"Awaken into darkness, childe..." The words echoed in Dylan Archer's ears,
forcing their way through the darkness. He was thirsty. That was the
biggest fact of his existence right now. He forced open his eyes,
immediately wishing he hadn't as the light from the lone overhanging light
bulb assaulted his senses. His eyes were a lot more sensitive now for some
reason. As they adjusted for the glare, a beautiful round face framed by
long blond curls came into view, full lips curved into a smile.
   "What happened to me?" Dylan managed to ask. His voice was weak as was his body. The last thing he remembered was following the girl, Daphne by name back to her apartment from the restaurant. They'd started making out and she kissed down his neck and...then the pleasure had exploded through him, more intense than any sexual encounter he'd ever had. Dylan had realized that the more it went on, the weaker he'd become, but it was so powerful, that he hadn't even cared.
  "I made you into one of us, a vampire of the clan Brujah."
  "What?! Vampire, Daphne, you must have been smokin' something or something..I ain't no vampire, neither are you, vampires don't exist." Dylan stated matter of factly. He shook his head trying to ward off the growing thirst. It was making him edgy and he was actually starting to see red along the edges of his vision.
  "Here, drink." She put one pale arm to his lips and despite himself he felt his teeth sharpen and grow into fangs that pierced her wrist and he began to drink greedily. Immediately the rush went through him, just as powerful as before, the red fading. Daphne's head lolled back and she moaned.
  After only a few moments, she jerked her arm back from his mouth and licked the wound herself. Much to Dylan's surprise the puncture wound vanished as her tongue passed over it. He found he now had the strength to sit up, which he did. He was on her couch, in the living room of her apartment. Somehow she'd changed from her slinky black dress into a pair of hip hugging jeans and tight halter top that clung to her shapely frame and modest, firm breasts.
  Dylan himself was tall and strong with brown hair over blue eyes and chiseled features, dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans and nikes.
  "Oh my god...you're right...I am a vampire..." He ran his tongue over his teeth again, but they were no sharper than his canines usually were.Â
  "So am I. Dylan, how old do you think I am?" He gazed at her for a moment.
  "23 or 24?" He ventured.
  "307, not counting my mortal life." She informed him with a mischevous grin. "To be exact, I'm a Brujah Ancillae of the 7th generation, which would make you 8th generation."
  "Eighth generation? Ancillae?" Dylan wondered aloud.
  "Let me explain. Cain was the father of all vampires. He was cursed by God for killing his brother Abel to wander the earth for eternity and live off the blood of the living. Eventually he made others like him, which were considered the 2nd generation of vampires. They made more and their childer made more and so on and so forth, each generation becoming weaker as the curse of the blood was diluted. But you being only 8 times removed from Cain are still remarkably potent in today's world. There are some very weak vampires of generations as high as 14 and some say even 15. Their blood isn't even potent enough to sire a childe."
  "So what's a Brujah?" Dylan pressed, still a bit confused by all this talk of vampires and generations.
  "There are thirteen clans of vampires, all descended from one of the third generation vampires. We are the brujah. Once proud philosophers and warriors, now we're mostly just rebels and warriors." Daphne explained. "Enough talking, we need to get on with your lessons. The first lesson is Feeding. Follow me childe."
*Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â
  Daphne took Dylan to the red light district in her pitch black Lamborghini and parked in a parking lot with cracked cement overgrown with weeds in front of a boarded up convenience store that had gone out of business years before. It was dark out, the moon hung above, a sickle amongst a field of twinkling lights.
  After they parked, Daphne led Dylan on a long walk through alleys and side streets until they came to the true ghetto of the city, a long stretch of old warehouses, drug houses, brothels and run down hotels that sometimes functioned as both.
  "These are the people that we supposedly claim kinship with. They're also dinner, don't ever forget that the only thing mortals are good for are food and occasionally as servants if you can find one trustworthy enough. Most will try and kill you if given the chance and the knowledge of what you are, so you must never let them know your true nature. By the power of our blood alone we're more than a match for them. With the stolen blood flowing through your veins, you can make yourself stronger, faster, and tougher, you can also heal your wounds. To say nothing of your vampiric disciplines, special powers that we Kindred can learn. But we have to sleep during the day because the kiss of the sun's rays is fatal to us. As is fire and the claws or teeth of the lupines."
  "What's a lupine?" Dylan asked, eyeing a streetwalker that walked past, hips swaying sensuously.
  "A werewolf. They exist too, there's a lot of things that exist in the supernatural, we're just one of them. Now, do you feel that hunger, in you, that anger that's like a dog jerking at a chain trying to bubble over?"
  "Yeah..." Dylan said, eyes still on the streetwalker as she stood under a streetlight, making eyes at him. He wasn't looking at her body though, suddenly the pulsing arteries in her neck seemed to call to him, the hunger rising inside and making his vision red. A hard slap dispeled the red temporarily and he turned to Daphne in annoyance.
  "What the hell did you do that for?" Dylan asked angrily.Â
  "Because you weren't paying attention. Now listen up. Like I was saying, that anger in you is what we call the beast, it's the result of Cain's sin, the curse part of the curse if you will. If you're not careful all of the time with it, it can slip it's bonds off and take over, driving you into a frenzy in which you will try to kill everything around you, or you will run away, killing anything or anyone in your way. Either way, someone'll probably die. The only real way to keep it in check is to try and obey your moral code. Try to keep your humanity alive. It's what I follow, the Road of Humanity. If you do that, you can hold off the beast-"
  "Heya handsome...looking for a good time?" A silky voice interrupted. Dylan looked up to see the hooker suddenly standing right there in front of the two of them.
  "Go ahead Dylan, you know you want to..." Daphne said with a grin that showed off her fangs.
  "Sure, in here..." Dylan said, taking the hooker's wrist and leading her into the shadows of the alley. Before she could protest, he was on her, kissing her neck, searching for the right spot.
  "Hold on there Romeo," She said, putting her palms flat against his chest and trying to push him back. "I need to see some green fir-OOH!" She exclaimed as he sank his fangs in, lost in the ecstasy of the moan. She began to moan and whimper,obviously lost in sensation as well. Unnaturally strong hands pulled him off of her all too soon. He turned around to see Daphne standing there, hands on his hips.
  "Take only what you need, you don't have to kill the person." With that, she leaned up and licked the blood off of his face in a rather sensual way. The hooker meanwhile sank to a sitting position, propped up by the wall. Daphne grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her to a standing position. She licked the bite wound close and shook the streetwalker roughly. The hooker's eyes snapped open and Daphne's gaze burned into hers for a moment before her own eyes glazed over.
  "What'd you do?" Dylan asked, hurrying to fall into step beside Daphne as she simply walked out of the alley and started toward the car.
  "Used a bit of mind control to make her forget what happened. It's a rather useful talent." She grinned at him. Dylan shook his head-he had a lot to get used to.
Well, loyal fans. That's my first attempt at a Vampire fic, please tell me what you think, ideas for improvement, praise, criticism, anything. I'll try to post Ch 2 soon.
   "What happened to me?" Dylan managed to ask. His voice was weak as was his body. The last thing he remembered was following the girl, Daphne by name back to her apartment from the restaurant. They'd started making out and she kissed down his neck and...then the pleasure had exploded through him, more intense than any sexual encounter he'd ever had. Dylan had realized that the more it went on, the weaker he'd become, but it was so powerful, that he hadn't even cared.
  "I made you into one of us, a vampire of the clan Brujah."
  "What?! Vampire, Daphne, you must have been smokin' something or something..I ain't no vampire, neither are you, vampires don't exist." Dylan stated matter of factly. He shook his head trying to ward off the growing thirst. It was making him edgy and he was actually starting to see red along the edges of his vision.
  "Here, drink." She put one pale arm to his lips and despite himself he felt his teeth sharpen and grow into fangs that pierced her wrist and he began to drink greedily. Immediately the rush went through him, just as powerful as before, the red fading. Daphne's head lolled back and she moaned.
  After only a few moments, she jerked her arm back from his mouth and licked the wound herself. Much to Dylan's surprise the puncture wound vanished as her tongue passed over it. He found he now had the strength to sit up, which he did. He was on her couch, in the living room of her apartment. Somehow she'd changed from her slinky black dress into a pair of hip hugging jeans and tight halter top that clung to her shapely frame and modest, firm breasts.
  Dylan himself was tall and strong with brown hair over blue eyes and chiseled features, dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans and nikes.
  "Oh my god...you're right...I am a vampire..." He ran his tongue over his teeth again, but they were no sharper than his canines usually were.Â
  "So am I. Dylan, how old do you think I am?" He gazed at her for a moment.
  "23 or 24?" He ventured.
  "307, not counting my mortal life." She informed him with a mischevous grin. "To be exact, I'm a Brujah Ancillae of the 7th generation, which would make you 8th generation."
  "Eighth generation? Ancillae?" Dylan wondered aloud.
  "Let me explain. Cain was the father of all vampires. He was cursed by God for killing his brother Abel to wander the earth for eternity and live off the blood of the living. Eventually he made others like him, which were considered the 2nd generation of vampires. They made more and their childer made more and so on and so forth, each generation becoming weaker as the curse of the blood was diluted. But you being only 8 times removed from Cain are still remarkably potent in today's world. There are some very weak vampires of generations as high as 14 and some say even 15. Their blood isn't even potent enough to sire a childe."
  "So what's a Brujah?" Dylan pressed, still a bit confused by all this talk of vampires and generations.
  "There are thirteen clans of vampires, all descended from one of the third generation vampires. We are the brujah. Once proud philosophers and warriors, now we're mostly just rebels and warriors." Daphne explained. "Enough talking, we need to get on with your lessons. The first lesson is Feeding. Follow me childe."
*Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â *Â Â
  Daphne took Dylan to the red light district in her pitch black Lamborghini and parked in a parking lot with cracked cement overgrown with weeds in front of a boarded up convenience store that had gone out of business years before. It was dark out, the moon hung above, a sickle amongst a field of twinkling lights.
  After they parked, Daphne led Dylan on a long walk through alleys and side streets until they came to the true ghetto of the city, a long stretch of old warehouses, drug houses, brothels and run down hotels that sometimes functioned as both.
  "These are the people that we supposedly claim kinship with. They're also dinner, don't ever forget that the only thing mortals are good for are food and occasionally as servants if you can find one trustworthy enough. Most will try and kill you if given the chance and the knowledge of what you are, so you must never let them know your true nature. By the power of our blood alone we're more than a match for them. With the stolen blood flowing through your veins, you can make yourself stronger, faster, and tougher, you can also heal your wounds. To say nothing of your vampiric disciplines, special powers that we Kindred can learn. But we have to sleep during the day because the kiss of the sun's rays is fatal to us. As is fire and the claws or teeth of the lupines."
  "What's a lupine?" Dylan asked, eyeing a streetwalker that walked past, hips swaying sensuously.
  "A werewolf. They exist too, there's a lot of things that exist in the supernatural, we're just one of them. Now, do you feel that hunger, in you, that anger that's like a dog jerking at a chain trying to bubble over?"
  "Yeah..." Dylan said, eyes still on the streetwalker as she stood under a streetlight, making eyes at him. He wasn't looking at her body though, suddenly the pulsing arteries in her neck seemed to call to him, the hunger rising inside and making his vision red. A hard slap dispeled the red temporarily and he turned to Daphne in annoyance.
  "What the hell did you do that for?" Dylan asked angrily.Â
  "Because you weren't paying attention. Now listen up. Like I was saying, that anger in you is what we call the beast, it's the result of Cain's sin, the curse part of the curse if you will. If you're not careful all of the time with it, it can slip it's bonds off and take over, driving you into a frenzy in which you will try to kill everything around you, or you will run away, killing anything or anyone in your way. Either way, someone'll probably die. The only real way to keep it in check is to try and obey your moral code. Try to keep your humanity alive. It's what I follow, the Road of Humanity. If you do that, you can hold off the beast-"
  "Heya handsome...looking for a good time?" A silky voice interrupted. Dylan looked up to see the hooker suddenly standing right there in front of the two of them.
  "Go ahead Dylan, you know you want to..." Daphne said with a grin that showed off her fangs.
  "Sure, in here..." Dylan said, taking the hooker's wrist and leading her into the shadows of the alley. Before she could protest, he was on her, kissing her neck, searching for the right spot.
  "Hold on there Romeo," She said, putting her palms flat against his chest and trying to push him back. "I need to see some green fir-OOH!" She exclaimed as he sank his fangs in, lost in the ecstasy of the moan. She began to moan and whimper,obviously lost in sensation as well. Unnaturally strong hands pulled him off of her all too soon. He turned around to see Daphne standing there, hands on his hips.
  "Take only what you need, you don't have to kill the person." With that, she leaned up and licked the blood off of his face in a rather sensual way. The hooker meanwhile sank to a sitting position, propped up by the wall. Daphne grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her to a standing position. She licked the bite wound close and shook the streetwalker roughly. The hooker's eyes snapped open and Daphne's gaze burned into hers for a moment before her own eyes glazed over.
  "What'd you do?" Dylan asked, hurrying to fall into step beside Daphne as she simply walked out of the alley and started toward the car.
  "Used a bit of mind control to make her forget what happened. It's a rather useful talent." She grinned at him. Dylan shook his head-he had a lot to get used to.
Well, loyal fans. That's my first attempt at a Vampire fic, please tell me what you think, ideas for improvement, praise, criticism, anything. I'll try to post Ch 2 soon.