Chapter I

The Leader

I never tried to stay in one spot for too long. I moved constantly around Europe, and changed my name regularly so that I would never be recognised.

It was in the year 1490 when I made two mistakes. My first mistake was to favour the small town of Brasov - I stayed there for too long, occupying a manor on the outskirts of the site under the guise of a nobleman. Brasov had a rather large population for most of the villages in the country, but people began to notice the disappearances of my victims. They whispered of a monster in the forest surrounding the town, being the superstitious mortals that they are. But no one seemed to realise that the disappearances happened to start at around the same time as my arrival.

No one, except one man.

My second mistake was to choose the home of this man. Carlisle was the son of the local preist, and he was the only person in Brasov who recognised me for what I truly was – a moroii.

Or, in your language, a vampire.


The sky glowed orange as the sun finished retreating behind the horizon, but the village below were not yet asleep. All of the men were in the village square, holding everything from swords to pitchforks, flaming torches to wooden stakes. They were talking and there was shouting but everyone went quiet when the blond man came forward.

He was only young, in about his late twenties, but all the men of the village seemed to show respect to him. In his left hand he held a flaming torch too – but now he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"For three years this man who claims to be a baron has resided in our lands. And, three years ago, the disappearances of our friends, children, wives, brothers, and mothers…" his voice broke slightly on the last word, "has continued without any answers!

"But now, we go armed with the truth, to destroy the monster that has ruled us! Tonight we march to his manor to show him what we will not stand by to watch evil reign!"

There came loud, raucous cheers from the men and they started beating their drums, or banging their weapons on the floor, starting a formidable drumming noise.

The pack of six hundred strong men started marching down the well-worn forest path towards the manor at the outskirts of the village. Led by the blond man, they headed into the dark cover of the forest.

The dark of the forest was broken only by the small lights held in the hands of the men. They kept marching, and kept cheering, and nobody noticed something move in the shadows of the trees behind them.

"There!" yelled the blond man as he pointed to the castle in front of them. Only one window at the topmost tower was light – everything else was dark.

The men started cheering again, but when they were within one hundred metres of the manor, above the yelling a strangled scream was heard.

There was an almost sudden silence as everyone stopped. A voice yelled out "Petyr's gone!" and murmuring started amongst the men.

Only the leader saw the flash of red in front of their eyes as, one by one, five more of the strangled, angst-filled cries filled the air, then were stopped.

Someone else screamed and men started to panic, trying to run back through the village. Through the dim light given off by the torches, the blond leader saw a body on the ground. The expression on his face was one of shock rather than pain, and the leader realised that the neck had been broken.

"It knows we're here," whispered the leader before yelling, "Continue on! We have to destroy this thing while we still can!"

Now shaking and much more cautious, the men reluctantly turned and started heading back towards the castle.

Suddenly, the place was filled with smoke. There were more, many more screams and flames started dancing out from the forest. The leader pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and tried to run, but it came for him next.

It had red wild eyes, a chalk-white complexion and its mouth was wide opened – dripping from its teeth was blood. Too late, the leader realised his mistake as he screamed.

They never had a chance against the monster.

The monster effortlessly reached down, pulling the leader towards him almost in an embrace before plunging his fangs into the vein in the neck. The leadern screamed again, but he was thrust aside as the moroii sprinted off into the dark for another victim.

On the ground, the blond began to crawl, trying to get out of the smoke where he couldn't breathe, and away from the flames where he couldn't burn. As he crawled out, he realised it wasn't the flames that were burning him.

He choked back shrieks of terror as the burning started at his neck and spread all the way to his body.

Pain was not the right word for this – it was torture.

In a last ditch attempt he crawled, barely able to see, and abruptly hit something. A felled tree hollow, he dimly realised as he crawled into it. He couldn't breathe in the stuffy air within the wood but he didn't care any more.

He closed his eyes and shut his mouth, wishing with everything he had that he could just die that much quicker.

XxX

"What is your name?" the voice came dimly through the haze of pain.

"Answer me, human. What is your name?"

"Carlisle," he finally managed to choke out. "My name is Carlisle. Who are you?"

There was a deep chuckle. "I am your Creator. But you may call me Trey."

Carlisle was quiet. He couldn't breathe. His lungs took in the air but they weren't absorbing the oxygen.

He listened for his pulse. It was slow. Too slow. Carlisle was no doctor but he knew enough to realise that this was too wrong.

The burning pain was still in his veins, but it had receded somewhat.

"What…what…"

There was the chuckle again. "I will tell you when it stops."

When what stops? Carlisle wanted to say, but now he listened. The thump-thump of his heart grew slower and slower, until…

"It's stopped," Carlisle whispered. He hadn't opened his eyes yet. The burning had faded completely now, except for something in his throat.

"I know," said Trey, sounding amused. "I can hear it."

"You can hear…" Carlisle was confused when he opened his eyes. It was nighttime, and he was in the back of an open wagon. A tarp had been roughly thrown over him like a blanket, and he was surrounded by packages of clothes and some of jewellery and coins.

He knew what was in the packages because he could hear the gentle chink, chink of the metal on metal in the packages.

Sitting on front of the wagon, with the reigns in his hands, was a man with a cloak wrapped almost completely around himself.

"You can hear my heartbeat?" said Carlisle. Trey chuckled again.

"Yes. I can hear everything. You can too. Listen."

Carlisle closed his eyes and listened.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

The burn had returned, but this time it was in Carlisle's throat.

DRINK! Carlisle jumped over the Trey and landed on the back of the horse that was pulling the wagon. The horse shied, neighing, but Carlisle reached forward and plunged his teeth into the neck of the beast, drinking.

It screamed in terror but Carlisle kept drinking. As he drank the burning in his throat lessened, and the horses struggles did too. Finally when his thirst was satisfied, Carlisle moved back, looking at the poor beast on the ground. Only then did he realise.

I did it. I killed it. I've become one of them.

Trey was clicking his tongue. "You've just lost our transport. From hereon, you can pull the carriage until I get to my next stop to buy another horse. But you'll probably drink that one too." Carlisle turned and realised that Trey's cloak was wrapped completely around him, and his hood was pulled down so low that Carlisle couldn't see his face.

"You're it, aren't you? The one we tried to kill," said Carlisle softly as the memories of that night came back to him. The screams of terror, the smoke, and the red eyes…

"Yes," replied Trey, pulling his hood back. The chalk-white skin, the dark mop of hair, and the red eyes. "I changed you. Not on purpose, of course. I bit and drained the first man, but I didn't have enough time to drink you. The others… well, I did it the simple way. I broke their necks."

"The others?" asked Carlisle, then suddenly the horror hit him. "You monster," he seethed. "You killed them all!"

Trey just laughed. "Of course. I could not allow anyone to live, or they might… spread the true story. And although humans are simple to deal with, it is still annoying when a horde comes knocking at your doorstep at midnight."

"You're a monster!" yelled Carlisle. "I won't stay with you, murderer!" He turned around, preparing to walk away.

"You don't have a choice," said Trey in an almost amused tone. "You must stay with me. I'm the only one who knows what you are… and how to handle you. Or would you rather walk off knowing nothing?"

Carlisle paused. As much as he hated Trey, he was right. He turned back around.

"Of course," added Trey lightly, "You're like me now. A monster. Unless you're going to live on those for the rest of eternity," said Trey with a laugh as he pointed to the horse's corpse on the ground.


Carlisle was my favourite out of the ones I changed. He turned out to be logical, smart, and dedicated. We travelled the country, leaving Romania and eventually heading to France. I taught him about what he was. He of course knew what a vampire was, but he needed to know the difference between rumour and fact.

For the next few years Carlisle became learned. He spoke seven languages and was an excellent conservationist. But there was one thing about him annoyed me - he refused to drink human blood, instead choosing to live exclusively on animal blood.

After three years, we met the next one who I would change.