IT was a boy. Almost Tina's and Zac's age.
She knelt down by him forcing herself to stop panicking.
Maybe they could save him.
Maybe not.
But they would try.
There was blood welling up at his chest and his hair was matted with it.
"Hey..." she said softly to the dying boy, "It's okay, we'll get help."
She turned to Zac, who had now gone green but was trying his best to look composed, and mouthed, Dale.
He nodded a little too vigorously, sending his ebony black hair flying in all possible directions and took off like a shot to the where they'd entered the kitchen from and yelled, "Dale, in the kitchen." And came zooming back to Cristina's side.
Tina gently lifted the boys hand and checked for his pulse: it was feeble and irregular but it was there nonetheless.
She was about to ask Zac what was taking Dale so long when the boys hand shot up and clamped around Cristina's wrist in a death grip.
She fought the urge to cry out in pain.
Well, atleast she had proof that vampires really were strong and that that wasn't another lie all those fiction books she'd read had told.
Or maybe the boy was always this strong.
"Oh shut up, you dumbass," she muttered to herself.
"What was that?" Zac whispered from behind her, apparently having heard her muttering.
"What was what?" She said feigning ignorance.
"Nothing...I think I'm hearing things..."
Where on earth was Dale? She thought for the millioneth time.
The boys sharp intake of breath brought her back to the present.
He coughed and gasped over and over.
This was not good.
What was she to do, she thought, panicking, when the boys eyes flew open and darted around the room in horror and fear.
"- not gonna get me. I'm not gonna let them get me." The boy wheezed out.
Tina scooted closer to the boy, "Who? Who did this to you?" She asked gently.
In answer, the boy let go of his hold on Tina's wrist and merely pointed towards the darker portion of the kitchen, groaned something incoherent and let his hand fall back.
She stood up and narrowed her eyes, looking for any movement in the dark half of the room.
Zac moved forward, closer to the boy, murmuring to the boy that help'll come, dabbing the blood away from the wound with a piece of cloth he ripped from his own T-shirt.
She watched the darkness closely, scanning the area. She could make out the shape of a window with a thick curtain covering it on the farthest wall but nothing other than that.
Maybe the dying boy was just hallucinating or something.
For the last time she swept her gaze through the area, eyes narrowed, senses on the alert.
There.
She caught a flicker of movement in the corner of the room, not too far away from the window.
She burst into motion, her vampire speed aiding her.
Two figures, who had been hiding all this while, sprang towards the window.
She knew she was too late.
She was barely halfway to the window when one of the figures smashed the window pane, sending shards of glass flying everywhere, ready to make their escape.
But before they did so they cast one last glance at their pursuer.
Then they were gone, through the window, out into the busy streets of LA.
But she saw their faces.
It was filled with hatred and anger.
But it was them.
She'd recognize them anywhere.
She had reached the window now and was about to lean out of it to make sure she had seen right, to make sure she wasn't imagining crazy stuff, or atleast tried to lean out of the window, but drew back with a harsh cry, the warm, golden LA sunlight she'd loved burning her skin.
This was no dream.
This was no hallucination.
What she had seen was true and real.
The murderers were her parents.