Thank you to CH who created such delightful characters for all of us in FF to play with. This teaser, assuming I don't get lynched, is the beginning of my attempt to rehabilitate Bill Compton. Everyone deserves a second chance I figure (or a third or a forth depending on your cannon). So lets see how it goes. I invite you to take a journey with me, to the dark side? Perhaps, but it will end with a white light.

Merick

I have made mistakes over the course of my lives. I say lives because I have had two; a mortal one, ended just after the American Civil War and an immortal one that I intend to end today. In two hundred or so years I have seen a great deal of misery and I have inflicted my share, and now I have to set it right because I believe that it may be my only opportunity to save my immortal soul, assuming it can be saved. I hope that my blood and my body, freely given to the universe will restore the balance that my very being has disturbed.

My name is William Compton. That is the name I was given at birth, it is the name my mother called me and the name my wife called me. I have been called many things since, but I regret losing that name. It was perhaps the only honest name I have ever had. That, and Father, and I lost that as well.

I was a landowner, a soldier and a gentleman, and then I was not. I did my duty, I fought and I was released from those duties and tried to return home, but I never made it. I fell prey to a monster, a monster who was to become my mentor, and my mirror. But understand, I cannot lay the blame for my transformation at her feet. It is true that I had little choice but follow her orders, as my maker there was a bond I could not break; and she tested that bond in the beginning, commanding me to do terrible things in the name of survival, she said. But I cannot call it that. It was not survival, for her it was play, and eventually it became as such for me. And therein lies my sin. She released me from her service, as much as any maker can, and though I have tried to convince myself that I have changed my ways, at the core of it all, I have not.

I found another powerful woman to serve, or perhaps she found me; Sophie Anne was even more cunning than Lorena, and far more methodical. On her orders I seduced and deceived an innocent human from the very place I had lived my mortal life, a place called Bon Temps, Louisiana. I am certain that Sophie Anne saw it as very comical to send me there; she arranged for an inheritance to come my way upon the death of another man named Compton. I have no doubt that his premature passing was on her order, though I chose to say nothing.

I have killed people myself or brought them to an inevitable death at the hands of my Queen. But of all my sins the destruction of the innocent creature in Sookie Stackhouse haunts me the most. When she cast me from her life I suffered the worst guilt I believe I have ever felt. Her eyes, her mouth cursing me are images that even now sit in the forefront of my mind as I wait here, on my porch, on the house I have allowed to fall to ruin in a fit of pique, or perhaps poetic justice. I have fallen to ruin as well, and soon my remains will join the dirt and rot of this place. The sun will be up soon and its rays will take me, burning the evil from my soul I hope; just as its glow does to all vampires.

Sookie is gone, long departed from Bon Temps, the place now poison to her because of me. I have not tried to contact her, to tell her of my intentions, that would take something from the act; not that I pretend any nobility with it. News of my death will likely reach her at some point, or at least news of my disappearance. I have disappeared before. I hope it will bring her some measure of peace, I owe her that much.

I wonder who will get this house? What's left of it, with the roof that leaks and the banister that is missing every third rung. I wonder if there will be a scorch mark on the wood where I fall finally. Perhaps I should step out into the garden just so that the whole thing doesn't catch on fire and cause trouble for the parish fire brigade. I would hate to see my last act cause anyone harm, assuming I will somehow be aware of the consequences of my last act. How does the poem go? 'Train for ill, and not for good'? I'll move out onto the grass. If Andy Bellefleur and his family inherit the place I want there to at least be something standing for them. Perhaps his little wife will want to raise their family here. It would be a good thing, to bring laughter back to this property. It has been too quiet.

Sookie's house is still just a few minutes away, across the cemetery, her driveway still running to Hummingbird Lane. Someone else rents it from her, I don't know whom. I don't go around, there are too many bad memories there for me. I loved her there; I made love to her there. And there it was that I lied to her about my intentions, at least at the first. I grew to love her, but by the time my honesty was enough to wake me from my evil deed it was too late, too far gone. There were too many deceptions for her to ever forgive me. I tried. I stood by her, I fought for her, and I shed blood for her. She married Eric Northman. He made her happy. I sincerely hope that he still makes her happy. She grew from the girl I knew into such a beautiful, self-confidant woman, and mostly in spite of me. I do not begrudge her any happiness.

The sun is coming. I can just see the kiss of orange in the sky. I am ready. I strike no pose, I do not lie down, or throw my arms open to offer myself to God. I simply stand up, and walk out to the road and wait, feeling the warmth beginning on my skin as I think of the warmth I have lost.

It is enough and I want it to be done.