The Runaway Hybrid

Since the day I was born, I was different and unwanted. I am half vampire and half werewolf. Most hybrids die during pregnancy since they are weak until they become older. In society, there is a myth that hybrids are strong and dangerous but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I am a very weak person; I get sick easily and as a young child, I was always at the doctor’s office. I can’t even transform into a wolf, like most werewolves. I have fangs like a vampire but none of the strength or other abilities. I can transform my hands into claws like other werewolves but that is it. In this world, there are 3 main races vampires, werewolves, and humans. None of them get along with the other. Vampires don’t trust the werewolf in me, and the werewolves don’t trust the vampire in me. While humans fear both vampires and werewolves. I grew up in a small human village.

I remember my parents trying to keep people from finding out about what I am. They said they chose to live in a human village because it would be easier to hide what I am. I don’t know how, but my secret got out and the whole village knew. My parents started keeping me inside as the villagers would throw rocks at me.

When I was around 5 years old my parents disappeared. I went to a nearby creek to play and when I came home, there was no one there. All their things were exactly where they usually are, so they didn’t pack anything up. I waited and waited. After a couple of days, a large man with a tattoo of three claw marks on his neck broke into to the house, claimed it was his and kicked me out. I don’t know if they died or just left me behind.

Since then, I have been a homeless orphan. The villagers continue to throw rocks at me when they see me or avoid me like I’m contagious. I was lucky to find an older woman that pities me. She would give me the scraps from her restaurant and let me sleep in the alley behind the restaurant. Her name was Agnes, her husband, Liam, hated that she was feeding me. He refers to me as a freak of nature and when Agnes wasn’t around, he would beat me. I learned when to leave to avoid him as much as possible.

After 8 years of being a homeless orphan trying to survive on the streets, I came upon an abandoned cottage in the woods when I was running from the village kids. It was small but had its charm. It was a Victorian-style home made of stone and wood. Some vines were growing up on the sides of the house. With some hard work and time, I was able to repair the leaking roof and clear out the weeds that had taken over. I decided this would be my home from now on. Far away from the village and other races.

First, I needed to find a way to sustainably feed myself without having to go back to town all the time. I can do some hunting for smaller prey, but I need vegetables and fruit too. I went back to the village and stole seeds of vegetables and fruit I knew I could grow more of at my cottage. I was a master thief at this point since it was the only way for me to survive. Luckily, I am small so it’s easy to sneak around. I searched through trash to find some old broken furniture and brought it back to the house to fix and use.

I planted my seeds and soon I had my own personal garden. It wasn’t much but enough to get by since it was just me. Finding this little cottage was my saving grace. Being alone in the peace of nature where no one bothers me has finally brought me a small piece of happiness.