AN/ Thank you for taking your time and reading my story. I'm sorry if it is a bit confusing. More will be explained later. Please review and tell me what you think.

I shook my head. How in the world does an orphan inherit a mansion? The mansion was beautiful, of course but it still remained a mystery to me as I smoothed out the picture of my new home. I live in Angel Orphanage, a poor place with too many occupants. My "room" used to be a closet to the room next door. As I lay on my bed, my feet hang at the edge of the mattress and I could hear the younger kids playing upstairs.

My alarm clock moved an inch from the shelf every time the kids jumped around, but I eventually got used to it. The younger kids got better rooms and better care than the older kids. It was so that they would get adopted if someone unfortunately came here. No one wants to adopt a child over the age of thirteen, and I was sixteen.

I got up from my bed and I hit my head against the ceiling. I have to crouch down every time I walk in my room, even if I am 5 feet 4 inches tall. The ceiling was a couple of inches lower than that. I grabbed my suitcase from the side of the door and it was light.

I didn't have many things to take with me. I know that I'm probably too young to live by myself, but I can't stand to live in this place anymore. I love the younger children, and I'll miss so many of these faces that I have seen since childhood, but I want to live a life of freedom.

I hailed a taxi when I got outside, the mansion would be too far by foot. The ride felt extremely long, but I didn't look at the time. There were so many trees that passed by, it made me nauseous. We left the city of Seattle, Washington and came to a small town whose name I was familiar with, Forks. This is the same setting of my favorite book, Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. This was one of the biggest reasons that I wanted to come to my new home; I never had a good reason to come here, besides my love for the book.

"Hey, are you sure this is the place?" the taxi driver asked. I noticed that we were in a suburban area and the place we were parked in front of was the same as my picture.

"Yeah, thanks." I mumbled as I got out with my luggage. I handed the man money and he drove away. I sighed when it started to rain. I didn't think of it as an omen, just unavoidable. Forks is located in the Olympic Peninsula, the rainiest place in America.

" Hi there, you're the kid who got this place?" a pudgy, bald man with a white moustache asked.

"Yes."

"Boy, do I feel sorry for you. You aren't seriously going in, are you?"

"Actually, I'm going to live here. Is that a problem?" I asked annoyed.

"It's a problem for anyone who goes in." He walked up half the pathway to the house and I noticed a rusty board hanging on the side. Suddenly, the wind howled and lightning danced across the sky. The house had changed somehow and it was ominous. Its elegant features seemed dark, haunted.

"Dameon Refuge? Strange name for a mansion," I commented, trying to distract myself from the dark aura of the house.

"You think that's strange," he mumbled. He was rummaging through the bushes until he pulled out a wooden board and held it out to show me:

Dameon Refuge: where souls never leave

"My advice kid, don't go. Everyone who went in there either came out mentally sick, severely injured, both of these or dead. I'd bet money that you'll come out mentally sick and missing your arms," he actually chuckled and dropped the board back into the bushes. Chills ran down my spine and goose bumps rose from my skin, but I had to prove this guy wrong. He just made me so angry.

"Thanks, but I'll take my chances." The man narrowed his eyes and walked away, mumbling something about kids never listening to him. After he left, I heard a sudden sound behind me. Someone was humming the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", I slowly turned and I swallowed hard.

I saw a small girl who was probably six. Her chocolate-colored hair was up in pigtails and her frilly pink dress looked like a checkerboard with pink and white squares. She was spinning around until her blue eyes met mine. I could have sworn that she was a younger version of me. The same sapphire eyes and brown hair, but that wasn't what frightened me. Her arms were covered with scars, but her pale face was unharmed. She began dancing around me.

"Are you going in?" she laughed, her voice sounded like bells.

"Yes," my voice trembled; it sounded distant, like it wasn't me talking. I couldn't help but stare at her scars. I noticed that under her stockings, there was also a series of scars.

"Dameon's in there. Don't go in." She stopped circling me and she stood in front of me. She was moving her head from left to right, like a pendulum.

"Dameon?"

"Yeah, he lets me go, but he doesn't let anyone else in. He gets so angry when someone else goes in. He tells me never to go far from the house, though. I can only play out here and in there."

"Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go in. I really need to get over with this and I've had a really long day." I turned away from her and began walking up the path.

"Your day will only get longer Sophia," she laughed. I turned back to see that she was gone. How did she know my name and what did she mean by what she said?

"Hey, girl! Who you talking to?" the old man I saw earlier was walking back.

"There was this little girl. Have you seen where she went?"

"You crazy? There was no one else here! I heard you say 'Yes', 'Dameon' and something about having a long day. You're going mental before even going in the house!" he laughed.

"What are you talking about? She was right there!" I screamed. This neighborhood was making me go crazy.

"I was watching you the whole time, girl. There wasn't anyone else there but you!" The man looked serious and I was about listen to him and leave this big mansion but then again, I don't really want to go back to Angel Orphanage. This time there will be no more distractions. I'm going in if it is the last thing I do. I ignored the man and I finally reached the front doors of the mansion. The doors were a twist of metals that were gray and black and they were rusty in some places. The doors were huge, roughly twenty feet or so. I reached into my pocket and brought out the key. I inserted the key and slowly turned it. This was it, this place is my home, and whatever happened was all in my head. I turned around and I saw the old man shake his head and walk away. I turned back to the door. What if that little girl was real? No, the old man was probably right, I was just going crazy. The door to the right creaked open. I took a long breath and pushed the door open. It didn't look like anything I expected.

"This place is a dump," I said out loud, I flicked the light switch at my side. I assumed that this was the living room, but I highly doubt anyone could live here. There were spider webs hanging like drapes over every visible surface. I could see spiders crawling everywhere, but some were hanging from the hideously large webs. Rats scurried quickly across the disgusting brown floor; I doubt that the floor was brown to begin with. There was furniture that was covered with plastic and I was surprised to see that all the furniture was intact. There was a chandelier dangling above, it appeared to be dancing and the blinking light bulbs attached were hypnotizing to watch. I walked up to the long staircase and began climbing up the staircase. I walked slowly, afraid that a stair would collapse under my weight. I didn't dare to touch the banister it seemed like termites were gnawing through it.

Suddenly, I heard faint music.

It was the melody of "Pop Goes the Weasel" played by…bells? The tune was so rhythmic, so mesmerizing, I couldn't help but follow it. As I walked closer and closer to the top of the staircase, the music became faster. I quickened my pace; the music was just so beautiful. I matched my breathing and my steps to the melody of the music, even as it got faster and faster. I finally reached the top of the steps and there were just so many doors. My heart was racing and my head was throbbing. I had to find the source of the music. I decided to go to the left, where the music echoed through the halls, by this time I was running. I noticed that at the end of the hallway, there was a closed door with light peeking through. Yes, that was where the entrancing music came from. I rushed to the door and I touched the knob. I quickly brought my hand back. It was only static shock, I decided. I quickly turned the doorknob.

The room appeared to be a library because there were shelves of books everywhere I looked. The room had high ceilings and a huge carpet on the ground. There was also a collection of long samurai-styled swords that hung in glass cases. Even so, the room was bright, but I couldn't find where the light was coming from. In the middle of a large, expensive looking carpet were a desk and a black-leather swivel chair.

"Sofie!" A voice called, this voice---it sounded like velvet.

"Look Dameon! I can spell my name, S-O-F-I-E. Isn't that great?" I saw the little girl that I was talking to outside. Strangely, all her scars were gone. Did I imagine thescars?

"Yes, that's nice," I realized that the voice was coming from the swivel chair. I didn't think that the chair itself was talking, but then again, the way my day was going, anything seemed possible.

"Dameon, play with me?" Sofie smiled.

"Sofie, didn't I tell you that guests aren't allowed?" he answered smoothly, ignoring her request.

"It wasn't me! Honest." She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Her gaze shifted and her eyes met mine. Every inch of my body pleaded with me, I had to move.

"There's no point in leaving, since you already came in. I can smell the adrenaline from here," Dameon chuckled. My throat felt dry and my muscles stiffened. I realized that the music had stopped playing and my heart raced. The atmosphere that was once bright and warm filled me with terror and despair. Dameon turned himself to face me. He had one leg over the other and both hands rested on the handles of the chair. He was beautiful.

His brown hair was probably up to his shoulders, but it was hard to tell because he tied it to the back. His skin was pale and almost translucent. There were no blemishes on his perfect skin. He was dressed in a black short-sleeved shirt that hugged his muscular features and dark jeans. My eyes met his burgundy colored eyes and a shock ran through me.

"What are you doing here?" My voice cracked as I asked.

"I can ask you the same thing," he said, looking bored.

"This is MY house. I inherited it and I live here now, why are you here?" I asked, annoyed. My voice was picking up and I grew more confident.

"My name is Dameon, but of course you knew that," he said and I knew he was about to tell me about himself, this was what all the villains did in movies and books.

"I am a hundred-seventeen years old and I know what you are thinking. You are thinking: How can he be that old and look so young?You see, I am a vampire and vampires are immortal," his eyes glinted with humor. "Garlic does not kill me, but I can't eat what humans eat. I don't disintegrate in the sun, but I do dislike the going out in bright weather. I don't sleep in coffins because I don't sleep at all. Yes, I drink blood -preferably human blood- but I drink the blood of animals. I don't believe in harming a human if he or she is innocent. Animal blood-it just doesn't sustain the hunger. It's like drinking water for the rest of your life and every time you nourish yourself, you crave something more. I have tried suicide- drowning, stabbing myself, poison- it just doesn't work, nothing does. Many even think that vampires have no souls, that we wander the earth with no heart and honestly, I believe that this is true. Although I don't usually talk to others, just the misfortunate souls that come here and that's to tell them this story. I think that you should know a little about your murderer before you die," he smiled, "Any more questions?"

"Well, out of curiosity, why this- I mean MY- house? Don't you have some vampire community? What about Sofie? Why is she here with you? Where did she come from?" Not only did this man-vampire, I corrected myself- fascinate me, he also scared me. I have never been this scared in my whole life, but my curiosity overcomes the danger I felt in his presence. Not even when he smiled and his fangs glinted in the light.

"I was raised in this house," he stated simply. "My father built this house before

I was even born and yes, there are towns filled with my kind, but where's the fun in that?" He laughed, "As for Sofie-Sofie what are you doing?" my head turned to where Sofie was standing.

Sofie had a pocketknife in her hand. She moved it back and forth, until the gleaming metal blinded my eyes. She positioned the knife above her finger and with swift thrust, she cut off the tip of her finger. Blood dripped from the child's finger and she merely laughed. Her eyes grew wider, along with her mouth and she began laughing hysterically. Her expression reminded me of the times I tickled the other kids in the orphanage, when I was younger.

Sofie began slicing her finger, the way someone's mom would be cutting a carrot. I looked at Dameon, but his face had no signs of dread, only of amusement. Sofie was finished with her finger and began chopping her hand. Blood literally cascaded down to the floor, it reminded me of Niagara Falls. The child only continued to laugh harder, even when blood dripped from her throat to her mouth.

"Sofie, you'll stain the carpet," Dameon said in a bored manner. I was furious at him. How could someone-a human, vampire or any other creature- stand by and watch this. Why isn't he stopping her? Why am I not stopping her? My mind probably wasn't functioning correctly because I punched a glass case and thrust a sword at Dameon's direction. He was quicker.

"I know, you feel it's your duty to protect Sofie but, you thought you could actually fight me? I applaud your courage Sophia." He sliced my already bloody fist and with a rapid movement, he licked some of the blood from my wrist.

"You disgusting monster!" I couldn't stop fighting. I wanted to stop fighting, but there was some paranormal force that kept me going. I took a quick glance at Sofie, who was done cutting her left arm and her bone was visible from its socket. I looked at the floor surrounding her. There were muscles and bones and the muscles were actually…moving. Like little cockroaches, her detached body was crawling on the ground.

I did not notice the blinking lights. Sofie looked up and her eyes were colorless. Her eyes were blank and I could not help but scream. I ignored everything else, I had to make Sofie stop. It was like she was apart of me, she seemed so significant. I remembered my contempt for Dameon. How could he just watch her do this? How could he---

I turned back to Dameon who was licking his sword clean. I didn't even remember when he had gotten a sword. Then I looked at my hand and realized that he was the one holding my sword and he had cut through my sides and stomach. When did all that happen? I didn't feel any of it but the sensation of blood on my skin made me feel more powerful, if not more confident. To my shock, I enjoyed blood on my arms and I wiped the back of my hand to my mouth. I also enjoyed blood on my lips.

"Sophia, I guess this is the end." Dameon laughed. It occurred to me that I never knew who declared me heir to this mansion, I don't know who gave this place to me. My parents, I do not remember ever seeing them. But why, why I am I drawn to Sofie? Who is she? Too late now, I decided. Black oblivion overcame me.