A/N: I have been sitting on this story for a while, and I figured it was finally time for me to let it out. Mind you, it's going to seem a bit confusing at first, because this takes place a few years after they became human again, but I promise it will be explained later on.

-x-x-x-

My feet pounded against the cold grass and dirt as I dodged around headstones and small trees.

Who the hell came up with planting trees in a cemetery? It's not like the dead is going to need to get away from the sun for a while.

I tried to peer through the thick fog as I raced through the cemetery, only able to see a few feet in front of me.

Fog in a cemetery; how cliché. Already this was getting a little old.

What the hell was I running from anyways?

I stumbled over an ancient headstone, my coordination failing me in the time that I needed it most.

Before I even had a chance to turn around, I felt a pair of cold hands grab my waist, yanking me upwards. Pain searing through my hips as it jerked upwards, while the rest of my body tried desperately to keep up with it.

"Gotcha." His voice, icy and amused, tickled my ear as his lips brushed over the base of it.

I'll admit, I felt pretty terrified. Hell, who wouldn't be?

I mean, if some mysterious person was chasing you through a horribly cliché night scene, and caught you, wouldn't you be freaked out?

The pain I felt next was beyond anything I had ever experienced.

I could feel sharp fangs sinking into my neck, sucking the liquid life from my veins.

I cried out, throwing my head back and thrashing around. This only seemed to amuse him further, as he chuckled into my throat.

A trickle of blood slid down my neck slowly, taunting me with its reminder that, at any moment, I was going to die.

Feeling my life slowly fading away, I let out one last horrible cry of agony, allowing my voice to pierce the frosty November air.

-x-x-x-

"Yo, Count Freakula, shut the hell up!" An irritated voice shouted as my eyes flew open. It was then that I realized that I was trapped in a tangle of sheets and blankets, and screaming my head off.

One of the twins, Ecko, stood leaning against my doorframe, looking rather pissed.

His brown hair was a mess upon his head, half concealing his infuriated sleepy glare. Gray eyes traveled around my room briefly, across the band posters and bookshelf consisting of almost nothing but vampire books, until they returned to me.

"You realize for the past ten minutes you have been screaming bloody murder. I wouldn't be surprised if you've woken up every person in the United States." He snapped, trying hard to suppress a yawn.

Wyatt, his twin, soon appeared by his side, looking like he had just dragged himself out of bed.

His own brown hair stood up widely as tired blue eyes starred at me in hazy confusion.

"She finally shut up." He mumbled, his eyes drooping as he gave a half-hearted smirk.

"Oh shut up and go back to bed." I growled, throwing one of my pillows at them.

Ecko slammed the door shut before the pillow reached them and stormed back to his room, grumbling angrily.

I sighed, running a hand through wild black curls, thinking back to the dream.

It was the fifth time this week that I've had that dream.

It had to mean something, but I couldn't figure out what. Ecko had suggested that maybe my obsession with vampires was starting to get to me.

Of course, that comment had only earned him one of my nastiest glares, which he had shrugged of easily.

Rolling off the little mattress and onto the soft beige carpet, I glanced around my room.

Everything looked so depressing and dejected, packed up in boxes like this.

We were moving today, and all I had left to pack was my posters and books.

Honestly, I was a bit excited. We were moving to an amazing house in Scotland, and the scenery is supposed to be pretty epic.

-x-x-x-

I starred out the window of the airplane, though we seemed to be surrounded by heavy clouds. It almost seemed…foggy.

Images of my oh so lovely dreamed flashed before me, dancing on the clouds.

Sighing, I sunk further into the chair, wriggling with impatience.

We had always moved around quite a lot, but mom promised that we would be here permanently.

I had seen some pictures of Scotland in my research, and it does look rather amazing.

Yet, what fascinates me most are the tales. Tales of vampires.

"Miss, may I get you anything? A drink, some roasted peanuts, perhaps?" A flight attendant asked, breaking me from my revere.

I sighed, looking up at her as she peered at me, a too fake smile plastered on her face. I felt a shred of sympathy for the women, having to deal with all sorts of people every day.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." I replied, smiling wearily at her.

Without a word, she straightened up and continued on down the row, repeating the question to just about everyone she came across.

Glancing at the clock on my phone, I smiled to myself.

Just two more excruciating hours. Before I know it, my brothers and I will be fighting over rooms, and my mother will be picking out what room to use as her art studio.

I have to admit, having a carefree, artsy mom can be pretty fucking awesome sometimes.

A/N: I apologize for the basic failure of the post. I've never been very good at starting stories, but there you are. At least with that out of the way, I can start getting to the good part. I'm actually hoping to have a second chapter up by tonight, at least.

And yes, please review. xD I really love it when I get reviews that offer helpful tips, or offer ideas for future chapters. (: