This story has a flashback of ocean of blood, if you haven't read it and don't like spoilers then I don't recommend this. I didn't want to put it as a cross over, before anyone comments about that. ;)

This is set when Sam gets killed by the Wolfman

Crunch, the wolfman's neck was broken and he was on the floor. Larten looked at his assistant, Darren who was kneeled down on the floor near his dying friend, Sam.

Darren was crying when Larten came over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The boy's stomach was ripped in parts and his body parts were streaming out like his blood.

"Can you save him?" Darren pleaded.

"No."

"Then, give him your blood, change him! You said doing that could save someone's life!"

"Not in this case. I came as soon as I could Darren."

Larten thought he heard Darren mumble something about it not being soon enough, but instead of slapping him round the head for being so rude, he let it slip.

Then the older vampire remembered something,

"Darren listen to me, you must drink his blood."

It didn't sink into Darren very quickly, what his mentor had asked him to do.

"What? Are you crazy? He has just died! I can't drink his blood! I won't."

"Do you not remember what I told you, you can absorb his soul. Part of him could live on through you."

"I remember."

*FLASHBACK*

Biting, howling, feeding and killing. Larten did all these things on that boat. He tore throats from nearly everyone on board, enjoying the sickly cracks of bones and the thickness of the blood that was pouring into his mouth. He killed all that he bit on that ship, not thinking about the fact that he might be vampaneze after this.

He sat on the side of the boat, looking into the water, until he somehow saw the reflection of a woman in the sea from the moonlight. She was eerily beautiful, hanging like an angel. He turned around to see this angel, all he saw was a victim of murder, and love.

Malora.

He undid the knots around her throat and gently carried her down, looking at nothing but her face as he did. He could see slices and cuts in her skin, where the sailors had cut her. He could see that he had tried to fight back, but failed. He reached out a hand to caress her once smooth, flawless soon to be scarred cheek. He sat near the end of the boat with her in his arms, wondering what their life could have been if he had admitted to loving her back. If he not gotten the flu. What would have happened?

Then he remembered something, something his Master had told him many years before.

If he drank the blood on someone dying or someone that not been dead for very long, part of their soul would stay with you forever. Larten didn't know how he would feel about feeding off the dead Malora, yet he had fed from worse.

He tenderly reached down and took her wrist, slit it with his sharp fingernail and brought it to his mouth. He drank slowly, her blood somehow tasting different to every else's on board. He now knew why, she was good, she wasn't evil.

He could feel her warmness spread throughout him, making him feel at home.

As he drank, he cried. Tears and drops of blood mixed as they splattered down onto the floor.

He laid her on the ground when he was finished, and closed his eyes, as hers were already closed.

He could see faint images of her in his mind, faint as they might have been he still manages to see them as clear as day.

He fell asleep, swearing he could hear her singing soft lullaby's in his ear.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

Darren was drinking blood now, and enjoying it as much as he could. Larten could hear the young boy sobbing as he did so, he knew how it felt. Exactly how it felt.

He would tell Darren one day, about what he had done. Maybe about the whole ship. But somehow he felt he would forget.

Please comment. ;)