January 9th, 2014

Los Angeles, California

It was currently three in the morning, rain tapped against the roof of the bus stop shelter. The cold whipped against my bare legs, my body was shaking like an earthquake. Despite the cold, I was determined.

I was working, in a sense. Really I was just waiting for somebody. Why on god’s earth they wanted to meet at the very outskirts of the city boggled me. Not like there were a million discrete places within the city limits.

Paranoia was good, especially in my line of work. However, it was still very annoying. whatever, as long as I got the job done. What really bothered me was the audacity this man seemed to have. Leaving me waiting here for an hour past when we were supposed to meet.

I almost turned to leave, but two headlights flashed in the distance. A beat up pickup truck roared down the street towards me. Inside the man smoked a cigarette and tapped nervously against the steering wheel. He was right to be nervous.

He stopped right in front of the bus stop and rolled down his window. “You Sydney?” he asked, his voice raspy. He looked me over his eyes glancing at his passenger seat. I rolled my eyes and walked around his truck. He clicked a button on the side of his door and unlocked the vehicle for me.

“What a gentleman.” I said annoyed. He coughed after taking a particularly hard puff off his cigarette.

“Not here to be a gentleman.” he flicked the cigarette out the window.

“No, you just wanna get fucked. Speaking of which, you have my money?” I asked.

He handed me an envelope, “You're pretty mouthy for a girl in your position.” he said. I turned to look out the window as he pulled away.

“Funny, most of my clients love my attitude.” I said as he turned right down a particularly dark street.

He looked at me quick a smile crossing his face. “You do this often?” he said, grabbing my thigh. His touch was like a vice against my flesh.

“More than you can imagine.” I said through grit teeth.

“How old are you anyway? The guy I talked to never gave me an exact age.”. This guy was so gross. “Fourteen.” I said.

I couldn’t wait for this to be over, just another scumbag that I’d have to deal with tonight. “You been doing this for long?” his grip tightened.

“What is this, twenty fucking questions? You aren’t paying me to talk.” I said. He grabbed me by the back of my head and slammed me against the dashboard of the truck.

“Gettin real tired of your attitude girl.” he snapped.

I had been hit before, plenty of times. The pain didn’t phase me, but the disrespect made me angry. If you’re gonna hit a girl, let her know first. “That’s gonna cost you extra.” I snarled. He chuckled and lit up another cigarette.

“I'm not too sure about that.” he said.

He started to unbuckle his belt and then pulled it from his jeans. “How bout you get started before I do that again.”. I took a deep breath, they didn’t pay me enough for this. Besides, we were close enough to our destination.

I grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it hard to the right. The tires screamed against the asphalt as he slammed on the breaks, the vehicle slammed into a telephone poll. The man's head bounced against the steering wheel, he screamed out in pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you little whore.” he belted out. I grabbed him by the neck and slammed his head against the steering wheel again. He tried to reach into the glove box, presumably to grab a gun. I pulled his arm back, and then twisted it until there was a crack.

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“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” He squealed. He wasn’t even going to get the chance. I opened the glove box and I was right, there was a gun next to a box of condoms and a rope. Sick fuck. I pushed his head against the driver's side window and got in close.

“You know what I’m gonna do to you?” I asked. The man shook his head as I placed the gun against his temple. He was trembling, the smell of piss filled the cab. “I'm gonna fucking kill you, because you deserve it.” I said.

He started to cry, “p-p-please, you can’t, I don’t wanna die.” He's so pathetic. I lifted the pistol from his temple.

“But first, I’m gonna torture you. And you’re gonna tell me everything you know about your little pedophile club.” I said, pulling his arm back and snapping it at the joint. Bone jutted from his arm and blood spurt across the dashboard.

***

Five hours earlier Alistair sat across from me, he straightened a stack of papers and then put them in a folder. I leaned back in my chair and stretched, sleep sounded good right at the moment. He placed the file on the table and slid it over to me. “Do you understand what you need to do?” he asked in his thick english accent. His crows feet like canyons in his aging face.

I took the file and opened it up. Neil Crus, thirty years old, liked girls my age. “Meet with the target, question him about the trafficking ring, end his life.” I said. Alistair leaned back satisfied.

“You probably won’t get anything out of him, but try and learn something about their dealings with Seraph.” he folded his hands, his burgundy red eyes glowed faintly.

“Can I ask you something?” The question had been building up in me for quite some time. He pursed his lips and then nodded.

“If I can answer it, I will.” he said.

“My parents told me we’ve been doing this for a long time, that since the last Heir died we’ve been lost.” His hands tightened their grip on each other. “Do you think we’ll ever go home?” I asked.

Alistair was one of the oldest of our kind in the known world. He had been part of the original group that left Avalon during the great exodus. He often told me stories about the old Island, and how the last Witch Queen Beatrice Rose sacrificed herself so that her heir could escape. Many of our kind were still trapped on the island, fighting.

“I love the city, love that we help. But part of me, yearns to see the Citadel, and all of the things you told me about.” I said. He took a deep breath and took my hands in his.

“Sydney, I hope the day you are able to see the Island is long off.” He said. That was disappointing, but expected. “Without the Heir Avalon is lost to us. Only in death may we find its shores.” he finished.

We are a race of people called a Bloodling. Created by the Witch Queen Morgan Le Fay. Crafted to be the perfect warrior. Long have we been without a Queen, long have we been lost, but soon, all of that changes.

***

Not far from where I crashed the truck is a storage facility. One of my organization's many safehouses. Inside, held all the tools I would need to break this human filth, not that I would need any of them. He was tied to a chair, gag in his mouth.

I balanced a knife in my palm and then acted like I was gonna throw it at him. He jumped in his seat, letting out a shrill scream. Pathetic, what a waste of breath. I circled him, his heartbeat like the thump of a rabbit. My prey was trapped.

“Alrighty, I’ve got a few questions for you. And you’ve made me pretty angry.” I said. His cheeks were wet from fear filled tears. “We tracked you and a few of your buddies online, used me as bait to lure you out.” I traced the point of the knife against his cheek. “We know that you frequent a Cartel bar that trafficks little girls and boys like me.”. He nodded quickly and tried to speak through the gag. I used the knife to cut the rope from his mouth. He spit it out and coughed.

“I’ll tell you everything, please, just let me go.” he said. My back straightened and I cocked my head at him.

“Alright, you have a deal.” I lied. His eyes widened, and then he let out a sigh of relief. “I just need to know two things really, “where” you guys meet, and if you know anything about a Seraph.” in that moment he became entirely lucid.

“I don’t know anything about that.” he said, but he was lying. I lightly pushed the knife into his shoulder, a twinge of pain crossed his face. The rancid smell of his blood filled my nostrils.

“Neil, buddy, you really shouldn’t lie to me.” I said. “We know Seraph is active in the city, I just wanna know if they're working for your suppliers.” I shoved the knife deep into his arm, the man screamed through his teeth.

His blood was spoiled, rotten, the thought of consumption made me gag. It wouldn’t be the best meal I’d ever had, but I would make do with what I was given. He looked me in the eyes, his expression wide with horror. My vermillion gaze pierced right through him.

“What are you?” he whispered.

My head cocked to it's side, “I’m the one that’s gonna bring you to Hell.” I said. Lunging forward I wrapped my lips around his neck and bit down hard against his flesh. The taste just as bad as the smell. He thrashed around in the chair, he screamed out two things. One, the location of the Cartels bar. The second was a name, Arthur Blake. My job was finished, and it was time to eat.