Author's Note: Yes, I know Vincent Valentine is NOT a vampire. I am aware of that fact, but I wrote this for my friend and she happens to like vampires. Not only that, but since we do find Vinnie in a coffin calling him a vampire is fitting, dontcha think? FURTHER MORE, I may make this into a series. I'm not sure, what do you think Kel?

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Vincent Valentine. I do NOT own Square Enix, FF7 or any such likelinesses of characters and situations. Therefore, you can not sue me.


When I was a young girl, growing up in the middle of no where in a small town not even worth naming, I was obsessed with vampires. The theory of them, the reason behind their mayhem. Why they drank blood, or bathed in it. How they killed, fed, lived. All of it fascinated me so.

I was seventeen years old the first time I met a vampire. He came to me in a dream, and told me his name -his purpose. The way he spoke was - eloquent to say the least. I wanted so badly to know more about him, he was beautiful. I hadn't expected that, not at all. I hadn't expected the way he led me in, possessed my thoughts.

I dreamed about him many, many times. Every dream he was the same, except for the last one. His pale flesh turned the tone of yours or mine. His lengthy raven hair was shorter, styled better at least in the fashion sense of the word. His thin body seemed to be filled out, and you could see both of his hands. One thing, however, remained the same. His blood red eyes. They had remained that unnatural, menacing color -yet, he was anything but.

That dream was frightening. A dream so vivid, so real, it felt more like a memory than a creation of my subconscious. I was scared, but - not for myself. For that beautiful man, now creature of the night, that so haunted my dreams. I saw what he saw, I deducted from thinking it through. But, why would he want me to see these things?

My friends, when I told them of my dreams, called me crazy. They called me delusional, hysterical. They told me to quit drinking when I had never even started! So I persisted in finding this man, this beautiful creation of God's.

I was twenty-five the day I met Vincent Valentine. I came upon him in a coffin, in the middle of the night, and I was swept away by everything he had to offer me, and more. I guess you could say his beauty pulled me in, or that it sealed the deal - but I think it was my dreams that led me to him. To my new found love.

I stayed with him, for a length of time. For how long I could not tell you - every hour with Vincent felt like a mere moment. Every moment in his arms felt like seconds. The theory of relativity came into play. One bad moment can seem like one bad hour. One good moment feels as if it were a moment. Vincent was something else altogether, he was not just a vampire but a - a lover. A friend, the companion I had been searching for.

Or maybe I was the girl, sorry woman, he had been searching for all along. Maybe those dreams were simply, a way for me to track him down, to find him and make him mine, if I was interested in him - and boy, was I.

Five or more years passed, I was thirty by Vincent's count, or so he said, when he had made up his mind. He wanted me to be with him - forever, and not a day less. He told me this, and asked, if I too wanted to be with him for eternity.

Like I said, I was infatuated with the theory of the vampire. Their ways, and the creatures themselves. That night, I became one of the blood-seeking undead. I wanted to stay with Vincent forever. To hear all he had to say, and to learn all he had to teach me. To love him, and for him to love me.