• A.N- *Attention* I am putting this information here because no one ever reads the discription. This piece is rated M for language and violence. It is only a preview, and if you would like to read chapter two please copy and paste the following link http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2492944/1/Blood_Shed

    Chapter One

    Sam poked her head from her bathroom, looking down the hall before quickly and quietly making her way to her room which was just down the hall to her left. But just as she was about to dive into safety, her mother Amber, a thin, red haired woman stepped out into the hallway and caught a glimpse of the teen. She turned and glared at her daughter and Sam slumped, having failed in her attempt to avoid her.

    "Samantha Winlock, will you hurry for god's sake?! We're going to be late!"

    "I'm working on it mother!" Sam snapped. She hated when anyone used her full name, "Will you just, leave me alone for three seconds and not pester me all the time?!"

    She walked into her room and over to her jade comforted bed, assessing the mess of clothes and books which laid scattered there.

    "iPod…iPod…" She murmured to herself, shifting things until her green eyes landed on her cream colored jacket.

    Digging in the pockets she gave a satisfied smirk as her fingers wrapped around her beloved and she hugged the jacket to her while making her way out of her room, flipping the light off and forgetting about her open bedroom window.

    She met her younger brother Jacque and her mother again and they made their way outside where her grandpa and grandma already sat in the waiting truck. And together the family took off down the road, toward the Orpheum Theater where the famous psychic John Edwards would be performing.

    After an hour of sitting in relentless traffic, the family climbed out of their truck and made their way into the theater, where Sam, with her iPod headphones embedded in her ears, found their seats and relaxed. She had a particular question in mind that she was simply dying for an answer to, a question that she had to have the answer to.

    Jacque went to get everyone drinks while they waited for the show to start and just barely made it back in time. The lights dimmed and everyone applauded. Sam did too, catching his eye as the brown haired man stepped onto the stage.

    "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," He spoke into the microphone and flashed a smile, "I'd like to thank you for coming out this evening. You're in for quite the show."

    And still without pealing his mocha eyes from hers he spoke again, "Shall we begin?"

    The audience responded with another round of applause and he looked away from her, addressing the audience once again. Once everyone had quieted down, he began to pace slowly, taking lazy strides across the huge, red curtained stage. Sam watched him carefully, attempting to call his attention back to her.

    Throughout the show he answered questions about the person's future, the dead, and even the future of humanity. Sam found this all fascinating; he could answer such questions without the slightest doubt. She personally had never really been a big fan of psychics, but he made her want to believe, and she did.

    As he scanned the audience again, she felt her heart jump, he had to choose her! He had to! Her question wasn't about her dead father, or what will happen to humanity fifty years from now. No! It was about…

    But his eyes landed on someone else, and he began assessing them. Sam sighed, disappointment flooding over her. And this continued throughout the evening! She was so close and he seemed to avoid her. But he sensed it, that her question had a certain sinister air about it. He had the distinct feeling that it certainly was not a commonly asked question and he wouldn't want to regret giving her the answer.

    The lights finally rose, and with fury and frustration pumping hot through her veins, Sam stood up and followed her family into the huge crowd of people trying to squeeze through the double doors.

    "Stick close Sam," Her mother ordered, grabbing Jacque by the wrist.

    He of course didn't appreciate having to practically hold his mother's hand, as he did think that he was old enough to walk by himself. But he didn't dare question his mother, knowing that she'd probably get angry at his defiance. So other than a few grunts and whimpers, he said nothing.

    Sam tried to stick as close as possible, but when a big blurry man stepped in front of her, there was really nothing she could do. So instead she made a point of expressing her distaste at his actions by stepping on his heels and shoving against him, using the crowd as an excuse.

    When she finally made it out of the theater she looked around, only to come to find that her family was already gone. They probably figured that she was still with them, and hadn't bothered to check. She sighed and reached in her back pocket for her phone to call, and when she didn't feel it, Sam panicked. Frantically she checked all her pockets and groaned when she found them all empty.

    "You have got to be joking." She muttered bitterly, looking around again and finally heading right down the long corridor.

    Sam walked slowly, lazily, despite knowing that her family was probably having a fit over her disappearance. But there was really nothing she could do now except attempt to find a security guard to help her look for her phone once the theater had cleared out. And her family would find her eventually.

    Sticking her hands in her pockets she looked down and ahead of her just a little waze, only to see something silver gleam in the faint light. Sam knew instantly what it was..

    "My phone!"

    But there was one, minor complication. A man stood over it, and gazed back at her with fierce, unnatural, orange eyes nearly hidden by the veil of his onyx hair. Suddenly the air around them was tainted with a certain dark edge, and Sam gulped, taking a hesitant step back. He was beautiful no doubt, prominent cheek bones, pale-pink lips, and ear length, shaggy black hair. The lights seemed to flicker, like candles and somehow, she mustered the courage to speak.

    "T-That's…my phone."

    The left side of his lips pulled up, and Sam witnessed the sharpened canines which adorned his wicked smile. He stooped to pick it up and studied it, still with that chilling grin perched on his face.

    "So it seems…" He murmured.

    His voice made Sam shiver, it was so cool, composed, smooth and deep.

    She seemed to be frozen and he blinked, but when he looked at her again, she was sure his eyes had changed color as they were now icy blue, and seemed to freeze the blood that pumped through her veins.

    "You're afraid." He murmured, turning the small phone over in his hand and studying it.

    "No I'm not," She lied, drawing his attention back to her.

    "You're lying." He chuckled, "Well then,"

    Suddenly he was in front of her and bent over her shoulder. Sam blinked, he was so fast she hadn't even seen him move! He breathed cool breath on the side of her neck before slipping her phone into her hand and somehow managing to do this without making contact with her. She stood frozen for a moment, and then he leaned back to stand straight again and walk past her.

    "Who are you?" She whispered and turned to face him again.

    He looked back at her over his shoulder, "Don't you know already?"

    Sam frowned, how would she know him?

    But she noticed that his eyes had changed back to their original color – orange.

    "I want a name."

    He turned now to face her, "A name…call me what you wish."

    "A name!" She demanded.

    They stood in silence for a moment before he took the steps necessary to stand in front of her again. He scanned over her body with his eyes, though the composure in his face never melted away.

    "If you must know," He leaned over again, "My name…is Sebastian."

    The hesitation at the end made Sam believe that he was lying. But she wasn't able to question as he was gone. He had disappeared just as suddenly as he had come. Footsteps echoed along the walls of the corridor and her brother suddenly appeared, circling around her.

    "Sam! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

    She smiled down at him but then looked up as another figure appeared.

    "Why didn't you answer your phone?" Her mother snapped, "Grandma and Grandpa were worried sick about you, you know!"

    Sam lowered her eyes, "Sorry mom."

    After a moment she smiled and wrapped her arm around her shoulders, "It's alright."

    Together they walked out of the theater and into the truck. Sam sat in silence the whole way home, she was contemplating. The fact that the mysterious man had sharpened canines – fangs – made her wonder. Was it just a trick of light, or had they honestly been there?

    Perhaps she didn't need a psychic to answer her question, her encounter with Sebastian may have answered it for her.

    As they pulled into her driveway, she looked up, sensing something strange. There was a sick twisting feeling in her stomach and as she climbed out of the backseat, her entire being screamed at her not to go any further. She walked around the truck to stand in the front lawn and gaze up at the house.

    Strange, she thought, nothing's changed.

    But as Jacque strode passed her she snatched him by his arm and pulled him into her side.

    "Hey mom, wait…"

    But it was too late, she had already gone inside.

    "Sam! Come on I'm tired." Her brother whined.

    "Sh!" She snapped.

    There was something…inside of the house she could feel it!

    "Something's not right." She murmured.

    "Seriously…you're scaring me…"

    A horrible scream of terror brought their attention to the half open front door. The two siblings stood frozen on the lawn, staring ahead blankly before finally making a break for the door. Sam motioned for her brother to be quiet and he nodded and clung to her, hiding in her shadow as they walked in. At first, it seemed that nothing had changed, but this sick feeling plagued Sam's stomach and she knew that something was horribly wrong.

    And finally, she was able to pin the feeling on something as they went to enter their living room. Sam saw the red splatters on the walls and white carpet and without making a sound she quickly turned to her brother and they hid behind a large leather chair. She hugged his head close to her chest as she peered through the small window created by the gap between the chair and the small table that rested beside it.

    Scanning the room, she made note of the two bodies that lay limp in one corner of the living room – their grandparents. But where was her mother?

    Looking farther to the right she found her clutched to a strange man's chest, and his face was nestled into the side of her neck. His back was to her, but she could see that her mother's eyes were rolled back, and only the whites were visible. Sam bit her lower lip and fought back her tears. She had to look at this logically, and she absolutely had to keep her cool. If she started to lose it now, she could get both her and her brother killed.

    He lifted his head from her mother's neck and dropped the limp body, freeing his arms and wiping the blood from his mouth, licking that too. Sam watched as he turned to one of the other men who had accompanied him.

    "Where is she?!" He growled in a voice that was obscured by a thick French accent.

    His red eyes gleamed as his long, hip-length white hair shimmered in the faint light.

    The man he spoke too cowered, "I…I don't know. She was here!"

    He pushed him away and he slammed into a wall, flinching in pain as the man turned again, grinning and allowing his eyes to roll back.

    "Samantha," He whispered taking a step toward their hiding place, "I know you're here. I can smell your fear…"

    She covered her own mouth, leaning back against the chair and away from the table.

    "Your heart," He murmured, "It still beats…"

    But he was cut short as red and blue flashing lights appeared in the front window. She peaked around again and saw his eyes roll forward and he lifted the man who still sat on the ground by the front of his shirt, throwing him forward and shoving him while ordering the others who stood.

    "Let's go!"

    They slipped out the small kitchen window just as the police made their way inside.

    They stopped to take in the scene and sighed, some of them shaking their heads. One of them took notice of the two teens cowering in the corner and he gave them a small smile, walking over to them and offering his hand.

    "Let's take a walk." He said while leading them outside and away from to horrific scene.