"You've killed Gape."
That sentence is the turning point of this romantic, intense fantasy-novel about a hulave-girl named Elise Morrison. What is a hulave, you may ask? Well.. It's the term for a human slave.
In 2051 the vampires invaded the earth. This story takes place 450 years after.

This story has four and a half stars on the website "" and has been rated thirty-six times!
All the people who have read it says that it definitely isn't "Just another vampire story"

Btw—this is NOT a novella! It's a novel! :)


4. Three


We reached the enormous, terrifying mountains just before nightfall as planned.

I got off Nathaniel's back, settling down on a big, slithery rock, wanting to climb his back again and enjoy the sensational sent of fresh leather.

"Stay here, I'll be back soon." Said Nathaniel, walking hastily away.

I crossed my arms, trying to get some shelter from the cold of the early november evening. I checked out the GPs, just to discover what I already knew; that there were five days until we would reach the border of Serbia, the country where Keith was hiding. This was the first time on our trip, Nathaniel had left me alone. He'd even guarded the door, when I'd went to the bathroom at the café. 

I drew a long sigh, hands trembling, party because of the cold and partly because of my mind's sudden agony. I was miserable. I didn't want to be alone.  Not because I was worried about anyone finding me, but because being alone meant silence. Silence meant peace to think. And peace to think equaled in punishing myself with feelings of guilt. Guilt of what I was doing. Who I was betraying. I hadn't cried since the day I caught Keith, after he'd ripped Gape apart, but now, the salty tears were just really trying to get out, tickling the inner of my cold eyelids. I gritted my teeth. No. I was not going to cry. I couldn't. If I did, I didn't know if I would be able to stop again. But not to cry seemed like the hardest thing not to do right now. Keith had never been anything but kind to me, in all the time we had known each other. He had always been the perfect gentleman, where all the other guys I knew had treated me like a peace of meat. He respected my sensitive nature, called me beautiful instead of hot, stroked my hair while whispering comforting words into my ear when I was sad and had never forced me to do anything I didn't want to. He loved me, I could tell. Yes, after he'd been turned, he had always been a little angry and had been easy to provoke, but he was still a hundred times the man than any other. But right in this second, I wished we'd never even meet. I wished to erase our first meeting. The night I first lay eyes on him. The night I fell in love with his charming smile and midnight-blue eyes.


It was about three hours before dawn, when the annual hulave-feast was being kept.

Once a year every hulave in every town was gathered at the town-square, where they were being given a feast worthy of an old time queen. Denise and I were some of the last to arrive, because we lived in the other end of the town, which contained a bit more than 5.000 citizens, 2.000 being vampires or vacessors. When we made it to the huge town square, a compelling sight caught both of our gazes: forty long-tables were placed under about two dozens of warming lights. Some hulaves must had have been working all day to establish that. Five of the tables were jam-packed with delicious-looking food, which must have been made by hulaves too. 

"Is it just me," Denise started, after we'd manage to find a place to sit. "or are the hulave-feasts getting better and better each year?"

I grinned at her, stomach roaring by the smell of the food we'd just picked up.

"I think we can agree on that one." I answered, giving her a teasing wink. I was always ecstatic on this night. Not only because of the food, but Denise and I were just always having a good time. We usually meet up with a huge party and was up all day. It was really nice. Sometimes we would go out into the forest, which were placed one mile outside time. And sometimes we would just hang out at the town-square, stealing some of the adult hulaves' left-over liquor. Tonight the latter was exactly what we was going to do and I couldn't wait. What better way to forget all about your miserable life? 

I studied the hulaves sitting near us. A wavy, red-haired girl, head filled with freckles, made me think of how boring my almond-colored, torso-long, straight hair were in comparison. Her eyes were looking warily around, as if she were looking out for any potential threats. She had an army-green colored tank on, her arms bearing a small bolero. A very usual hulave-outfit, together with leggings. A tall white haired guy with high cheek-bones sat beside her, eating his food with such speed you should think he was trying to beat some sort of record. He met my gaze with a smirk, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, “see something you like?”  I rolled my eyes, studying the guy sitting on the other side of the red-haired girl, he looked like a painting. A very beautiful painting: his messy, cream-blond hair were damped, as if he had just taken a shower. He was having a conversation with the red-haired girl, his dark eyes looking bored, but not in a I'm-too-good-for-her way, just an uninterested way. He wore a tight, green, long-sleeved t-shirt, his lean chest clearly noticeable. As if he had felt my gaze, his eyes went from the girl to me. "Hey," he said oblivious to my astonished look. 

At first I couldn't get out a word. I was too taken aback by his intense gaze and developing smile. 

"I haven't seen you here before," I started—I would have remembered someone looking like him—"are you new in town?"

He nodded, "I arrived two months ago," he gestured toward the auburn-haired girl, "this is Vanessa, my wilave. Our vaster is Esther, the mayors wife." 

"What happened to your former vaster?" When I saw the grim frown turning up on his face I added, "if I may ask?"

"You may," he concluded, "you're just not getting an answer." He rose from his seat abruptly. "Nice to meet you all," was the last thing he said before storming away.

"Talk about drama," scoffed Denise, giving me a sideways glance. 

"Yeah," I answered hesitatingly, not really paying attention to her. I was to freaked out by the way he just left. And too taken aback by his eyes.

"He has had a bad night. Esther has been a little harsh on him." Vanessa said, as an apology. Then she left, walking in the same direction as he had. 

“So,” Said the white haired, self-centered guy, “you staying here, you know until the nightfall hits again?” He cast me a flirting look, as if he expected that I would say yes just because of his “charm”.

I nodded, not giving him any falls hopes by looking at him in any other way that I would a vaster. “You?” I asked, just to be polite. Or, to find out if the blond guy with the deep dark eyes were coming too. 

He smirked and bit his dry lower lip. God, he was just so full of himself. “Of course and if you are going too, I can’t imagine the night to be anything but magical.”

An inner war was about to begin: a HUGE part of me wanted to grab his, surely dyed, white locks and jerk his head down onto the table, another part of me wanted to spit him in the face and a tiny, almost unnoticeable, part of me just wanted to know if the other guy was coming. To my own astonishment I answered, “I’m sure,” while I gave him an awkward smile, “but are your friends coming too? You know, I would like to get to know your friends, to see if you are any good.” A voice inside my head screamed, “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you leading this guy on, just to get another glance of another?”

The white haired guy smirked and gave me a little wink. “Are you referring to the two weirdoes who just left?”

I nodded while thinking that if anyone was a “weirdo” it was him. 

“They aren’t my friends, but I heard them talking earlier and they said they’d come.”

“Great.” I answered, a huge smile turning up on my pale face, which seemed to make the white haired guy get a kick. He bit his pink lover lip again while eating me up with his weird sliver eyes. While rising to his feet, showing how tall and thin he was, he said, “Then I’ll see you later,” and flexed his toned arms. So full of himself, I thought while really concentrating not to gag. His shirt was stained with, what looked like, chicken fat and his dark denim jeans were baggy, making him look like someone who’d just shit their pants. I hated whose kinds of hulaves, but I tried not to show it.

Denise chocked on a bite of damped broccoli. She looked in the direction of the sandy haired guy, seeming astonished. “What,” she pointed at him with a long, smooth finger, which nail was lacquered with a rich amber color. “Was that?”

I looked at her nail, a bit shocked. How had she gotten her hands on a nail polish? Had she stolen it? If not, then who had given it to her?

She put down her hand, holding it against her red tank. Her leggings had a big whole on the knee, but it looked good, kind of rough. She tilted her head, making her long velvet hair cascade a little to her right side.

“Why did you just pretend to like that guy?” She asked, observing my features with her crystal-blue eyes.  

“I don’t know,” I lied, not wanting to admit that it was for the dark-eyed guy.


Dawn approached too slowly that night. I waited, not able to get down one more bite of the delicious food. Denise kept looking at me weird, but she didn’t say anything.

When the sky at last grew lighter, I observed how almost every hulave left, only leaving twenty behind. Then, after about half an hour, a tall, slim guy with auburn hair, came out from one of the houses placed nearby, carrying a big case filled with liquor. He had a daring smirk on his face as he gave each of us our own bottle. 

I drank my bottle pretty fast, in about an hour and thereafter sat down beside Denise, at one of the few remaining long-tables. She flashed me a big smile, looking like someone who didn’t have a care in her life. She was drunk.

“So,” She said, holding up a waving finger while, unsuccessfully, trying to focus on my eyes. “I think I’ve figured it out!” She exclaimed, voice dripping with excitement. 

“The reason why you led that guy on earlier, is that you’re lonely” I raised an eyebrow, wondering how she had gotten to that conclusion. 

“But Elise,” She continued, “You don’t have to be, because—” she seemed to had forgotten why. “Whthehell, who cares?” she said whereafter her head fell to rest on the table, where she immediately conked.

I drew a long sigh, not able to hold back a slight beam. She was adorable even when drunk. I thought about taking her home when a voice indulged from behind me, brimming with desire, “Who do we have here?” 

I rolled my eyes.

“Isn’t it the lovely female being from earlier?” 

My stomach whited in disgust; the guy from earlier had come to play. Or at least he thought he was.

I turned around, trying not to show my disgust. 

He looked mischievously pleasured about my gaze being focused on him. 

“So,” He said while settling down beside me, not caring about the passed out Denise lingering on the table on the my other. “I don’t think we have been formally introduced,” he brought out his pale left hand from one of his jeans’ pockets. “I’m Glover,” I retained a chuckle not pointing out to him that he held out the wrong hand, “Elise,” I stated, not taking his hand. 

He frowned, “This is where we shake our hands, right?” 

I sighted and took his left hand with my right, trying to give him a lead that he was holding out the wrong one. He didn’t seem to notice and thereafter leaned forward toward me and whispered, “What a lovely name,” he then focused his eyes on mine, seeming numb, “And what lovely eyes,” he lifted his left hand to cup my chin, but I jerked my head back, no wanting him to touch me.

He then grew a bit impatient, looked out into nothing for a while, seeming to consider something, then held a lock of his shoulder long hair between his rugged fingers and at last looked back at me winking. His pale head jerked toward mine, forcing a rough, drool-filled kiss upon my lips. When I tried to flinch away, he grabbed the back of my head while a disgusting tongue glided in between my lips and into my mouth, forcing mine around inside it. I tried to hit him, but he captured my arms down against my sides with both of his muscled legs while a pin on his left pant cut into my arm, making a little stream of blood slither down the bear, vulnerable skin. Anxiety stared to rise inside my body, because not only did him capturing my arms make it impossible for me to hit him or escape; it also prevented me from touching my right collarbone which always helped when I got nervous. A vivid image of me as a child slipping on the big ice-coated hill, standing by the outskirts of the town, filled my mind. The traumatizing pain that shot through my fragile body when the collarbone cracked, leaved me almost careless for what was happening to me in this very second. Almost. 

I bit his tongue, coursing it to recoil while a rich taste of iron exploded inside my mouth.

He grabbed a big lock of my hair, removed his legs from my arms and rose to his feet, dragging me up to standing position. My arms yank up from my sides, finding the collarbone, which immediately gave me a feeling of peace. I didn’t know why, but it just did.

“Now,” Glover said while removing a stain of blood from his lower lip with his gross tongue, flinching in pain, which caused a spark of satisfaction to rise inside of me. 

“If you don’t mind, we are going to my house and if you try to get away, I’ll make you wish you had never even been born.”

I thought of escaping one last time and then gave up, astonished about how no one had even noticed that a rape was happening right before their eyes.

I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. I was numbed.


Jolting out of my flashback, I felt something furry move up agains my left leg.

I abruptly opened my eyes, not having realized that they had been closed in the first place, and to my astonishment a huge lynx was standing right beside me, seeming to want to comfort me with its soft fur. 

When it looked up into my eyes with its golden ones, I realized something; It was the same lynx as yesterday. Its eyes were too unique to appear on two lynxes. Two lynxes with those eyes would be the same as if there were two Sundays in a week. 

I stroked its soft, amber-colored fur, admiring the complex pattern lingering on its body. It was like small dotted drawings, which actually didn’t look natural so complex as it was. The Lynx started purring and licked its big white paw in pleasure. This continued for a while, until the lynx abruptly jerked open its golden eyes seeming to have heard something and where it thereafter ran into the nearby forest. 

I sighted, not able to forget the soft feel of the lynx fur. It had been like touching new-made silk, just softer. So soft that goose-bombs had turned up on my arms.

“What are you doing down there?” a familiar voice mused from behind. 

I coked my head to look up into Nathaniel’s vague, emerald eyes, hidden by the darkness of the approaching night.

“What do you mean? You left me here?” I looked at Nathaniel with, what I think looked like, a skeptical expression painted all over my face. It wasn’t only the darkness that made Nathaniel’s eyes seem vague, I noticed, his pupils seemed like they were covered by some sort of wale. 

“Oh. Yeah. That’s true,” he mumbled, not seeming to have listened to my words and had just answered randomly. What was wrong with him?

“Have you found a place for us to sleep?” I asked, trying not to show my skepticism.

“Yeah, I have,” he said while looking out into the forest with an incoherent look on his face.

“And where would that be?” I was starting to get impatient, but also a bit freaked out.

“This way,” Nathaniel said while suddenly striding toward a little trail, which seemed to lead up the enormous shadow filled mountain steeply standing in front of us. 

I slowly rose to my feet, trying to ignore the searing pain rising inside my left ankle. Nathaniel was almost out of sight now, so I just had to at least try to stay oblivious about my ankle’s agony.

I slowly limped away from the big rock that had been my chair the last half hour, rethinking the day where I’d almost gotten raped. I could almost taste the irony flavor of Glover’s blood in my mouth. Only the thought of what would have happened if Keith hadn’t come to safe me, was enough to make my throat tighten. The feeling of that foul tongue agains my own almost made me gag. God, I had been lucky. 

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