Carlisle

I was disgusting. I was worse than the filth on the streets, London's very worst.

I passed a lake, and my eyes were bright red, like the blood that I craved. I had run from the city - there were hundreds of people around me, just trying to tempt me. I have apologised to God, I believed this was my test, or trial in the early days. I tried so many ways to kill myself, but I can't. I have jumped from a cliff, tried to drive a stake through my heart and even tried to burn myself, but I couldn't do it.

The last thing I remember before I became like this, was the vampires. I can barely remember it, as though it were a distant dream, faded by years awake, but I can remember it nonetheless. I recall hunting for vampires, in the stead of my father. His devotion to God always inspired me, although I do not believe that his strict faith is what is right for me. I believe that God is kind, not to be feared. He was getting older, no longer able to participate in the hunt, so I went for him. I had seen the creature a few weeks ago, leaving a sewer. I believed it was a true vampire and decided to lead the next raid there. As we were chasing the beast, he turned to attack us. He first attacked me, but left to attack two of my men and ran off with the third. I felt a burning in my neck, in my shoulder, like nothing I had felt. At first I believed it just to be pain from the wounds it had afflicted on me, but then it started to spread. The fire spread through my veins, immobilising me. I refused to scream out, to alert people to what I was becoming. I made my way to the nearest place I could hide - a cellar full of old potatoes. I curled up, refusing to make a sound as I was burnt towards my death. I writhed in pain for weeks, months, years - what was only days to the rest of the fire pulsed through my whole body, as I never uttered a sound. I started to hear things - footsteps on the streets above, the flow of water in the gutters. I heard the creaking of floorboards above me. I heard my heart pounding in my chest, faster and faster. I found my toes, my fingers stopped burning, and slowly the fire withdrew from my arms, my legs. My head became clearer and I could finally think of things other than the pain. So many things. The fire in its entirety centred on my chest, in my heart. My heart was thundering, and it took all of my strength not to call out, to shout for help. I'm sure somebody must have heard though, for my heart was so loud it could have woken a city. And then it stopped. I was a vampire.

After my heart stopped, I felt a burning in my throat. It was nowhere near as bad as the torture I had endured, that would have been impossible. But it was there, very much so. I smelt a scent, so sweet and mouthwatering and my body instantly fell into a crouch. I caught myself, I would not become an animal, a beast. So I ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could. I travelled from place to place, avoiding civilisation, keeping clear of the well travelled paths. I tried to starve myself, but all I achieved was a horrible pain in my throat. I still endured it though, refusing to taste the human blood that my instincts drove me towards. Instead I tried every way I could think of to kill myself, but nothing worked. My travels lead me through a thick woodland, where I smelt a herd of deer. I had eaten veal when I was human had I not? What would be wrong with trying it now? And so I did. The instincts I had denied for so long overcame me. I slid into an almost feline crouch, and prepared to spring. With no trouble at all I took down two of the largest in the herd, and my throat stopped burning. The fire was still there, but it was smothered for the time being. At that moment I promised to survive off animal blood, and do what I could to help people. It was then that I realised that this might not be a trial, or a test from Heaven, but a gift, a way to better help others.

I continued to travel, studying medicine at night. I travelled through Europe, where I eventually ended up in Italy. While there I found a coven, the Volturi. There were 6 of them, Marcus, Caius and Aro, along with their wives. Also there was the guard. They made it their business to prevent us from being exposed. They showed me great kindness, and I stayed with them for a while, however they drank human blood. Not wanting to feel any temptation, no matter how small, eventually I left them to find my own way. I continued to study medicine, working at hospitals on night shifts.

I eventually ended up working in Chicago, around 1917. As the first wave of the Spanish Influenza hit, I was working in one of the biggest hospitals. I hated the fact that I had to go home, pretending to sleep when I could have been saving lives. It was there that I treated the Masen family, with their vivid green eyes, and bronze hair.

Alice

I screamed and writhed and shook with pain. It was too much to bear. I didn't know why this was happening, but then why wouldn't it? What was my life like before? It wasn't. I didn't have a life before. This pain was all I knew. But there must have been something before. There wasn't. Why was this happening? It hurts. How does it not stop? It wouldn't stop. It would never stop. Why was everything so dark? What had I done to deserve this?

And then it stopped.

My eyes flew open when my last heartbeat thundered into nothingness. I gazed around myself, at surroundings I knew, but I had never seen before. The smell of urine was strong around me, it burned my nose. My throat burned too. In front of me, on my eyelids, in my mind, I saw a picture. An American diner, with high leather barstools and an old jukebox in the corner. Standing at the door was a beautiful, striking boy, almost a man. His skin was pale white, with crescent shaped scars rising from it. The scars did not disfigure him, as they would any normal person, instead they added to his beautiful mystique. Beautiful amber eyes burned from his face, so sharp and clear. His golden blonde hair was dripping wet from the pouring rain outside, although he didn't appear cold in the slightest. His stance showed a military background, poised to run or attack as needed. At that moment, I knew I had to seek out this beautiful man. Then, the picture disappeared, replaced by another one. The diner morphed into a rich green forest, with trees covered in moss. A beautiful family, all with pale skin and topaz eyes standing in a forest, one of them drinking the blood of a deer. I was part of the family, with my military man. The beautiful family. I was beautiful, just like them. I needed these people.

I heard the clicking of a metal lock, and a faint whisper of "Run, my child.". I did not know where the voice came from, but I took the advice. I ran through the thick door, and through the corridors of the building. All around me were cries and moans of people locked away. I heard electricity and screams. The corridor was made up of plain solid stone and metal doors, and I ran to get away. I left the horrible, stinking place and did not look back.

I searched for years for the places from my pictures. I fed off wildlife, and animals like the people from my visions. My eyes faded from the dreadful red to a less noticeable amber, and then topaz. I spent so much time watching people, how they interacted with each other. I watched loving families happy together, and I watched arguments between people who hated one another. I enjoyed going to fashion shows, as it was a chance to watch people truly happy and proud of their creations, like a child at a science fair. I went to shops, to see people as they were, what they enjoyed doing. I enjoyed watching couples, her dragging him along, his grumpy face although I could see the secret enjoyment at her happiness. I was so curious as to what it was to be human. I had no memory of experiencing it. I imitated what they did, buying clothes, doing makeup, did all I could to try and fit in. But I knew I wasn't one of them, I was different.

One day I saw it. The diner from the picture all those years ago. It was just standing there in a small town as though waiting for me. I bought a house near there, and started going in whenever it rained. Sal, the woman who owned it, always had a glass of water waiting for me on those days. She never questioned me when I sighed at the last rain drop, when I smiled silently at her and walked out. I had to be there for that beautiful boy, with the golden hair and strange scars.

Then, one rainy day I looked out of the window. It was him. He looked glorious, standing out there in the rain. He wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, but he looked uneasy. He suddenly looked as though he had made a decision, and he walked inside. His clothes looked travel worn, as I had expected. I leapt off the stool I had been sat on, and walked over to him. I was so glad I had finally found him, I was smiling.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," I said simply. He ducked his head.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." He replied in a soft southern accent, looking taken aback.

I held out my hand, a silent offer. A look of confusion then happiness flashed across his face. A brief flash of his hand in mine crossed my sight, and then that vision became reality. At that moment, I knew I was the happiest person alive, or otherwise.