The first thing Edward noticed was the intense silence in the room. It hadn't been this quiet when he had visited the library last week, even with no one in the room. He stared at the middle-aged man arranging books on the table in front of him.

"It's quiet in here"

"That's because this is a library." The man answered, not looking up from his work.

"No, I mean, I can't hear your thoughts anymore," Edward realized with shock. "Why can't I hear your thoughts anymore? What's going on? Am I dying? I must be dying as payment for my sins! And I deserve it, don't I? I'm a monster!" He wailed.

"Do you mind? I just said this is a library, please keep the self-pity to a reasonable volume." He sighed, "as for why you can't hear my thoughts, we had an… unfortunate incident a few days ago with mind readers. I managed to dig this charm out of storage yesterday and decided to keep it on me incase she had a relapse."

"She?"

Mr. Giles looked up, "That's not your concern. You're here to find out more about your condition, Mr. Cullen. The problem is, I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you. The closest thing I find that resembles your condition is an old magic that was presumably lost over two thousand years ago. A being made out of stone or mud, known as a golem."

"Is that what I am?" Edward stepped forward, trying to see the book that now lay open on the table. "That must be what I am!"

"It doesn't seem likely," Mr. Giles replied, "these being were often created as servants to their sorcerers and had runes carved into their foreheads, which we can see is not the case for you. Furthermore, they were generally mute and not very intelligent, and these tantrums about your soul and whatever else you've been crying over indicate that the first is, well, not applicable."

Edward gazed at the face of the librarian, so intently studying the book, searching for something he might have missed. What could he be thinking? He wondered, strangely drawn to this man who knew enough of magic that he could block out a vampire's gift. Or wait, no, not a vampire, he was something else. "What about the blood?" he asked "If I'm not a vampire, why must I drink blood?"

"Well, vampires aren't the only things that require blood for sustinence." The other man explained "It's a metaphorical draining of life," he sighed "you'd be surprised how much the occult seems to rely on metaphor alone."

"So, it is true," Edward said, his voice trembling, "I am a monster. WHHHHHYYYYYYYY!"

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME THE FIRST FIFTEEN TIMES? WE'RE IN A BLOODY LIBRARY!" Mr. Giles cleared his throat, sheepishly, as the two students doing "research" peeked down from the balcony above to see what was going on. He continued in a much lower voice. "Look, you say you're a monster, but you only drink from animals, how many people have you actually succeeded in killing?"

"Well, I killed a bunch of criminals before I went 'vegetarian'" He looked over at Giles who had a confused look on his face. That quizzical expression… why does it seem so strange all of a sudden, so different… so handsome?

Giles sighed and shook his head, "I'm not sure what to tell you. Sure, the killing may be bad, but you were actually protecting people, weren't you? Honestly, you're far from the soulless monsters I've seen around. Those creeps would give you nightmares."

Edward bristled, "I could handle them."

"Oh, yes, of course," he smiled, grimly, "you could handle the creatures that take delight in every kill, drawing it out, playing games with their victims, waiting until they're begging to die and then…"

A shiver ran down Edward's spine and he was almost glad he couldn't hear this man's thoughts. "Well, you seem to handle them pretty well. I didn't notice any mental instability last time I was here." He leaned in closer, lips first, trying to make his voice breathy and seductive, "When I could tell what you wanted just by being near you…"

"What are you-? No, out of my library." Giles got up and walked swiftly to the door. He opened it and pointed, "There's your exit, I don't have any information for you."

"But I can't read your mind," Edward explained as he walked to the door, "How do I know if you really want me to leave? What if you feel the same?"

"I can assure you right now that I don't."

"I'm closer to your age than any of these kids you hang out with! And five times as handsome."

"How old do you think I am? Don't answer that, just get out of here."

Edward sighed and walked through the door. "So, I'll stop by next week to see if you've made any more progress?" The door slammed in his face. "Yea, one'o'clock works great for me, too!"