Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight and its characters, but my OC is mine.

Okay, so I'm going to give you a little need-to-know thing here, some background information that might help my lovely readers understand this 3-part story a little better.

Elsa, Maeva and William are all OC's of mine. They grew up in France around the 1300's - 1400's, and it was William (the eldest sibling) who was first turned into a vampire. In his newborn lust for blood, he killed most of his family but managed to restrain himself from killing his twin sisters, Elsa and Maeva, and instead turning them alongside him. They viewed this as his ultimate betrayal, and the twins and William went seperate ways. More recently (the last few hundred years) the twins gained enough experience in combat to begin hunting for William, deciding that it was time to kill him since he had become a monster and murderer in his new life.

All three siblings speak with a slight accent, but I chose not to write their parts with the accent because of its lightness. There is also inconsistency with the phrasing of things (eg. do not and don't) and this is because the characters are still trying to adapt to the shortened speech style of the modern era. They also all bear a similar appearance, with dark black hair. William's is short and wavy, Maeva's short and straight, with Elsa's being straight and long. One of the major differences between the twins is that Elsa has a longer/larger nose.

This first part is PRE-TWILIGHT.


À Partir De La Mémoire (From Memory)

Partie 1


For some reason, she couldn't recall ever seeing blood so red before.

The vibrancy her eyes perceived seemed surreal; a new shade to cover the world and stain it crimson. Certainly that was what it must do. It already covered her hands, her clothing, and the body beneath her.

A wretched, pitiful snarl was thrown into the night, reverberating off the forest trees.

"Look what you have brought upon us!" growled a male voice.

Elsa could not look up, and she had no need to. She had memorized his appearance already, knew it as well as her own. They were so similar, with black hair, red eyes, and with the classic features of most elder vampires.

"Our family is dying, Elsa, because you will not accept our true nature."

Elsa shook her head, hands trying to staunch the bleeding wound of the woman beneath her. "It is your nature alone, William."

He laughed, and laughed with madness. "You are my sister – my family – and we are the same. We carry the same blood!"

Abstaining from the indulgence of panic, Elsa instead stated, "And you have spilt it-"

"A mistake." William assured, sorrow enveloping his voice once more.

"-you have caused Maeva great injury tonight. How many more of us must die before you understand?" she continued unheedingly.

Being as stubborn as she was, Elsa was sure not listen to her brother. He had had more second chances than she could count. That ended now. The blood that the three siblings had left through history would stop. William must cease his apathetic, needless murders, and if he could not do it himself, then – as they had decided many years ago – Elsa and Maeva would.

"You have killed our parents, our aunts and uncles and cousins." Elsa began. "And now it seems you want to see even us dead."

Once more, William laughed. He couldn't stop; the situation delighted him greatly. "Do you not want to see me dead?"

"I want to see you saved." She argued.

"Ah, of course. You still believe we can be good." William sighed, almost wistful.

Elsa began to move at last, cradling her sister, Maeva, against her. Blood of the most crimson colour bled relentlessly, and though no death could come for someone already dead, Elsa still felt fear.

"We have both killed, Sister," her brother said, "it is our nature. We are vampires, and we must embrace it."

Elsa smiled sadly this time, still refusing to look up. "You have such an archaic definition of 'vampire', Will. We are also people, nous avons la vie, and we are allowed humanity."

William scoffed at the notion, at her words and the old nickname. He hated being told what to do, how to act, and Elsa was always the one to do just that. This was also worsened by the fact that he was the oldest, whilst Elsa and Maeva shared the title of youngest. He knew better, he thought, he was older, and they should have been listening to him.

"We are not human." He insisted.

"We were." Elsa replied, and it was such a rehearsed answer that she had to second-guess herself. Perhaps that was the wrong answer to convince him. "But perhaps you no longer walk that path."

William was surely grinning, stretching his pale skin wide. "Neither do you."

They both knew they had reached breaking point. For as patient as Elsa was, her patience could last only so long. Now, centuries later, she was through.

Looking up at last, meeting red eyes that burned with the same intensity as Maeva's blood, Elsa decided something quite simple.

"I am not the one who has killed without need. For heaven's sake William, he was five! And you tore him apart!" Elsa began to rise to her feet, bringing the unconscious Maeva with her. "You," she declared, "are no brother of mine."

William, whose eyes were caught beneath his sister's stare, did not move. He did not flinch, he did not breathe and he did not blink. Her words were incomprehensible to him. William could not begin to fathom her hatred of him, nor her relinquished claim over him. He was her brother and creator, and so to expect anything but love from his sisters both was incomprehensible. It was not something he thought could happen.

"You are my sister. You and Maeva. We are together in this." He muttered.

Elsa offered only a mere pretence of a smile. "No." she replied, and turned away.

As she – and Maeva consequently – began to depart from the scene, William said nothing more.

As a young boy, he had been talkative, energetic, and daring. All three of those things had been lost to him, and with it, himself.

Elsa had known this, just as Maeva did, and it was time to accept it.

A flash of speed, for a flash was all Elsa could manage, propelled them further from William and his harm. It left them deeper in the forest, with nothing but trees and snow for company.

There was no need to speak, for the absence of another conscious presence and because she never needed to use words with Maeva. The two had a unique understanding of each other that most twins lacked, and could always sense the emotions of the other.

It was both an advantage, and an annoyance.

Currently, all she could feel was a jumbled mix of emotions and thoughts, creating the haze with which Maeva lacked the strength to fight off.

The coat Elsa wore grew heavier and began to reek of blood after not long. If William wanted to, he could very easily track them down and kill them. But if Elsa knew her brother, and she had at some point in time, she was aware that he had a flair for drama and a love of challenges. A simple, quick kill where he was at an advantage would only prove dissatisfying for him.

"You look terrible." remarked a sudden, unexpected voice.

Elsa cursed herself for not noticing sooner. She had been too distracted, too wound up in her thoughts, to notice it. But it was obvious – the scent that permeated the air. And it was not William, but another man she feared far more.

"Alistair." Elsa greeted curtly.

The century of time that had passed left him unchanged, and he remained tall, blonde and strikingly familiar as he stood between the arch of two bare-branched trees.

"Was it your brother that did that?" he asked, appearing to be only mildly interested in Maeva's condition.

Elsa looked from her sister, and back to her old acquaintance. "Yes."

"Do you want help?" Alistair asked.

"Did I ask for help?" Elsa retorted.

He shrugged, allowing his eyes to wander from her. The very existence of his offer to help her pertained to his tolerance of her. Though their meetings were brief and few, Alistair learnt her story quickly, and felt a kindred spirit within her. She had a certain understand most lacked.

But all that was not enough for him to insist upon company. Alistair hated companionship above all things, and so it was sensible of him to accept what he wanted when offered to him.

Not wishing to remain when remaining was inane, Alistair was preparing to walk away when Elsa spoke again.

He had not expected her to, nor expected her to say, "Please."

Her longing for safety had overwhelmed her more swiftly than either had anticipated, sorely disappointing them both.

"I wouldn't mind it if you helped." Elsa added.

Alistair glanced backwards, resisting a smile. "Follow me." He ordered.


I'm not sure about this ff, mainly because of Twilight. I have this weird thing with Twilight were I don't like the main characters (sorry guys!) and I think some of the background characters make far more dynamic, realistic characters. I also cannot stand the books, but that is just because I don't like how Stephenie Meyer writes.

Please review.