Aloysia stood there, staring into the black night. Her hands wrapped around her cold pale arms. Her world was getting darker now, even as the horizon threatened sunrise. She jumped down from her rock post, her long raven hair bouncing as she hit the ground below. Like a nimble cat she landed on her feet from the high jump. She ran into the distance to find the opening that let underground, where she would have to refuge from the sun.

She was quite different from any other girl you'd see. Her wondrous beauty and allure made it so hard to see sometimes. She was a fantastic creature of the night, one called a vampire. Though she was no hunter like the rest of her kind. She had a very deep empathy for the humans. So many lives taken away - she couldn't let herself be another source of the killing. Through it took her 150 years to realize this.

Aloysia loved watching people, children the most. So fragile they were, so pure and could be pulled in any direction with a single hum of a lulling voice. She so badly wanted children, though it was nearly impossible for a female vampire to have a child. Such a rarity would cleanse the wicked - if any - left inside her.

As she drank pig's blood in her lovely chalice her birth mother gave to her so long ago, she felt like a mysterious angel-demon, such power surged through her. Human blood gave the same satisfaction times ten, but it was so hard to get into the blood banks now a days. Though she'd give it all up to be human again. Immortality was getting dull, and she needed something to shake her mind for the moment.

Then the vampire girl, who only looked 20, but you could tell some how she was far older than that, crawled into a little spot. She snuggled in with her blanket she had carried with her. She wished she was in her own bed right now, but she lost track of time and would have to wait until sunset to get back home.

As the day rolled into the divine earth, Aloysia lulled herself to sleep by singing to herself a well over 200-year-old lullaby. Taught to her by a wonderful friend that she missed so much. Another vampire who had the same empathy for the humans. His name was Abivin Trene. Oh, how much she missed him.

His dark eyes, dark hair, and wonderfully warm smile filled her dreams. Maybe one day they'd meet again. He was so busy traveling the world, filling other vampires with the love for the many humans of the lives they took. He was definitely a man on a mission. She just hoped that he didn't run into the darker vampires - who through humans as cattle, and anyone who thought otherwise should become like cattle. She honestly didn't know what that meant when Abivin told her this, but she knew one thing; she didn't want to.

Baptista Carterson stood in the museum. Her wonderful dark eyes plastered with dark murky blues. She couldn't believe her talent had gotten her so far. Everyone loved her dark artwork. Lovely fantasies were told with the fine strokes of paint.

Tonight was going to be her very own show and her babies would be bought by the awers. She would miss them so much as she held up her camera and snapped pictures for her portfolio.

Everyone adored the mystique of Baptista's art. The regal vampires, dark angels, and wonderful witches, faeries, and gargoyles. She knew she loved them, because they were apart of her, but it was amazing to find other people finding parts of themselves in her work.

The night settled upon the grand earth, first breaking the sky into purples, then leaving it cold in the black. Aloysia stretched her long white arms. Her neck cracked as she tilted her neck swiftly to the left. Her green eyes flickered in the moonlight as she set out into the night.

Baptista was on her way to her car, on the way of her very first art show. When she saw a lovely dark figure bound and jump so nimbly in the night. Lean white body, and long black hair, as the being went into a street light she saw the beautiful face of Aloysia. The two stared at reach other for a moment.

Aloysia stared at the young girl with red hair tied up behind her head. Her light skin rumbling from the long sleeve black clingy shirt she wore. Aloysia gave the pretty girl a smile and went back off into the night.

Baptista stood there for a moment, mesmerized and in an almost trance like state. This woman she just saw looked like the lovely vampires she drew and painted all the time. It was a total blessing and total fearing sight to see what she just saw.

The art show was a complete dream, but a lot of the time Baptista had her mind on the lovely woman that she encountered. Each time brought tingles up her back, but most of the time it was someone trying to get her attention.

Her eyes focused, as she could hardly believe them. There it was in front of her, in the artificial light of the museum. The lovely vampire lady from the streets. Even in front of her in this mundane world, her before this woman, it still felt like a dream.

"Nice to see you again." Aloysia said in her raspy yet soothing voice. She looked from Baptista to the lovely artwork behind. "Did you really make these wonderful dreamscapes?"

Baptista shook from her daze as she was staring intently at the woman. She couldn't say a word, though she shyly nodded.

"I must have this one!" Aloysia said with delight as she pointed her ring covered index finger to a glorious painting of a woman that was sitting in a chair.

Suprisingly this woman in Baptista's painting looked just like her mother, her vampire mother, Heléna.

"You really like that one?" Baptista said... finally after a long pause had came when Aloysia exclaimed she must have this piece of Baptista's soul.

Aloysia nodded, still in wonder at the painting before her. The same wonder Baptista had for Aloysia. She turned her head to Baptista, then looked down at her hands that helped the young girl's mind to craft such a masterpiece.

"Where did you get the inspiration to paint this one?" Aloysia finally said, playing with the long sleeve of her crushed velvet shirt that hung over her delicate china hands.

"I call her Heléna... She came to me in a dream." Baptista said, not looking at Aloysia, because she was afraid of her expression. "She told me in my dream to draw her so she could be alive again."

Aloysia looked the young girl up and down, but she could tell by the girl's presence that she was no vampire. So how did this young lady know of Heléna? And her beloved vampire mother had died almost 67 years ago. Obviously way before this girl's time, had Heléna really come to this girl in this dream? Maybe in itself it was a message to Aloysia, that she needed to be around this girl, Baptista Carterson.

"That's wonderful." Aloysia said. "I will buy this one."

Baptista couldn't believe it; she had almost sold all her paintings. A lot of her artwork went to this one couple who were starting the Goth Nightclub. They gave her their card, because definitely in the future they would like to purchase some more of her art, and they would send lots of people her way.

As these two were so dark and mysterious in their Goth attire, they were absolutely nothing like the darkness of Aloysia, and it didn't seem that she tried to be that way. It was just the way she was. Baptista was glad that Heléna was going to such a great home, and somehow, she knew that her and Aloysia would meet again.

Days had passed and all Baptista could think, do, paint, and draw was Aloysia in her dark strokes of charcoal, oil pastels, good old pencil, and everything else she could get her hands on. Her favourite part of Aloysia she found after capturing her form so many times were her eyes. So full of life, yet they showed pain and joy, triumph and strife that held those very stories.

She put her paintbrushes aside as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was covered in paints and charcoal dust. She just wished she had an ounce of beauty Aloysia had. She looked over at her table, and there still was the check that Aloysia gave her for Heléna, she looked at the wonderful handwriting. Aloysia Richer, such a lovely name.

Aloysia's looks were flawless; she had to be something of the supernatural world. Her perfect oval-like face, with defining curves towards her chin. Her nose so regal and defined, like those of the noble vampire women she drew. Wonderful full lips that carried that soul shattering voice. Lovely breasts, round and firm. Small and petite standing about 5'4, so lady like, so delicate. Nothing like Baptista, but everything she wanted to be.

A child like face praised her in the mirror. Her cheeks full and rounded, her nose round and soft like an infant, and thin tiny lips of a cherub. Her body was muscular, covered in freckles, and she didn't have much for breasts. She stood high at a mighty 5'10. The modern day amazons, as she called people who had looks like her. Though she had to deal with what was dealt with her. It wasn't like she was a monster, but for some reason she was never satisfied.

Aloysia looked at her wall from her bed, there hanging was the lovely painting of her vampire mother Heléna. Not only was she awed by how much it looked like her, but this girl, she had dreams of a vampire she didn't even know. It made Aloysia wonder if all her paintings came from spirits and creatures visiting in the night.

Nights have passed and Aloysia and Baptista's minds were filled with each other and the mysteries each of them held. They didn't know it, but they would be meeting again, all too soon.

A very tall man was standing before Baptista's artwork in the museum; it was almost closing time. The autumn sun had just set before he walked into the doors. The work before him had to be of that of his own kind. No human could ever capture his kind like this young girl, and if she was human, she was definitely of a rare breed.

His glowing blue eyes moved from picture to picture that still hung on the wall. He had to meet this girl that did these paintings. Then his head turned up to the sound of the voice of a woman; it was in the speaker above his head. The museum is closing in 5 minutes. He growled quietly to himself and made his way to the door.

"Baptista Carterson..." He mumbled to himself aloud. Who are you?

Baptista was in her car on her way to the Goth Nightclub. For one she wanted to see how the owners used her work, and she was to meet a friend there. Frankie Davinport, a girl so different looking from Baptista. Frankie was totally into the gothic scene, while Baptista really didn't fit into any scene, except in her art. That's what got her places, to be the neutral person she was in a world going in so many different places.

There are the bar sat her familiar friend, with short spikey blonde and dark, deeper than earth, brown eyes. White as china, but with a pink tint showing she was still among the living. Dark rings of mascara rung around those dark, dark eyes. And blood red lipstick clung to her fat wormy lips.  Of course she wore all black, with lines of red and purple going through her leather straps on her halter-top. And finally from her mouth hung a cigarette; a habit Baptista wished Frankie would get rid of.

"It's about time." Frankie said, putting out her cigarette butt into the ashtray.

She looked over to her friend wearing all black, but yet she still didn't fit into this place. Baptista was too angelic looking to belong in a club that revolved its look amongst the dead. But at least she wouldn't be that noticed in the dark nightclub.

"Sorry, I had car problems again. I really need to get a new car." She sat next to Frankie and got herself a drink. "I've been working on a few new projects."

Frankie took a sip of her own drink. "Really?" She said pretending she had little interest as she was staring off into space.

Baptista shook her head. Sometimes she hated the way Frankie would say things because they usually never came out the way she wanted them. But she was beginning to get used to it. "Yes, it's of the Norse Goddess Hel, some of the Grim Reaper, and of some demons and vampires." She looked over to one of the owners of the store. Holly was her name then she looked over to Frankie again. "Holly's having me do them for her private collection."

"Hmm... Hel sounds really good. You've got to show me when you're done." Frankie said finally looking Baptista somewhat in the face. "It must be pretty amazing to be painting for someone's private collection, especially a woman like Holly."

The two looked over at the mid-thirty ghost looking woman. Her long straight black hair went down to her waist, and she wore more black makeup than Frankie did. Black eyeliner, black mascara, black lipstick, black nail polish, then it went on to her black clothes, and silver rings lined with onyx stones. Holly the Queen of Black was what Baptista called her.

"Amazing isn't the word for it, but close. There are no words for what I feel with my talent becoming public and being so successful." Baptista said. "Everything around is so cloudy and slow, but clear and fast, it is so much like a dream."

Frankie laughed. "I love it when you talk like that man. You know you should write some of those things down."

Baptista laughed and put her glass to her lips. For a moment she thought she saw Aloysia come through the door into the club, but when she opened her eyes no one was there. She didn't know why she just had that little dream, but she really wished it would come true.

The young vampire with the bright blue eyes and lovely blonde hair left the museum and was on his way to the Goth Nightclub. He was so spent on finding this Baptista Carterson, but in the mean time he would catch himself a nice little snack.

Gothic people were somewhat easy for him to capture. They lived in death like he did, but only for pretend. Michael loved the taste of the bold ones who weren't afraid of death and when they found out he was a vampire they wanted to become one. Then he would just laugh in their faces and bite down deep into their necks. But the wannabes were even more fun, seeing their fake boldness, and love for death, and when he had them in his claws they begged for their lives.

Michael went through the doors and into the dark false night of the nightclub. He looked about who would be perfect for his nightly meal. First he looked to the bar, and saw a few people there but one person caught his eye. Someone who didn't quite belong there, with normal looking skin, and lovely looking makeup. Instead of the harsh blackness and deathlike appearance of everyone else.

A definite angel in the night, her face perked up with expression as she talked. Her hands quite active as she got more excited. There next to her was someone he'd be used to seeing in this place. What made her so special to make this lovely angel girl into the Goth Nightclub?

"Hello." He said in his calm English accent, as he approached both Frankie and Baptista. "My name is Michael, how are you two lovely's doing tonight?"

Frankie looked to Baptista as if to say Let this one be mine, then looked over to Michael. "We're fine. I'm Frankie and this is my friend Tista."

He raised an eyebrow and looked abruptly to Baptista. "As in Baptista? Baptista Carterson?" He said smoothly.

Frankie quietly groaned.

"Yes. That's me." She said barely above a whisper.

So this is the creature that made those wonders, He thought. She was obviously human, but he wondered why she was given the gift of being able to capture a vampire's essence like that in paint. How badly he wanted to have her as his meal, but there were things he wanted to know about this young woman. He looked back over to Frankie; she'd be perfect.

"Your art is wonderful." He said. "I saw some tonight at the museum."

"Thank you." She said, admiring his looks and accent. Though she knew he wasn't the type for her. More like the type for Frankie. Though his blue eyes were so hypnotizing.

Michael called Holly over, he obviously must have known her, and ordered a special drink that she held underneath the bar. The Last Kiss, he called it. It was thick and syrupy, red like blood. Baptista looked over to Frankie as she curled up her nose at it. Holly poured a cap full of Vodka in the glass and stirred it up.

"That looks...so thick." Frankie said.

"Special concoction for special people." He said.

After a while talking small talk with Michael, Baptista got quite bored considering that Frankie and him were doing all the talking. Michael wanted to just be speaking with his little creature Baptista; she filled him with such curiosity, but their conversations would remain private. He didn't want to share her with anyone.

"I've got to go Frankie." Baptista said. "It's almost 2 A.M. and I've got work tomorrow."

"Yeah I know. I'll see you later." She said not really paying any attention towards Baptista.

Michael looked at Frankie harshly. She was so rude to Baptista, and even though he just met this talented young lady, he knew she didn't deserve such treatment. But he didn't show what he was feeling on his face.

"Goodbye Michael, it was nice meeting you." Baptista put out her hand for him to shake.

He shook it gently, then brought it to his lips and kissed her hand softly. His lips felt so icy, it sent chills up her. He loved the little look of shock that ran through her face.

"It was of course nice to meet such a beautiful young lady, who makes such beautiful artwork." He said.

With that Baptista left the Goth Nightclub, waving to Holly and Trent, Holly's husband who had just arrived as she went by.

Michael then looked to Frankie as he sipped from his glass. Although it was blood, it wasn't the same as if coming from a real live person. "Why are you so harsh to Baptista?"

"Why do you think that?" Frankie said. "I'm only trying to give the girl a backbone. If it wasn't for me she wouldn't have her art in that museum."

"Oh I see." Michael said meeting his eyes to hers. "You're jealous."

"I am not!" Frankie said with such anger, proving to Michael and herself, that she definitely was.

Michael began to twist with Frankie's mind with his eyes. Using his vampiric powers on the gothic young woman. Frankie all a sudden had the over whelming feeling of wanting to be with him, and she was feeling really tired.
 
"Michael!" Holly said. "It's not up to me what you do, but not here! Take that outside."

He slightly growled at her, but he looked at the black painted fingernail as it was pointing to the door. He looked over to Frankie that was staring at him lovingly, as if he was the one her soul belonged to. He grabbed Frankie by the arm and led her outside, staring sternly at Holly as he went out to his car.

He leaned over and kissed Frankie, lulling her more into his trap. He stared deep into her eyes as their lips broke apart. He leaned back in as if to kiss her again, but put his lips to her ears. "You belong to me." He said so quiet, that it seemed like he was just lip syncing the words.

He started his car and went off into the night. He would need some privacy for his kill. He pulled up to a lovely mansion where he did not live alone. It was his best friend's house, Lance Davis, another vampire. He pulled into the garage and stared at Frankie as the car went out as he turned the key.

"You belong to me Frankie." He said as he kissed her again. "And soon will Baptista..."

She didn't say a word, but he knew she was truly devoted to him, her soul was his. She was so warm, as he touched her shoulders. He tilted her head and went down to bite deep into her neck when the car door flew open.

"Don't you dare Michael!" Screamed an all too familiar voice.

Michael growled and looked up at the dark eyed man in his early twenties. Not only was he angry that his kill was interrupted, and this idiot had ripped his door completely off. He held the door in his hand as if it was a dangling limb he had torn off.

"Abivin, what are you doing here?" Michael said ready to tear him apart.

"You know what I'm doing here." He said. "To stop this madness."

"You can't stop me. You can't stop us, no matter how many you recruit."  Michael said as Frankie was being lifted from his spell.

"What am I doing here?" She said as if she had been drunk.

"Please, young lady, come with me, you're in danger being with this man." Abivin said going towards her to take her away from Michael.
 
"What?" She said in shock as she looked at Michael.

Michael bent down faster than Frankie's eyes could comprehend. He bit down deep into her neck, sucking her blood rapidly as she began to scream. Abivin pulled her from Michael's hold and held her to him, then rushed out of the garage.

Michael wiped the blood off his face with his black sleeve; he glared at Abivin's back as it ran away into the house. There was no way that he would be able to convince Lance to not take human lives. Lance liked it too much; he was surprised that he was even allowed here. Unless Lance had plans for him, and he didn't know anything about it because he was out on his hunt.

"You've got to protect my friend." Frankie gasped. "He's going to go after her."

Abivin stopped. He looked down at Frankie and knew it was too late for her now. She was beginning to die. "What's your friend's name?" He said softly, yet fast.

"Baptista... Baptista Carterson. You have to protect her, she's..." Frankie gasped as blood poured from her mouth. "She's so naïve and young. He'd get her, I know he would. You've got to save her."

"Don't worry I will." He said, knowing her time was only mere moments now.

"She's an artist." Frankie said. "The best I know, she's done work for Holly McPherson, she owns the Goth Nightclub..."

"Alright, I'll get to her before Michael does." He said as Frankie took her last gasping breath.

He put her down on the ground knowing that he couldn't do anything more for her. He felt so bad leaving her there, but there wasn't anything left to do but follow that girl's wishes, and find Baptista Carterson before Michael did. Besides he knew Lance was going to try and kill him tonight.

"Lance what in the hell were you thinking bringing that bastard into our home?!" Michael yelled as he stopped into the den.

"You know I was going to kill him." Lance said with arrogance, his green eyes flickering in the tone. "Now he's probably long gone now, and he's going to fill more young vampires with nonsense."

"He interrupted me during a kill." Michael said calmly, but obviously annoyed. "Why didn't you call me and tell me that thing was here?"

"I couldn't get a hold of you. You know you turn your ring off when you're on a kill. And let me guess your phone was in the backseat of your car the whole time?" Lance said.

He must have been reading Michael's mind because that was exactly how it was. He didn't say anything, because he couldn't admit he was wrong. He just stomped off into his room. Trashing it with his rage, papers and clothes flying everywhere.

"Hello." Abivin said in his calm soothing voice. "I need to speak with Holly McPherson."

The Queen of Black stood there staring at him and smiled. She knew he was a vampire, but he seemed so warm. His presence just flooded that feeling towards her. Though his voice was full of urgency.

"I am Holly McPherson." She said.

"Thank God. I need to know where Baptista Carterson is. She's in danger." He said.

"It's Michael isn't it?" She said as if she had the power to read minds like his kind. "He killed Frankie didn't he?"

Abivin nodded. "Please I need to get to her before he does."

"Why? Do you want this girl for yourself?" Holly said, slightly smiling. "Man, that girl is getting the attention a lot these days... isn't she."

Abivin looked at Holly with disgust. "No! I'm trying to save her life!"

"Well, I'd like her alive as well. She hasn't finished the art I paid her to do. I'd hate to waste the money." She said.

"How could you-" He stopped. He didn't have time to debate on morals. "Please tell me where she is."

"She went home. She has work in the morning." She said reaching down into her black purse to find Baptista's card. "Here is her address."

Abivin didn't have time to copy it down; he grabbed it from her hand and flew out the door, and into his car. He didn't know this town that well, but he had to find her. He drove recklessly on the road until he found Baptista's street. He pulled into her driveway.

Pounding and the sound of the doorbell ringing filled Baptista's head until she became conscious again. She glared at the bedroom door as if that were where the noise was coming from. She got up from her bed and walked down the stairs. She looked through her peephole to see a man she's never seen before, and was a little afraid to answer the door. But his face seemed frightened, so maybe he was in trouble and needed her to dial the police, so she opened it.

As soon as she opened the door he rushed inside, and shut the door behind him. He looked at Baptista; she was really beautiful, at least in his eyes.

"Baptista?" He said.

"Yes? Who are you? Are you okay?" She said, looking more worried for him than anything.

"Have you seen Michael since he was at the nightclub?" He said.

"No? Are you one of his friends? What's going on?" She said getting worried even more that it went into her voice.

"No! He's not one of my friends. He's after you. Please you might want to sit down." He looked into the darkened living room.

She turned on the light and was surprised to see how handsome he was. He fidgeted with his shirt nervously as she sat down next to him. She put her hand on his shoulder to get his attention back to her so she would know what was going on.

"Who are you?" She said. "And why is Michael after me?"

"My name is Abivin, and Michael is a murderer." He took in a deep breath. "He killed your friend Frankie."

"What?!" She said as sheer horror pasted her face, and all the colour ran from it.

"Now he's after you. I caught him trying to kill your friend, but it was too late. And Frankie told me to protect you." He said staring deeply into her blue eyes.

"We've got to go to the police!" She said getting ready to run to her phone.

"No!" He said pulling her back down.

His strength frightened her, no one ever held her down like that. She ripped her arm away from his, which then shocked him. She stared at him harshly, but truly was afraid of him, since he didn't want her to call the police.

"How did he kill Frankie?" She said. "Why did he kill her?!"

Abivin sat in silence for a moment. He was about to tell her the truth; he couldn't lie to her. Then he stared into her eyes, how much they were like the sky that was threatened with a rainstorm. He could tell that she was much stronger than Frankie had said, but he would do the right thing and protect this girl, but he knew she wasn't safe here anymore.

"Do you believe in vampires?" He asked, looking away from her because he was afraid of her reaction.

Baptista gasped, from the feelings she got from Michael in the nightclub, where like those of Aloysia, but much, much darker. Why hadn't she seen that before? She felt so guilty in a way, because maybe she could have saved Frankie, but a lot good that would have done. Frankie wouldn't listen to her anyway.

"Yes I believe in vampires. They haunt my dreams, and even when I'm not asleep they still haunt me. Or haven't you seen my artwork?" She said.

Abivin looked up at her with surprise. The tired look in her eyes wasn't from being awakened up in the middle of the night, but were from the haunting visits of vampires in her life.

"Could I see your art?" He said.

She knew that he wasn't going to hurt her, so she grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs into a room and she turned on the light. Before him stood wonders beyond compare, creatures of rare design. Then his eyes came across two people he knew so well, and he held them very dear to him, Heléna and Aloysia.

"Aloysia... Heléna..." He said walking over to the pictures.

"You know Aloysia Richer?" Baptista said, her hair raising on the back of her neck. "She really is a vampire isn't she?"

Abivin nodded. "Heléna came to you in your dreams?"

"Yes. Tell me, who is Heléna? Aloysia was so struck when she saw this painting." Baptista came over next to him.

"Heléna's the one who made Aloysia into a vampire over 150 years ago." He said. "She was a dear friend of mine..." He trailed off into his words and then looked over to Baptista.

"You're a vampire too... and so is Michael. Michael ate Frankie..." She backed away from him and collapsed into her chair and began to cry.

"Don't worry I won't let him hurt you. Neither will Aloysia... unlike most vampires her and I, and a few handful of others do not kill." He said sitting next to her and put his arms around her.

"I don't know who to believe... but I trust you." She said rubbing her face deeply into his shoulder.

"Good. I need to get you out of here, but we have to wait until dark." He said looking at his digital watch. "Can I stay here?"

Baptista nodded. "It's not like you could go anywhere else though, right?"

Abivin smiled. "You might want to pack while I sleep. We will leave by nightfall and we will see Aloysia."

A happiness went through Baptista for a moment. She was going to be with Aloysia again, Abivin had the same magnetism that she did. She held on to him still as she wept for Frankie though. He quietly hummed his old lullaby to comfort her as he stroked her long red hair that flowed down her back. She felt like falling asleep right in his arms.

They slowly laid down on the couch, she was still snuggled into his shoulder, and halfway his chest. She had stopped crying, but he hadn't stopped humming and stroking her hair. His voice was so lovely and smooth, and he smelled like sweet incense. She soon fell asleep in this comfort and he smiled.

He couldn't understand how quickly she trusted him. Maybe Frankie was right after all, or maybe she was just so used to vampires haunting her that it was nothing encountering one in the physical world. He continued humming and stroking her hair even though she was asleep, and he did so until he fell asleep himself.