Note: Hi everyone! I know, I really should be working on Atalantarah, but I got this idea, and it was so awesome... One question (virtual cookies to the person who answers this, or I can just read and review all your stories, or both): Did dumpsters exist in 1924? I'm not sure. If they didn't, then I will have to change this to something else.

Disclaimer: I do not own the incredibly awesome Hunger Games (meaning the books are awesome, not the games themselves), the slightly less awesome Twilight Saga, or anything in the incredibly awesome Hunger Games, or slightly less awesome Twilight Saga. :(

Enjoy! (and remember to review!)

EDIT: After re-reading this, I noticed many typos... now they should all be fixed. I also made some other minor fixes, rearranging a few words, adding a bit more detail here and there... I would like to completely redo it, because I feel like now my writing is a lot better, but I don't want to change the story too much. If anyone has an opinion on this, feel free to PM me.

Prologue:

Happy memories are good things. They are things to cling to when everything is wrong. They are that little burst of sunshine after a horrible storm. They were how I survived those years of torture.

We were a perfect family: a happy, pretty, working mother; a strong, healthy, kind father; and two little girls –my sister and I- , twins, sweet, cute and angelic.

We were troublemakers, sure, but we always got away with it. Combine my meticulous planning and plotting with my sister's ability to get us out of a bad situation by finding the perfect hiding spot or talking her way out of anything, and we were the ideal trickster duo. We were each others' best friends, and could never be separated. We were peas in a pod. And our names had alliterated as well, to further strengthen the bond.

Of course it didn't last. Nothing that happy and innocent does.

January 1924, Chamonix, France

I don't remember the exact date it happened. All I remember is that it was January, right before the first Olympic Winter Games. I was with my sister, walking around town, watching the preparations. We were seventeen at the time, carefree and oblivious. We were tourists, of course, and it was the vacation of a lifetime. At least, it was supposed to be.

It was late, almost one o'clock in the morning, I think, when it happened.

We were walking along a particularly dark street, trying to hurry home. We were out much later than we planned.

And then, out of nowhere, he came.

The man who attacked us was so strikingly beautiful, we hesitated, not sure what he wanted. Next thing I knew, my sister was on the ground, screaming. On the palm of her hand was a crescent-shaped cut, bleeding and bleeding.

I ran.

The man looked at me, then back at my sister. I guess he figured he could always come back to her later, to finish her off, because he followed me.

I was never as fast as my twin, so the strange man caught me quickly. He bit me, on the back of my neck, where my sweater had slipped.

I thought I was done for.

But then, a miracle happened. A shadow leaped out of the darkness, and attacked my assailant.

"No, Laurent," my attacker snarled, in a velvety voice, "she's my kill."

Laurent smiled. "Not anymore." And then he lunged, swiping at him.

I stumbled through the streets, pressing my hand to where the man bit me. I felt blood trickle steadily through my fingers. Finally, I reached my sister.

She was trying to crawl away. I wanted to help her, but… my neck. It was burning, burning hotter than fire, hotter than the sun. The heat spread through my body.

"Help," my sister croaked.

"We… can't… stay…" I managed to choke out. What would my parents think if they saw me? They would assume all the wrong things…

We stumbled into a dumpster, and simultaneously collapsed in pain.

The raging burn inside me grew, covering my whole body. I was on the verge of blacking out, but I knew if I lost consciousness, I would never awaken again.

I can't tell you how long it lasted: maybe minutes, maybe hours, maybe days. All I know is that whenever I could find that tiny amount of strength to open my eyes, the festivities of the Olympics continued around me. Every once in a while, if the top of the dumpster was open, I caught a glimpse of a newspaper, or something that would have my sister's picture, or mine, with "Have you seen me?" underneath, in French. I wanted to yell, "I'm right here!", but I couldn't open my mouth, not without screaming and flailing, and possibly hurting my sister. Sometimes, my gaze flickered over to her. I could barely see her in my peripheral vision, and I couldn't turn my head, as hard as I tried, without setting off the rest of my body thrashing. I could only see her flaming red hair, covered in grime. A little part of me wondered if my equally blazing hair was that dirty as well. But then, my eyes would close, and all I could see was blackness.

I resisted. I wanted to survive, I wanted my sister to survive, I wanted to return to my family, and tell them all that happened. For a bit, that little insane part of me wanted to thank that Laurent for distracting that other man, but Laurent had wanted to kill me too, hadn't he? Maybe it would be better not to be killed, after all that had happened so far? Huh. Nope, everything just got worse. Maybe I should've gotten him to kill me. It would have saved a lot of pain.

Through all this the burn continued. It seeped from the wound in my neck, down my shoulders, scorching my arms, sizzling my fingers down to each once-perfect nail. It traveled down my torso, boiling every vital organ inside my body. It crept down my legs, eating up my feet, baking my toes. But by far the worst was when it slunk up my neck, feeling its way around my head, and settling itself, roasting my brain. It was hard to say where the burn was hottest. I knew if I sank into blackness, nothingness, I would never come back, never see my sister again. I didn't want that to happen.

But one day, I'm not sure when, so maybe I shouldn't say 'day'… one moment, the tips of my fingers, stopped burning. The massive heat was retreating. It spiraled away from my palms, my wrists, my forearms. It happened slowly, but surely. It even began moving away from my toes, my ankles, my shins. I hoped my sister was getting the same relief, if not more.

I waited for the burning to go away. It eventually did, but first, it settled itself in my heart. My pulse was racing, trying to compete with this burn, but the burning eventually won. My heart shuddered, and then died. The burning disappeared.

I sat up, for the first time in a while. I wanted to scream, but when I opened my mouth, a perfect, pale hand covered it. I brushed it away, settling for a feral growl that somewhat relieved my tension.

"Roni?" said a soft tinkling voice from behind me.

I whirled around. I realized that I was so much faster than before. I turned my mind away from that distracting (but very true) thought, and examined the person behind me. She had bright red hair, and her skin was very pale, but perfect. I realized that she was the person who covered my mouth. She almost looked friendly, approachable, but… her eyes. They were a striking bright crimson. I started shying away, when I realized something. She looked almost like… but that couldn't be.

"Vicki?" I ventured. I realized that my voice had the same tinkling quality. How strange. "Is that you?"

"Are you really Veronica?" she asked, and I knew I had to answer; otherwise it could go on forever.

"Yes, I am. Now answer me: are you my sister?"

She laughed a pretty laugh. "Of course I am your sister! How could you not recognize me? You, on the other hand… what happened?"

"What happened to you? You are so pale, and your eyes… they are blood red."

"Blood." she said, almost trance-like.

"Blood…" I replied, knowing what she meant. My throat was burning, thirsting for blood.

"Its dark out." she muttered, and I knew what she meant.

We leaped out of the dumpster, vaulting gracefully above all the garbage. I saw a girl walking by herself. She was heading away from me.

I ran, silently. When I leaped, I could smell it inside her. I sank my teeth into her flesh, and sucked the life out of her.

Three innocent people later, I realized that I wasn't human anymore. I was a thing of legends. I was a monster. I was… a vampire.

And if I was a vampire, my sister was too.

You probably have heard of her.

My sister, Victoria, was a vampire. And there was nothing I could do about it.