The 1775 night air clung to 17-year-old Melinda like a damp shroud, heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and decay. She huddled in the alleyway, her heart racing as the sounds of chaos erupted from the town square. The flickering street lamps cast eerie shadows on the ground, making it seem as though the darkness itself was moving.

Vampires.

They had come for them.

Melinda's mother, Abigail, had warned her, had told her stories of the ancient feud between vampires and demons. Abigail was a devout woman, a minister's wife, and she had always been fiercely protective of her family. Melinda's father, Elijah, was a kind and gentle soul, a minister in Middlesburg. He had always been Melinda's rock, her confidant.

Melinda's brothers, Gabriel and Michael, were younger than her, but they had always been a handful. Gabriel was a prankster, always getting into mischief, while Michael was a bookworm, always with his nose buried in a novel. Melinda's sister, Emily, was the baby of the family, a sweet and innocent child who had always been Melinda's responsibility.

As Melinda watched, her family fell, one by one. Her mother, her father, her brothers, and sister. Melinda was the last one standing, and she knew she wouldn't last long. The vampires seemed to be everywhere, their eyes glowing like embers in the dark.

Melinda's hand trembled as she clutched the small cross her mother had given her. It was supposed to offer protection, but it seemed like a feeble defense against the horrors that surrounded her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, but it was no use. Fear had taken hold, and she couldn't shake it off.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and imposing. Melinda's eyes widened as she took in the stranger's chiseled features, his piercing gaze. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Melinda felt a jolt of electricity run through her veins. Then, everything went black.

When Melinda woke up, she was disoriented and confused. She was lying in a strange room, surrounded by unfamiliar furniture. A faint scent of incense hung in the air, making her head spin. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her back onto the bed.

As she struggled to clear her foggy mind, Melinda realized that she was thirsty. Not just thirsty, but parched. Her mouth felt dry, her throat constricted. She needed water, but as she reached for the glass on the bedside table, she noticed something strange. Her hand was pale, almost translucent. Her nails were longer, sharper. And her eyes... her eyes felt different, as though they were seeing the world in a new, unsettling way.

Melinda's heart sank as she realized the truth. She was no longer human. She had been turned.

Panic set in, making her breath come in short gasps. Melinda threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed, desperate to find answers. But as she staggered through the unfamiliar room, she realized that she was alone. Whoever had turned her was nowhere to be found.

The only clue was a small, intricately carved ring on her finger. It was beautiful, but it seemed ominous, as though it held secrets she couldn't quite grasp.

She looked around the room for any clue about where she was but the only thing g she could find was a small note that was sitting comfortably on the table beside the bed.

She walked over to the table and picked up the note. It read; "If you really love your life then I suggest you run away from Middlesburg and never, ever RETURN." It didn't help that the note was obviously written with blood.

Melinda's eyes narrowed as she stared at the note. She would find out who had turned her, and she would make them pay. But for now, she had to focus on survival. She was a vampire, and she needed to learn how to navigate this strange, new world.

With a newfound sense of determination, Melinda set out into the night, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.