DISCLAIMER: I don't own Trueblood or any of the characters. I know right, shocker.

It was really inexplicable. The air had the same humid, summery night-time heat as it had always, the chorus of the frogs in the surrounding shrubbery were exactly the same as the one's she'd been sang as a child, and the crowd in Merlotte's was its usual boisterous self, recuperating after a long day's work with familiar grins and chilly beer. And yet, behind her stellar server's smile and ladylike Southern composure, Sookie Stackhouse couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

With practiced grace and friendliness, she delivered meals to patrons, dropping off pitchers and cocktails and keeping up with Arlene to make sure everything was getting taken care of. Focusing on her work, and pushing the unwelcome thoughts of others from floating into her mind, the girl tried to distract herself from the distinct sense of unease that July night…but she couldn't fully ignore her highly developed instincts, the sense of foreboding they seemed to instill. The girl forced herself to think only of the ever increasing dinner rush. Hopefully it was nothing. But then again, knowing their luck in Bon Temps, it wouldn't be.

(Hours before)

It was a wonder camp was even a secret, considering how loudly and horribly the alarms were sounding that night.

The entire perimeter was ablaze with movement. Trained, armed officials, in file, raced swiftly through rehearsed patterned movements. Uniformed employees in lab coats filed into properly lit and defended rooms as per safety regulations. In the hallways, lights flashed and vision was compromised. The massive metal doors between the sectors and around the facility began to descend, closing off those inside from the outside world, isolating them. A monotone female voice sounded through the announcement system, its calmness deceptive to the chaos surrounding.

"Warning. Warning. Code X- 419. Number Seventeen has breached. Facility quarantine. Warning. Code X-419."

Gunned men separated the defenseless scientists from the direction of the oncoming threat, kneeling in the positions they'd been trained to carry, lifting their heavy guns toward a rising elevator at the end of the hallway. The numbers on the elevator display began to decrease as whatever was inside travelled toward their floor. Beads of sweat collected under their helmets and their hearts beat viciously.

"Warning. Security Breach. Code X-419"

The air was unbearably tense. Mutters of confusion and advice came upon the human security team. They'd been trained for vampires, but this was different. "Don't get close to it, they said within 7 feet." one advised another. "Don't let anything drop near it, I heard…"

The elevator stopped. The door opened. "Warning, Warning."

With a collective yell the team began to fire, a dozen of them or so shielding them from a few scientists apparently paralyzed with fear, never having seen this type of breach before, unable to tear away.

UV and silver bullets alike rained almost instantly upon the figure in the elevator door as it slowly opened. "Security breach. Code X-419. Deactivate all exits. Warning."

Several seconds of ear-splitting noise and gunfire, followed by a strained pause, and then the faint crumbling of the walls that had been damaged behind it. The smoke began to clear. Slowly, something became visible through the destruction, a pale figure stepping slowly forward. Not fast like a vampire, but ghostly white. It looked underweight, hungry, female, naked. Void of body hair, and an ominous metal obstruction covering the face and eyes, a utilitarian facility-regulated headpiece. It looked cumbersome and heavy, completely shielding the monster's visage from view, hiding her hair. She moved slowly. She was tiny, not very tall, maybe 5 '7, slender. Her feet made little noise but she did not zoom forward.

She looked weak, but unharmed. In front of her stood a pattern of frozen silver dots…the bullets, those that would have hit her, it, suspended in midair. After remaining frozen for some seconds, they began falling to the floor in a collection of small sounds and chimes. Her footsteps continued forward, and she remained unscathed.

"Keep shooting!" "We have to reload!" "Regroup! "Warning. Warning."

Something rolled out from behind her in the elevator, seemingly on its own. A black ballpoint pen. "Code X-419."

In a flash it was gone, and one man noticed his partner cry out, fall to the ground. He saw the pattern of blood in the air as it flew from his punctured eye almost in slow motion. By the time they'd registered one had died it had been too late. Another ran up in rage at seeing a comrade fall, lifting his gun to strike the being in the face manually with a primal scream. She'd gotten too close. His head flew. His heart erupted out of his ribcage, severed, intact, onto the chest of a screaming colleague. The monster's figure showed little connection to these atrocities. Unperturbed, silent, devoted, she walked on.

"Number seventeen has escaped. Secure the perimeter."

Blood poured. Bodies imploded carefully, horribly, ribs gnashing into leg muscles, innards squelching onto the once sterile floor, screams gurgling and becoming raspy within moments. Attempts to run, failed. Silence. "Warning. Warning."

The groan of the silver-infused metal doors closing down on the last sliver of hope for freedom. The monster's wet feet, bloody, running through the hall, ignoring the evidence and cameras, ducking from the building, toward the fence, the woods, the water, the world.

"Number seventeen has escaped."

Her sigh of relief was inaudible due to the heavy helmet. The murderer ran for it, nude, ignoring how the twigs tore at her revealed soles, how her body was unshielded and blind. Freedom. Freedom. The only thought.

"Kill her." Several floors up, a sniper focuses and takes fire. The bullet is silent. The killer gasps as her helmet is cracked, shatters. A cloud of black hair erupted from the wreckage of the thing, and despite knowing the worst, the female kept running, not letting her body be bogged by the quickly rising levels of pain in her forehead, her heart that was beginning to beat alarmingly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Don't die now. So close. And she ran, and bleeding, naked, in the woods, she reached the end of the strip, seeing where the island of her prison meets the water. The pallid being stopped at the shoreline, blood cascading down her face, unable to compute what to do next but just barely being able to make out the blur of city lights on the opposite side through her one focusing eye. There's no boat. Without any time to spare, the woman rushed out into the water, straining, feeling its warmth from a long day and evening in the summer heat as it surrounded her worn and destroyed body.

Ignoring the way her waist-length ebony hair began to weigh constrictively and uncomfortably on her fragile form once wet, she waded into the murky depths and tried vainly to swim to the other shoreline. It's not far. It seems her instincts are propelling her, but she's losing a lot of blood, and things aren't going well. Focus comes in and out and things start to fade and get darker. It's so close. She won't make it. Listless, her body drifted out toward the shore, adrenaline and blood leaking everything and reality away from her.

Normally, the music would be deafeningly loud in Fangtasia at this time of the night, as all the creatures of the underworld and overworld alike come out to party. And yet, declined by laws concerning vampire-run business, the once "majestic" club is silent and deserted. Well, deserted but for one, a vampire king come to erase some evidence, to protect his kin and himself. He wasn't bothered by the lack of doofuses in his bar, actually, feeling less than attached to the former dwelling and none too bothered by the fact that he needed to move onto more important pursuits.

It was with faint surprise that he felt a dim presence, like but not unlike his own, wash up onto the shore. The mixture of human and supernatural blood in the air hit him harder, and the vampire's pupils dilated as his fangs extended to the brutally tempting aroma. Something ravenous awoke in him, like a shark smelling blood in the water, drawing him in a second to the harbour. Whatever this thing was, even if it was soggy and barely conscious, it smelled like hot cross buns and icing to him. It smelled like melting brownies fresh from the oven, but in a way that was unfathomably appetizing, being as he'd been turned before the discovery of brownies and never tried one himself. The fragrance was something unimaginable and awoke an animalistic drive in him he struggled to control.

Drawing his tall frame down the Shreveport harbour and lurking with leather on despite the July heat, Eric Northman knew his most blatant instinct was to find this bleeding thing, drain it, and return to his business with a sated urge. But when he saw it, the pale bleeding form washed up on the shoreline a delight to his keen vampire eyes, Eric began to reconsider. In a split second her was there, poring over the creature, and thanking his good fortune that he was the one to witness this, and alone as well.

"Well, well." the vampire mused to himself, grinning, his pale face and glimmering fangs becoming lit as he drew in by the eerie streetlights above. "What have we here? Anything left for me?"

Unphased by her nudity, he felt his instincts pull him close beside her. He breathed in her fading presence, understanding what he could of her story through the vibrant pattern of smells that he could decipher. He smelled the facility, the blood of dead humans, the dust from the UV bullets and the silver in the doors. Opening his mouth slightly, he tasted their suffering, and her own, and the deaths and presences of vampires. The remnants of those materials to him were unpleasant to him but they held a story…a story he needed to understand. But she was so tempting, so vulnerable. And alive.

It took some time to collect his instincts, and the blonde male found himself hovering darkly above her for some seconds as his calculating side forced him to control the side of him that wanted to ecstatically devour her loveliness. He looked for physical clues as to what she was, so unlike a faerie or human or vampire, yet obviously kept in close proximity to his own kind. Time seemed to be of the essence here, as he had better things to be doing than suspending himself over an unconscious bleeding victim on a lit beach where he could at any moment get hassled by stupid cops for being out after curfew.

Drawing his blue eye over her revealed form (too skinny, but passable, alluring breasts and thighs, a deliciously scented heart quivering underneath, masses of long, wet, black hair) he became aware of the way she was paling considerably, slowing her breath. Although it was so unbelievably appealing to drain the thing dead there and leave her, he was much too calculating for that, and had to at least satisfy the curiosity for what this individual was before he sucked her dry. But what could he do? The Viking knew he had to act quickly, feeling her heartbeat beginning to fade, and his own would-be heart breaking at the thought that there would be no more supply of the sweet, alluring blood her face oozed that was driving such an inconvenient insanity into him. Why was this creature so tempting?

It was with some hungry despair that he felt her beginning to die there, unclothed on the deserted harbor, and in a movement he removed his leather and scooped her bloodied form inside, lifting her with ease. She couldn't have weighed more than a buck five, but even if she was much larger he wouldn't have felt it, his strength exaggerated by thousands of years of undead life. Moving with a grace unknown to humans, it took a fraction of a second to be hidden from the abrasive streetlights, although the "saviour" knew there wouldn't be much time to take her further. Eric held her in his lap, almost like a child, supporting her lolling shoulders and head with one arm, the blacks of his eyes still almost overcoming the blue with desire for her barely living form. Not only physically, but intellectually, he was burningly curious for this gorgeously scented thing that he knew could not be a human being, knew had been somewhere and gained information he drastically needed. There might not be another chance. He had to act.

Raising his wrist, he neatly dug his sharpened fangs not into her skin, but his own, drawing his own blood and fighting his nature for the promise of later gratification. It pooled, a deep red, from the fresh wound and he dripped it carefully into her parted lips. From an outsider's perspective it might have seemed a scene of loving compassion, the way he knelt over her little body, shielding her with his coat and fixing his azure gaze on her and nothing else…but it was anything but. It was a war now, and he needed everything he could get, to protect himself and his kin against humans. They would be connected as long as she lived, but he accepted this, it was his only choice. The light-haired vampire let only the amount in that he knew would do the job, sealing the wound with a flash of his tongue and fighting back the desire to tear open her neck and feast on the warmth and loveliness inside. "Wake up, little thing." he soothed carnally with flashing incisors. "We're going to go soon, and you're going to tell me everything.."

Through the haze brought on by the way he craved to take her life then and there, he zoned in on her features, taking in the even-ness of her ivory face, high cheekbones, small waist, wet, hopelessly back hair. Her eyebrows were thick and arched, and the coils of her jet-black tresses marred with dried blood and sand and dirt. The vampire smelled her youth, probably around nineteen, a baby, nothing compared to him. A fruit fly. A fucking tempting delicious juicy fruit fly. He felt the raise in the pace and strength of her heartbeat as if it had been his own, already detecting the oneness with her, trying to use his new presence within her to pinpoint what she was and what to expect as she regained consciousness. Being experienced, he already knew the system of giving his blood and wanted to use it to his advantage in case she was dangerous. Although, with his arms around her, wrapping her in his leather jacket, there wasn't a chance she'd be able to break free from his inhuman strength. Or so he assumed.

A flood of emotions unlike anything he'd expected roamed through him as his mental connection to her mind became exaggerated by her return to the living. The young woman began to stir, and he felt the bloodlust, murderousness, despair, hunger – nothing like that of a human, more like that of his own kind or worse – seeping into his psyche. He felt the ravenousness of a new vampire, but the cold thirst of a power hungry adult, merged into one, in a living thing, a force unlike any he'd known. Rage, combined with his own, trying to overtake him, hunger, a wild drive to kill, blending with his own instincts, bringing out his fangs further, confusing him. It took only seconds, and her eyes began to open, and in the dark he could see them clearly, pale violet, with slit, snakelike pupils, her own lip curling loathingly and wild with kill-need, revealing that she did not have fangs, but through their newly established union Eric knew he had just encountered something not natural and something very, very fucked up.

"Stay. Away." She snarled, and a translucent form flickered in the air behind her, coiling back, and he was feet away a gust of wind but it reached out to him in a flash, slicing into his shoulder faster than he could move. His blood, that he'd so generously given to her moments before, spilled needlessly into the sand. The tall Viking was less than thrilled, seeing the gentlemanliness of his gesture moments before met with such disrespect. She stood quickly, but he observed her faltering, not quite healed although the wound in her head was closing up and no longer threatening her life. The pale indigo of her gaze fixed on him, and he could feel her as she commended her newfound increased-night vision ability, could sense her thrill at the sudden enhance in her powers with vampire blood. His own blue irises narrowed at her reaction. Ungrateful little thing. It was just a small scratch, but still. He'd even let her wear his leather! How silly that she was turning against him now. How intriguing that she dealt with a desire for blood he'd only experienced after death.

"I don't kill vampires." the female commented. Ah. So she wasn't completely unobservant. Her voice was deliberate, paced as if she thought before speaking. "You may not be as awful as a human, but I have nothing to do with you now. Goodbye."

The tall ancient drew himself up straight, feeling the scratch in his form begin to seal and heal, despite being rather deep. He wracked his brain for a memory in his thousands of years of existence that was anything similar to what he'd just experienced. What the fuck had struck him? Oh well, she'd see what she'd have coming. It took almost no time for her to cry out in shock and vicarious pain. The pale girl nearly crumpled again, clutching her own unscathed shoulder with shaking fingers as if she herself had been cut. After what he'd done, by harming him, she was tearing at herself as well. His own cleverness never failed him in he end.

"You're weak." Eric mused, smirking. Her heartbeat was too calm and steady to be that of a human, but he knew whatever she was, she felt it. His own pain, protecting him when he cut her, the snakes of his mind, his own vampiric lust, were all a part of her being now, running with his blood in her system to remain. "You're hungry." So was he. "You have nowhere to go, and, correct me if I'm wrong…" blue eyes, staring, scanning her for any reaction to his words. "…but I doubt you're looking to be sent back to the place from which you've escaped."

Those inhuman, catlike eyes of the newcomer bewitched him, and as much as Eric wanted to rush over and hold her and fuck her naked body and tear her veins out with his fangs, he felt a rising camaraderie, wanting to run with her, to see the world with her, to drink with her and hunt with her and, most of all, to harness what had cut him…he'd sensed that power but had never known it to be this. Realization began to click together in his brain. This killer human-thing was one of a kind, and through the part of him he'd given her Eric Northman knew he'd tapped into an overwhelming source of power and perhaps promise for him. In a way he supposed she was beautiful. He felt her confidence, her thirst, her assuredness, and knew it was only brought on from years of tremendous ability and destruction, from suffering and vengeance and cold-heartednesss, from a taste for cruelty he felt himself wanting to adore. The wisps of her personality that penetrated his system involved him and made his fangs feel prominent in his mouth, craving a taste of her nature, her energy.

From the indecisiveness of her footsteps and the way she paused at his words, he knew he had struck a chord, could see her considering staying, see her understanding that she did not know what to expect of was out there in the world or where to hide or what to hide from. He could tell she did not know how to control her next kill, or how to blend in and protect herself from the forces that had contained and starved her for so long.

From his highly developed senses, the vampire could feel through the energies in his blood that this creature was some sort of telekinetic.

He craved the power, her taste, the time he would draw that energy into his own and gain that power as his own. That asshole Bill-ith would be nothing once he had a few tastes of this new creation and borne some of her into himself.

This was an opportunity among opportunities.

Okay, so, this is my first True Blood fic ever and I have no idea where I'm going with it really. It's set during season 6. I'm hoping you like it and it becomes an awesome one, but yeah, season 6 is still on so I'm trying to make it parallel to the events in the story. Who even knows. I just want to write something unlike the other fics out there, and see if I can keep true to the characters while introducing an interesting and believable new one. Much of the idea is mixed with that of Elfen Lied and I'm thinking I could make a rad story out of it. We'll see! I hope you like it, please review and respond.