Oh the humorous irony, I thought. Here I was, throwing a dagger into a makeshift target board. Every time, it struck closet and closer to my goal, the bull’s eye. I was throwing this-this weapon, trying to imagine the creature, the one with blood red eyes, fangs like a demon, and dead black as the midnight sky.

I was going to get my revenge.

You see, unlike average people, I was not born to two human parents, but to a mix: a human mother and a fatherly demon. Don’t get me wrong, they were great, but they made me what I was: Half demon, half human.

The day that my father told me about who he truly was, it freaked me out. I mean, it explained a lot of my, let us say ‘talents’, that set me apart from the mediocre crowd. I had a voice that turned heads for miles, and I was more athletic than the other human offspring. School wasn't that bad, but it made me stand out, which was dangerous.

I was not the same person I was one year ago: helpless, half-awake, and scared out of my freaking mind. I watched as the dark creature, swept over her white body, sucked dry of any blood, a distant, lost look played a dance upon her soft eyes. Then when it swept away from her, just as quickly as it had come, I caught a glimpse of my lover’s soft eyes, just as they rolled into the back of her head. My sweet Rose was gone.

That was the memory that fueled my rage, my revenge-seeking emotion.

I thrust the dagger for the final time into the board. Pleased that I had hit the bull’s eye so many times, I decided to call it quits for now. But I would be back. And I would always imagine the horrible memory, of red, white, and black.