder to just above his waist. On his thighs are several bullet holes that won't heal, not unless I give him something.

I'm not going to give him something.

There's an odd sense of satisfaction to that thought, to knowing that for once it's my mercy to give or not give, my choice to kill or not kill, my turn to make them beg or make it quick. The world is a place for those with a lack of heart. It's one big prison with no way out, and you can be the one holding the club or the one beaten by it. The truth is, I've been beaten enough times to know the latter is no longer an option. Now it's my turn to be the one doing the beating, and I intend to go at it with everything I have. It's hurt or be hurt, kill or be killed. Deny it, and the whole world will crush you like a cockroach under their boots and never look back. That's how it works.

At least that's how I thought it did until I'm the one standing on the other side of the bars. If you think being the one holding the baton will solve all your problems, well, then let me tell you this much: it's still one big fucking prison with no way out. There's still no escape from pain, no healing for old scars. You can beat your enemy until your sweat runs dry, but you can't beat the past out of you. Believe me, I've tried.

Which is why I'm standing in front of the door, experiencing a small panic attack that paralyzes every nerve in my body as soon as I smell the blood coming through the gap from the other side. I hate that our blood smells the same, how, every time, it brings back memories of the massacre in that attic. The images of that night still thrive in my head like a bad song from childhood being stuck on repeat. I can still see everything just by standing in front of that door. The shape of my mother's arms curling around my brother's body. The awkward angle of my father's broken neck as he lay dying. Everything, down to the shape their pool of blood had made before those vampires stepped on it. They hid me in the wooden crate by the window because I was the only one small enough to fit. That was all there was to it, how I survived. I used to hate how small I was as a child. Now I hate it even more.

I close my eyes and swallow the bile in my throat, along with my dinner that is threatening to come back up. Four years of moving back into this house, of setting traps and hunting down vampires and I can still puke my guts like it was yesterday when my family had been killed in that attic over a single thought. Then again, I've chosen to come back and use this room for a reason. I'm here because it brings back every pain, every memory of what I've lost, of what they've taken from me. They're the steel of my blade, the nerves that make me pull the trigger, the adrenaline that helps me make decisions normal people - good people - can't make and still be able to live with themselves.

I draw the one breath I need and punch in the codes, waiting for the mechanical lock to turn before pushing the door open. The now windowless room is flooded with light from the fifteen white UV lamps I've installed in it, and it takes me a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. It's how I keep my vampires weak and defenseless in the middle of the night when they're most dangerous. Despite the more common knowledge about vampires, they don't actually die or burn in the sun like books and movies make you believe. That would have made my life so much easier if it did. The fact is, they just don't like being in the sun because they're weakened by it and they can't see. Think of them as nocturnal animals that are so well equipped to hunt in the dark that they can't function during the day. At night though, they're as hard to catch as trying to shoot down a bat in flight, and also impossible to do so without bait. It's why I had to go clean up the blood from my body before I come back here. The smell of our blood drives them crazy to the point of being rabid at times, and I need their brains to function for what I intend to do. At least long enough to get what I want.

It was difficult to catch this one with just silver bullets, which was strange in itself, not to mention the fact that he'd approached me in an entirely different manner than the rest. Most of them had jumped on me like a feral animal as soon as they saw that I was alone, driven mad to a varying degree by the blood I usually smear all over myself to draw them in. This one just observed and followed me home quietly, and if I'd been more naive I might have thought that he'd wanted to talk. The male had walked right up to me on my front porch, holding both hands in the air as if to say he'd come in peace and simply wanted a word. It just so happens that I'm the kind of girl who shoots first, talk later, which resulted in me having to stab him with an injector full of Wolfsbane to get him to stop choking me to death some time afterward. Even then, it took three more bullets and a bunch of cuts from my dagger to weaken him enough for me to get him tied up and drag him over to the attic. I've never had to use both Wolfsbane and silver bullets to bring down a vampire, and I try not to. The herb makes them bleed all over the place when you shoot them because their blood won't clot and the wounds won't close as usual, and cleaning up blood was a chore I hate with a passion.

That's another strange thing about this one. His wounds aren't burning as badly as the others by the silver I've attacked him with - not before I'd stabbed him with the injector. For some reason, he seems immune to it, and without the Wolfsbane in his blood, I doubt that I can keep him tied up for long. Which reminds me, that I should go down to the kitchen to grab another injector from the fridge on my next visit, just in case it wears out.

In the center of the room is where left my male vampire, strung from the ceiling with silver chains around both wrists and secured to the floor with a pair of silver cuffs around his ankles. I step around the pool of blood that has advanced all the way to the center of the room during the time I was gone to clean myself up and eat my dinner. From the looks of it, he should be running out of blood soon. Good, I think. He will be ready to talk and tell me things I need to know. Or at least beg for mercy if he knows nothing. I do, however, need to find out why he's not affected by the silver like the others, and if there are more like him out there. It's the first time in three years since a vampire had given me so many bruises and a broken lip as a souvenir, and I'm going to wake up with a bad cramp on my neck for that punch he'd slammed on the right side of my face. Fortunately, I did manage to pay him back a bit more than he's given me, but that doesn't mean I'd be so lucky every time a vampire like this comes along.

I stop a little to his left where the polyurethane floor is still clean and check on my weapons. The shotgun strapped to my back has been reloaded, so is the Glock on my thigh. They're filled with silver bullets, of course. That part of the tale is at least true with vampires, and it works even on this particular one after he's been well-drugged. I wonder if it adds to their arrogance that they're not just difficult but also expensive to kill.

"So," I say, "how does it feel to be hunted down by the rabbit for once?" I hope it stings real bad. I really do.

The ashen hair male snarls at me, his long, sharp fangs flashing white despite the blood on his lips. "I'm going kill you and kill you slow for this, woman, and then I'm going to-"

I shoot him twice in the leg with my Glock before he could finish that sentence, and he rewards me with a growl that sounds like music to my ears. I don't need to hear the rest of what he has to say. I know exactly what he wants to do with me. I've witnessed it when I was ten. "I'll come back when you're done living with that fantasy," I say, turning back to where I came from. I could have stayed and tortured him some more for the information I need - or even for the fun of it - but I've done this enough times to not waste my strength or my bullets on a vampire that's not ready to talk. "Make some noise when you're ready to answer my questions," I tell him before closing the door and heading back downstairs to the kitchen. I need a few drinks to pass the night and to stay awake. I always need a few drinks to pass any night, to be honest.

The kitchen light is on, just as I left it. For the past ten years, I've taken on a habit of leaving the lights on in every room at night. Call it paranoia or whatever mental problem you think you're qualified to label me with, but the last time I didn't light up my whole house like a fucking Christmas tree strung with more UV lights than you can buy at a hardware store, three vampires were in my house having a feast on my family. I can be suicidal on a hunt sometimes, but I don't intend to die being taken by surprise by one of these bloodsucking animals.

I pause at the bottom of the stairs to peek into the kitchen, my hand moves to check on my weapons again before I enter by habit. The room is empty, as it should be - as it has been for the past ten years. A part of me wants to sigh in relief, the other, more disturbing side of me is a bit disappointed. Maybe I'm just bored. Or maybe I just want to find an intruder or a vampire sitting there so I can keep myself busy trying to kill something or survive someone.

So I wouldn't notice all the space that should be filled.

I close my eyes and release a breath I've been unconsciously holding, reaching absentmindedly for a bottle of wine in the refrigerator. There're only two left, which reminds me I have to go into town to get more. My mood turns sour at that thought. I hate going to town, but then I hate having to deal with the delivery boy even more.

And then I hear it, the sound of someone - something - moving behind me.

"I'd be delighted for a glass or two if you don't mind."

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A/N: This chapter has been altered and edited, split into two to make it shorter and easier to read. I've put a lot through the washing machine, and hopefully, the rubbish is all gone. Please let me know if you catch anything that bugs you. Any comment is welcomed and a vote would be highly appreciated. :)