The steam rose up around her face, factory noises clanging around her noisily masking her heavy breathing. Her fur was heavy and matted, smelling of sweat, and the oil and dust from the sweatshop her father worked at. His body lay on the ground by the entrance, where their pursuers had held him down then shot him in the head. How Ariel wished she hadn’t sat there and watched them do that, when her father had told her to hide. Now, one of the hunters was feet behind her. His fingers dug into her hair, and he shouted something in French as he pulled her close to him. She turned and leaped at him, her jaws clamping onto his throat. She twisted her head to the right, making a satisfying snap as his neck broke. His rifle was way too big for her to use, but the Colt at his side was small enough for her... She pulled it out of its holster and cocked it while she ran. Her father had taught her how to use a gun if the hunters came for them, but she wasn’t expecting to need to use a gun for another few years. There were a pile of dirty rags and shirts ahead. She dashed for them, not looking behind her as she heard footsteps behind her. She dove around the pile as a bullet dug into the concrete by her feet, and she gasped when a chip of the concrete buried itself into her leg.
The hunters approached noisily, completely unworried. They probably were thinking “this was a small one; it would be no problem to exterminate her.” She heard their snickering as they approached, confident in their abilities as hunters. Ariel snarled as they crept closer, then scooted against the corner, bracing her back against the wall. The hand gun was raised, and she waited for them to come around the clothes pile. A pale face came around, and she opened fire relentlessly, shooting until she was out of rounds. Her eyes shone in the darkness as she partook in her first vampire hunt, impromptu or not, the glee was completely unmistakable.