Arianne Claire de Lune walked briskly through the streets of Paris. Snow fell all around her, her breath a soft cloud escaping her lips. The talk and laughter of others filled the air around her. She gripped her soft fur cloak tighter as a gust of wind blew by. Closing her eyes to keep them from tearing up, she stopped. The loud wind roared by blowing away the hat that she had just purchased that evening. She turned and watched the expensive fabric dancing playfully in the air above her. Pushing past people, apologies and polite remarks forgotten, she chased her tailored silk down the street.

The wind stopped blowing, and her hat fell to the ground in front of the Notre Dame cathedral. Arianne picked up her hat, her eyes not leaving the beautiful church before her. It was gorgeous. Her eyes caught a stone devil that battled with a scale, being held down by the holy power of God and his angels. She opened her mouth in awe as it appeared that Satan was staring down upon her, while the angel next to him refused to look her in the eye. The place, although magnificent, had a somewhat eerie glow to it while in the light of the full moon.

Arianne stood, turning her head away from the main gate, and moved her sight all along the empty road. Light shone all around her, but she felt cold in the slender shadow of the erect construct at the center of the top of the church. She clung tight to her cloak once more, and turned from the cathedral. She walked uneasy down the street, when she reached the corner of the road, she turned to look at the church once more. Then, she saw it. A figure clung to the tip of the cross on the edge of the roof. She paused a moment, and the figure jumped. Upward it flew, into the sky as though it had invisible wings. Arianne turned back to the corner, wanting nothing more than to return safely to her home. The streets that she once pushed through crowds were empty. The moon clinging to the night sky was her only companion as she ran. Her feet barely brushed the cobblestone streets as tears of worry and fear flooded her eyes.

She stopped, blinded by water, for a mere second to wipe her eyes. Suddenly, she froze. Arianne was unable to move, or speak, all she could do was breathe. Her breath turning to ice as the air around her quickly grew colder. She could hear and feel her heart as it beat faster and faster, with each beat, the air grew colder.

“Well, love,” a deep, rich voice said behind her. “Whut are you doin’ out so late, eh?”

“Qui êtes-vous?” Arianne breathed. “Que voulez-vous?”

“M’iy name is Victor,” he chuckled. “An’ I think you kn’w wha’ I wan’.” His laugh echoed in the night. She began to hurt, as if his laughing bounced off of the homes and buildings along the streets and came back to hit her.

“Veuillez… me laisser juste seul!” She cried, trying to move.

He gripped her arms tightly, causing her to cry out. She felt warm blood on her arms as his claw-like nails dug into her skin. “Jus’ where d’you think yo’re goin’?” He loosened his hold on her, and wiped the blood over her skin. He breathed in hungrily as he brought his finger to his lips. Arianne cried as he drew closer to her. She found herself powerless and he slowly licked the side of her neck. “D’ you l’ke this then?” She could only whimper. “Wha’s tha’? You wan’ more?” Tears came faster. “Well, o’kay.” Her head lurched back as a pain shot through her body. She cried out as she could feel his sharp teeth penetrate her.

All warmth left her body as he drew away. “No’w I’m no’ go’na kill you,” he sneered. “Yo’re a pre’y li’l thing. Nah, I’m go’na le’ you live. Well,” he snorted. “Be’as alive as you c’n be, anyway.” He released her, letting her barely conscious body fall hard to the ground.



Arianne’s eyes opened slightly, letting in a burning bright light. She squeezed them shut again, expecting her head to start throbbing with pain. Nothing. She slowly opened her eyes again and looked around, worried. She was lying in a hay bed inside of a log cabin; a quarter moon hung in the sky outside of a small window. Arianne sat up, and stepped off of the bed. She walked, slightly wobbling, towards the door. Suddenly, she heard the sound of logs falling. Someone cursed outside. She turned to the window, scared of what she would see.

A man stood outside in the front of the cabin, fire wood scattered about the grassy floor. He bent over, attempting to pick up each piece of wood quickly. Arianne sank from the window, hiding behind the wall and praying to God that this was all a horrible nightmare. The door creaked. Arianne hesitantly looked over to see the man with the firewood coming inside. He walked right past her, and set the wood next to the fireplace. She crept to the slightly opened door and prepared to run.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” The man said coolly.

“What is going on?” Arianne breathed, cold-foreign words escaping her lips. She gasped, covering her mouth in horror.

The man laughed. “I brought you here, saved your life in fact. If they had found you, you would have been hung up and burned before sunrise.”

“What are you talking about?” Arianne cried. “Who is ‘they’?”

“The humans...” he replied. His voice was cold and uninviting.

“But...” Arianne looked at him, curiosity and fear in her eyes. “What... If you are not a human... than... what...?”

“The same as you, my dear,” He turned and looked her, smiling wickedly.

Arianne covered her mouth once more. “No...” she breathed. “I’m... I can’t... I am not!”

“Face it!” he almost yelled. “You are what you are, and there is no going back! Do you want to be amongst those beastly creatures again?! They will kill you! Kill you in far worse ways than anyone could ever possibly imagine!” He stood and began to walk towards her. “You are one of us now. You are safe.”

“No!” she cried. He gripped her wrists and she looked away. She felt the want, the need to cry, but no tears came. The man took one of her hands and placed it firmly over her chest. She opened her eyes, and looked down. She could no longer deny what he was trying to tell her. “Where... where is my heart beat?”

“Your heart no longer beats because it is dead.” He explained. “You live only because some low-life Malvirian felt the need to curse yet another.” He lifted her into his arms, and she felt unable to stop him. “It’s okay now, Levana. You’re safe here.”

“My... name...” she tried so say, but the words were lost to her. He placed her back into the bed and sat down at the table.

“It’s okay, don’t speak.” He lit the candles on top of the table. “Just sleep.”