Even when the world seemed to open up to me, where I can find my real self in, but I guess fate still hates me as that open door shuts and locks once again. Its feels as though I'm in a box. No space and no track of time, but when the box opens, I can't even move a muscle. An opening to a new world, but can decide either to move or stay, and the choice is totally up to you.

That's how it felt like for me back then. And how a whole new world of power and secrecy developed and unfolded itself in front of me. In me. That's when I chose to do neither of the two options, and to become my own person instead.

Well, to be really general, I'm half of Zhivago, or so they describe me as. I can't really feel how I ended up being and looking like Zhivago -in a way- and ended up having his raging fire in my heart, but the other half of me is totally different.

I was picked up from Dref Dur by Gino and Edmund, my saviour and my mentor.

We went to Deiner Cri to refuel The Overseers ship. Deiner Cri is where Brennivin gladly gave my hair a dark brown hair-dye color and trimmed my hair and gave me "eye covering" bangs. I'm glad that he did that, because I didn't have to worry about my hair turning silver from the tips up or for anyone to see my face which I'm way too self-conscious about for anyone's comfort.

We went down to Durem. Edmund made Gino and I stay at his place so he can prepare for Johnny Gambino's funeral and helped everyone with his will request and fundamentals.

While he was gone, I sat in his living room, talking to Gino and Louie, while my hair was chipping the dye off inch by inch. I always pulled my hood up, even when I'm inside a house.

Louie is the King of Vampires. He looks like he is probably in his early twenties, but who knows how long someone has lived when you know they're a vampire. And plus, when Edmund told me that he is the King of Vampires, at first, he looked as though he was too tuned up for that kind of thing, but he looks like he manages pretty well.

When Gino left to the washroom in the shop, my silver hair was mere inches away from my scalp. I uncovered my hood, charged over to Louie, slammed my hand down and grabbed a lock of my hair with the other, looked Louie in the eyes and said, "What the hell is going on with me?"

Louie would obviously be surprised by the outburst, but he managed to look at my hair and eyes and everything else and analyzed everything with that calmly.

"Did you drink that Vampire stuff that Natasha sells?" He questions.

I resist rolling my eyes, not knowing of this Natasha girl, or Vampire stuff she sells, I reply, "No, I haven't. For the record, I was bitten." I couldn't stop myself from making it sound like was snapping at him. The thought of Zhivago made me pissed and I just got more frustrated for not having the answers sooner.

"By who?" Louie supported his head on his hands and elbows on the desk, eyes curious if I'm lying or not.

I glanced behind me, to see if Gino returned yet, which he didn't, so I looked back at him. "Keep this only between us, okay?"

Louie nodded, still curious.

I sighed, and looked him back in the eyes and whispered, "I was bitten by Zhivago."

Louie's own grey eyes went wide after that. He dropped his hands, and whispered loudly, "Zhivago?"

I could only nod.

"How? He would've had to have shared his blood with you, somehow…" Louie was lost for words.

"I don't know how…" I spoke quietly, "… but I can see, feel, think, and hear everything he sees, feels, thinks, and hears."

His eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his skull. "How…" He glanced from paper the paper on his messy desk in the back of the shop, "… in the world."

"And to add to it…" I irritatingly added, "My hair is turning silver by the freakin minute, and my eyes are turning grey just as fast. I don't know what to do, and it was Edmund's idea for me to talk to you."

He looks back up, "I have never, in my life, have heard such a thing happen between a vampire and a human. I have absolutely no idea what I can do about it," He looks at this picture on his desk of him and this one raven-haired guy hanging out and looking like they were having a good time. "You could ask Edmund to do the treatment thing he had going on with my brother? If that helps anything."

I stood, shocked. They actually had treatments here to fight Vampirism?

"Oh yeah…" I shadowed my eyes, away from Louie, "I forgot to mention that he doesn't know that he can control what I say."

He had to hold his jaw in place before it dropped. I continued, "and it's just as bad when I met him for the second time that he didn't want to be interrupted in trying to kill Gino. I tried, but I was in so much pain I can't remember much."

"You-" He stood up, ready to remark something probably optimistic, but I didn't want him to. I just fabricated a plan that will help everyone, in which I am indebted to for saving me and helping me get this far.

"No." I held my hand up. He scrunched his eyebrows in irritation from being disrupted, but I didn't care. "I'm not going to take that treatment thing you mentioned that your brother took. I'm not going to take in anything else other than the fact that I can't stop it from happening to me. I'm going to fight it…" With that I looked him straight into the eyes again, really close, "And I'm going to fight him the next time he decides to show his scarred face to Gino."

Louie looked clearly surprised at my bold declaration, but the look in his eyes said that it will not be easy.

But in that little conversation, I swore to protect Gino for what he has done for me and that I owe him that much.

When Edmund came back, Louie saved me the trouble of me having to talk to Edmund myself and spoke to him. Louie, for putting up with my unsettled manners, I owe him something. When he needs it, I'll be there for him, too. But right now, Gino needs me.

I randomly gasped.

I just remembered that in that conversation, Zhivago hasn't decided to stop me from talking.

I'm not going to say thank you to you Zhivago, I thought, I'm thanking God for this one.

Edmund walked in, shortly after Louie pulled him to the back of the shop, and stood in front of me.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Edmund asked, sounding taken aback by my gesture.

I nodded, not thinking about it twice.

Tumbling down the stairs, Gino scratched the back of his head, "Sorry about that, toilet wouldn't flush-" He glanced back and forth from somewhat imaginary options, "-For some reason…"

He covered it with a cheeky smile and plopped down on the loveseat beside the showcase window. "So," He quickly gabbed a neatly wrapped peppermint out of the jar on top of the coffee table, "Whats happening?" He tossed the peppermint into his mouth before nonchalantly tossing the wrapper in the garbage can as he sat himself down again.

"Ruby decided that she will-" he looked at me, eyes asking if he should tell Gino. For his safety, I sneakily shook me head. "-Be staying with you at the Mansion after the funeral."

Gino, who I thought would be sad, but wasn't, he nodded his head in agreement.

That night, given a guest room, I sat at the window staring at the sky with adoration, feeling its freeness in only an unfamiliar person can feel so much of nowadays.

I tried to keep my mind blank, I tried even harder to keep Zhivago out of my mind.

With the Funeral on its way and Gino being so close to home, I might as well utilize the only tool that I am capable of having that is a pinch of a head start to me.

I shut my eyes and concentrated hard on Zhivago. What he looked like, what his voice sounded like, everything that I seen of him, and eventually, I got a hold of him.

As a flock of bats, he floated to the roof of the Gambino Mansion and transformed into his real self.

Easy as cake, he thought.

He landed on top of the mansion, keeping an eye out for any unsuspecting clues of Gino's whereabouts.

He took the time to glance at the courtyard.

There were rows and rows and rows of black chairs, hundreds, even, but the on table that will hold the Gambino titan, lengths with Stargazer lilies and red carnations, representing his ambition and his leadership.

Though his coffin was not up on that table yet, I felt Zhivago shiver with success. Tense with it. Relax in the feeling of what felt like fire. He was content in his success.

I literally felt like puking there on the spot, but no. I had to keep focusing.

Zhivago grunted in displeasure at such a scene, and shook his head and looked back at the sky and disappeared into shadows and bats.

The next day, I look at the floor in front of my door and I bump into something there.

It had a note on it by Gino.

Just thought that you might be getting tired

Of that brown thing you always keep on top of your head,

So Edmund let me get you a new one!

See you soon- Gino

I smiled.

He has already done this two times already, and it's getting pretty amusing, and it was cute.

I shoved the note in my pocket and picked up the thing he left behind.

As I rolled it open, my jaw dropped and went bungee jumping straight to hell.

Looking just about the same as my brown cloak, this one has corseted flowers across the hood and the cape I just needed to try it on NOW.

I dropped the cloak over my head, popped my hood up, and fixed my hair around it and BAM. Brand new cloak on a brand new girl.

Or, more like brand new DEVESTATED girl, if I must.

I went to the bathroom and looked into the mirror.

Complete silver hair, stretching down to my chest, and silver, piercing eyes to go with it.

I'm sure that Gino and everybody that has seen me, before, might notice that I look like a total different person.

I still have my small nose I always had, my strong jaw, my small mouth, and lips that look dry as a desert, but that's it. My eyes are different, and my hair is silver to the very core, and my skin is disgustingly pale, I bet my bones would blend in well .

I might try to dye it in the future, but I know it will only last a few days. Like when Brennivin dyed it.

I look at myself and I shiver. Ugh…

I casually walked down the stairs and to the back of the shop, where the dining room, bathroom, rooms, anything you needed for living was. Edmund frequently sipped his tea as he critically scanned the newspaper at the granite island in the kitchen; god only knows what the hell he's looking for. Louie sat in black boxers and a black tea shirt in front of a flat screen TV, feet on the coffee table and his back on the seat, flipping through channels that were flooded with Johnny Gambino's death and his funeral, and he just downed a bag of blood, not giving a shit. And Gino splayed himself over a couch, shaking his head occasionally after he sees several news stations, featuring his father's death. He wore a plain white T-shirt with blue boxers, and straight up poker face to go along with it.

I have never seen such an ordinary scene in my entire life.

I sat down and a random plate of food dropped down in front of me.

I looked up and Edmund pulled his arm away casually. "You're going to need it."

I couldn't do anything then to look back at my plate and grab the fork and dig in.

After I ate, I wiped my mouth with a napkin and said, "Thanks. It was pretty good."

I looked at Edmund to see his response. He was right back at the newspaper, critically eyeing the paper as if something will pop out of it.

I resisted a sigh as I got up and brought my empty plate to the sink.

After the plate was covered in water in the kitchen sink, I walked over the living area to see what in the world Louie and Gino were watching. I was surprised to see that they finally stopped at "Gaia 9 News" and watched what went on.

"Reporting in front of the Gambino Mansion, we stand outside, waiting to see if Gino Gambino will show up to his father's funeral. The funeral will take place in an hour. Please stand by." The girl reported, the camera catching the funeral flowers on top of the table that will hold Mr. Gambino's body, and the sea of chairs surrounding the entire table. Any more chairs, they would engulf the entire Mansion.

At the funeral, Edmund and Gino went into the Mansions back doors. They didn't want to seem too open, for Zhivago might be around, but is highly unlikely, but to be best on the safe side. Louie informed me about how his brother was shot right out in the open. Except Ian was a vampire, so he didn't die, whereas Gino is human, so there zero chance of Gino surviving it.

And now I'm a vampire. Or half- I dunno.

I wonder if I'll grow fangs as big a Zhivago's. I shivered. Ugh, no, no no no no.

Just picturing me having fangs is like the nightmare life in a simplistic limbo after your dead. It just doesn't go together, but it is possible.

"Hey!" Louie shouted, waving his arm up in the air at someone.

I looked over and I seen that raven haired guy from the picture on Louie's desk and he waved back, jogging up with a smile, but his eyes shown his true emotion. He was sad for Mr. Gambino's death.

"Hey," The guy stopped in front of us, "What's up?" His eyes dropped on me and then back to Louie.

"Just bringing Ruby to her chair, how about you?" Louie shrugged his shoulders and walked with the guy. His head turned to me, "Oh yeah," He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me over from behind his tracks and showed me to his brother, "This is Ruby. Ruby, this is Ian, my brother." He pointed to him as if I knew nothing in between solid to liquid. I shrugged and went ahead of them, trying to find the farthest seat away from the front.

I think I might try to tap into Zhivago's thoughts again, so I need quiet. Everybody here needs it.

As Louie and Ian found their own chairs a few rows in front of me, babbling on with random talk I didn't even want to listen to.

Way at the corner of the courtyard, a lone black chair invited me to sit in it. I greedily sat myself down.

Zoning out, I pretended to seem like I'm checking my nails, trying to keep that position as I crept closer to Zhivago.

I immediately lost all sight from myself and went to what Zhivago was seeing.

He zipped through the air. No one noticed him as his bat-self floated through the air at a quick speed. No one even noticed as he landed quietly at the back of the mansion. No one noticed as he closed the back door behind him.

``Gino, you have to wear it, for your father`s sake!`` Edmund persisted stubbornly at the top of the stairs in the big dressing room built for Gino`s father.

`No! I`m sick and tired of being treated like my father`s doll. Even after death, it feels like he`s still here.`` Gino persisted back angrily.

`Gino…` Edmund kept.

Gino harrumphed and crossed his arms and looked at the mirror across the room.

I went back to focusing on Zhivago as he stood by, waiting for the right moment when Edmund left that room.

Edmund didn`t leave.

I expect Zhivago to hide when someone walks in the back door.

I zeroed out of Zhivago and jumped out of my seat. The crowd was humongous. A sea of people. Some people even had to stand around the crowd to get a good look at the set up. It smelled like sweat and straight up stress, ugh. The scattered rocks and chips in the courtyards tile felt really uncomfortable under my shoes. The whole place, at one minute, were all talking, catching up, crying, fainting, anything that makes noise, and the next, it grows dead silent. Making my ears ring, I ran around the crowd and tried to find my way to the back door again.

I ran. I didn`t care if someone stole my chair. I don`t care if someone seen me out of the entire crowd and decides to follow me obliviously. It only takes one witness of an entire scene to report in the truth.

Five yards away from the back door, my chest starts to shake. Not with fear, but it feels like my Vampire self is either afraid of its creator, or that it`s waiting to be with its creator once again.

Either way, I had to stop and take slow, deep breaths, clutching the neckpiece of my new cloak.

I had to do this. I swore to.

So I finished walking to the door and opened it, As if I have every right to be there. As if I didn`t know anything about Zhivago.

I was partially captivated by the bright chandelier in the middle of the entire mansion. Reminded me sort of like Brennivin`s ship. The floor was like gold. Chestnut stairwells wrapped the room.

There`s a little look out on top of me, where Gino and Edmund were.

So lack of light at the back door gives off lots of shadow, giving the perfect hiding place for someone who is and expert of hiding in darkness.

I closed the door behind me, turning to close it carefully and easily catching Zhivago at the corner of my eye.

He stood behind the door, his back resting against the wall and his foot hocked.

The bad part was that my chest felt it would explode in pain.

After closing the door, I walked over to the stairwell, in attempt to hide my extreme pain that is spreading throughout my entire body.

Now, I stand just halfway up the stairwell, scared for my life.

The door that Edmund left open was bright and looked like the sun from the inside of the building. I couldn`t tear my eyes away from it as Edmund deliberately walked out of the dressing room.


After Edmund noticed me, he looked over the pile of clothes, and said, ``Ruby? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to-``

I looked up at him. Ì choked. `We have a visitor.`

Immediately, a black blur darted on top of the look-out and into the dressing room.

Edmund gasped and dropped everything he held in his arms and pulled out his sword. He dashed for the dressing room. Same with me.

Entering the room, I feel this sudden urge to attack someone. Gino. Edmund. Zhivago.

I glare at Zhivago as he punches Gino across the face. His eyes glowed in pure anger and bloodlust. He looked like an animal on the loose from a brass cage. His fists flew like trains, and I remembered what happened between Meili and Zhivago.

Edmund jumped in, and sliced and cut all of Zhivago he could, but he missed every time. He was either clashing with that blue glove, or he was slicing air. Zhivago was beginning to gain on him.

I stood, helpless in the doorway, not able to do anything. I had no weapon on me.

``I thought you`ve had enough!`` Edmund called, harsh in tone as he clashed with the glove again.

``I guess I haven't.`` Zhivago coolly spoke back, slashing at Edmunds chest again.

The pain I was starting to fear earlier was slowly inching up my spine and to my neck. Its felt like bugs from the ground decided to crawl all over me, from the ground up. Oh yeah, they probably would have nails on their stomachs as they crept up.

I would never forget that feeling.

Edmund kept at him. He grunted and yelled in frustration as he cut Zhivago`s clothes instead of his flesh. His face was hard, and he was angry for letting that devil in and letting his guard down for an instant.

I just stood in the doorway, afraid of moving closer. I watched the fight and Gino was knocked out cold in the back of the room, a pile of clothes and debris of drywall and woods around and on him. I thought Gaian`s were tough, but I guess Zhivago is tougher.

I gasped in pain when Edmund cut Zhivago on the arm.

My arm`s agony screeched up my chest and around the rest of my body like a fast spreading plague. I cried, held onto my arm and dropped to my knees, like a fallen soldier. Then the pain stopped.

I looked back up and Zhivago stammered back, gaining his balance once again, and them he lunged back at Edmund, baring his fangs and claws, growling like an angry animal.

Edmund`s eyes widened and slashed his sword across Zhivago`s chest, as he was making an attempt at clawing Edmund, but he failed.

I staggered to my feet and dodged their quick steps as they moved around the room and ran to Gino, quickly clearing everything off of him. Dust was starting to fill the room, and I had a feeling the Funeral was starting, too.

And I`m guessing that Gino won`t be making an appearance like they expected.

A purple bruise was forming on the right side of his jaw where Zhivago punched him. Several scratches and other bruises scattered his face and neck, and the stitches on his forehead were torn off and his gash reopened.

The gash reminded me to look at my arm, which I have forgotten about. I looked and it was bleeding profusely.

I turned to Gino again and kept at clearing the debris off of him. After, I stood him up and slug his left arm over my shoulder and supported him with my right arm as we slowly made our way to the door, hoping no one noticed.

Once out the door, I her loud thuds of someone`s steps run up from behind me.

Without any warning, I turned and flung my left leg up and as I hit Zhivago in the chin with the tip of my food, he flew back. I knew he was coming after me, his thoughts were loud, not to mention his movements.

The bad thing was, everything around me was getting fuzzy and unfocused, the exact way Zhivago was feeling.

But the thought stayed that I had to keep Gino away from Zhivago. Every thought and fibre revolved around that one thought.

When my thoughts and actions were back into focus, I knew Zhivago would be too.

Closing my eyes for an instant, I seen in Zhivago`s point of view, of the entire situation, once again.

He was approaching me again, cursing at himself that he let such a girl like me get past him so easily, and to strike him like I had expected it. His hair was ruffled, his clothes torn, cuts healing, but leaving dark scars behind, leaving permanent reminders that his has been struck with a silver sword again.

He though that he should`ve fled, but he didn't want to. He didn't like that. Leaving a battle that you can`t finish is like leaving an unfinished portrait behind because you have no inspiration. He didn`t like loose ends, either.

He was wondering who I was.

And how a girl like me could land a hit like that on him.

He was also wondering how I am associated with Gino.

I opened my eyes back to myself, shocked, as Edmund stood at the top of the encircling stairs, trying his best to guard me as I tried to make my escape.

I realized something of Zhivago.

He doesn`t want to do this.

Accidentally letting my guard down, at the bottom of the stairs, I was tackled to the ground. Gino fell and slid across the room, still unconscious. He looked like he broke an arm. Shit.

Moving my eyes away, I looked at the person who tackled me. Zhivago held me down as he shaped his gloved hand into a gun form and pointed it to the side of my head.

"Who are you?" He growled, the guttural sound of it was so bass it made me shiver.

I couldn`t answer it.

"TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!" He screamed as his grey eyes turned back to the black and yellow again.

The answer flew out of my mouth like a wrench pulling out a bolt, or a hammer yanking out a nail, just as he had asked, "Ruby. The girl you bit on Dref Dur."

He growled again, except louder. "How did you survive?"

This time, I think he didn`t want me to answer. His eyes casted over my face, my eyes, my hair, my skin, to my neck, simply astonished. Pathetic. "I wanted a normal life, at first," I replied, kicking my legs up, tossing him away, "But I guess Fate decided to turn me into something else." Thank god riddles seemed to send the message out.

Without any signs, Edmund slid two decent sized fencing swords towards me as he dashed after Zhivago cursing under his breath as he and Zhivago went at it again. I picked the swords up and went after Zhivago.

Edmund ceased, but he kept his guard up as he let me go after Zhivago. Edmund took this chance to get the unconscious twenty-two year old out of there before things got ugly.

And I was ready to make it ugly.

Zhivago harrumphed.

Totally annoyed, I taunted, "What? Too scared to face the music?" I held my arms up, acting as though I was really wondering.

His expression hardened, "Hardly."

Without any seeing in his mind, or listening to his thoughts, I knew he would come at me first.

But what I didn`t expect was that he snapped his fingers and boom! His entire right arm was wrapped in armour of red vines and purple skin and a huge dark blue eye implanted into his very skin of the back of his hand. That was what I was not expecting.

Mocking my voice as his held his new arm up, he said, "What? Too scared to face this music?"

Mimicking his raw `sorta` British accent, I said, with a glare, "Hardly."

He jumped up in the air and flung his purple arm down on me, but I crossed my swords and held it above me, effortlessly blocking his expected attack.

Easily, I sliced more of his right arm.

Only to be greeted with that stinging pain again. This is getting so stupid…

He cried and cursed in pain, and I tried to just block his attacks the best I could, instead of attacking.

Knowing, he stood back and formed the gun with his hand again.

I knew where this was going.

"Ba-" Zhivago said, but stopped.

I immediately dropped my swords.

I need…. I need…

"I need…" I whispered, my bangs covering my eyes.

He frowned. "What?"

"I need…" I looked up at him and I caught his attention, "…to kill."

My body was against me; no longer having control of my mind as I officially lost it. My fingernails grew sharp, and my eyes stung with pure lust for bloodshed. I felt my incisors grow long and pointed. The anger that was tattooed on my heart for a long time started to form into a bubble and float to the top of my head, taking control of my actions, somewhat. I was angry at Zhivago, at Meili, for being so stupid as to get killed by this man who basically killed me, too, from the inside, and I was even angry as my own parents that I didn`t even know, who abandoned me on the streets. I was angry at my Teachers, who taught me all the things I knew today that I sure wouldn`t have learned on my own who dumped me on the streets, like my stupid parents, just for their stupid ambition. Just for their selfish decision. They didn't even stop to think what would`ve happened to me. They only covered it up with, Oh, she lived like this before, no big deal. And then zoomed off to some scam of an airship just to be shipped straight to hell, because that's the only place, at the time, which they deserved to be at. I hope their dead.

Soon, that was all I can think about. Bloodshed. Killing, for the sake of killing, because it`s fun. It solves everything.

Zhivago kept his hand up, pointing at me, and I stayed where I was, looking his with eyes that were filled with hatred and anger, but gave him a look like I was a lunatic. I smiled a pointy smile, unaware that I signalled to him that I WANT this.

He smirked. He moved his hand around the room, careful of what might happen.

Like a cursor on a computer screen, I scattered around the room at breakneck speed, looking for someone to lay my hands on and rip their heads off.

He stopped moving his hands. I stopped moving and turned to him again, smirking as my bangs covered my face as I stared at the ground. Waiting.

Zhivago chuckled.

Unexpectedly, I found my mind, and for an instant, I asked myself, what`s going to happen next?

Anger welling up once again inside me, I dashed for the front door of the mansion and effortlessly ripped the door open.

Noticing gasps and screams in the middle of the funeral, an old man in a black priest outfit spun around and gasped in fear. I growled at his expression towards me. It`s sickening.

Not giving in to any mercy, I scratched his face, easily satisfied at my first hit.

It felt like drinking liquor. The warmth falling all over yourself and can`t help but be rambunctious and just be all out silly. This was my fun.

Casting my hunger crazy gaze over the sea of people, I eyed everyone, letting them know that they were going to die. Telling them that they can run, but they can`t hide.

"Who is THAT?" A random woman screamed from inside the crowd. I immediately glared at her, angry as hell. How dare she.

"She`s a MONSTER!" A man screamed in reply.

"Oh no! It`s happening all over again!" An old lady screeched from the sidelines. I glared at every one of them.

Then, hell was risen.

I tore flesh, squashed eyes, ripped hair, broke limbs, it was a bloodbath. I had loved it. I couldn`t control my anger. I couldn`t grasp my peace of mind. I was completely corrupted.

I dumped Johnny Gambino`s body out and smiled like a crazy scientist as I tore out every organ he had once had functioning. I kicked, stabbed, jabbed, everything you could imagine to the dead carcass. To the best man that once lived. The one man Vladimir Von Helson hated. Zhivago was making me do this part on behalf of his fallen master that he killed accidentally.

And I knew I was following the orders of Zhivago without even knowing it when I ran out of the crowd that was filling with court guards from all over the place and dashed to find Gino.

My heart stopped.

Zhivago cried in pain and his arm transformed back to the glove.

I screamed in sync with him.

My body felt like it was being squashed from a huge boulder. I fell on my ass and then my body decided to fall too.

Glancing a fuzzy gaze behind me, I see Zhivago was climbing out of the back door, yelling and cursing in pain as electric shocks flew out of his glove and his entire body roared in pain. He clawed at his glove but I knew it was impossible to take it off.

One last look into my eyes, the bastard decided to turn into bats and fly away like a sore loser.

Turning to the path I just came from, I noticed Louie, Ian, and some blue cat came running after me.

"Ruby!" Louie said, sliding beside me, "What the hell?" He was pissed at my actions, clearly ready to knock me out or hit me, but instead he puts his left arm and supported me up. I think he just wanted answers.

"It wasn`t me!" I tried to yell, but out came a faint whisper, but voice cracking every slight bit. My entire body was under pressure, and only being able to breath is like a blessing.

He rolled his eyes, "To hell it wasn`t you, it was like a battlefield out there! Why did you do that?" His yells got louder.

My arm back in pain, I held onto it. My wrist was broken from the impact I was putting on it earlier, so the pain was a bit unbearable. I knew I was covered in blood. My face felt splattered with it, my clothes were torn all over from people trying to fight me off. I think that explains how I broke my wrist.

Licking my dry lips, I grazed something sharp. I licked my teeth and felt fangs.