The Demon Princess and the Vampire Princes

Chapter I
All I Want Is To Forget

I wiped at my mouth, smirking at yet another successful kill. Foolish mortals. They never see it coming. I roll my eyes at all that remained of the man who had tried to seduce me. He had been asking for me to kill him. Even if I was a Demon, I was still a virgin.

I sniff around the air, scrunching up my nose. I walk into the bathroom, peeling off my clothes and letting the scorching hot water wash over my skin. I didn’t want to stay here long, risk any other humans to come in and see what was wrong. I wrap one of the disgusting motel towels around myself, hearing my phone ring suddenly.

I walk over to my jeans, pulling it out as I slowly get dressed in the dirty clothes again. “Hello?”

“Phoenix Seraphina,” dad growls firmly. He wasn’t really angry at me. His voice had a sort of growling sound to it. “Where are you?”

“I just finished feeding, dad.” I sigh, pulling my shirt over my head. “What do you need?”

“The Royal Vampire family is said to be planning war against us.” I roll my eyes. Dad always suspected everyone to be planning war against us. It was always just an excuse to get me to come back home, starving to the point of where I went raving mad.

“Dad, it’s just your imagination.”

“No, Princess, I need you to investigate.” I sigh, defeated. It was better than being stuck in Hell.

“Fine. I’ll snoop around the castle. I’ve got to go. Bye,” I say flatly, hanging up. I was sick and tired of him using me like that. Every time he was scared of an attack he always had me dragged back. This time was different. He wanted me to spy because I was unknown to other royalties. Dad always figured it was safer for me, if nobody knew.

I shrug off my frustrated feelings toward the man I once knew as my father. I didn’t need to get bent out of shape because of him. He no longer controlled me. I am my own person.

I walk out of the sleazy motel, down the street, dumping my phone and stepping on it along the way. Screw him.



I sat at the bar around midnight. I wasn’t hungry, I just wanted to forget. I wanted to forget him. Forget all of the crap he put me through. That was over thirteen years ago, but I still remembered.

One of the best and worst parts about being a Demon: I couldn’t get drunk. Of course I could get tipsy, but that was about it.

I look up as the door is opened, revealing four boys. They could’ve easily been brothers; with their matching black emo-styled hairs, and fair skin. They were all basically the same height, and barely held my attention for more than a second.

I went back to my drink, ordering a few more in the impossible hopes of getting wasted. I didn’t want to remember anything. Between when I was five and now. I didn’t want to remember.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” One of the boys from earlier asks, smirking at me.

“I was just leaving,” I say, standing up from my bar stool.

“Why so soon?”

“Because I’m not in the mood to be raped.”

“But is it rape if you want it to happen?”

I look at him, studying his features. Strong muscles, lean build, sharp teeth, tall — wait, sharp teeth?! I felt my eyes go wide, but only for a second. I kept my voice even and cold as I said, “Go fuck some other whore.”

“Why don’t you just be that whore.” In a flash, his arms were wrapped around my waist. I felt my fury grow, as I flipped him over on his back like a rag doll.

I lean down toward his ear, whispering quietly, “You don’t wanna play with me.”

I stood up, already beginning to walk away. I didn’t need to add more drama to my life. This isn’t a soap opera.



I sat down in my apartment building like every other day. Nobody knew that I lived here. If anyone did then my Dad would find me in a heartbeat.

I watch the television like any other day, still not finding out why humans found any of this entertaining. I settled on a show called Tom and Jerry. It was pointless, mindless, children’s comedy.

Just what I needed. I needed to find something to distract me from the awful memories that were trying to creep their way into my mind, forcing me to sit helplessly and watch as they tortured me. I couldn’t handle that feeling. As a Demon it would drive me to insanity. It would force me to kill and kill and kill and kill … until the feeling would leave and I could be myself again. If I even knew who I was to begin with.

All I knew was that my name was Phoenix Seraphina. I am seventeen years old. In the human world I am categorized as “African American” — I wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but from my understandings they are very beautiful. My eyes are like two flames or stars — reminding me of the Hell of which I come from. My hair is black like a raven’s feathers or endless darkness, falling just below my shoulders in natural waves. Everyone tells me that I am beautiful — but all I see is a monster in disguise.

And that is all I will ever be.