Kneeling down at what seemed to be the blocked in end of a dimly lit alley, a younger looking woman stared blankly at the ground before her. Perhaps, she had gotten lost in the maze that were called streets, and simply lost her way here? Or was it that she wished to get away from the mass of mortality that so swarmed the streets. Maybe it was a mix of both.

Yes... the woman thought, yes, it is a mix of both of these things... for I was lost before, and I have come here now to get away from everything outside of this 'world'... Habitually talking to herself had been something she normally did, or at least, thinking to herself. But it was quite ironic that she came back to this spot. For this was the very spot that she had been so brutally turned from mortality to immortality... awakened, in a sense.

As she knelt there, images played through her mind of the past few nights, starting with her 'turning', ending up now to right where she was, at this very spot. Pressing her back now against the cold, brick wall of the alley, she found herself sitting down instead of kneeling. What was she supposed to do now? The vampire had left no set of instructions for her to follow... said nothing about it to her as she lay there covered in her own blood as well as his. He had not even said a single word, as her muffled screaming came in short bursts, unable to be heard, for he had so painfully stitched her mouth closed. All the scars seemed non-existent now... at least the physical ones. Only slight traces of pink along her lips showed, too small to see unless one was searching for them.

Sighing, she hugged her knees to her chest, pushing aside feeling of despair and hopelessness. For now, she was alone, and that was what she needed. At least, she thought so.

The night time air, reasonably settled and calm for the down town region, became ruffled by the swish of fabric and cascading notes of a hummed tune. The scrape of a high fashion dress shoe sounded against the gravel and dirt-slick sidewalk, followed soon after by the tap of wood on concrete.

Marcus had indulged tonight. Dressed in a fashion more suitable for two centuries prior the present date, he walked the dimly lit streets, a bronze capped walking cane rapping out the down beat of the melody reaching his ears via a pair of small headphones. Though the wires of technology clashed with his well tailored evergreen waist coat, neatly tied back hair, and frilled white sleeves, it was quite clear that the pale young man had little regard for this off-set to the rest of his costume.

His merry meandering was brought to an abrupt halt, however, as past the headphones and within his very mind he heard a voice. A woman's voice, originating from an alley just up ahead. He briefly assessed the situation, and then altered his path, resuming his cane tapping and humming as he elegantly picked his way along the poorly lit stretch of alley.

Pale blue eyes seeming to gaze into nothingness, the woman seemed to be lost in some sort of trance, or perhaps just in her mind. Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, she seemed to be listening to some strange voice in her head... no... more like 'voices'. They came from all directions at once, forcing themselves into her head like some slug trying to take over her mind. All different types of voices, some louder, some softer... some masculine, others feminine... forced their way in, as she was helpless to stop any of them. A prisoner in her own mind, as it were.

Slowly rocking back and forth, she seemed slump over to one side, so then she lay on her back, still cradling her knees tightly with her arms. It was a strange sight to see the young woman like this, a somewhat elegant looking person laying in the filth of an alley. Her attire seemed to not show she was doing this, however, as it was mostly black. Always preferring to be unnoticed, she tried to blend herself in with shadows and darkness, even before she had become a creature of the night. Tightly stitched leather covered her body, all surrounded by a lengthy cloak of the same color as the rest of the leather. Black.

She didn't seem to protest against these voices... she found herself speaking back to them, through her mind, of course. It was strange, they never seemed to reply after she spoke. Perhaps, the mortal on the other end thought it was a fluke? A ghost? Could have been countless possibilities. Regardless, she continued to stare forward(which was upward, now) into the night sky, which was covered in it's normal shroud of smog, and continued to 'converse'.

As Marcus came upon her, the woman clad in black leather using the filthy mattress of the alley to lay upon, he stopped again, a metre or so away. His slim fingers tapped out the final few sessions of rhythm in the piece that came to a winding close in his ears, before the tape hidden within the player beneath his coat succumbed to static and then clicked to a close.

He slid the headphones from his ears and allowed them to droop about his neck as he moved closer to her again, the shortening of distance between them turning up the volume of the multiple voices she attempted to converse with as gradually as he would increase it on his small walkman.

He took a knee next to her, taking a closer look before he attempted to intervene with the confusion in her mind.

The woman's pale blue eyes seemed to continue to stare forward, as she seemed to be totally oblivious to the fact that there was someone kneeling directly over her. She started to murmur aloud a bit, a mumbling noise that really couldn't be distinguished into specific words. The thoughts that seemed to invade her mind dampened slightly, becoming a whisper instead of a loud yelling noise. Regardless, she still replied to the bodiless voices, waiting for them to return. Her mind seemed to be totally occupied with this, as she still did not realize that this new man was kneeling over her.

When Marcus came closer, he would have seen that she was a quite pale female, and easily had very pale blue eyes, almost a strange gray color. They seemed to be sucked dry of all life, and seemed to glow in their strange hue. Her hair seemed to be longer than it was, as it was spread out slightly on the ground. In all actuality, it was barely shoulder length, curving inwards toward her at the tips. It seemed to be a bit dirty, as it had been exposed to the dirty floor of the alley.

"...G...gg..."

She mumbled aloud, obviously trying to speak to some voice that dominated her mind.

The neutral expression of open curiosity upon Marcus's face became drawn into a vague and worried frown, his medium brown brows furrowing down with concern. He had seen too many a fledgling go insane in this manner, attempting to communicate with those outside thoughts that they could hear. He would at least make an effort to prevent such a loss tonight.

He lay his walking stick aside, and reached with outstretched fingers to lay the tips of middle finger and thumb on her temples, momentarily covering her eyes with his cool palm in the process.

His own gaze flickered misty green in the dim light as he sorted through the swarm of voices, silencing some, dimming others to the background where they were easier to ignore. He removed his hand, laying it on his knee, and allowed his own mental tones to fall gently on her inner ear.

'The mortals do not have the ability to speak back to you. It is easier if you leave them be,' he informed her, looking now into the depths of her dull eyes for a sign of recognition to the world around her.

Erika flinched lightly as Marcus touched her face, and it seemed to draw her somewhat back to the 'real' world. The voices dampened even moreso than before, and she stopped her incoherent mumbling. Her dull, pale eyes seemed to lose their dullness, but kept their pale glow. Instead of staring blankly now, she seemed to look around, not really looking at anything in particular, but just randomly looking everywhere, as if she were trying to find something nonexistent.

"W-what...? ...?"

She seemed to yell, now just one voice powering it's way into her mind. Flinching again, she looked directly at Marcus, and slowly realized that it was him that was speaking to her. What had he just said...?

'The mortals do not have the ability to speak back to you. It is easier if you leave them be.'

The phrase rattled her mind... so that was what she had heard. How did this man know what she was thinking about? Furthermore, how did he help her?

"We can get to that in a few minutes. I should think you need a bit of time to recover first," Marcus said aloud, smiling kindly as he withdrew his voice from her mind, and left the presence of the barriers against outer interference in place.

"My name is Marcus. You should likely sit up, as I do believe that's broken glass you're laying on," he said additionally, resettling his weight so that he was no longer leaning over her, but sitting cross-legged at her side, expression now curiously demure.

Erika shook her head slowly, as if she were trying to empty it. Her mind seemed to throb painfully, as if she had just been beaten in the head viciously. The pain seemed to slowly seep away though, just as the voices in her head had done. Sitting up against the wall, she looked at the ground that she had been laying on. It was true, she had been laying on glass. What she couldn't see, was her back, the leather had been shredded, and the glass had pierced her skin, multiple times. Lacerations covered her back, and it was obvious that she had been bleeding, for small spots of blood were on the ground where she had been previously laying.

Strangely enough, she felt no pain. Only the warming sensation of blood flowing, which felt quite good. It was also a bad feeling, however, at the same time. She hadn't fed since she was turned... and that had been four days ago. Very, very weak, she felt constantly a hunger inside that nothing normally would quench. That, and the lack of sleep she had had, made her feel extremely helpless and weak. But for now, recovery sounded like something she should be doing.

"...."

She simply nodded at Marcus, closing her eyes. Perhaps it would be better if she just let herself die.

All suggestion of shy behaviour vanished as Marcus observed the trickles of blood upon the ground, and smelt the purity of another vampire's blood within it. There was no mortal taint to it, except for her own. She had not partaken of that essential first meal since she had been turned. Yet she still lived...but not for long.

He rocked up and onto his knees again, his finely manicured fingers unbuttoning the cuff of his left sleeve.

"Drink," he advised, rolling back the multiple cuffs to reveal the marble smooth and pale flesh of the wrist beneath. The blood of a victim from the evening before pulsed warmly in the blue veins beneath the surface, blood that had been transformed from a mortal's life liquid to the power-rich nectar that fuelled his ancient body.

He did not often offer his own means of life to another. But in this situation, she needed it more than he did, and having a small amount of his essence within her would not only heal her wounds, but help her maintain control of the voices.

Erika slowly and dizzily opened her eyes, looking down at Marcus' wrist. Drink? He wanted her to take his blood, of course. At any other time, it probably would have been sickening to her just to merely think about it. But... the hunger. It simply took over her body. She felt as if she needed it. Perhaps it was Marcus as well, willing her to do so. Either way, she slowly reached up with her pale hand, grabbing onto his wrist weakly. Slowly pulling it up to her mouth, she unconciously kissed his wrist, before sinking her fangs into the vein that she seemed to sense without sight.

This had been the first time that Erika had fed off of any being, let alone a vampire. It was as if pure pleasure ran down her throat, into her own veins. A surge of warmth, of power, of everything that she ever wanted, it seemed. Even though she knew she couldn't, she felt as if she could stay like this forever, drinking his blood until it ran dry.

Pushing away his wrist somewhat sadly, she wiped at her lips with a finger. A slight pain in her back started to grow, what she would later on realize was the healing that took place from the lacerations along her back. She only looked up at the elder vampire now, pale blue eyes now full of life... someone else's life.

"Marcus... Why? Why do you help me? I doubt that I deserved such help, and I do not believe that I can offer you anything in return. I am merely helpless."

The small smile returned again, as if Marcus found some sort of abstract amusement in the situation as he slipped his sleeve over his wrist again. The wound she had made had closed seconds after she had finished drinking, and he was not particularly concerned with any blood stains that might find their way onto his finery.

"If you are willing to accept help, then you deserve it. I do not expect anything in return, other than an effort from you to accept your new existence." All was said in a gentle, non-demanding tone, something like how a father would speak to a daughter when giving her advice to live by.

"I... accept it?"

The phrase she uttered was neither a question, nor a statement. It was a strange mix of both, jammed together in an incoherent mix of words. Accept this new existence? She would now have to, it seemed, for this Marcus had just requested it of her. And also, the very thing that she had been afraid of, taking blood from another being, felt so good to her now. She knew that she would want more, even though her thirst was quenched.

"I... alright... I do accept it. And... thank you, Marcus."

She blinked, really at a loss of words. Not ever in her life had anything like this happened, and she was slightly taken aback by it all. Her life had changed, turned itself upside down, all in a week. All because she had gotten lost in the streets that she had ironically lived in her entire life. Sadistic, yes, but also ironic.

"..."

Her hands slowly went up to her face, wiping away everything that had gotten on it from the ground. Although she did not realize it, the blood from her back had gotten into the bottom of her hair, causing it to stick together. Rubbing her palms into her eyes, she shook her head.

What a mess.

Marcus seemed content with this answer, for he resumed sitting cross-legged on the dirt carpeted ground.

"To answer your previous questions, those that you thought, my response is one in the same. I am of an ancient race of vampire, and my strongest immortal gift is of the telepathic sort. As, it would seem, is yours."

He tilted his head a little to one side, apparently pondering over the last of his statements, while allowing time for her to do the same.

Erika laughed a bitter laugh at his comment about her so called 'gift'.

"A gift... It is most certainly not a gift, if I cannot control it. It consumed me, it took over my body completely, while I was helpless to defend against it. Voices pressed their way into my mind. If it weren't for you, I would have layed there in my own blood until I starved to death, or worse."

Erika did not really know what 'worse' was, but there was always, always something worse. Starving yourself was a horrible death, especially, it would seem, if you were a vampire. But there was always something worse that could happen. Perhaps some other vampire, not so 'nice' as Marcus, would have came along. Or any mortal, even. In the state that she was in, there would not have been much she could have done in defense of herself. Helpless. That's what she was then, and that's what she still was.

"Of course you cannot control it now. The one who made you should not have been so careless as to abandon you to suffer under your own power. I will find him if he is still within this city, and ensure that he makes no such error again." Marcus's vaguely boyish features clouded with shadow as he spoke thus, but then, as a thunder head will clear if the angle of the sun's rays are right, they resumed their potency for wistful thought.

"However, if you would like, in his stead I will teach you how to harness your new abilities. You may even find them useful after you adjust and master them."

"Is that something that you should be doing? I do not know any such nuances... nor do I know much about anything that I should do. Perhaps I should take your advice, and take your teaching."

Erika simply nodded to Marcus, pushing the confusion in her mind aside. Perhaps she would just let him do what he wanted... just to teach her. That felt so strange. No one helped a person these days without expecting something in return. And Erika would not accept help without giving something back.

"I suppose, that I could learn as much as you would teach me. But I request that I would be in debt to you, until my debt is paid for this act of kindness..."

She shook her head, as if she wanted to emphasize that last part. If he were reading her mind, he would have known how important it was to her.

"I do believe we have a deal," Marcus replied easily, doubting that he would ever have to call on her to act upon such a debt, but willing to accept her terms all the same. He chose to ignore her first question for the time being. He would explain to her his position concerning what he should or should not be doing at a later date.

"Now then, for tonight, I suggest you return to whatever place of refuge you have found for yourself during the daylight hours, and rest. The power of my blood will keep the voices at bay for you until tomorrow evening. Feed if you can before coming to meet me in Westminstral Park at midnight, as you will need your strength. Do you know where the park is?"

"I have no such place of refuge. I cannot return to my family, for they have already proclaimed me as missing... and they would most certainly realize that I am not the 'same' person. I have not slept in these four days, just as I have not fed. I simply hide... in a certain building that is not quite... livable, shall I say. I spend nights in the bar, called the Tequila. For I used to frequent there as a mortal."

She closed her eyes, turning her head away. It was slightly embarassing. It would have been obvious by now to Marcus that she was not even able to take care of herself, let alone survive. Erika had been so lucky to have been discovered by him, for a number of reasons. Yet all she felt was confusion and anger at herself, regardless of the help she had received thus far.

"We will sort something out for you to that regard tomorrow night as well, then. You would likely be safest with the Enashe or Nephim covens," Marcus sighed, getting to his feet and tucking his walking stick under one arm. He offered Erika a hand to assist her with standing as well.

"Return to this building that you have been staying in, and try to rest. I assume it will be easier without the voices bearing down on you constantly."

Erika reached up to take his hand, pulling herself up along with him. Certainly, this Marcus was much too generous for his own good. Yet, it seemed that it would be impossible to take advantage of such a being. Erika could sense the great power that came from him.

"I do not understand all of that quite as much as I would like, but I suppose that you know more about it than I do. Although rest is not an option for me, I will return there and wait until the next night... Where shall I meet you? Or shall I meet another?"

"You will meet me, in Westminstral Park, though at no particular location in its grounds. At midnight, be there and waiting, and I will find you." After releasing her hand, he brushed the back of his coat off, and then set his cane on the ground again, crushing a piece of glass beneath it.

If he had a hat, he would have tipped it to her, but he settled with performing a brief bow, flashing a smile of farewell, and then making off into the night, his headphones somehow finding their way back to his ears without his touch.