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Anjyil was exploring her new. She made her way down the street, seeing what her new town is like.

I guess this isn't as bad as I thought.

Anjyil had moved in with her older sister, Valerie, a couple months ago after her parents and little brother died in a car crash. Before now, she hadn't bothered leaving her sister's house. She didn't want to accept her new life in Harper Rock for the longest time. Now, she see's that she can't keep going on like that. This is her new life; she's will make the best out of it now.

It was well past dark as she walked through town. She knew it wasn't smart being out at this time of night, but it was the only time when she could get away. Her sister is a nurse and usually works night shifts. Anjyil wanted to wait for Val to go to work before she explored the town. She loves her sister, but she wasn't in the mood for her questions. She's been hovering around Anjyil since she came to move in with her.

As she walked down the street, she came across a bar called Lancaster's. Being too young to drink, she didn't have any interest in the place. Until she heard the music. As she heard the beautiful sound, she felt compelled to find its source. She followed a group of people into the bar and was lead to a stage. There, she found its source. The man with the guitar.

Sometimes, Elliot felt sorry for the patrons of Lancaster’s. Only because, when he got in the mood, he took to the stage. And, because he was the owner of the establishment, no one could tell him no. No one could dictate what he could and could not play. Most of the time, he kept it quite upbeat; he played a lot of covers. He loved playing covers, making them his own. Though of course, he never really did change them very much. He kept true to the songs that he was covering. He liked to respect them, that way. No, the reason why he sometimes felt sorry for the patrons of Lancaster’s was because his songs could sometimes get very morose.

Tonight, however, his mood was brighter than usual. Being an Allurist, his moods could prove detrimental to his night. They could turn him into a cranky son of a *****, or they could turn him into a big, friendly giant, full of smiles and compliments and light, blasé topics of conversation. Never did he ever feel nothing. Never was he somewhere in the middle. He was always either deliriously happy, fiercely furious, sulkingly sad, or some other deep-seated and immoveable mood. And his mood could change, just like that, with a simple click of the finger.

The song that he currently played had him bopping his head and slamming his heal repeatedly against the wooden stage floor to keep the beat. His hair, which always seemed to do whatever it wanted to do, continually fell over his eyes—and he would continually flick it away. Although Elliot’d had been playing beneath the spotlight for at least an hour, he still looked as if he’d just stepped into work, fresh and bright and clean; there was no sweat on his brow or on his upper lip, and his eyes were a bright, piercing blue beneath the stark lighting. Not that the colour of his eyes would be immediately obvious to those watching, not until he reached the end of a song to gaze out at them, to chat to them whilst tuning for the next song, whatever it may be. No, when he played, he lost himself in the music. He became completely unaware of his audience. All the latent emotion settled in his soul bubbled and rose up to meet the melody, to infuse itself in the music, to add that genuine, gravelly tone to Elliot’s already deep voice. He never played half-heartedly. Ever.

The vampire was completely unaware of the effect he had on some humans; he was completely unaware that they were the rats, and he was their pied-piper. If he was the type to feed on human blood, perhaps it would be beneficial to him. But, ever the modest giant, Elliot remained completely oblivious to the admiration often heaped upon him. At least he wasn’t leading them to their doom. At least, he hoped, he managed to inspire them, if only for one night.

Aware that he shouldn’t appear to be tireless, when Elliot finished playing Miracle Cure he told the crowd that he’d be taking a break – asked them to make their way to the jukebox, should they wish to choose their own music. He then busied himself near the edge of the stage—the cord from the acoustic guitar to the amplifier had been playing up, and he was digging through the plastic container stashed beside the stage to find a cord to replace it.

As the crowd dispersed, Anjyil still stayed and just looked up at the man. She truly loved his music and wanted to tell him that, but she was nervous. She wasn't used to talking to people. She was always afraid that she'd say something wrong or that they'd think she's strange so she has kept her distance. She was used to being by herself anyway.

She was also worried that she'd get in trouble for being there in the first place. Since she was too young to drink, she was basically loitering around the bar, which she was pretty sure was against the bar's rules. At least, it was for most places.

She decided to talk him. Even if he thought she was strange, the worst that could happen would be for him to ask her to leave. She'll leave after this even if he doesn't tell her to. She's had her fill of the town for one night so all she has to do is compliment him on his music, possibly with some small talk afterwards, and then leave. It's simple and doesn't seem to cause trouble for anyone.

She walks towards the stage and looks up at the man as he's going through a container.

"Excuse me, sir?" She said. "I...I just wanted to say that I really loved your song."

She gave a shy smile. She was still a bit nervous.

Although Elliot could be pretty laid back and blasé in most aspects of his life, when it came to music and his instruments he was rather obsessive and pedantic. The cords in the plastic box were all rolled and tied neatly so as not to get tangled up; because of this, Elliot found what he was looking for in a very short amount of time. As he was about to put the lid back onto the plastic box in order to push it back to where it came from, he was greeted with a soft voice to his right. Elliot turned to face the girl, who looked far too young, really, to be hanging around in a pub. He didn’t second-guess it, though, nor did it occur to him to ask her to leave. Growing up back in Brisbane, no one stopped kids of all ages getting into pubs. Not the small town pubs, anyway. Of course they’d get carded were they to attempt to buy a drink, but there was nothing stopping them from consuming all the softdrink they liked whilst either hanging out with their parents (the younger kids) or playing pool. Of course, in the small town Elliot grew up in just outside the city, they all knew him, and his parents. Back then, they were all pretty carefree about these kinds of things. The underage Elliot had been allowed a drink every now and again.

And so it did not bother him that this young girl was in here to enjoy the music.

”Hey, thanks,” he said in response to her compliment; a regular response, the kind of immodest response that he’d give to anyone who offered him a compliment. See, Elliot was under the impression that most people were indifferent. It did warm his ego when they actually came to tell him that they’d had a good time. Of course he’d never let it show, though.

”Do you play any music yourself?” he asked, easily and willingly turning the topic away from himself and instead focusing it on the girl. It wasn’t just that he was uncomfortable strutting like some kind of peacock. He was also curious—he was always curious about other people. Maybe it was an unhealthy kind of curiosity; but he always wanted to know what made other people tick. At least emotionally, anyway. He could tell that this girl was quiet. That she was perhaps a bit shy. And if that was the case, she had great courage wandering into this establishment by herself. By herself. Elliot could help but cast a cursory glance over her shoulder, just to see if there was anyone hanging back waiting for her. If there was, they weren’t making themselves obvious.

It really wasn’t safe, he realised, for her to be alone. And while he started to tell himself that he shouldn’t care, that it didn’t matter, that she’d be okay (forever the optimist) he also wanted, vaguely, to keep her there, to keep her talking. To make sure that she would be okay, if left to her own devices. While he waited for her response, he clicked the lid shut over the plastic container and shoved it away.

"Oh, well....not really." I told him, my face now red. "My dad used to play the guitar and he tried to teach me once, but...I never really got the hang of it. My sister is really good at it though. Instruments just aren't for me, I guess. I prefer to sing more than anything. "

Anjyil decided to end there. She felt like she was talking too much already and the man wouldn't want to keep talking to her. She always worried about things like that. The guy seemed nicer than she thought before she approached him though.

She was also surprised that she mentioned her father around him. She hadn't said anything about him or her mom and brother since the accident. She didn't let herself think about it though. It wasn't the time or place for thoughts on that subject. She was in public, she needed to ignore all thoughts and emotions about it and keep going.

She decided to switch the topic back to him.

"So how long have you been playing?"

She was truly curious about him. Then again, she gets curious pretty easily. Since she keeps to herself, she doesn't know much about other people, minus her family. She didn't talk to people a lot to get to know anyone so she guessed that this was her opportunity, even if she'd only discover a thing or two about this man. Surely he wouldn't be bothered too much by her as long she's not too intrusive, right?

There was something about being a human-sized leech that meant Elliot could detect any kind of movement of blood beneath the skin. It wasn’t just the girl’s meek kind of behaviour that told Elliot she was a shy one. It was the way she blushed, the pink tinging her cheeks; it was almost as if he could see the blood creeping through the capillaries, growing like roots through dirt. Except the girl’s skin wasn’t dirt. It was clear and seemingly opaque, at least given the explosion of blood beneath. It was a blessing for Elliot that he no longer lusted after that blood—the blood of humans. Once upon a time he’d have harboured a shameful notion that he might take that blood from beneath this girl’s skin. A notion that he would have pushed deep down in an attempt to ignore it, to pretend that it didn’t exist. But the only blood he lusted after these days was that of his sire, and that suited him just fine.

Elliot dropped the coiled cord on top of the amp, ready to use next time. He then shifted out of his haunched position and instead swung his legs out over the edge of the stage, sitting with his shoulders rolled forward, black hair over his eyes. His hands rested idly in his lap.

”Since I could pick up an instrument,” he said with a smirk. His parents had no idea where his talent had come from. But ever since he could string words together, he was singing. And as soon as he was taught the basics, he picked up musical instruments like he was born with them attached. Guitar was his most favoured, obviously. Though he did tinker on the piano when he was feeling the most morose. There was something deeply calming about the sombreness of the piano.

”Mmm, singing is the best kind of therapy,” he said, his voice low and rumbling from his throat, like an instrument of its making. ”Nice to have an instrument to accompany it, though. But you should have a go – we have open mic nights here every so often. Get up on stage and let loose a bit,” he said with another smirk, cocking his head toward the stage.

"Oh, um...thanks for telling me, but...no. I mean, I get stage fright easily. I've never really liked being the center of attention of anything, but its good to hear about that. Maybe I can come and see others give it a try."

Just then, Anjyil's phone beeped, signalling that she has a text. She took it out of her pocket and put in her code to unlock her phone. The text was from her sister.

Hey, are you up? We need to talk. I got off of work early so I'll be home soon.

"Crap." She said under her breath.

She needs to get home. Like, now or Val will be so ticked.

She quickly put her phone back in her pocket and looked back at the man.

"Sorry, my sister needs me home. It was nice talking to you." She started to walk away, but then looked back and said "I really did love your song, by the way."

Then she hurried out of the pub. Once outside, she turned left then realized she has no idea how to get home.

God, I'm so dead. Val is so kicking me out next year.

Anjyil will be eighteen next year so her sister can legally kick her out then. Honestly, she wouldn't even blame Val if she did. Though her sister loves her and they are all each other has right now, she feels like she's just burdening her sister and now she's caused troubled for her. She shouldn't have left the house. She should have stayed inside.

Her phone beeped again.

WHERE ARE YOU? You are so dead when I get a hold of you!

She knew it. This can't be it though. She needs some kind of excuse to get by so she texted Val back.

Something came up for Mrs. Nelson and she called and asked me to watch her kids for her. Just chill sis.

Mrs. Nelson is this lady that lives two blocks from her sister's house and works with her sister too. She can be very unpredictable and always needs someone to watch her kids. There's even been a time or two that Anjyil has had to watch them this late as well.

Oh, ok....we'll talk tomorrow then.

Now Anjyil just had to get home. She tried to keep calm and decided to keep walking to see if any of the buildings were familiar. None were. Then she decided that it'd probably be better to go back to Lancaster's ask the man for directions. Then she realized that she didn't know how to get back there either. She kept going straight, getting more and more scared. She even started feeling like someone was following her.

She went to turn a corner and then was grabbed from behind. The person covered her mouth to muffle her screams. Then she felt something pierce her neck. No matter what she did, she couldn't break free. She just got weaker and weaker till the person just finally let her go and drop her on the sidewalk. She felt so dazed and confused.

What....I don't....what happened? I need...Val needs...me home...

Elliot didn’t like to see good talent go to waste. He had no idea whether this girl had any talent or not—a lot of people said that they enjoyed singing, but weren’t actually any good at it. He wasn’t joking. Singing, regardless of one’s talents, is excellent therapy. He couldn’t say that he’d ever had any qualms about being the centre of attention, and he couldn’t remember ever being shy about his singing. Maybe, once upon a time. Maybe, when he was a child, green to everything, he might have had some qualms. But he had none now. He got nervous, yes. Always got nervous. But that was all part of the fun. Part of the adrenaline rush. He was addicted to it.

He was about to start convincing the girl that there was a first time for everything, and that she never knew—she might grow to like it. But he didn’t get the chance. Her phone harangued, and her attention was stolen by it. Mere seconds later, she was taking her leave. She turned, one last time, to tell Elliot he really did like her song; Elliot responded with a grin and a salute.

Always watching, always careful, Elliot kept an eye on the girl as she weaved her way out of the pub. Although he’d never asked, it was obvious, now, that she was definitely on her own. No one left with her. Not really. Not with her, but Elliot did notice someone slip out just behind her. Someone who appeared to be watching her as closely as he was. Far be it for Elliot to judge how other vampires hunt; he knew that they lingered in crowded places if only to single out those who were easy prey. And most that he knew would single that one person out, only to take only what they needed. Would leave them, dazed and confused in some dark corner of the city.

At first, Elliot let her go. He didn’t follow, even though he knew she was being followed. But indecision was rife. It warred in his chest—that urge to ignore and let it go, or to follow, just to make sure this stranger got home alright. Of course, it was the latter that won. Elliot couldn’t let some young girl put herself in danger. She didn’t know what she was doing, wandering around these streets at night, alone. And so he dropped what he was doing and trotted through the crowd, exiting the pub.

The trail was easy enough to follow. He loped through the streets, wondering if he would even find the girl, or whether he’d hesitated too long.

When finally he did stumble across her, she was lying, inert, on the sidewalk. Her skin was pale and clammy. It had been so long since he had himself fed on anyone other than Pi. Was this how it was supposed to go? He peered into the darkness around them. The attacker had long since disappeared. But there was blood spilled on the cement, and though the wound on the girl’s neck ought to have healed, it hadn’t. Not fully. Whoever had fed on her, had done so viciously, without care. Elliot cursed under his breath.

”Hey….hey,” he called, softly. He brushed the hair from the girl’s face, shook her shoulder, gently.

”C’mon… please,” he said, silently pleading, hoping that she would wake up. He frowned as he searched for the clues; could she wake up? Could he take her to the hospital, and would she be alright? Would she live? Oh, how he hoped she would.

Anjyil laid there for who knows how long. She was barely conscious as she laid on the cold sidewalk with her eyes closed. At some point, she heard a voice.

"Hey....hey." it called quietly to her. She couldn't register who the voice belonged to so she stayed silent. It still wasn't clear to her what had happened, but she knew she was hurt and she knew someone did it to her. What if this was the person?

Some hair was moved from her face and her shoulder was gently shaken.

"C'mon...please." The voice said. The person seemed worried about her. She thought--ok more like hoped--that the person was her sister, but when thought about the voice, she realized that it couldn't be. No, the voice belonged to a man. Still, that did not stop the words that came from her.

"Val...I'm sorry..."

Then her eyes fluttered open. She had to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, but then she saw him. The man from the pub.

"Sir...I need to...get home....I can't...my sister needs me..."

She tried getting up, but didn't get far and fell back down. She took one last look at the man before she closed her eyes once more. Is this really where it ends for her? It can't. She can't die now. Val will be all alone. She can't do that to her sister, she just can't.

And with those thoughts, Anjyil fell into unconsciousness.

Sir, she called him. No one ever called him Sir, ever. It’s such an antiquated word, and yet here she was—a young person, calling someone sir. As if she had respect enough for her elders, even in her dying moments. A deep and sorrowful frown etched Elliot’s brow as the girl started to mumble about needing to get home. Of course, of course she thought she needed to get home. But she wasn’t going to get there. Elliot had no idea where she lived, and even if he went rooting through her bag to find a wallet, and maybe a license with an address on it, there was no way he’d take her there. The only place he would take her, if anywhere, would be the hospital.

The girl tried to get up and Elliot placed a hand under a shoulder, even held out a palm so that she could take it, so that he might be able to help haul her up and onto her feet. He wanted her to be able to. He prayed, to whatever omniscient being that might or might not watch over them, that she would get up, and that she would be fine.

But she wasn’t fine. She fell straight back down again, before promptly passing out. Elliot swore under his breath, which he then held. He didn’t need to breathe. The only breath was of the wind, which died down as Elliot leaned over the inert body of the girl, his head cocked to the side, listening for the heartbeat even as he felt for the pulse at the girl’s neck. Both the sound, and the feel of the heartbeat was slow. Staggered. Inconsistent. Again, he cursed, this time a little louder. Even if he picked her up and took her to the hospital himself, she wasn’t going to make it. She’d lost too much blood—over that forty percent or whatever it was that the human couldn’t withstand losing.

Still, Elliot picked the girl up. She was light as a feather, and nothing to the six foot six inch tall vampire. It was hardly hygienic, or comfortable, but there was nothing else to be done; he found the nearest, darkest alcove, in a place between the buildings. Out of sight, out of mind. He dropped to the ground, laying the girl upon the cleanest area of cement; he laid her shoulders against his knee, cradling her as he lifted his wrist to his mouth. He tore into his own skin with elongated canines. He made a wound big enough that it wouldn’t heal too quickly; flinched as his own blood started to pulse from the vein. He tried not to make a mess as he held open the girl’s mouth, forced his blood inside.

He almost hoped that she wouldn’t swallow. That she would die, and that he could say that he at least tried. It never seemed to go well, when he brought people over into this life. And she was so young! But that was the point, wasn’t it? That was the reason why he was doing this, wasn’t it? Because this girl was far too young, far too innocent to deserve death. Not real death. Not the kind you couldn’t come back from.