First thing's first, shameless advertising: My tumblr, lots of Cherry, go look and cherish. Second, my collaboration channel with SlinkyT, there's a (mostly Cherry) story being posted on there with you should check out, please, and bring in feedback. Both can be found on my profile, if you're interested.

Onto to more important things: This story is being developed from one of the one-shots in my Cherry drabble collection, "ABC, as easy as 123." So if this first chapter seems familiar, that is why. But, because of berrywarbler, I started thinking of turning this into a full-length piece of fiction (even though she suggested it for the zombie apocalypse and I decided to take on the vampire universe instead). It's taken me a while, but I've finally written something up. I'm not entirely sure what full-length means to me yet, though. But, due to her giving me the idea, and because she has faithfully commented and been there for most (if not all) of my Cherry (and recently Shumchele) writing adventures, I think it's about time I dedicate something to her.

So, Ashley, thank you. Gosh, I hope that's your name or this will be awkward. And I hope that the rest of the story (because you've already read this first chapter) is to your satisfaction. Thank you for being one of the best readers and supporters a writer could ever ask for. It means a lot to me, it really does. I less than three you. :)

On with the show.

He held her shivering form tightly in his arms, his lips pressed to her head as he tried his hardest to calm her. He ignored the pain her nails digging into his arms caused him, knowing that she needed to inflict pain upon him to numb some of his own. His whispers of encouragement and soft lullabies were overshadowed by her excessive groans and hisses of agony, but that didn't stop him from telling her that the worst would be over soon enough.

He remembered when this had happened to him, in cold night in November. He had been left alone in a barn, he recalls, yelling out for a force unknown to stop the burn in his throat and the swelling of his gums. Everything was colored black and white, and his heart pumped against his strengthening rib cage at an unbearable rate. His veins felt as though they were being pricked by tens of thousands of needles and pins, all of them cutting through into his skin repeatedly.

He remembers the last few minutes before he blacked out, how he simply gave into the excruciating aches and imaginary stabs of unseen sharp objects piercing into his skin. How everything blurred before taking the shapes and sizes of his worst nightmares and jumping at him as he let out his final scream that night.

He promised himself he wouldn't let that happen to her. He wouldn't have her suffer as much as he had. If he had a choice, he wouldn't have had this girl suffer at all, for she didn't deserve the life his master had served her. But there was nothing he could do to reverse the recycle, only protect her from the many struggles and dangers that awaited her.

He would be her light in the dark, the light he wishes he had had all those years ago. And should his - should their - master wish to dispose of him at some point, he would be sure to drag the girl in his arms with him into their second death. He knew from experience that death would be better than having to live under the command of his master alone. He had lived through the torture alone for one too many decades; he wouldn't let the same happen to her.

Allowing her to go through this with him didn't make him any better of a person, in his mind, but there really wasn't any way to get something positive from this life. He would mull over his chooses for a few nights and forget about his mistakes and all the blood on his hands one morning, repeating the cycle on a clean slate free of guilt and regret that would eventually pile up again. It was a vicious cycle, but he had years to perfect his act.

He'd teach her the cycle too. He'd teach her to be the same soulless and disgusting blood-razed monster he was. There was, after all, no other way for their kind if they wished to survive in this second life.

When she stops moving in his arms, he peers up at their master before planting delicate kisses up the drying path of blood that had stopped running down her neck. She seemed to sink into his embrace now, instead of fighting it off. He realized she was finally in the stage of acceptance, and it was a triumph considering it had taken him ages to get to where she was. He wondered how long it would take her to trust him. Just him, the only known 'saint' among a breed of merciless sinners.

"We'll feed at dusk."

He could only nod at the words as he watched his master, his maker, his murderer, step out of the cabin, noting her blonde hair and pale skin being kissed by the sun just before she slams the door shut. It was only then when he realized that light streams of daylight were coming in through the windows surrounding them. He wished that, for a moment, that part of the myths were true and that his skin would be devoured by the sun's rays. If only it was so easy to escape this life.

"She seems nice," the girl in his arms husks out, as if almost humored by the older woman's behavior. He smiles at this for a moment, for what reasons he isn't entirely sure. He chooses not to respond, though, for he fears he wouldn't know how. Conversation over something other than the latest kill had slowly become lost to him over the years.

And a few seconds later, out of absolutely no where, she sings out a string of 'La's'. Her voice sounds strained but somehow, there's still life in the sound of it all, like she managed to tangle her voice up with a little bit of hope. She stops after the tenth la, clearing her throat and closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. It's relief, he realizes. He remembers feeling that way when he was finally able to get back onto his feet and dance without his every limb silently threatening to tear itself off from his body. He doesn't remember feeling relief since then. He thinks that maybe that might change at some point, with her around.

When her breathing seems to even out and her body grows a little heavier, he realizes he isn't going to be her light or savior in all of the darkness and bloodshed that is to come.

She's going to be his.

The extra author's note: I want you to know in advance that the characters might seem terribly out of character, but they're going through things and their character are bound to change in some form, but I will try my absolute hardest to keep as close to the actual characters' personalities as possible, so that it is realistic yet enjoyable.