I wrote this story simply out of boredom, if you enjoy it, please review and give me ideas and let me know if i've made any mistakes. This chapter is really short since I wanted to upload a bit A.S.A.P. Thank you, enjoy!

ONE.

I dropped the woman's lifeless body in a dumpster; she wouldn't have been important to anyone, a lonely middle aged alcoholic. Her blood was impure and tasted like a human's equivalent of mouldy cheese. Disgusted and unsatisfied, I licked away the liquid from my lips and turned to my brother. He wasn't looking my way; he stared with unseeing eyes at the alley opening, arms crossed, and leaning against a damp wall.

'Aren't you hungry?' I asked and straightened out my clothes. Isaac pushed himself upright and glanced at me.

'I'll pass' He murmured and began scaling up the building.

'Suit yourself then' I mumbled back, knowing that he would hear anyway, and followed close behind. Zac was already blocks ahead, but he hadn't fed properly for a few days; therefore, I had the advantage. Under the pale moonlight our skin looked even more ghostly pale as we glided and swerved over the tops of buildings and apartments. Breathing in felt good, a luxury, we didn't need it; just a sorry reminder that we were indeed, dead. Well... Sort of. A few seconds later I'd reached Zac and overtaken him, he flicked me off, making me laugh slightly and pelt it faster. Damn it felt so good, to be so carefree, just to let my body guide me. It was only a moment later that we slid to a stop; I'd beat him again, much to his distaste.

'Just you wait until next time' He carried on blankly throwing his declarations of war, in a typical boyish manner, as we dropped down the balcony's and swung onto our own. The apartment was cool, I had to admit, I'd decorated it with block colour one day when I had nothing else better to do. His cockiness didn't last long though; he went straight into his room and locked the door behind him. Rolling my eyes I went into my own. Why is it like this? Why can't Zac be like the old Zac? Ever since he enrolled in that diabolical college and stopped drinking straight from the good stuff, he's been different; caring, which is bad for Vampires. Caring for anyone else but yourself and your family was a bad move to make. It got you killed, and more importantly, it got you hurt. I'd learnt that the hard way when I was younger. I slowly undressed, and with just my underwear, climbed comfortably into bed. I fell asleep a few hours later, listening to the calm swooping sound of pen on paper. Zac was writing, poetry, something he wouldn't show me. He never did. I wonder what goes on in that mind of his...