Author: Amarra

Mail: LadyAmarra()web.de

Rating: R (former Pg-13)

Warnings: Dark fic, language, Blood and Vampirism. As well as multipe
Character death (mainly Ocs but also main Characters)

Notes: It is a story I truly love, the plot bunny of Will as a vampire
hunted me since the better part of the last month, and so I wrote it
down, it is different from the most other stories till now, because I did
not really read much POTC fiction with vampires yet and I read a lot Fanfiction.
By the way english is not my first language and sometimes I and my beta
miss to correct my mistakes completely so don't sue me...

Thanks to my brother Anubis at this point who always tells me how nuts I am whilst writing this stuff...

Disclimer: No money made, no laws meant to be broken, no need to sue me,
really! The song lyrics aren't meant to be used to hurt any copyright, they
just flow with the story, there is also no money made and there is really no
need to sue me. Just a work of imagination, nothing more. Why is it necessary
at all to write such a long thing just because I used some lyrics, it's not as if I
sell them to others? So final statement; I do not intend to hurt a law here, it's
merely a matter of imagination.

Summary: Will encounters a woman who offers him freedom... he could not know that he would
end as Vampire fighting against himself and the world around him.

Edit: I corrected a couple of things in grammar and style…

Chapter one

It was the evening of the 19. December 1889 and the sun was setting over the city of London, leading
it, with each passing day, closer to a new century. Colouring the dark and filthy streets, smoky factories
and parks into a strange mix between a dark bloody red and the warm colour of rum. The so called
unlucky women, or whores, went out on their streets, searching for men who offered a few pennies
for the oldest kind of service men knew, as well as the creatures of the darkness, who went out into
the night to find their luck or nourishment.

One of this creatures was silently walking along a half dark lane, along the high and noble houses of
the richer people. This kind of innocent unknowing men and women, who only knew their fine
surroundings, denying the existence of whores, killers or all the demons and shadows to themselves.
Those undead beings, older as this dull humans could ever think of. Their mortal lives spread over not
more than 80 years and even If it sounded like much for them, it was almost nothing for those like him.

His cloths neither were filthy nor old or cheap, the dark hair not as long as he used to wear them in the
last years, his skin had a healthy colour and his face looked still as young as it was on the day he had
turned, still with a fine beard around his chin and nose. The only thing that betrayed the
look of a young noble man were the brown eyes, which showed the real age or his soul, If someone
looked hard enough.

His nourishment never bothered to look or care close enough to see anything. Only money counted
for them and he had truly enough money to count himself to one of this innocent and unknowing, but,
opposite to the humans he could not close his eyes and forget the old ones like himself. Or his past,
and just that was hunting him this night like all the others in the past 240 years. Perhaps a few more
or less, since all this started but enough to make him see the insanity in the patterns of human lives
like in the one he once had lived as well. Birth, youth, giving birth, growing old and death… a never
ending circle for those poor beings. Something that never had changed.

He reached a small little church on the side of a nice little park, a choir was seemingly rehearsing for
the following Sunday and people still entered and left the church. For some odd reason churches
always fascinated him since he was turned, perhaps because the rules for those so called sacred
places, were the only really binding ones for those like him. It was the only really safe place for his
victims, even If he had stopped calling his food like that, since the day Valeria died many years ago.

He did not know what was driving him, but he went up the few stone steps to the door and stepped
through the open doors, greeting the couples that left the halls with a small nod. Those prim little
women in their painfully tight corsages, Elizabeth always used to complain about so colourful.

The memory made him wince in something like heartache, in moments like this, his past came back to
hunt him and make him suffer for what he did. It always came back hunting him, always, even after so
many years. He sat down in one of the benches and started to listen more carefully to the choir,
perhaps he liked the churches also because of the fact that the music in here, never had changed in
all the years, opposite to the rest of the world.

"Those like you don't find shelter in this walls..." A voice from behind him warned.

He turned to find the Priest standing behind him, looking down at the younger looking man in the
bench with icy blue eyes. "I don't say it again... you wont wait here for your prey tonight..."

He turned back to the choir in the front of the church. "I am not waiting for a prey..."

The Priest watched the younger looking man for a moment and went to sit down in the bench behind
him with something like a smile on the old face. "I see..."

"What..." He asked after a few seconds, not bothering to look back to the priest.

"Oh it is simple... Vampires are damned to battle with the remains of their souls... some don't bother to
think about it and simply swallow it.. others... like you... search for forgiveness..." The Priest explained
with the shadow of a laugh in his voice.

The Vampire cursed silently about the fact, that sacred ground was protecting all living on it from the
touch of a Immortal. He cursed the cross and everything what made this places so damn sacred,
along with all the rules the church had made up against creatures like him.

"I would stop laughing, priest..." The Vampire warned, annoyance in his voice.

"You can not hurt me here... you are for sure old enough to know that..." The priest simply said and
leaned forward. "How old are you? 100, 200 years? A bit more or less?"

Again he did not answer to the Priest. It was starting to annoy him awfully, but still, it was interesting,
to use the words of a old friend, that the old man seemed to know Vampires so well.

"Not that I would really care, but there are not many of your kind who are older than that and visit churches
... they care less with every passing century. Even forget their first names..." The Priest sight and made up
to leave the bench again. "I respect that you don't want to talk poor soul.. but I keep an eye on you.. don't dare to follow
any live out of this walls..."

"William..." The Vampire said.

"What?" The Priest turned back to the man.

"My name was William Turner...once..." The young man turned to face the priest who had taken his
seat on the bench behind the vampire again.

"Patrick Davidson..." The Priest half smiled in surprise about the strange vampire.

"Sounds Scandinavian in some way..." Will leaned back, carefully avoiding the touch with the priest.

"I am born in Oslo... yes.." The Priest nodded.

"I was born in England... and set over to the Spanish main after my mother died...but you, for sure
don't want to hear all that..." Will snorted to himself, battling with the pain of the past once more.

"Oh I have time... and love stories..." The Priest leaned back in his bench and laid his hands in his lap.
"Simply tell a story Mister Turner, a story form the Spanish main..."

The Vampire took a deep breath and looked down, where should he start with his tale.