A/N: Gbrown and I decided to colab together, because I had no clue what to write about. so if you go over to my account- as of now its empty. Together we decided to make a twligight fanfic- like she has on her account. I brought up the "children of the moon" which the series touches on, but never goes into detail. We both decided that it would be really fun to create these characters. I write for Echo, and she writes for Morana/Morrie. This way they each get there own distinguished voice. I hope you enjoy the story. :)

Echo

I am not a killer. At least- that's what I tell myself. But its really hard to deny it staring at your parents bodies, mauled to death by that—that thing inside of you. I'm not a killer, but part of me is. Part of me likes it. It's not my fault, really I swear. I'm sick—that's all. I didn't go out looking for this, this was never my intention, but that doesn't matter does it? Not in the end, never, because when there is a monster out there, you can't run away- not when it's inside of you. But we tried to anyway. My sister and I skimmed along the Canadian border, running from something I couldn't escape. Me. she'd done the best she could- but even that wasn't good enough.

Nothing was ever enough. Morana had gotten me to try everything possible, even after I'd quit trying to cure it. Mora- well, she was the opposite of me. She's always been good. Loving. Light. I've never been good with emotions. Dark. Cold. And I've always been secretly afraid that I was bad. No matter what I tell Morana. It was my worst fear- I guess. We even looked different. Morana was tan with platinum blonde hair. I was pale skinned with the most contrasting color hair- black. Other then that- we were identical. After all- we were twins.

Morrie was hope. I was despair. She was light. I had always been dark- even before the bite. She always told me that didn't mean I was bad at the core- just a different kind of good, but that was just Morrie, always seeing the good in me, even after I tore mom and dad to ribbons. Maybe she was right- maybe it didn't mean I was bad, but it defiantly meant I had to fight harder to stay good. Now that I was… this way- I had to fight even harder.

When this had first started- I killed her dog. She just stared at him and eyed his body, but she forgave me in an instant when she found my sobbing in a corner, trying to wipe the blood off my face. I had no idea what was wrong with me back then. None of us had.

When I'd… been attacked- well- I don't really remember. Just bits and pieces. Flashes. Pain- hot, fast, rolling agony. I don't remember screaming, but I do remember Morrie crying. And just how hollow I felt when I told her I wasn't going to die, even though the thing had practically torn out my thought and ripped out my insides. My vision had kept jerking, and I'm sure my eyes had too- hell maybe even my entire body. I don't really know. It was enough to scare Morrie- but then again, she hated blood anyway. So seeing her sister sliced opened on the ground probably wasn't the best for her. She still had nightmares about finding my body. Well- I suppose that makes two of us. I still had nightmares about the attack, even though I have no clear memory of it. Just that it was big with even bigger teeth. The eyes though, bloody hell those god dammed eyes. Dirty gold, dull yet piercing.

The process took about a month- slowly but surely. At first it had been little things, zoning out, dreaming of running. And then… there's just this undeniable, hot, rolling hunger that burns you up. No- it's more like… well, it feels good at first. Deep in your thought, right where your neck meets your chest. It's this warm, dark, thick feeling. Like blood, but good. Then the craving turns in to full desperation. Like you need to kill or you will die. The ugly thing about it? It feels beautiful and right. Like you were meant to kill. Like you were in nirvana. It's a rich, warm, powerful, yet relaxing feeling, like freedom. Extasy. Then you realize what you've done and you want to die so badly it hurts.

By the next full moon I was a full-fledged monster. And I'm sure you know what I'm getting at. A wolf. A monster. A "child of the moon."

Morana and I had been traveling up the Canadian border looking for others like me and for the cure. She had tried everything- piercing my ear with a silver earring - I ended up coughing up blood and too sick to move. Wolvesbane? Similar effect. The worst part? I knew there was no cure. It only dies if you do.

But we've managed.

I am not a killer. I'm not…but the beast is. And no matter how hard I try - it never dies.

It cannot be controlled; I can't control myself.

There is no cure; I'm cursed.

But now- I could tune that all out. When we'd first run- I'd found this lovely car left for dead. So, I now considered this thing to be my baby. It was a beautiful, dark green, rugged jeep and totally sexy in my opinion. Since we had turned eighteen a few months before… the event, no one would look for us. But that didn't matter- they all thought we were dead.

With our parents… gone, and with all the blood at the scene we were assumed dead. I'd made sure of that, but faking our deaths so we could disappear hadn't been my original motive. I'd tried to cut the monster- out which sounds stupid now, but at the time seemed genius. You would do the same thing if you had done what I had. I shook my head, sharply to toss out the thoughts. I didn't want to go back there. Not now. Not ever. Clenching my hands on the soft leather of the steering wheel I turned the music on to full blast, jarring Morrie from her peaceful slumber. Ehh- she'd gotten enough sleep.