Chapter One: The Beginning of The End Nathalia *** In the beginning, it wasnt obvious what was happening.

Yeah, the universal fatality count had increased by about 83%, but no-one really thought to much about it, you know? Death...and murder...they were just an unavoidable consequence of life. And the fact that more and more were dying everyday...we were all disgusted, horrified, sickened, by it, but that was about it. Throats torn out, lacerations, pictures of bloody and gruesome deaths became the feature of every nightly news show. But no-one ever expected this to happen. Why would they? These werent animal attacks, and while they didnt seem like something a human would do...it wasnt entirely out of the realm of possibility. And there are sick, sick people out there. Psychopathic murderers, rapists, druggies and gangs. We didnt question it, didnt think these worldwide murders were anything but something to make us disgusted, because, to us, no matter how subconsciously we thought it, in our minds, humans were the biggest monsters out there. The ones on top of the food chain. The ones calling all the shots. The ones with the biggest brains, intelligence, and foresight the ones who could plan out a death like a game of cat and mouse, because we were the superior race. The hunters, the predators. Oh, how wrong we were. I was only eleven when it first began. I wasnt interested in hearing about how over half the worlds population had been brutally murdered and the human race was slowly dying out I was a kid! Those were adult problems, for adults to worry about. I had nothing to worry about except avoiding detention or so I thought. Two years later, and I had just celebrated my thirteenth birthday. Things were getting dire now, and I was old enough to feel the gravity of the situation. Over the past 32 months, the world wide human population had gone down from around 8 billion to roughly 13 million. We were going extinct. My parents began to stop me from going to school. They were scared the slashers that was what everyone called the killers, because they slashed open peoples skin and throats would get me, even though our town, Woodlake, hadnt been affected by them yet. We were one of the few places left on the planet that was considered safe. But I could tell, nowhere was safe. The few times I walked to school, I could feel the eyes of every male from the age range of about fourteen to fifty or so watching me. Our numbers were dropping, and it was females getting killed more often than males. As the fate of our species hung in the balance, we werent people, we were incubators, and it wasnt rape, it was survival. Three months before my fourteenth birthday, there was roughly about 15 million people left alive on the planet. But over half of those were teens or children; adults were a dwindling race. Make it to over twenty-five, and you were hella ancient. Woodlake still hadnt been affected at least, not by the slashers. Plenty of migrants and immigrants had rocked up to our town in an attempt to stay safe, and they were draining us of

our precious reserves water never ran out, but food became a precious and rare commodity. Even as this happened, we continued to take in more and more people whom we couldnt afford to feed, water or clothe, because we had to remind ourselves of the fact that we were human. That, unlike those people, those monsters, we still had souls, some tiny shreds of compassion left inside us. Six months after my fourteenth birthday, in the middle of the night, twenty-eight black sedans rolled into Woodlake. This was such a rare sight these days, most of the town came out to see. My parents did, but I stayed home, hidden. The drivers of the vehicles climbed out of their cars... ...and they open fired on the crowd who had come to welcome them. There were no survivors. Even in my house, a fair distance away, I could hear the booming of the shots, the finality of the silence they left in their wake. I eventually scrounged up the energy to walk down to the square. When I arrived, I saw that nearly three hundred other people had had the same idea as me. Uneasily, I wondered if this was all the people left in Woodlake. Numb, as if I was walking in a dream, I waded my way through the crowds of the dead. I didnt look down. I dont know if I passed by, or stepped over, my parents, my neighbours, my friends. They were simply bodies to me. The people I had cared about who had once existed in those bodies were gone. The dead could not come back; I had lost my loved ones. A commotion drew my attention, and I turned towards it. A blonde woman was rising above the crowd, and I couldnt tear my eyes away from her. She wasnt beautiful, per se, but she was striking. Unearthly. Unreal. Unbelievable. Her jaggedly cut blonde hair fell as straight as a ruler until her shoulders. Her skin was even paler then her platinum white hair. I could tell her eyes even from the far away distance I was at were deep, dark wellsprings of ancient power and cool cunning, endless pools of cruelty, determination, strength. Im sorry if we scared you, she called out projecting her voice to the crowd. It was deep and growly, like what a bear would sound like if it could talk. I realised she was still talking, and focused, to listen. I feel I have to inform you: you are stuck in the middle of a game you did not ask to become players in. But you have. And this isnt the sort of game you can just walk away from. She paused, and narrowed her gaze at us, as if to make sure we were all paying attention. To walk away from this game means to die. She raised her voice to a shout. DO YOU WANT TO DIE? No-one answered, but the silence spoke volumes, and those volumes screamed no. You are all playing for the wrong team! Your humanity is what you have clung to and it is what is going to get you killed! If you wish to live, renounce your humanity and join us. We will save you. No, I thought, reaching for the silver cross that hung around my neck. You will damn us. Trying to keep my movements as slow as possible, and keeping my attention focused solely on the demoness in front of me, I yanked on the chain that kept the symbol of my faith

around my throat. At first, it cut painfully into my skin, but then I felt it give. With a faint metallic snap, the cross fell into my palm. I enclosed my fist around it tightly, and I felt cut into the flesh of my palm enough that it broke the skin, and warm, red liquid began to seep through my fingers in slow, oozing rivulets. The blonde haired demons eyes snapped to me. She smiled a feral smile, and I could see sharp points that protruded from her mouth glistening in the moonlight. Fangs. I prepared to bolt. She shook her head at me. I felt arms grab me roughly around the waist, and I was suddenly positioned in front of blonde demon woman. She laughed. Im not a demon, Im a vampire, she informed me. I froze. So, they can read minds. I filed that piece of info away for later. No, not always. Until a moment ago, your mind was closed to me, but you removed that vile object from your neck... she curled her lip up. And now youre an open book. She bent her knees so she could position her face closer to mine. Tell me, open book, do you have a name? Nathalia, I spat out, against my will by the way. Another nugget of information to store away for later. Your cross could have protected you from that, too, the vampire said. But you neednt strain your brain trying to remember all this stuff for later. She inserted quote marks around my words. Let me guess. Because there isnt going to be a later? Well, Nathalia, that all depends on you. Like I said, youll have to pick a side. So, whatll it be? Your humanity, and your death, or your life And the loss of my soul, I finished for her scathingly. Blondie shrugged. If that is really how you feel... she smiled wickedly. Then I suppose Id better tell you that my name is Sovereign. I raised an eyebrow. You want to exchange pleasantries before you kill me? Only one out of two, Im afraid, she said. I am most certainly going to kill you. I only told you my name however, because I want you to know who it was that killed you. In that case, I hope you know that Im going to haunt your ass off, I informed her. She hissed and bared her fangs in response. She leapt for me, her fang teeth deadly blades heading straight for my throat at breakneck speed. That pun was a complete coincidence. Just as she reached me, I flung my hands up, making it look like I just wanted to protect my neck. Falling for it, Sovereign continued towards my jugular without halting her path. I could feel her lips just brushing against my neck, and the points of her fangs pressing against my flesh. Now, I thought, and pushed my hands upwards, so that they made contact with Sovereigns face. She pulled back, screaming. Everyone froze, even all of her vampire goonies. No-one seemed quite sure of how to react,

or what the hell Id done. My cross? Sovereign had obviously forgotten about it. The chains had burnt two lines across her face one travelled over the bridge of her nose and along her cheekbones, the other one traced her jaw line, and the actual cross had branded deeply into her left eye. You little bitch! she screeched, and lunged for me, but I had already moved. I ducked under her lunging body, and reached my arms up, arching my body backwards in concordance with hers, closing my hands into fist around the chain of my cross, yanking it off of her face. When I straightened up and inspected my cross, I saw that crispy bits of skin clung to the skin. I grimaced and forced bile down. Was it the silver or the cross that burned her? I wondered. As vampires of various races, ages and genders headed towards me, Sovereign screamed out, Be careful! The bitch has silver! Guess that answers my question, sort of. Nathalia! a male voice drew my attention away from the murderous vampires heading my way. I shifted my gaze slightly and saw Tristan De Lorentis waving his arms around like a mad man. Run my way, Ill get you out of here, he mouthed, or at least thats what it looked like he mouthed. I nodded. I didnt really know Tristan except as a face and a name, but I was low on both options and allies. No way was I about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I didnt bother to wait, or try to distract the vampires. I just ran. I didnt care who I hit, didnt care who I knocked down. All that mattered was getting to Tristan. I finally was within arms reach of him, and I reached out for him. He reached out for me. The moment our fingers touched, we were gone. Vanished. Not there anymore. Safe. Where are we? I questioned. It doesnt really have a name. We just call it Haven, Tristan answered. We? I asked. Oh, sure. There are people from all around the world here. Theres a Cherokee couple with a little girl, a father, mother, grandmother and baby girl from Canada, an twenty something year old girl and her two year old brother from Australia, an entire family from London...all in all, theres about three thousand people here from all corners of the globe. What are they doing here? I asked, bewildered. Isnt it obvious? Tristan said. Theyre here to fight.

SIXTEEN YEARS LATER Amelia *** A bead of rolled down my forehead and along my nose. I reached up and wiped it off. Careful! my father yelled at me.

I am! I yelled back, focusing intently on the molten silver in front of me as I poured it into its mould. Hows it look? I asked, glancing over at my father. He made his way over to me. Once he reached me, he squinted down at the crosses I had just made. The forge was in the basement weird, I know. But silver was precious and vamps couldnt go underground for some reason. We lived in a big country manor that once upon a time had a name but that we just called Haven. It was pretty, made of sandstone, and the gardens were to die for (not literally because I dont want to die, let alone for a garden), it was circumnavigated by a fence covered with ivy, which kept the vamps out, and it was mostly in good condition, except for the basement. The basement was dark, dank, and it smelled funky, though that couldve been because of the makeshift forge set up in its residence. Anyway, you could tell it used to be a really pretty room (for one that was underground). Peeling fleur de lis patterned wallpaper was plastered to the wall, and before we had arrived, there had been some really nice leather lounges and a bookcase spread artfully around; they were now spread haphazardly around the library upstairs (yes, we have our own library. Dont get excited, most of these books are more ancient then some master vamps). One of the one things wed kept that had been here before was the fireplace, and Nat De Lorentis had bashed the edges away to make it wider for metal smelting years ago. My dad said it had been covered with intricately carved curves, and that it had reminded him of the ocean. That comparison hadnt helped me much. Ive never seen the ocean. My father grunted. Good job, sweetie, he said. Thesell do nicely. I squirmed, and my face blazed hotter than the forge fire. I didnt mind it when my dad called me that. It was his pet name for me. If anyone else called me that, however, it was an insult and Id kill em. Loud bangs, like footsteps, made their way down to us, and we both tensed, silver at the ready. Yes, we forgot for a moment that vamps cant come downstairs. Instinct, okay? Isobel Hunter, Katrinas call her Kat or shell kill you mother came rushing down the stairs. Theyre back, she sang, a grin plastered on her face. I jumped so high in excitement I knocked over the hammer. I winced, expecting a rebuke from my dad, but he just shook his head at me and sighed. Calm down, eh? Isobel said, still grinning. I heard an eh, my dad said. Isobels grin vanished and she shot my dad a look. Not in the mood to argue Canadian stereotypes, she warned. I stopped bouncing. Isobel was always in the mood to argue Canadian stereotypes. Whats wrong? I questioned. She sighed. Theyre coming back early, Amelia, she said. Ice crept into my veins. Theyd only come back early for one reason... Whos injured? Isobel winced. Ames, she began. WHOS INJURED? Andrew, she whispered.

Amelia! my dad called. But I was already gone. As I reached the sunlit floor of the first level of the house, I slowed, and put my hand on my hip, ready to pull out my silver coated dagger at any moment. As I passed a wall made entirely out of windows, I paused for a sec, and checked out my reflection. Yeah, I know Isobel said Andrew was injured, but she never said how badly, and if it was just a broken ankle or something, Id kill myself for looking all scrappy and...forgey. My mahogany hair was a sweaty, sooty mess, and I attempted to tame it somewhat. Attempted being the key word there. My chestnut brown eyes were something I couldnt change, but I wished I could change the bags underneath them. Goddammit I need more sleep. My clothes and the tanned, olive toned skin of my face were covered in sweat splotches and streaks of soot and charcoal. My lips were cracked, dry and peeling. I spent a few more minutes standing there, knowing I couldnt do much to better my appearance, before finally admitting that I was stalling. I steeled myself and headed for the garage. The interior of the manor was gorgeous, windows and gold leaf and fancy chandeliers and antique furniture and candelabras and fleur de lis everywhere, but today the beauty seemed caught somewhere between mocking and menacing. All this extravagance was laughing at me. If An was hurt really really badly, like badly enough that he couldnt survive... ...I think Id die too, in the beauty of this aged and lovely mansion. Andrew was twenty one, four years older than me, but that age difference was nothing. He and his family were from London. We had always been friends, but in the past two years, since my fifteenth birthday, things had changed. There was an electric charge between us now. Our parents werent as opposed to this as they wouldve been once upon a time, apparently. But humans were an endangered species now, and I along with the other girls my age, Kat and Leslie were expected to shack up and have children as soon as possible for the sake of our race. It is your duty, or at least thats what Tristan and Nat De Lorentis say. So, Id chosen An. Luckily, hed chosen me, too. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I didnt realise when I rocked up to the doors of the garage. Full of trepidation, I pushed the doors open, and gasped. A gory sight met my eyes. Blood was all over the seats and open door of the white Nissan 4WD we had, and was pooling around the floor where Andrew lay. And the blood was spilling from a bite mark. ***

Chapter Three: Katrina

*** I tried to block Leslies sobs out as I turned on the warm tap and filled up the basin. Once it was filled, I dipped her hands into it. The water immediately turned pink, then red. Hey, I said, trying to be comforting as her sobs grew louder. An will be okay. I smiled at her tightly. Hes my big brother, Les whispered. I know we argue a lot, but I really love him, and right now, Im not facing the prospect of his death, which would be bad enough. She hiccupped. He isnt dying, hes...turning. And I know my brother well enough to know that hed rather die than become one of them. I pushed my dark blonde hair out of my face, trying to ignore how some of it had been stained a dark russet red with Andrews blood. I knelt down to Leslies level and tilted her chin up so her green eyes met my blue ones. She swallowed hard and pushed her layered auburn hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears. Hakuna Matata, I told her. She looked thrown. Um, what? she asked. Hakuna Matata, I repeated. It means no worries. What language is that in? African? Er...maybe. Im not entirely sure. I think its just Disney language. Her confused look turned into a glare. Youre quoting old movies at me now? I mean, seriously, my parents watched that as kids. I shrugged. Theyre oldies but theyre goodies. She laughed, then sobered up. Do you really think An is going to be okay? Damn straight, I reassured her. Les wiped her left over tears away, grimacing when she saw that shed just wiped her brothers blood off of her face. I think... I think Im ready to go back out now. I nodded and pulled her to her feet. Seeing Andrew laying immobile on the floor was even worse the second time, which shocked me, because I knew what to expect. Ans normally tanned skin wasnt pale, it was sallow and he looked like he was made of wax. His dark blonde hair was plastered to his scalp with sweat. His eyelids flickered over his brown eyes, and his limbs twitched spastically. Moans escaped his ravaged throat. The gory wound on the side of his neck was totally projectile vomit worthy. I could feel the bile rising up my throat just from looking at it. The skin that was left on his throat was peeled back, revealing way more of the human anatomy than I ever wanted revealed to me. The rest of his skin had obviously been torn of by the vamps...teeth. Ew. Is he going to be okay? I asked before I could help myself. Oliver, Leslie and Andrews little brother, shot me a dirty look that said are you freaking kidding me? Ollies boyfriend, Harley, put an arm around him and gave me an identical stare. No, I dont think he is, Nat De Lorentis said. I turned to her, opening my mouth to protest as I felt Leslie tremble against me and saw

Amelia burst into a fresh round of sobs. She cut me off and knelt beside Andrew. Come look at this bite, here, Kat, she said. I inched closer towards her warily, and looked down. The bite didnt look any better close up then it did further away. In fact, I think it looked worse, which wasnt really that big of a shocker. See the way the flesh has been completely torn? Most vampire bites dont look like that. Nat gestured in a semicircular motion at the top half of his neck, the part just beneath his jaw. Mostly, vampires go for this region, with their top fangs, and the resulting bite is usually much neater. I tilted my head to the side. So, this vamp unsheathed his bottom fangs. Big deal. Weve all been bitten before, why is this bite any different? Is it because its a bigger wound? So what, we can still heal him, or at least try! I finished passionately. Because the bottom fangs are what make all the difference! Nat cried, her grey-green eyes flashing in anger as she impatiently shoved her thick black curls out of her heart shaped face. When you were bitten, it was with the top fangs, which are basically two solid needles. Meant for piercing deep into flesh, nothing else. Bottom fangs, however, are much bigger, and theyre hollow. When they pierce into flesh, they inject a toxin that ravages the body. To fight back, the body releases an anti-toxin. The catalyst of these two chemicals causes the body to enter a transformative state of coma, she finished soberly, having calmed down. Her eyes were sad. Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, I whispered. Dont worry, he wont grow a cocoon around himself, Nat said in a weak attempt at comforting humour. Well, there still has to be some way to save him. We cant just give up! Amelia yelled. She looked horrible. Her face and I do mean her entire face, not just her eyes was completely red and puffy from crying. Her tears tracks had made the soot that covered her face from working in the forge run down her cheeks in big, black streaks. Nat turned away from me; towards Amelia. I understood that I had just been dismissed. There is no way to save him, Amelia. At least, not his life. Right now, as of this moment, the only part of Andrew we can hope to save is his soul. She said, still channelling a sad and wise Yoda (yes, my parents are dorks. Oldies but goodies, people!). If you truly love Andrew, youll let him have the dignity of dying human, Nat concluded. And then she held up an elaborately carved stake that I myself had dipped into silver, and said, Prove your love. Drive this stake through his heart. Amelia gaped at Nathalia, before shaking her head rapidly back and forth no. Nat shrugged. Fine. Ill do it. And then she raised the stake above her head, muscles tensing as she prepared to bring it down with enough strength to cut through bone and muscle and sinew and skin, with enough strength to obliterate Andrews heart. No! Leslie cried, moving out from beside me and throwing herself over her brother. No! Les! I yelled in exasperation. Get off of him before you get staked! Nat just snorted and re-sheathed her stake. As if Im going to hurt her. Us humans are a dying breed, you know, she said in a tone that sounded sarcastic but I wasnt one hundred percent sure about. She surveyed us Amelia, Leslie, Harley, Oliver, and I and said, So what do you propose

we do, then? Obviously you wont allow me to kill him. An idea and hope sparked within me. I propose we find a cure. Everyone looked at me like I was insane, and then Nathalia actually started laughing, a full out belly laugh. After about two minutes of her cackling like a mad witch, she stopped. Ouch. Ive got a stitch in my side, she said, still almost choking on her faint laughter. Thanks, Kat, I really needed that. When I didnt say anything, she looked at me. Oh, my god. You were being serious! She started laughing again, only this time her laughter was interspersed with comments that went something along the lines of ouch, stitch ouch that hurts ouch, ouch, ouch. I glared at her bent over, laughing form. It wasnt that funny. Kat. Oh, Kat, she finally gasped out. There is no cure. Well how do you know that? Have you ever looked for one? Nat quietened, and stared me up and down appraisingly. No. Then how do you know? I insisted. I just do, Kat, she told me icily. Drop it. Her eyes pleaded with me to listen to her. An epiphany hit me. You know something youre not saying! I yelped. You know something about a cure! Everyones eyes swivelled to her. Nathalia De Lorentis scowled at me. Shut up, Kat, and drop it. Leslie blinked her eyes dry, forcing tears out of her eyes. Nat? Is Kat right? Do you know something about a cure? her voice wobbled, and I think that was what made Nathalia cave. She sighed. Yes, I do. But Im begging you, please dont pursue this. Why not? I grumbled. Her eyes met mine steadily. Because to get it would be a suicide mission. Okay, fine, whatever, I said. You dont want to talk about it. But, please, just give us a clue. You know; a nudge in the right direction. Please. She wavered. I gave her the puppy dog eyes. Fine. Heres your clue: Woodlake. Now, leave me the hell alone. What about my brother? Les whimpered. Yeah, what about our brother? Oliver asked. Ollie looked like a mini version of Andrew except he had vivid, flaming, red hair. Harley rubbed his hand up and down Ollies arm comfortingly. Harley was body-builder muscled, he had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a tan. I promise not to kill him while you rush off on your foolhardy quest, Nat said in monotone. Well, where are we going to put him? We cant leave him on the garage floor, I said in a duh tone of voice. I reconsidered. Well, I suppose we could, but thatd be sort of mean. Everyone except Nat glared at me; and she just rolled her eyes. Ill put him up in the basement, she said. But what about the forge! Amelia protested. Trust me Amelia, the basement is the best place for him. If he turns, as long as hes down there, being underground will keep him immobile and comatose, which means he wont try to feed off of any of us, which means none of us will have any reasons to kill him. And well just move the forge to the greenhouse. Her gaze roved over us. Im only allowing four of you to go two girls and two boys. Anymore than that is risky. Ill have some supplies packed for you to be ready by morning,

she began to walk away before turning back. Good luck. We all sat-slash-stood silently for a minute. So, I said. Which four of us are going? ***