Chapter 1
It was a cold night on a snowy road. An old beat up Geo with its headlights on and wipers going as fast as they could bolted down the highway. The high pitched hum of the small engine was covered by the sound of Taproot on the stereo.
Gripping the wheel were two gloved hands. The fingers of the gloves had been cut off revealing slender digits and black nail polish. The gloves lead to the olive green sleeves of an army jacket obviously meant for someone two sizes larger than its current owner. The two sleeves lead to a the face of a young woman, shoulder length red hair, dark brown eyes with reddened veins, soft pale cheeks, and lips that only hinted at the color of a peach, and from those lips dangled a lit cigarette.
Her name was Megan Sanders and she was driving. Where she was going to was unknown even to her. She wasn't driving to anywhere but driving away from somewhere. Away from her home, if where Megan came from can even be called a home. The word home, at least for most people, implies ideals of safety, love, warmth, and family. Megan's was anything but that.
After her mother had drank her dinner and laid passed out on the couch with the TV on, Megan packed her things into her backpack from school, took all the money out of the hidden places in the apartment, and stole her mother's car keys and left in the middle of the night as it began to snow. That was two hours ago and the snow was only getting worse. Megan could barely see the road. Being tired and the complicated emotions that filled her tear ducts made it even harder to see through the snowy night.
At that moment, Megan suddenly felt the weight of her eyelids. Her eyes fluttered only for an instant before she fought it off, but that second or so of weakness was all it took for the car to begin to swerve. The car began to fishtail violently. Megan tried to compensate but her inexperience as a driver did not permit her. Her mother's car spun out and fell into a ditch.
After Megan had somewhat steadied herself in the off kilter but stationary car, she tried to turn the engine over but to no avail. The car was dead. "Piece of shit bitch!" Megan cursed aloud at everyone and no one in particular. She figured she could do one of two things: wait here until she froze to death in the car or make a run for the nearest gas station. She decided to run.
She picked up her backpack from the floor and flipped up the hood on her coat. She opened the door of the compact car and a mighty gust of icy air hit her in the face. She stood up outside the car and into the wind with only the few possessions she carried and began to trot along the shoulder of the highway in search of shelter.
As she made her way along the snow covered pavement, she thought how this situation so reflected her life. All alone in the world, her life restricted by some intangible but ever present force that impeded her progress, constantly bombarded by a multitude of tiny but painful stings. She thought to herself, "How can I stand against all of this?" The chill had run all the way though her now. Her trot had slowed to a shuffle.
Exhaustion, sleeplessness, her emotions, and the cold had taken everything out of her. Megan came to a stop seeing nothing but the snowy abyss before her. She fell to her snow caked knees and sobbed dryly. She fell to her side knowing she would die there in the snow, alone, and in the dark. She closed her eyes and faded to black.
Chapter 2
Along that same highway at that same time, there was a black pickup heading towards Megan from the opposite direction. A pair of thick gloves held the vehicle on its course for home. The gloves covered the cuffs of a leather bomber jacket. The sleeves circled towards each other and met at the fur lined collar that surrounded the throat of the man driving.
His age could not be read from his face. He could have been thirty or fifty. He liked to say that he looked young for his age. Long black hair, deep set emerald eyes, high cheekbones, and a pronounced five o'clock shadow characterized his face. His name was Viktor Drake, and he was on his way home.
He had just come from a gas station to fill up his truck and the fuel tanks for his generator. He knew all too well the effect of heavy snowfall on power lines around here. Around here the power could go out for days, even weeks before the power companies did anything about it. It wasn't all that uncommon for him to get snowed in during those times for a while. Whenever heavy weather came this way, he was always sure to top off his tanks and supplies.
He was about half way home when he spotted a strange lump on the side of the road. As he drove by it, he couldn't fully make out what the object was, but his instincts told him to investigate. He stopped his truck and backed up until his headlights illuminated the mass. The black door swung open as a heavy boot set itself firmly on the ground. He stood up from the truck, checking both directions for headlights before crossing.
He made his way to the snow shrouded mass, kneeling down next to it. He wiped away the layer of ice flakes, revealing olive drab fabric. Wiping more snow away, he quickly realized that this was a body. He found the arm and rolled the body onto its back. The glow from his headlights illuminated the features of an unconscious young woman. Viktor pulled off one of his gloves and pressed his exposed hand to the woman's throat. Her flesh was frigidly cold but a faint slow pulse still lingered. She wasn't dead, but she wasn't far from it. Scooping her up in a swift move, he carried her to his truck. She was so light in his arms. "I've raised pups that weighed more than her," Viktor thought to himself.
After setting her in the passenger seat of his truck, he removed her snow-caked backpack, jacket, boots, and pants and left them on the floor. He turned the cabin heater on to full power hoping to buy some time before hypothermia could fully take effect. He drove off with more speed than he would normally dare in such weather.
The nearest clinic was a half hour drive and the nearest hospital was further than that. He had to get her warm and quickly. The closest place was his cabin, less than ten minutes driving time. There, he had a large tub in his bathroom and a fifty gallon water heater in the basement. It could do the trick... if she still had time.
Along the way, Viktor began to realize the implications that this situation held for him. "What am I doing?" He thought to himself, "The next full moon is two nights away and the weather as it is, she'd have to stay at least that long. She could learn what I am! The ritual could be jeopardized! All the grief over this... human." He looked over to his passenger and as much as his baser instincts despised her presence, his humane instincts pitied this girl, this... innocent. "'Innocent,'" Viktor thought, "There's a word with meaning." The word triggered the sweet part of a bittersweet memory and he resolved himself to the situation: he was going to take care of his passenger and deal with the rest later.
Just then, Viktor's train of thought was broken when he saw another lump in the snow, this one much larger. He slowed and saw it was a car spun out on the side of the road. Seeing no one around or inside the car, he drove on.
By the time Viktor parked his truck, he was sweating in his jacket, but his passenger was still out and cold. Not bothering to park in the garage, he left the vehicle in the driveway, just in front of his cabin. He rushed into the house with the girl in his arms, not bothering to remove his boots. Setting her on the bathroom floor with a towel under her neck, Viktor set about drawing a hot bath.
