Annie's POV:

Her friends were right; she needed to get out more. And that's exactly what she did.

They had been sitting and drinking for hours, talking about their lives, giggling and gossiping. Annie wasn't really in the mood, she had barely finished her second drink as she sat there silently, absently playing with her neon yellow straw. Her eyes wandered around until it caught a face…and a handsome face for that. Annie could make out his features pretty well; the flashing lights gave her quick hints of him; the black curls which sat just above his shoulders, the hint of stubble along his jaw and his dark eyes. Annie shook her head to stop herself. She had a fiancée at home, and she was in no position to lust over some other guy. No, no. You have morals, Annie, she whispered to herself. He caught her looking and grinned.

So she looked away for a bit, trying to focus on the conversation going on. They want to dance. Annie made a blubbering sound with her mouth and slumped back on her chair. Why did I even come here if I'm just going to sit around?

"You coming, babes?" her friend asked as they all shuffled from the booth.

"Um…" she looked down at her drink, then back up, smiling slightly. "Sure."

They danced for a bit, the alcohol finally taking over her body with a bubbling sensation. Annie giggled as she danced, her hands messing up her thick brown curls. Her back was turned, her head was looking over her shoulder and she saw him again, leaning back on the bar, the corners of his mouth raised up as he drank.

After that, it was all fuzzy, she only remembered two things: she remembered leaving with him and then she remembered being in a barely lit alley. She was against a wall and he smiled, his green eyes dark. His lips came close to her neck, he was reluctant at first, a hint of fear in his eyes which made him look like a frightened child, and then suddenly, his eyes turned black, and he bared two fangs. There was an excruciating pain after that, but then it faded and she felt light and dreamy.

Annie woke up screaming. She had a nightmare, but she was thankful that it was over. She turned her head, expecting to see Owen asleep next to her, and that would make her feel better—it always did. But she found the space next to her empty, and really, there wasn't any space next to her. She was on a metal bed with a white sheet draped over her. She realized that she wasn't in her room, but some other room with white, marble walls and wooden floors. Two warm hands rested on her shoulders and a calming voice spoke.

"Shh," it said, "You're okay now. You're safe."

"Where am I?" she cried out, shaking. He kept rubbing her shoulders for comfort.

"You're home now."

"This isn't my home!" she shouted, looking back. "It's…it's you…from the club. What did you do to me! Why am I here?!" Annie would've continued with questions, but she was silenced by another voice.

"I'm terribly sorry for all this," he said, walking over to her and kissing her hand gently. "Mitchell here,"—he nodded his head over to the mysterious man from the club—"is terrible at controlling himself when he sees a beautiful young lady like yourself walking around. My deepest and sincerest apologies for any distress my associate has caused." He looked at Mitchell who just groaned. "Oh!" the man said, "Where are my manners? My name is William Herrick, but everyone just simply calls me Herrick. What's your name?"

"A…Annie."

"Annie what, my dear?"

"Sawyer."

"Annie Sawyer," he said, nodding to Mitchell, "is a lovely name."—he smiled at her—"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Tea sounded great now, but she didn't want to accept anything from the people who captured her. "No," she said, "I don't even know why I'm here or what you want with me. You're strangers to me."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Herrick as he walked back and dragged a chair along to the side of the metal bed. Annie realized that she was in her underwear, and she was quick to jump to conclusions.

"Did you guys…uh," she looked down at her body, and her underwear could vaguely been seen through the white sheet. Herrick scoffed.

"Oh, good heavens, no! Nothing like that, Annie!" Herrick rubbed his nose and continued. "You see, Annie, you've changed. Your entire DNA sequence, your mind, your entire body is going through a change right now, and not a very comfortable change. Mitchell, over there, fed from you, his blood-lust took over his morals—"

"—His morals?" she asked, cutting him off.

Herrick adjusted his cuffs, "Yes," he said, "Mitchell was trying to go clean, he tried to abstain but he obviously failed. You see, what he did with you was, yes, try to feed from you with the intention of death, but half way through, he managed to stop himself and thus, the transformation began. You are now a vampire."

"I'm a…a vampire?"

"Yes."

"You're kidding me, aren't you?" she chuckled, "Where are the cameras?"

"Even if there were camera's around, they wouldn't see us." Mitchell said as he flicked through a magazine, his Irish accent thick and annoyed.

"I don't believe you," she said, breathing heavily. "You're messing with me."

"You do believe me, Annie," he said, "but you're fighting it, as if the lie will soothe you. Very well, feed yourself with whatever lies you wish but it will all be for naught since you are what you are now, and nothing, nothing, can stop it. This is human evolution; you're better, you're stronger, and faster than you were before when you were human, a mere mortal. You should be thanking us, isn't that right, Mitchell?"

Mitchell scoffed and continued reading.

"I'm a monster now," Annie pressed on, "I shouldn't be thanking you for that!"

"This is all part of the process, my dear." He smiled sweetly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Soon you will realize that this is a glorious gift. However, sometimes it takes longer for some other people to realize that"—he looked at Mitchell and turned back to Annie, rubbing her back. "Mitchell's going to take care of you for a bit while I sort out the paper work. Terrible how much paperwork goes into a new recruit—it's insane!"

Herrick left and Mitchell came over with her dress. "We cleaned the blood off it, so I'll leave you to get changed." Mitchell walked out and closed the door. Annie finally began to cry, but silently so she wouldn't catch anyone's attention.

A vampire, she thought. Her entire life flashed before her eyes, past and future. She would never get married, she would never have kids, she'll never see Owen again; never see him laugh, or shave or get dressed. Little Annie who wouldn't even kill a fly was now, and will be forever, a vampire—a fanged, immortal, blood-sucking vampire. The thought of never dying, of always staying the same seemed like an attractive thought to her at first, but the bitter truth hit her like a truck; she'll see everyone she's ever loved die around her, and she'll be alone for God knows how long with no escape from it.

Annie pulled herself together and got changed. There was no point in fighting it anymore, she wasn't Annie Sawyer anymore; she was shell of her former self. She left her old life, and stepped into another, just as frightening as the last. Annie felt dizzy; she was hungry, thirsty for something, and that's when it hit her. Blood lust. She needed blood now, and she wanted it from Mitchell.