The Intruders

Chapter One

HE WAS BUILT to kill. Fangs hanging from his mouth, nails sharper than blades and the ability to feel nothing at all while he squeezed the life out of a human.

He had always been secluded, sat on a table by himself in class, watched from afar as the rest of the children ran out in the playground. But when the Resistance found him, as a baby just outside the gates of Saxet, leader Francis Blanchard couldn't leave him. His heart bled for the young boy, and he took him in, raised him alongside his own son.

The Blanchard boys they were known as. Caine and Dorian Blanchard; brothers and best friends. You wouldn't find one without the other, and despite Caine's exclusion, Dorian was always there to sit with him at lunch.

Francis tried to hide from Caine his true identity, weekly nail cuttings and teeth sanding. He knew he couldn't keep Caine from the truth forever, but until then he could try. Despite Caine had never done anything bad.

It wasn't until she walked into the boys' life.

Both sixteen, both ready to start dating. She was Dorian's first, if anything; she was blonde, pretty and completely human. But despite the gifts, the love and the appeal of dating the Resistance's future leader, she never felt the compel of Dorian.

She often found herself lurking Caine out.

Caine loved her as soon as he saw her. They had been in similar classes, but they had never spoke. The first day she said a word directly to him, he was sitting on the roof of the Resistance building, watching the thunderstorms. He almost fell off in shock when she asked if she could join him.

There was nothing stopping them from there. They were like magnets, she ended things with Dorian and started things with Caine. She watched every thunderstorm with him, and even when his skin started turning greenish, and his eyes more golden, she wasn't scared. She would cuddle closer into him.

Sometimes, he wished that he has been born different. With nails instead of claws, small, human sized teeth instead of the intruding canines. Sometimes, he wished he had been born to a different family, different parents. But she would shake that thought away from his brain, and she; so beautiful and wise, loved him for him. He would give up his dreams of being normal, for her.

But this love turned Dorian sour.

This burning hatred for Caine began to grow, and when he became Resistance leader, he decided, for the benefit of the city, Caine should no longer be a part of it. He banned Caine from seeing the woman he loved and gave Caine the truth; he was a monster.

Lightly to say, this sent Caine into an outrage.

He painted the city red, people screamed his name, smirking as he went along. He enjoyed it, he liked being the thing of nightmares, he licked the blood off his fingertips after each murder. He let himself live up to his reputation.

Dorian did what he thought was best and shipped Caine off. The last thing Caine would see of Saxet was his brother's arm wrapped around the waist of the woman he loved. A tear rolling down her cheek.

Even now, as he lies on his bed; years and years passed, grey hairs where there used to be brown, a scar the length of his arm, reading out his real surname, he looks at a photograph of him and his girl. The black and white photo is the only thing he has left of his previous life in Saxet, and the only thing he has to remind him of her.

He looks at the photo every night.

Something clicked in the corridors of the prison he was in, and he shot up out of bed.

No one came in during the night.

He snarled, shoving the picture into his pocket and he stood beside the door, so when it opened he could catch the culprit red handed.