She gave a mental nod to the half empty plastic bottle, and to the used syringe needle stuck into the dirt. She knew that these objects would remain by the path for a very long time; as it is, nobody really took this path except for her.

Now, if she had friends, that would be a complete different story. Damien… that fucked up dad of hers, always said the couldn’t ever get friends or close to anybody. Even if she tried, he would insert himself into the situation and drive them away. Luna kicked a clump of grass with a vengeance. If only she could remember why… oh, perhaps it was because her real dad just happened to be the big man downstairs. Growling she turned her head up the the sky.

“Fuck!”

That felt good. But, not so good to do it again. What would the neighbors think? She shuddered at the thought. How embarrassing. Luna was different from her, real, old man in many ways… she had anxiety, an inability to socialize, and not to mention disturbing visions from time to time.

A smirk crept over her face.

“Hah, I guess demons really AREN’T allowed to do the nasty with humans… look at all the shit that happened to me.”

She laughed a quiet laugh to herself. Today seemed to be one of those days where she would be questioning her existence and, not to mention, her mental stability.

Luna heard a small scuffle of feet, rounding the corner behind her. She stopped and listened. Silence. Slowly, she began walking again, listening closely. The noises continued! Was it… following her?

This set her to walking at a slightly faster pace. Tip tap tip tap. Panic rose in her chest as her footsteps grew quicker, and her stalker grew closer than before. Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap. Luna’s fingers tightened around her closed umbrella, as it began to slip from sweat. She wiped them on her shirt and regripped. Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap. The scuffles behind her became more insistent. Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap tip taptiptaptiptaptiptaptip-

Luna stopped and turned and spun around as she quickly swung her umbrella. Eyes squeezed shut, heart racing, legs ready to bolt, arm muscles tensed for impact, her umbrella came in contact with- Air?

She had been expecting a human assailant so she had swung out at about head height, but in reality it had been nothing but a dog, sitting expectantly at her feet. It’s head tilted curiously.

“Brow-row?”

Of course it was a dog. Her nerves had been on edge ever since the announcement.

During Advanced History, an announcement came over the loudspeaker, asking if a… er Luna Cro… Curo… Curorem?, its Cruorem, ya stupid ghoul, could come to the main office and be prepared to leave… thank you!

As the message replayed him her head, her nails sank into her palms. She didn’t get along with positive people well. Her disgust must have shown on her face, because the dog took that as it’s signal to leave, ears drooped. Something pricked Luna’s heart.

No, now's not the time to get sappy over a damn dog. Pull it together Luna! Damien had obviously sent for me, so I have to get moving. Knowing him, he won’t be happy if I’m late.

With that in mind, she jogged home, wondering why Damien hadn’t decided to text her yet. Before she knew what she was doing she was running, she vaulted the fence, her feet crunching on the gravel of the driveway, rocks flying into the air behind her as she sprinted. Something was wrong. The way her senses immediately sharpened, and muscles tensed, told her that something was up. When she reached the door, she realized that her instincts were correct. The door was half open and the welcome mat was pushed to the side and muddied.

“What happened here…” she murmured to herself.

Luna inched her way to the door, wrapping her hand, finger by finger, over the cold metal handle. There was blood on the rug. It soaked into the priceless object, mixing deep red with the light blue and purples. It almost looked pretty. She felt lightheaded.

Leaning one hand against the wall, she followed the blood splotches from the hardwood floor, to the kitchen tiles, and finally into the hallway. It lead to a closed door. The clean doorway was a sharp contrast to the puddles of blood, mixed in with pieces of china and cloth covering walls and the floors.

Luna smiled. It was interesting. The room spun beneath her feet. She tasted bile in the back of her throat.

“Haha, lets see what surprises this door is hiding from me, shall we?” she asked the air in front of her.

Her outstretched fingertips lightly pushed on the door and it swung open a bit. She felt herself paleing, and she froze. Someone could still be in there… what would they do to her? Who could be in there, still breathing? She shook her head, and cast that thought away from her mind.

She didn’t want to think of what might’ve happened to Damien. She pushed the door farther.

It swung open without a sound, and she gripped the doorframe so hard she could hear it crack. Luna clung to it for support. It seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. Her throat tightened. Her pupils constricted into tunnel vision, all she could only see the poor man on the living room carpet, his waistcoat torn to shreds, practically swimming in his own blood.