Scarred Angel Of The Night

Summary: One Fateful Night....


I love my master.
I\'m a human, and he\'s a vampire.
So what?
I love him unconditionally.
He saved me from such evil monsters and gave me a new life.
Yeah, he saved me from evil monsters called human and gave me a new life as a vampire\'s companion.
I don\'t mind it at all, because you see, it\'s amazing how human can become the most cruel creature on earth, ecspecially when they have the power to do that.
Let me tell you my legend. I was raised in an orphanage, and at age 7, a rich old guy bought me. He said that he would make me his son. Well, it was true that he bought me gorgeous clothes, and taught me how to read and write, I knew it was essential for my future, but I also certainly knew that his lessons at night gave me a clue to whatever kind of future he expected me to grow in to be. I disliked him forcing me to bend over and marking my back with his cane. I hated the pain, and I hated myself for being forced to submit because of it. I hated my weakness, because if I was strong enough, I would be able to push his body when he lied on top of me, or bite him when he ate my mouth, or punch him when he tied my arms to his bedpost, or kick him when he forced my legs open.
But, I was never strong enough, so I just lied beneath him, trying to breath between my choking sobs and muffled screams, while he pistoned against me for god knew how long till usually I passed out of the pain and blood. I hated how hurtful it took to walk at the following days. I hated the doctor coming to sew me when I won\'t stop bleeding even though I stuffed myself with tissues and napkins. I hated how I slept with fear, and jerked up at the middle of the night from my nightmares of me being pregnant with his child, or simply me being his slaves till I\'m as old as him and he still won\'t die. But still, I survived all that experiences for 3 years, simply because I was afraid to get more pain if I rebelled. I thought I just have to wait till someday he died and I would be free.
But, I was wrong. One day, he got bored with me and gave me to his son, who only looked at me as an animal. He favored showing me at his parties and forcing me to serve his friends. He liked it ecspecially when I was taken and bleeding from both ends. He liked to put objects on my ass, checking how much of a whore I was. My pleading and my tears only brought his mocks and further pain and humiliation, because he taught an animal wasn\'t supposed to have self-conciousness. I started to have sleepless nights, and passed out at afternoon, only to wake up of steroid injection in the middle of his party at night. Any food and water started to taste bitter and made me vomit. But still, his doctor kept me alive with his medicines and vitamins. This kept going on, till one day I realized if I still wanted to stay alive and sane, I had to run , or else either my body or my mind would give up first.
So, one day I managed to flee from that castle like prison, by hiding myself on a garbage cart which thrown away on a garbage day. I brought some clothes and some things worth selling to start my living on the street. But, I was only a dirty, skinny, pale and dumb 12 years old boy at that time, so it was real hard to look for money to live. All people I met only look at me as a useless mutt. They always yelled something like \"Shoo, look at another place!\" and if I tried to speak, they would grab their broom to kick me away. That was common at this time, when most poor homeless youngsters were either pickpockets or hoodlums. But I never gave up hope. I would survive this.
That was what I thought, until one fateful night, when I was sleeping in my cardboard boxes in the dark corner under the town bridge, I was robbed and gang-raped by some 5 hoodlums. Well, I kicked and punched like mad to defend myself, but it was proven that I was still weak as ever. And I guess my rebellion only enticed their perseverence to resort to further violence. They ripped my clothes and beat me senseless. I even heard my ribs cracked at one time. So, I was left there, cold, gasping, bleeding and lonely, without any things worth to buy bread to continue my life for another day. Whatever else do I have to sell? My battered body? And I still have to think of another place to sleep and find another cardboard boxes to shelter. That, if I were able to stand on my trembling legs and walk starkly nude to the town.
But first, I wanted to bath, to wash myself from my blood and their sticky cum, and strangely the cold river looked so appealling... So, I slowly crawled to the river, feeling first the piercing pain of the icy dark cold water, and then the following numbness, which swept away all the pain of my bruises and cuts. And suddenly, I just wanted to sleep and never opened my eyes again, because all my opened eyes saw were only a world filled with things unpleasurable, cold and painful to me. It seemed like finally god has taken a pity on me, for everything suddenly went dark and blissfully unpainful, except for this pain on my chest.