Disclaimer: Twilight series and characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Sunset of an Empire

Prologue

The night sky was aglow with the flames that danced so menacingly on the once-magnificent castle. Howls of fury and shrieks of hopelessness leaked through the walls and reached the ears of the two sole survivors of the attack on their precious castle, who were fleeing from the madness through the forest nearby. As furious as they were, the two pale men could not turn back for a moment, not even for a brief glance, or they would suffer the same fate as their coven. In any case, they didn't wish to stop. The sound of their familiar comrades inside the castle, screaming as though the crowns of glory rooted into their skulls were being torn from their very heads, were echoing. They were echoing in the minds of the survivors, and as the echoes grew softer, the horror grew ever louder. They had to keep running. They could not sit on their thrones anymore, so they had to keep running.

Chapter 1

It all had turned out to be a complete and utter disappointment.

Vladimir's pale hands were clenched so tight on the steering wheel of the car, they might have easily snapped the wheel right off. He drove at who-knew-how-many miles per hour, driving as fast as the old, nearly useless vehicle would allow him to go. His pale blond hair hung in his black and restless eyes. The dark-haired man who sat in the passenger seat, equally pale, and equally frustrated as Vladimir, clutched the ancient leather seat he was sitting on, gripping equally tight as Vladimir. Stefan's eyes were as black as Vladimir's, and both men had deep circles under their eyes. It had been difficult to find time to hunt during their trip. They were not thinking about their thirst during their visit to Forks, Washington. They had been distracted by the idea that they, the last Romanian vampires, could finally have a chance of getting their revenge on the Volturi. However, the thirst was pointless in the end. Vladimir and Stefan, driving home in the nighttime darkness, found that their thirst was not quenched with victory, but heightened with bitter defeat.

They kept their eyes focused straight ahead at the road, moving by so quickly that, to the human eye, it would have been nothing but a grey blur. But to the eyes of the vampires sitting in the old car, it was clearer than daylight.

It was a strange thing to Stefan and Vladimir, motion. They could travel by foot as easily as any other vampire, though the two Romanians found it more settling to sit and travel by car, train, anything. They were accustomed to sitting high upon a throne, and having to travel by foot was something they believed the conquerors of their castle, those wretched Volturi, so long ago had forced upon them as their thrones were swept out beneath their feet. It was true that, even with fifteen hundred years' time, some habits refused to die...

"Vladimir," Stefan grudgingly broke the silence with his whispery, hissing voice.

"Stefan?" Vladimir's equally whispery and hissing voice answered with a surprisingly patient tone, but his eyes were still glaring at the road ahead.

"You've missed the turn."

Vladimir then realized with extreme irritation that his mind had been so deep in thought that he had been paying little attention to the road he had been watching so intensely.

And only a brief moment after those words were spoken- CRACK- in Vladimir's fury, the steering wheel was finally crushed in his stone grip. He abruptly stomped his foot on the brake, causing a car to collide with immense force into the back of the vampires' old car. The rear of the old car was completely crushed, the back window shattered. The tiny shards of glass were strewn everywhere, as if a rain cloud of crystals had quickly passed by. As for the car that crashed into it, the vampires could not care less what kind of damage had been done. And they weren't the least bit interested in the damage that was done to their own car either.

Having bodies that were ideal for immortality was just one of the advantages the two Romanian vampires felt grateful to have. Unharmed, Stefan and Vladimir stepped out of their car. Now they could smell the pungent odor of the victim's blood that drifted through the broken windshield and blended with the cold air outside.

"Oh my, Vladimir. Look at this terrible mess you've made," Stefan said, smirking.

This road was not particularly busy today, considering that they were driving through a wooded area in the quiet mountains of Washington at night, but the few people that did drive by the two demolished vehicles were stopping. One driver in the opposite lane hit the brakes in a hurry once the driver spotted the wreck, but was hesitant at first to get out of the car to offer assistance. The driver- whoever he or she was; Vladimir and Stefan did not care- must have assumed that the two pale men, barely visible in the darkness, approaching the other car were taking care of the situation.

A grin flashed across Vladimir's face as he reached through the broken windshield. "I like to call this a reckless method of hunting, Stefan," he replied to his companion with sudden delight as he grabbed the solitary victim of the collision, who was a scrawny gentleman with short, untidy brown hair of perhaps thirty years of age. The man wore a grey sweatshirt, now heavily stained with blood. Stefan and Vladimir knew that the man was not dead; only unconscious. They could hear the human's heart, and their thirst grew stronger with each beat. Vladimir easily lifted him out of the driver's seat, through the shattered windshield, and onto Vladimir's slender shoulder. The smell of the sweet blood that trickled from the man's forehead made the vampires' noses wrinkle and their throats burn.

The two mysterious figures in black clothing were attracting unwanted spectators as more and more cars stopped in the road.

"We need to eat," Vladimir whispered, carrying the human on his back.

"So let's eat," Stefan whispered back.

And without another word, they disappeared into the forest with their prey.