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"Sorry, I intend to stay anti-social and single for the next 4 years..."

Yet another rejection.

And heck, coming from someone two years younger than myself, this was plain embarrassment beyond what I could handle.

When was my love life ever going to go smoothly anyway?

I shoved aside the thought with a disgruntled sigh and flailed my arms in bed.

"You're a stupid idiot! A big, fat, stupid, idiot!" Emphasising on each word as I whacked myself with my headpillow, I rolled around in bed and fell off like the clumsy mess that I was.

Julian, my childhood friend who was also my classmate in elementary school, was probably laughing at me as usual for crushing so hard on another guy like the hopeless romantic that I was.

"He clearly loves you man, he's just terrible at expressing the fact that he's not ready to dive into a relationship now..." Julian shook his head sadly. "You've got it hard man..."

He was right about me.

Unable to hold the shit in my life together just like the eggs that slipped down the sink when I tried to make myself omelettes.

Maybe I was a failure in life afterall. Maybe other than being a nurse, I was just a klutz who couldn't get anything right. Maybe I should just throw in the towel for my love life for once and for all, right?

Earlier in the day I was on my usual ward rounds, checking on patients and going about my day as per normal. The army of doctors had already stampeded the ward at 8 a.m. sharp, and they had come to a screeching halt in front of Mr Jones's, whose head had sprouted a lump so massive that they were taking their time deducing the cause and how they would go about treating it. Armed with their COWs (Computers on Wheels), they were frantically typing away at the keyboard, while the other nurses who were shuffling by the cubicle peeked at the commotion as well, and speculations that it was a massive tumor spread across the ward like wildfire.

The mixed ward had a few new inpatients, but thankfully they weren't stirring as much of a ruckus as the last bunch had. As I went around transporting patients with pat slides for their trolley baths with the help of my fellow enrolled nurse, Kayne, I came across one of the new inpatients who wasn't as responsive as the rest.

"Mrs Heiner, I'll be bringing you for a bath now alright?" I placed my palm behind her shoulder as I gave her a reassuring smile. "Are you in any discomfort today?"

I had dealt with patients who were unresponsive before. Emma Heiner was no different. She had acquired unilateral ptosis (drooping of one eyelid) as a result from a stroke that she had suffered from, and she was barely able to move her body. She could blink her left eye, but her right was paralyzed.

"Blink your eye once if there is nothing wrong, and twice if you are experiencing discomfort." I took a quick glance at her vitals machine and the readings were stable. Earlier on, Kayne had brought one of the staff nurses, Eleanor, to ensure Mrs Heiner had taken her medication along with breakfast. Given his competency, I wouldn't have to worry about how some of the student nurses had tendencies to administer medicine and not sign on the patient's intake and output charts. And that being said, Emma should be fine.

Or at least that's what I believed she would be.

One blink. Alright. Time to give her a shower.

Kayne and I brought her to the shower where we undressed her and prepared the adult diapers before we gave her a good wash. A wry smile parted across her face when Kayne shampooed her hair, and we could tell that she was happy. And seeing her happy made us feel equally as happy. Each time we rolled her over, I got reminded of how someday, I myself would land in that position, and my heart soured a little.

And when the time comes, would there be another nurse like myself, to care for me when I'm old, wrinkled, feeble and incapable of doing anything myself? When relying on someone to see to my welfare 24/7 feels nothing more like a burden to society and people around me?

Those usual depressing, yet deep thoughts, sinked into my mind as I washed Mrs Heiner's arms.

"Mrs Heiner, this feels good doesn't it?" Kayne grinned as he massaged her hair. Her smile alone was more than enough satisfaction to keep him going for the rest of the day.

Before we shifted her back to her ward bed, I felt her bony, paper-thin skin against my hands as I held onto the cot side. She was holding my hand and gazing at me in the eye, inevitably unable to express herself and the gratitude for our nursing care.

But I knew. And I could feel the warmth emanating from her even though her years were numbered, because she still could look on the bright side of life. A tiny, wrinkly smile was all I needed to face the rest of the day. It didn't matter to me how much these people felt like they were cumbersome or a bother to my daily routine: I was striving to give them the best care that I could, even if it sometimes meant having to work OT apart from my already hectic shift work.

"I heard he knocked himself against the bed and that bump sprouted," Kayne raised a brow as he opened his locker in the staffroom, "and now the doctors are busy trying to find a way to drain all that edema (fluid) and ease the swelling without damaging his vessels because it's near his brain."

"That's cool," I took a gulp of plain water as I sat down on the couch, "and to think it got so big to the size of a metastatic tumor overnight. That's incredible."

"This is why the medical industry is interesting," Kayne chuckled as he grabbed a packet of cranberries to munch on, "you get to experience new things everyday, explore new theories, and differential diagnoses...I'm still amazed at how his cognitive ability isn't impaired with that balloon sized tumor half the size of his head bulging out at the side."

Being a nurse eh? Was that really what I was fated to do?

Dwelling on his words, I replayed flashbacks from my day at work in my head as I stared emptily at the ceiling.

Cling.

That sound.

Cling.

That familiar sound.

My family's curse resounded in my ears once more.

Cling.

That tingling sensation each night as soon as the clock struck twelve midnight. The hairs on my limbs raising with adrenaline as soon as it was time for me to take flight.

My body pined for a kill. It sensed a target, possibly even two tonight. Two turners. Definitely within the radius of 3 blocks. I could smell them out.

Those unclean beings that were monsters created by the Government's mass vaccination exercise.

They didn't even know that mixing the vaccines would create a toxic concoction that made people turn into zombies by mutating their SOD1 gene which expresses proteins that fights DNA damage in neurons.

If I wasn't asleep, dreaming of women with their faces blurred, painting their fingernails in a bloodbath from sinking their nails into their necks and shrieking in mute horror as they helplessly watched their bodies ripped to shreds beyond their control, I was probably the one to kill them before they turned.

And every single time, those voices would just ring in my head. Cries for help. Cries of desperation.

It's not my goddamn fault that you have to die nonetheless, though.

It was in my blood to kill them as soon as the night of turning arose. I was born for this.

And yet those voices always haunted me in my sleep. Maybe I was going paranoid afterall.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything...I just wanted the best for my child..."

The same old words spilling off the tongue of yet another overly-concerned parent who was blindly obeying orders so the military force wouldn't wipe out their family.

Then again, rebel forces were hidden deep underground, including my family. Although I was working as a nurse during the day at a community hospital, and had undergone the vaccinations before, I didn't turn for some reason which my Uncle explained was due to a mutation in our family's DNA.

Our RAD51D, DMC1 and XRCC2 genes, unlike that of any other normal human being's, have far more active DNA repair mechanisms and telomerases that extend the half-life of DNA at a dramatic pace, enabling us to discard and replace DNA as well as to regenerate new organs without resulting in a spread of cancer-like metastatic cells that cause people to turn into those man-eating zombie humanoids.

Who was I, really?

I didn't have a clue. I was lost in my sea of thoughts.

But the one thing I couldn't ignore was this tingling sensation, and my pining for gore.

Since young I had been exposed to it in the nastiest way possible. I remembered that my school pinafore used to be white.

Until that day.

The man landed head first right before my eyes.

I had just witnessed a suicide play before my eyes.

Blood splattered across the concrete and all over my clothing. It was crimson red everywhere. I was drenched in his blood.

And yet, I admired its beauty like the lunatic that I was, as I saw his insides spilling out of his chest that had exploded apart.

This experience should have been a traumatic one, but I remained unfazed by it all.

I dialled for the cops and an ambulance as I stood rooted to the ground, gazing at the corpse as if nothing had happened, registering the reality before me within seconds.

I didn't scream.

It wasn't even a drama series on television.

It was real.

Blood, raw and real in its purest form.

It wasn't until someone had dragged me away that I moved from that spot. Thankfully the cops didn't bring me in for questioning because I was soaking in blood; I mean, what was I supposed to kill the man with? My schoolbag?

And since then my bloodlust remained. Sometimes my colleagues would be irked at work, ever since the days we were in the Anatomy Halls of the University, I was constantly fascinated by the feeling of holding organs in my hands and blood that stained my biohazard gloves.

It led me to the harbour, where the sea breeze blew against my face with a refreshing scent of sea salt.

Far away from civilisation in all its tranquility - the very silence that I needed, an escape from my hectic daily life cluttered with work, endless chains of thoughts, and an unsuccessful love life.

Zuji was early as usual, his silhouette casting a dark shadow over the rooftop of the lighthouse as he held on to the railing.

"You're late again, Yuka," he smirked, his fangs sticking out from the grin that parted his thin lips.

"On time," I accentuated my words as I rolled my eyes at him, "you're the one who's always pointlessly early."

"I mean, c'mon," he shrugged, "it's been a good decade or so that we've been doing this without being caught, right?"

"You make it sound like a crime," Lillian stepped out from the shadows as she strode down the pavement towards us. "We're helping people out here, they're the ones who caused this. The fucking government." She bit her matte red lips in disgust, exposing her fangs underneath.

And to think my day job was a stark contrast of this "shady" business I did at night with my extended family of slayers.

"So, Yuka, have you picked up anything? Any turners?" She ran her fingers through her hair and looked at me in distaste, as though she expected me to reply instantaneously. The querulous and demanding leader of us nightwalkers. How typical.

Remind me why anyone like her was even calling the shots again?

I rolled my eyes as I turned my back on her and let out a disconcerted sigh. Sometimes I wished she could use her own powers, rather than to rely on my half-assed senses to pick up something and give her the signal.

"Anything?" She shook her head from side to side, as if to imply that I should have already picked up something and given them a coordinate of some sort. "Oh come on, you're the one with the strongest sense among us present here. And you still haven't picked up a thing? Not even a whiff?"

What a bunch of lies. You've got powers yourself too, don't you? Why don't you use them? Oh boy.

I could feel the rage surging through my veins, and I instinctively curled my fists, preparing to deliver a punch to her smug little face. I'd like to see her lose some of those precious silver fangs so she'd learn a lesson to shut up and stop ordering people around.

"Two, but they're both mine today." I turned and faced her with a glassy stare, my eyes colder than a blizzard that sent a chill floating through the atmosphere.

"Okay, okay," Lillian raised her hands in front of her with an air of mockery, as though conceding defeat, "enough with the killer gaze. You can have them as you please."

It didn't help that I was merely a lackey. She and Zuji were always calling the shots, but the one with the strongest senses was no one other than myself.

I was merely following orders.

Since they were my elder cousins, there was nothing I could do but let the "superiors" call the shots, as useless as they seemingly were. I ran my fingers through my hair as I shot her another glare.

"My prey, my kill."

Lillian and Zuji shrugged as they sat on top of the lighthouse.

"Go Yuka!" Zuji's call echoed across the harbour, fading into the distance as I fled towards to city once more.

I had been doing this for years. It had become second nature to me. I looked far from human during this point of the night, and my ego refused to let me scurry the streets without throwing a hood over my head to hide the hideous monster that lay underneath the guise.

My nails were literally razor sharp claws that could pierce through all the hearts of those boys who toyed with my feelings in the past.

With people like me around, optimetrists would go out of business. I could see ants crawling from miles away, every crack of a branch from a bat lifting off in flight from a tree in the shadows of the night, and even the slightest feeler movement of the crickets resting in the grass.

If anything, I was a predator. Maybe even an animal.

The caliginous sky was like an eternal abyss of darkness. The only lights in the city came from the vibrant neon lights of pubs, discos and bars in the vibrant nightlife scene. The streets were thronged with drunk teenagers and young adults making out after hooking up over drinks. Smoke wafted through the air like dancing spirals in the alleyways.

Typical. I remained impervious to it all.

All I craved was the kill the turners: afterall, it was for the greater good of society before the outbreak of the first nocturnal epidemic.

The night air filled my lungs as I breathed.

In and out.

One right around the corner.

In and out.

The cigarette bud slipped from her trembling fingers and extinguished as it fell to the ground into a puddle of rainwater from the night before.

I could sense it: the adrenaline rush in me put my hairs on end and my heart palpitated inside my chest. I was ready to pounce. I was ready to grab her and flee from the scene, into the darkness of the night.

"M-Mum? Are you alright?" A shaky voice devoid of masculinity echoed from behind the wall. My target was going into a state of frenzy before him, and clearly he was unexperienced seeing a turning event because his knees had stiffened into place.

Another male voice? Her son, perhaps?

I took a step back precariously, fearing that he would see me.

"J-Jo..." My target's voice went raspy as she cracked her neck from side to side, her joints stiffening as she moaned in pain. All part of the turning process that I was far too familiar in witnessing. Her son's life was in danger, and I had to act fast. He was being cornered into a dead end road, and she was coming in hot.

Following his shriek, I dashed into the scene and grabbed my target forcefully, and took a deep bite of her common carotid artery at the neck region. I had to dispel of her illness to prevent her from infecting others quickly, but at the same time, kill the turner in the process.

"Get out of here, kid. She'll vaporize within the next hour or so." The expelled particles were still contagious for a couple of hours and I didn't want this annoying dude to mess things up for me.

"W-who are you?" In his valiant attempt to muster whatever inch of courage he had left, I bit back my laughter and threw the cloak over my head.

"You don't want to know, kid. I'm just an unknown who saved your life." My usual response to every person who discovered me. There it was.

But what I did not expect was for him to start trailing my movements ever since.

[A/N: Finally wrote the first chapter after so long! My University final exams ended a few days back and I've been dying to find time to write, and unlike my older novels, I'm deciding to make chapters slightly lengthier and from a first person point of view this time. Do let me know how you are liking the concept of this book so far in the comments! I'd like to hear from you! Remember to leave a vote and share this with your friends if you liked the chapter! See you guys in the next chapter, when I am on task to release on a more frequent basis :) ]