I have always known that I was a monster, born of death, sired by a dark creature. I watched many others grow up with loving mothers. I killed mine. I watched others learn from patient fathers. Mine was a monster. I watched others grow learn and mature over the course of many years. I was fully grown by the time I had reached six years. I was walking at e mere number of months and talking as quickly. Reading came to me as easily as breathing.

Wherever I traveled I watched the helpless humans flock to me. My beauty was unnatural. A gift given by my father. My skin seemed almost to glow when I went in the sun. So in an attempt to avoid the unearned adoration of the men I wandered avoiding human contact altogether. Though as I ate and was not satisfied I came to realize I could not stay entirely away from humans. Their blood sustained me. I tried not to kill, though I slipped once or twice. I tried to only take enough to survive. Sipping a little from each human. I never really fit in with either side though I spent time watching each. I never associated with the vampires though I observed many. I came to realize that in my talent I was not alone. Some vampires seemed to bring a special quality into their eternal existence with them. Some seemed able to read minds and some shield others or themselves. I even witnessed one who could levitate. I saw my father and talked to my mother's people. In learning about this I realized that I brought a piece of the into my life. My father had the ability to change people view of him. Either he popped and people noticed him or he made himself ordinary, invisible in plain sight. My mother had charisma, people listened when she spoke and paid attention. She was able to make people dance to her tune.

Until I was 56 I did not break my aversion to humans. I was sitting in a small inn; I was born in the year 934, and scooping for a human to supply a meal when I noticed him. Electricity struck me when he walked by. And I felt something I was not used to feeling. I wanted him. Not his blood but the sound of his voice and the sweet music of his heart beating an intoxicating rhythm. Our eyes met and my world fell to pieces only to rebuild with him as my center. We seemed to float together and never drifted apart. He and I moved to a small house miles outside of any village. Whenever we needed something I would run for it. It only took my a few minutes to travel the twelve miles. We lived in seclusion happy in our lives. I told him my secrets and he accepted me. My electricity turned t love and he became my world. Nature took control a year later and I had a small boy.

I was overjoyed in his perfection. He was stronger and faster than most boys but not as I was. He appeared to be mostly human. Still his skin appeared luminescent and he had the same thirst. I carried him on my back to the towns. I taught him of the cold ones and his ancestors on both sides of the family. As the years progressed I was excited that he aged mostly humanlike. He was my angel and he showed me that I was not a complete monster for how could an angel like him come from a complete monster.

He moved away for love. When he described the feeling it was the same lightning. My love and I stayed in the little house. Our grandchild was born. She was a beauty and to my joy she appeared even more human. As she grew I ignored the passing years until they pushed themselves to the front. My husband grew up even more every time I turned. Soon he spent all his days in bed. I would lay pressed against him the heat of my body aiding his. We talked for months about life. Our grandchild our love and life together. Our beautiful son and his adorable wife. He left me as summer set in. I carefully arranged him on the bed and wrapped him warmly. I laid a bouquet of white roses on his chest and took one last look at the cottage with homemade items put together so carefully. I memorized every detail and kissed my loves faces one last time. As I left I lit a fire on the pile of cloth laid in the middle of the floor and covered in oil. I stayed around and made sure the fire didn't catch on anything. For two days I watched the blaze eat away at my life. When it had cool I walked in the ashes spreading seeds amid the black dust. When I reached the spot were the bed laid I scooped up a small vial of ash and hooked it to the chain around my neck. Sparkling tears leaked down. I stayed in the nearby woods for a few years. My son, then an older man with heavy laugh line showing around his face, came to the woods one spring a small bundle in his arms. He walked strangely. He found my roses growing in a slightly charred circle. Despair crossed his features.

He called my name tears on his cheeks. I smelled blood. Silently I appeared before him.

"Mother." I took him into my arms. "They're gone mother, every last one of them."

"Who love?"

"My daughter and both my sons this is my only living family. My granddaughter. Isabelle." He pushed her towards me and I took him in time to see him fall. And I burned my son in the middle of the rose patch sending his body to the sky. I took my sweet girl and ran. She relied purely on the food of humans.