I know this isn't the official story behind Godric's turning(as told by True Blood), but I literally thought about this this morning and just couldn't resist.

Enjoy.

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The day had been calm. The very essence of life billowing through the gentle breeze. The sun's furious glare tentatively beating down across the land. Once again, the people went about their routines in this thing we called life. They worked the fields, sent out for the kill, watched our borders, watched over their families, played with their children.

But luck was not in our future it seemed.

They came just before twilight. Without warning, without even the slightest noise or shadow ahead.

Fires broke out. The sheathing and dangerous thunder of sword upon sword danced all around. The people rushed from their homes. Some out of rage, but most out of fright. The screams had started instantly and gone without falter.

I'd been one of the first to catch sight of those monsters, in charge of patrol with Gawain, my elder brother, and five others. We ran for home as fast as our feet would carry us, we all did, hoping we might get the chance to warn the village. Crashing through the door, our mother turned to us in shock and anger, we'd startled our baby sister, Enid, but that didn't matter. We had to get out. We had to run.

Father burst into our home then. He spoke none, for the look in his haunted eyes said it all. Mother grabbed Enid while I ran further into our home for the younger ones, Cayden and Drystan. We were to late. We barely made it out the back way, running for the cover of trees, before the first fires were lit. We were almost there when I was shoved forward onto the dirt. I acted quickly, spinning to my back and kicking the attacker in the stomach just as he was to bring his sword down. He fell off me and was promptly tackled by father as Gawain came to my aid.

We stood, pumped with adrenaline, as father looked to us then. We all glared at the sight of dead monster at our feet. Roman.

Father stood and handed us two swords that he'd slung on his back.

"Let us show theses beasts we shall not be the only ones to die this night."

They'd completely entered the village by now, ransacking and slaughtering as they went. We stayed behind the homes and ambushed them as they came. One by one, they dropped. The sight and sound of our people being slaughtered like animals only fueled our rage. We ran into the middle of all the chaos and jumped them like possessed men. Slicing, stabbing, and hacking at their disgusting bodies.

I lost track of time. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. There were just so many of them. We'd killed so many already, and yet they still came. There were hardly any survivors left. We'd already lost sight of father some time ago and were too enraged to care to look. Everywhere I turned was destroyed. I wouldn't give up. I would not lose.

Those of us left had fled from those on horseback. Running towards the homes, trees, anything to separate them. I managed to kill all who followed me before heading back. I could no longer see Gawain. I was growing tired. My arms ached form the weight of the sword, my legs from running every which way so long. There couldn't be any left. There just couldn't.

I could see no one else as I was attacked again from the side. Kicked to ground I managed to roll and strike upwards as it launched after me. Dead, I tossed him off and continued with the one behind him. I could only hear those that were left. None of us wished to die, but all men and boys fell alike. I heard as one after the other as they fell in heaps to the ground before falling silent.

I knew I wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. And it would seem the Gods wished to prove me right. They came from all sides; there was little I could do. Beaten and stabbed from all sides I felt whatever strength I had left vanish into the night. One final stab through the gut and a kick to my back sent me to the ground hard.

I didn't get up, not this time.

I was too weak to try. My body ached, and I felt cold, as I lay drenched in everyone's blood, consciousness started to evade me. The glow of flames glared harshly across the ground. The putrid smell of burning flesh filled my nose. I didn't deserve to live. Emotions bubbled within me with the sudden urge to cry. And I did, as a lone tear fell from my eye.

I had failed.

I had fail and I was going to die. I angry. I wasn't angry because I was going to die. No, I was angry because I had failed to slaughter all those demons as they had us. And I wasn't just angry; I was enraged; enraged at myself for being so week. I had failed.

Death came quickly then. I felt a horrible pain in my neck before my world went dark.

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I awoke.

My eyes shot open as quickly as the thought had registered. I had died and yet I awoke. What trickery was this? What was happening? My thoughts became all the more frantic at feeling dirt all around me, encasing me from all sides. Had I been buried alive? I was frantic, curious, but most of all scared; scared of everything I didn't know, which at the moment was everything. I clawed every which way, hoping to find a way out of this prison until, finally, I did.

My hand shot out into the open only to be grabbed and wrenched up into the open air. I didn't stumble or lose my footing in the slightest as I landed on the ground. This shouldn't be. I had been on the brink of death. And now, now I felt perfectly fine. I looked myself over for any sing of injury, but there was none, only but dirt. In fact, I could smell the dirt, the dried blood that still clung to my form, the hint of salt in the breeze. It was dark out, but I was surprised at how well I saw everything around me as well. I could see each individual ant across the dirt, each leaf upon the trees, the soft dew splayed on the grass. I didn't seem dark at all. How could this be possible?

Something shifted to my left and turned fast as a growl pushed itself passed my lips. A growl? I dismissed the thought as I kept my eyes on the shadowed figure by the tree. Surprisingly, a woman stepped forward. She seemed older than I but not by much. She was draped in a pelt skirt, fur boots, and leather binding across her chest and shoulders. Hair darker than the night itself fell past her shoulders. What wouldn't let me turn away, other than her being a stranger, were her eyes. The smile spread across her face looked harmless and inviting, but her eyes held something else behind them entirely. That, and the fact she carried a sword in her left hand, my sword.

Neither of our gazes faltered until finally, "I believe this is yours."

Such a simple statement, and yet, everything came rushing back after her hauntingly beautiful voice. I took it from her offering hand and glared at the now useless weapon. I had failed hadn't I? What good would it serve me now? And yet here I was. If I had lived then perhaps so had others. A wave of hope swelled within me as I took off running without hesitation.

It took me far less to get back, something I pushed from my mind as I passed the first set of remains. Almost every home had been destroyed or burned to the ground. The smell of ash and dead flesh stung my nose; blood and bodies littered the ground. There was nothing left, nothing at all. I felt emptiness at the realization. I had been a fool to hope.

I had been so hopeful that somebody, anybody, had survived. But whatever shimmer of hope I had left was wrenched from me as I turned the last home. I flinched violently, unable to look away. There in the pile of dead lay Enid, Cayden, and mother burned on the ground. Drysten and Gawain lay to the right along with others, pinned to ground struck by arrows and stab wounds. I could look no longer. I turned away and punched my anger at a tree, not only surprised I'd nearly made a hole threw it, but horrified when a body fell from behind, the head rolling a ways, father's head.

I staggered back in shock before clenching my fists in outrage. Everything was gone! Everything was destroyed at the hands of those beasts! I could feel the blood dripping from my fists but I no longer cared. My sister, my brothers, my father, mother. My village, my people. My home! I would track those beats down and kill them for what they'd done to us! To me!

I was so angry! I saw red and I was running before I new it. I cared about nothing except for the hunger that surged within me, the want to kill something at that very moment. I saw nothing and I didn't care.

There were screams of women and children. Feet were running this way and that. The sounds of ripped limbs and tearing flesh filled the night. The hungry growls, the horrified rapid heat beats all around me. The fear. I didn't know anything except that I couldn't stop until I could quench this unrelenting urge, this thirst.

I finally truly opened my eyes. Standing in the center of what I guessed was a neighboring village I saw everything. The destruction, the mangled bodies, the limbs decorating the ground, the blood; there was so much blood. And I loved it, this felling of being unstoppable, to do as I pleased, of raw power. I loved it; I welcomed it.

I heard a gleeful laugh and spun around prepared to kill whoever dared, only to she her standing there. She looked happy with her gleaming eyes and mischievous smile. She radiated power, the same I felt cursing through me. She laughed once again and I couldn't help but stare, her teeth. No, her fangs. I absentmindedly raised my bloodied hand to my own mouth only to prove my thoughts correct. I had them too.

"What am I?"

"Death." She answered with a proud smile. She looked away slightly before a mischievous look crossed her face as she stretched her me out to me. "Come. I have something for you."

She darted into the trees quickly like a snake strikes its prey. It was amazing, freeing, to follow her just as quickly without problem. It felt like this was second nature to myself. My eyes and body reacted as one, never failing as we weaved through trees, flying over the ground without a trace. She took us a few leagues east into the forest before jumping up and perching quietly on a high branch.

With a gentle hand placed on my shoulder and a finger to her lips in warning, we went forward. Branch to branch we went, quit as death itself, before she stopped us. She looked at me with a hungry look before looking down below us.

There was a small fire below surrounded by a small band of men, all dressed in armor. Familiar armor.

Romans.

I could feel the hunger erupt within me at the sight of the beasts… no, my prey down below. My gaze darkened and a growl rose from the back of my throat as a hungry smile broke upon my bloodied face.

They would pay.