A young, rebellious orphan girl is adopted by a group of hot vampire guys


1. Karma

Karma. It's what happens when people do bad things, and bad things happen to them in return. Why am I talking about karma, you ask? Because I am having a karma crisis. Here I am in a dark, padded room with nothing but two chairs and a table with a mocha cappuccino on it. I am sitting in one of the chairs, waiting on a detective to come into the padded room to question me. I look towards the glass window and waved, smiling happily because I knew that people were behind the glass talking about a poor, teenage girl who witnessed a dark haired man kill a cow. And technically, the cow didn't die. All that happened to the cow was that maybe a few pints of blood was gone. 

I'm getting off-track. The detective that was going to question me walked into the room and introduces himself as Eric Freedman. I had a plan when he started to question me. To answer all his questions with answers he's not looking for. "Tell me, Ms..." Mr. Freedman seemed to be having trouble remembering my name.
"Molly. Molly Rickshaw." I told him. I lied. My name wasn't Molly Rickshaw. My name was Raine Kister. Age 16, orphan. 
"Well, Molly. I'm going to ask you some very difficult questions, just try to answer them as best as you can, ok?"  What did this dude think I was? Stupid? I sighed. "Yeah, sure. Just ask the questions."

"What did this man look like?" He asked, folding his hands together. 

"He looked Scottish. Short, spiky orange hair. Green eyes. And he was tall. Like, 7 foot 10." I lied. Eric Freedman wrote this down. I suddenly had this uneasy feeling he knew I was lying. I needed to wait this out.

"Ok. And did you see what happened to the cow?" Eric asked.

"Yes. The man buried the body of the cow behind a bush." I replied, lying once again.

"Where was the bush located?"

"About 16 feet west of the barn."

"How did the man get it there?"

"He dragged the body, part by part."

"How many parts of the cow were there?"

"Seven. Each leg was cut off, as well as the cranium. The torso was cut in half."

"Is there anything about this man we could separate from other tall, Scottish men?"

"A tattoo of a heart stabbed with knives." Eric shut his notebook after writing all the information down. He then looked directly at me. "Molly, let me be frank with you. This man that killed the cow is now a federal criminal. Lying about this man, his whereabouts. Even hiding him will get you put in federal prison. So why don't you start telling me the truth." I snorted, and leaned in towards him. 

"Let me be frank with you, Eric. I am telling you the truth. What I think is the truth. So you can forget about trying to play the Bad Cop-Good Cop role. Because it won't work on me. Besides, the only thing you can get this dude for is trespassing. If the police really wanted to arrest someone for killing a cow, then they should start with the slaughter houses." I smirked and leaned back into the chair. Eric's face paled and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you for cooperating, Ms. Rickshaw. Someone will be with you shortly to tell you when you can leave." Eric replied. Then he got up and left. Once again, I was left alone in a padded room. Just add a straight jacket, and this room will be a fortified Wacky Shack. Soon, a woman came in and told me I could leave. As soon as I walked out of the station, I was bombarded by paparazzi. 

"Did they use torture methods on you?"

"What did you witness, exactly?" Okay, I was getting fed up. I grabbed a mic and faced the paparazzi. "Listen up! I WILL NOT EVER answer ANY questions about ANYTHING that you people ask me! Understood?" They all nodded. I threw the mic I had in the bushes and walked home. Or rather, walked by my future home.

I walked down the street, passed a black Victorian gate that I had once thought had no meaning to be there what-so-ever. Once I was a foot away from the gate, I stopped, thinking, 'What the fuck is past that gate?' I walked backwards, all the way towards the gate. As soon as I came up at the gate, I told myself, "Yeah, this is definitely going down right now." I grabbed the top of the gate, pulled myself up and over the gate. I brushed myself off and walked in the opposite direction of the gate. Soon, I came up a large Victorian house. Okay, house was an understatement. IT WAS A FRICKIN' CASTLE! I'm pretty sure my mouth was gaping when I saw it. I shook my head and walked inside. It wasn't like the outside on the inside. Ya know, filled with cobwebs and stuff. No, it was actually pretty nice. 

"Hello? Anyone home?" I called out. 

No answer.

"Anyone live here at all?" I muttered to myself. A gush of wind smacked me in the face. Metaphorically, of course. Then I heard a voice call out to me. "I live here every day and night, young lady." I turned towards the voice, seeing the man who drank the blood of that cow. 'Great, I'm in the house of a vampire. Good job Raine!' I scolded myself. 

"I'm surprised you were brave enough to find this place, Ms. Raine." The vampire chuckled.

"And here I was, hoping I'd run into a vampire who didn't have telepathy. Darn!" I sarcastically replied. In the blink of an eye, the vampire was right next to my face. He was about to kill me. 'This is what I get for trespassing onto a vampire's land!' I pitied myself, preparing for the end.




See? Karma.

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