A/N: Oh yes, another death-ficlet. I got the suggestion to try to write James's death, which presented a challenge to me, since I find it very hard to write evil. Thank you to Poisoned Princess for doing some beta-work and convincing me that this James was evil enough. Everyone else: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just got into the evil hunter's mind and interpreted his last moment.

Action

It feels like getting robbed.

I don't care much for the fact that these tame golden-eyed vamps are going to kill me (finally a testament of their true nature!). What really irks me is that I didn't get to finish my show, and it was such a brilliantly planned show. This human, Bella, this little snack, was so perfect. It was only sheer luck (for me) that the wind betrayed the flowing elixir within her. Plus, when her vamp, hell, the entire coven, stood up for her, I just knew I had to have her.

We made a show of leaving the area. Well, almost all of us. Laurent, that creole fool, washed his hands of my obsessions (as if his own weren't just as stained with human blood as mine were), and left. But Victoria, my beautiful, fatal goddess stayed, and we made up a game plan. The human's scent was one of a kind, so tracking her would not be hard. To get her squeaky clean protectors off our backs, there was a real challenge.

I thought we had covered our back, planned for every contingency. Now here I am, about to burn. That lousy snack should be the one burning.

Wait…

I bit her.

She is burning, just not in the 'being emptied of life' kind of way. I almost want to laugh. She is becoming a vampire, what else is there to do about it? Such irony! While the flames no doubt soon will be licking me, my every limb, my prey is now experiencing a much wilder fire spreading throughout her veins. This must be one of those moments humans would define as taking one for the team. On the other hand, this will make the second time my prey gets away from me, and no one escapes me. Not even the old fool could escape me, the one who turned that girl at the asylum, and she smelled so good. Then again, that vamp was old, crippled by his perverse feelings towards humans. To work with them, care for them. What madness had affected him?

He hardly saw me coming, he was an easy kill.

Even if these wimps hardly qualify as vamps in my book, they have strength in numbers, they're cunning. How else could they have found us, right in the middle of my little show? And there it is again; the show. It should have been a spectacular show; slowly building up its crescendo, reaching its climax in spattered mirrors and the human's limp body as a magnificent centerpiece, complete with my recording. Now it's turning into an ironic farce. It would have been the best show of my life. Had I been born (as in born of a woman) in this century, I might have made a good film maker. The setting is just as important as the scene played out.

The fire beside me is set, and I don't scream, don't plead for my life. I don't bow to those who I am clearly superior to. I hear the human's screams in the background, I can almost hear my venom setting her on fire, vein by vein, and I laugh. Suddenly, something is on me, legs clasped tightly around my neck. I thrash, trying to get the offensive thing away from me, and for a moment, the grip loosens. I look up, and I am stunned. I would know that face anywhere, I stalked it for weeks. The girl from the asylum, my first mess-up. She is a glorious vamp, even if she is a wimp: teeth bared, eyes alight, cold determination oozing from her. That's irony. Getting killed by your own (former) prey.

I know what she's going to do before she even does it. Who wouldn't, really? It's the end, premature as it might be, but still an end. My final take.

My girl rips my head from my body.

Cut.

A/N: My first wobbly steps into the realms of Evil. Good, bad? Review and let me know!