Vampires. Who Knew, Right?

Humanity? Nah. Kindness? ... Love? Riiiight. Blood? Yummy :)

175 year old Quinn Linkom has been a vampire ever since her 18th birthday. And boy, is she BORED. 175 years? You can just about do anything a human would want to do. Travel the world? Check. Meet famous celebs? Check. Get the dream job. Check. But...what else is there?



(Sorry, the cover says New not Knew, someone pointed out the mistake to me :) )

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2. Nostalgia. Um, Wrong Person?

A week of travelling, and finally I am in the middle of know where. In other words, lets call it home, shall we? Looking around, I saw old, dried blood in the wooden panels if the floor. My parents. And my own, over their by the creaky stove that never used to work. Ugh. A light drip fell on my mess of jet black hair, and I instantly became paranoid, jumping into action and swiping a knife of the side that had somehow become lodged in the side of the counter. I eyed the ceiling, only to see it had fallen in in places, the tiles bending unnaturally downwards. Signing at my own nature, I slid the knife slowly down the waistband of my bleached, ripped, skinny jeans like I had done so with countless guns, hatchets and forks- (Don't ask,) And then trailed my pale finger along the surfaces, gathering years worth of dust as I did so. I kept walking, wincing every time something moved. As vampires, we generally don't like irritating/scratchy noises. Still. I cautiously walked up the winding stairs, avoiding many holes in the wood that had rotted away. My icy blue eyes surveyed the corridor as I stepped into my bedroom. Not a lot had changed, same awful bedspread, same matching awful lampshade, etc. the only thing different was that there were a lot more holes.
Nostalgic? I was anything but. This place was old news. Had been for a while. I pressed my lips together, suppressing any feelings (Like nostalgia) that threaten to rise. See, us vampires pretend to be all hard core, trust me, we ARE, but there is always one thing, one Achilles heel so to speak. Sometimes it takes years to find them, some times days. It depends on the vampire. Hey! I know what you're thinking. And the answer is no. Not, no, I haven't found mine, more, hahaha-you're-crazy-if-you-think-I'm-going-to-tell-you kind of no. Priorities, right?
Anyway. I continued walking around, checking every room. I wasn't sure what I was looking for. Evidence? The vamp to come back and say,
"Hey there, Quinn. How's it goin', bro? You feelin' good? Yeah? Same, dude. Same."
???????

5 minutes later:
Yawning.

10 minutes later:
Closer to KNOW WHERE.

20 minutes later:
Face planting the floor... Who was THAT?

I spun onto my feet with unnatural grace and speed, the ends of my hair flicking my waist. I narrowed my eyes on the nice-looking-but-obviously-evil-vampire-in-disguise like he had just had my goldfish for breakfast and he was so-o going down in less than 5 seconds if he didn't fess up. Messy black hair, black eyes, had the whole bad boy thing going for him. Not to mention his tan. Good thing about tanned people, they get to keep their tan. I was born pale, I'll die pale. Fab. Anyway, this guy kept speculating me 'from afar' and I was pretty sick of it, so I just thought, hell, let's kill this guy already, tan or no tan.

Mess up score,

Mysterious Good Looking Guy, (MGLG): 0
Quinn Linkom (Who should've fallen for the tan and the sexy face): 1
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