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Let me describe to you Gregory.

He is taller than the average 15 year-old, with a lean yet muscular body. His skin is pearly white (no duh), as if he wears make-up to make it look that way. His eyes are dark with heavy lids. Again they look enhanced with make-up. His lips are pink, his teeth white.

Gregory’s hair though, was ridiculous. It was straight, mid-length and naturally dark brown, but from the back, half of it was coloured blue and the other red (split personality much?).

The tops of his hair were gelled to stick straight up in the air in little wires. I had never seen such a strange hairstyle and as weird as it may sound, it looked totally hot.

His clothes were even weirder. He looked like he’d stepped straight out the Shakespearean era, but punk-rock style. He wore dark grey pants, big black boots (with the shoelaces untied) and amber and black striped vest over a dirty white shirt and black hobo gloves on his hands.

Around his neck was a shark’s tooth on a strip of black leather and to set his whole outfit off, he wore a light grey overcoat, sort of a cross between a trench coat and a cape. That coat was amazing.

Gregory is this generally scary looking person, so to have him hissing and snarling at me was genuinely frightening. Again my trusty vampire instincts kicked in and I snarled right back.

When he snarled it looked like any other human snarl, only he has fangs. When I snarled, my whole lower-jaw extends out to reveal all of my razor sharp teeth. He almost wet himself with fear as he jumped back from me.

I regained control over my body and returned to my normal state. Then, from one of the many caves around us, emerged a woman with fluffy blond hair.
“Gregory dear, what’s all this fuss about?” she asked. I figured she must have been his mum.

Gregory was still speechless. He pointed at the dark corner in which I was standing. I walked into the moonlight that was coming from the hole in the ground (or is it ceiling now?). His mother gasped. She was obviously better educated than he was.

There are all different ‘clans’ of vampire. Each clan has there own set of special characteristics. From the way Gregory hissed at me, I knew he wasn’t of my clan. My clan looks different to every other clan in the world. We are… well, beautiful.

Our eyes come in the most unimaginable shades of green, yellow pink and purple. For the female part, our hair is always thick long and luscious, our bodies perfectly sculptured.

I guess you could say that our looks are the best in the vampire world, (Dracula’s our King, hello?) and they are easily recognisable to all other vampires. That’s why Gregory’s mum was standing there staring at me.

“In all my years I never thought I’d see…” her voice trailed off as she turned around and called out, “Fredrick! Fredrick come here!” Cue the much older and slightly taller version of Gregory with streaks of grey running through his hair; his father Fredrick.

I had heard of this vampire. Fredrick the Great was renowned for his ferocity, but he was only ever so when his family was in danger. Oh, and another thing. This family is very peculiar. The whole clan is odd, you might say. I’ve read about them.

They migrated here (refer to Chapter 2) to try and become human. What kind of sick vampire would want to become the species of their prey? That’s another thing. They want to be a family, not fiends. So instead of letting nature take its course and finding human blood to feed on, they instead choose to live off cow’s blood.

They want to become humans, not eat them for dinner. Psycho I say, psycho. And I’ve stumbled into their hidey-hole. Great.

“Oh my…” were the only words daddy-diddums managed to muster up when he first saw me. I should probably describe to you my own appearance.

I’m tall for my age and my body id well proportioned. I have dark brown hair down to my waist that sets itself into an array of elegant waves and curls. My eyes are a deep shade of violet, my eyelashes thick, and my nose straight, my eyebrows well shaped and my dark pink lips are full.

There is just one thing about me that is out of place. My skin took after my mother’s completely. And no, I don’t mean it’s green. I don’t know what the producers of that movie were thinking…

Instead of my skin being a soft white hue as everyone else in my clan’s is it’s olive. I’m a vampire with clear, deep olive skin. Well, technically I’m only half vampire, but it’s strange all the same.

Freakish some might say, but I don’t care. I look at myself in the mirror and I’m comfortable with what I see, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters. I like the way I look. At the moment though, I hate it.

“Dear lady, you are most welcome in our home,” said Fredrick taking a deep bow, “it is an honour to be in your presence.” I inclined my head and smiled. I didn’t want to seem rude.

“May I introduce to you my family?” he asked.
“It would be an honour to become acquainted with the family of Fredrick the Great,” I replied. You could tell he was pleased at the fact that I already knew his name.

“This is my wife Freda,” he motioned to the woman with blonde fluffy hair.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you fair lady,” she said as she curtsied to me, “and these are our children Gregory, Rudolph and Anna.” Rudolph had the exact same features as his mother, but they were dark like his father’s. Anna had blonde hair like her mother’s. She reminded me of goldilocks.

Gregory was of course the spitting image of his father, but I sensed that the two of them were not entirely close.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all, truly. My name is Melanie Sanderson. I’m on holiday here in Scotland, and I don’t know much about the area. Could you help me?”

I know, I know. I lied about holidaying, but my personal affairs were none of their business.
“Anything Lady Melanie, anything at all. We are in your service,” answered Mama bear.

“Well you see, I was just out in the woods when I came across a mad-man in a red truck…” but before I finished, Gregory butted in.

“Rookery,” he said, in a voice displaying all the loath he could muster.








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