Author's Note: This was a late night mental meandering.
I was watching an older vampire movie and this just hit me.
I was inspired by many fandoms for this. The Vampire Lestat (The Book),
Dracula 2000, Blade Trilogy, Van Hellsing and finally...Supernatural.
I really hope this pleases and intrigues.
Any feedback is graciously welcomed. I REALLY want to know
how this registers with you all. I don't know if I will take it beyond
this one chapter considering how many other stories I should be
updating instead...*guilty look.* But, nonetheless, I love all my
readers and commenters. Hugs and hopefully I'll be updating something
again soon!

Lessons Not Learned In Blood Are Soon Forgotten

For centuries men have waged wars and killed each other.

This is nothing that hasn't been observed since the dawn of Man. Blood and pain spilling over the land and seeping it's way into the sea. Death. Always death, nothing can escape death. Adam and Eve. Lilith. Angels, demons, and eventually God. Death comes for all. No way to escape it for good, but it is possible to elude Death for a while. Prolong the inevitable board meeting, so to speak. The better members of my family have met Death, all my brothers and sisters. Those who live now are sad excuses for what my Mother made us to be. I am the last of the original group made from the early humans. I had brothers and sisters who I loved deeply. We were perfect. Angels knew not to interfere with our affairs, Demons abandoned their possessed at out presence. And now, I am the last. I have been asleep for many, many years. But now I am stirring, being called back to a world where those who've descended from my mother's blood shall fear me and answer for their weaknesses. They have become animals, a shame to my Mother's gift. Carelessly ravaging humans and threatening exposure to their ever eager eyes.

Yes, even something as perfectly created as myself can die.

After years of walking the earth, existing beside humans, war happened. Sin. Plague. Famine. No longer did the son of man want to willingly sustain us in a peaceful manor...they evolved. It took many centuries for humans to develope appropriate methods for killing my kind. But once they knew, they used their weapons wisely and precisely. I watched as one by one my family fell, leaving behind worthless excuses as predecessors. My heart began to get heavier and heavier with disdain. I'd become fed up with war and the very thing that which kept me alive, blood. Titles were put on my kind by those in Heaven and those of Hell. Abominations. Blasphemeous. Mistakes. Undeserving. Though I cannot defend the manners developed by my family after The Hunter's War started, I can say we'd not always been totally evil. Some of us, yes. Born completely from darkness with intent to maim and kill, but some of us just wanted to live amongst the humans in this world. We wanted to worship under the stars and praise our Mother and God. At the end of the day, I am just a child who loves her parents. Caught between two rocks. Humans and the children of my brothers and sisters...then one day I'd had enough.

I came out of the shadows and aligned myself with a family of humans who'd descended from the original family of Hunters. Hellsing.

Corad Hellsing was the first of his blood line to embrace the dark gift I gave to him to help him and his children become stronger, more able-bodied to fight the things in the nighttime. For over a two hundred years I trained and overseen the Hellsing family in their battles against the scourge of my kind. Despite the obvious disdain they originally had for me, after a few years they became my new family. I watched as the Hellsing daughters and sons married then birthed children...and I loved them. They were my strong tether to the world which my kind had been banished from. During this time, the world continued to change. My human family was just that, human. I helped bury them all.

Around the time industry hit London and wooden ships were replaced by steel glistening beasts, I watched as Corad's great great great granddaughter Bria, gave birth to a son. Vallian, she named him. His hair was like corn silk, his eyes were wide and as blue as the ocean. As soon as the midwife had him cleaned and swaddled, I watched as Bria took him to her breast and fed the infant. His father watched with pride as his beautiful young wife nurtured his beautiful newborn son. I too, felt very proud. Once the child had fed and went to sleep, Bria handed him to me. It was a tradition to give my blood after the first feeding, my blood would insure his vitality against illness and disease. He would grow sturdy. He would live a full life, granted one of my kind didn't get a good chance on him. So I held this child, close and gentle to my body. I smiled, telling Bria what a wonderful job she'd done. How perfect Vallian was. The small, exhausted woman only beamed and held her husband's hand. As I had many times before, I brough my finger to my mouth. I barely felt the sharp sting of my tooth cutting the flesh, only smelled the familiar scent perfume the air once the skin was broke. I stood at the foot of their bed, in lamp light, preparing to rub my bleeding digit over the childs gums...when his wide blue eyes fluttered open. I smiled, gently talking to the baby. Carefully I opened his mouth and let my blood smear on the toothless gums. But unlike ever before with Hellsing infants, he did not cry at the strong taste or even whimper. Vallian just stared up into my face, wrapping his small hands around mine. As my essence slowly absorbed into his system I felt the initial connection weaving itself together. But it was stronger than it had ever been before. It gave me hope.

More years passed and I kept a close eye on the boy. He grew up strong and intelligent, excelled my expectations and his family's. At 26 years of age, he was overseeing the Hellsing battlefront. Vallian was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Grace just seemed to resonate from within him. He brought wealth with his mind, and honor with his sword. His mother and father tried marrying him off many times, but the handsome human wouldn't hear of it. Frequently he'd come to me, seeking advice or knowledge...then sometimes he'd just visit to check on me. Val would show up at my door after a fight, flowers and gifts in hand. After a while I knew why he refused all suggestions of marriage prospects. He was in love with me. I knew it was only natural for him, seeing me nearly everyday his whole life. I was a constant, even when Death would claim his family or his friends, I never aged nor died. My alluring beauty is a part of what makes me deadly. My hair was once said to be colored by the blood of humans I'd drank, my eyes the color of the gray ashes left behind from their funeral pyres. I am lilth in size and not very tall. My skin is pale regardless of the sun it's seen from my journies across God's creation. I had only been a young woman when my Mother evolved me into her's. But, because I thought of myself as a lady in some respect, I would ignore these things and counsil Vallian in the knowledge he sought. Unfortunately though even I, an immortal who's been around nearly since the dawn of Man, could not resist the loneliness I felt inside. No longer did the familial bonds of the Hellsing's fill the void of my lost family.

One night, shortly after his 31st birthday, I let him into my room in the Hellsing Manor. But unlike all the times before the air was different. His eyes were heavy with unshed thoughts and emotions he'd been so good at bottling up. Then he made his move. I of course could have stopped him with a single touch, but I didn't. With the ferocity of a wild beast he threw himself against me in my night-clothes, gripping my hair as if he was drowning. I succumbed to the hot flames that burned between us as his lips captured and consumed me. That night he bound us together, melding himself with me in only a way I'd seen my siblings do. His blood flowed with mine, strengthening the bond I'd created shortly after he'd come from his mother's womb. For the first time in the hundreds of years I'd been involved with the Hellsing family, I drank from their vein. It was better than anything that had yet passed my lips. Vallian Hellsing was mine, and I his. Days later he proposed, I accepted. His mother, gray and old in age, had given her blessing in replace of his dead father's. Bria eventually told me she'd seen it coming, knowing her son was special and the strongest of them yet. We were set to marry in the spring. Val had never been more radiant and happy. He'd been beautiful. The days and nights not spent killing monsters or banishing demons, we spent making love and laughing. He taught me so many things, as I taught him.

I had expected the euphoria of our joining to eventually wear off, but it never did. It only grew stronger, and before long my void was gone. All pain of my existence was healed. His blue eyes never lost the fire when he'd murmur my name, his hands always were eager. Vallian was my soul mate. I, the blasphemous creature with no soul, had found its other half. How could the Angels and Demons say I was not with a soul? Maybe Vallian had given me one, yes, he'd given me a soul.

I'd watch him all the time. I loved watching him prepare for his days. He'd carefully brush his long pale blonde hair, tie it neatly back. His clothes reflected his wealth, but were in no way obnoxious. Instead of the fine tailored suits his brother wore, he'd wear trousers and a tucked in loose shirt. Power also radiated off him. Years spent fighting and training made him muscular and sturdy, but his face was always welcoming. He was my perfect human, a human who would age and die. Without a doubt in my mind I knew for certain I'd never change him into the thing he'd spent nearly his whole life killing. I would stay with him until he died of a wound or old age, then I would follow him directly into Death's embrace. We'd talked about the harsher realities of our love and he accepted them. I could never bore his legacy, and that filled me with deep sadness. For so long I'd watched the women give birth to children. The pain and exhaustion...even death from complication. Yet, I would have done anything to have Val's sons and daughters. When I would fret over these things, he'd kiss me and hold me. Assuring me that it didn't matter that we'd never have children, I was enough for him. There was plenty of other's to carry on the Hellsing name and family job. And for a while, I took solace in that.

The spring came gently from winter and we were preparing for our marriage. It had been a lovely time to be in London. Even the monsters seemed to be taking a break, but in hindsight now, I should have known. I had gotten careless and swept up. Incredibly, all Hellsing family members who lived outside the city or country found their way back home. All of them I knew. Vallian was respected and loved, the word of his impending marriage to myself had been such welcomed news. It had been moving. We were set to marry in the country side, on Corad's original farm land. Where it all had started, Val had jested. So much money was spent to prepare the old farm months in advance for our vows and the hundreds of guests set to be there. Even the Hellsing Castle was repaired and outfitted with beds and plenty of firewood to stock the hearths. It now felt like a dream, all the bliss we felt. Nothing at the time could have turned a head, not even mine...not until it was too late.

The night before the wedding, the farm was lit aflame. I woke from my sleep to the smell of smoke. I went to climb from my bed, panic flooding my senses to be trapped there. I tried throwing myself off the feather mattress, but I would only bounce back against an invisible wall. I had screamed and tore everything in my reach to shreds, fear running through every fiber of my being. Then I heard it. A laugh I'd never forget. Through the smoke and the falling wooden beams of the castle, I seen a lone man. But he was no man, I saw his true face. Demon. He never spoke to me, just pointed to the floor. My eyes found a symbol I did not know of until that moment. Enochian. Like a ring of holy fire will keep an Angel trapped, a circle made of moonstone powder,holy oil and dead man's blood will keep me trapped. I inhaled sharply, screaming in ancient tongues I hadn't used in centuries. He merely smiled and tossed me a bloody knife. Then the smell hit me. It was cold. Familiar. It was everything.

Vallian's blood. It smelled of death. After that, the demon was gone. I screamed, taking the knife and trying to stab myself...knowing ruefully the knife would not kill me. But over and over again I plunged it into my flesh. Around me the castle burned, stone crumbled and the fields of the Hellsing family went to ash. For days I laid there, trapped under rubble and within the circle. I listened as those who survived the initial attack succumbed to their injuries. In one fail swoop...my kind had wiped them all out. It would be a week before anyone would come to check about the prestigious family. It would be a week and 2 days before I would be found by an elderly man's dog. The circle was broke and I was so weak and in misery I couldn't raise my head. My skin was blackened from the flames which had licked every inch of me, my hair was burned away and I was deemed better off dead. The tragedy had shook the whole country. Instead of being taken to the hospital, they took me to the morgue. But I never passed on after my Vallian. I let my heart die indeed, but I was filled with murderous rage. I killed over a hundred people shortly after, draining them dry of everything. I would hear the screams and it wouldn't even penetrate my focus. For fifty years I killed my way across the Untited Kingdom and all the way into Asia before I had finally killed every creature and exorcised every demon who'd had anything to do with the Hellsing Massacre. When the blood of the last man possessed dried on my lips, I made my way to the shipping docks and bought a one way passage to America.

After a month at sea, I had arrived in Virginia. Though the Western world was much different than my beloved London, it had it's own charms. I carefully made my way from the Eastern ports to the more desolate towns towards the midwest. Towns there were poor and struggling, sickness running rampant. Because of the high mortality rate, I could not stay in one place too long. A young radiant beauty who never became ill would begin to raise suspicion. These were dark years for me, seeing things around me but never fully seeing anything. I would take care of my kind as I stumbled across them, take up the occasional exorcism when nobody was looking. Many rumors swirled on the lips of human and demon alike, things such as Hell Gates and a man named Samuel Colt. But I never bothered to investigate these things. After a while I gave up appearances and let the dirt and grime over take me. I fed off rapists and murderers, cleaning out the poorly guarded jails. When I became too bored, I'd travel to the plains and observe the Native Americans. They were the closest thing I could find to the days before The Hunter's War started. They would see me from afar, minding to keep their distance. They were majestic and pure. I respectfully kept my distance as well. Their magics as old as Man could pose a serious threat against me.

I lost track of the years that followed, but somewhere between trains and electricity I rose from the filth and became a lady once more. Cold and detached. I found easy wealth through my persuasive natural abilities and bought a small ranch in Montana. From there, I commissioned an underground mausoleum. After five years it was complete and I burnt my home down. I withdrew into the dark space, taking comfort in the cold stone and marble surrounding me. Once there I cried for my lost Vallian, cried for how far my kin had fallen from their original purpose. Days I cried, once again cutting myself deeply. My mission was simple, wound myself so severely I would go into a long hibernation. After my body was nearly drained and I could hardly keep my eyes open, I laid myself down inside the granite sarcophagus and went into the deepest of slumbers.

A hundred years passed as I slept, undisturbed and at peace. Blissful darkness had overtaken my mind, allowing my awareness and body to slowly start to heal from the exhaustion of my losses and revenge. If I was able to spend all of eternity like that, I would. But that cannot be. The world is different now, it is bleeding once more. Hunters are losing an uphill battle. I can sense it all around me, up above this tomb that has protected me. Heaven and Hell are playing roles which I do not understand, nor want to pretend to. I have been slowly coming into my mind for a while now, straining my inhuman ears to seek out anything from the supernatural wave lengths. Because of my age and origin, I can faintly hear the whispers of Heaven and the screams of Hell if I meditate on it...but in both places I hear one name. It is a mantra on many lips, a tune in many ears. It's drawing from my sleep, from my peace. For the first time in so very long, I have a new mission. I have another family to help. The Hunter's War will once again fall into the Hunter's favor.

My thin hands push up on the marble lid above me, dust shifting and dirt falling down around me. The air rushes in, I gasp, not minding the soil falling into my mouth. My razor sharp teeth extend, sensitive to the granules of rocks and earth. One more push allows me to sit up and begin climbing through the rubble and earth. While I slept, the tomb must have succumbed to the world changing above. Nonetheless, I must break the surface. So I climb, and I climb. Once I felt the cool air on my right hand as I reached toward's my Father's Heaven...I took a moment to build my energy. Minutes later, I emerged. The material of my dress having rotten away through the years...I meet this new world as a newborn. I am nude and I am new. My mouth is dry, teeth are thirsty. I gaze up at the night sky, it is still beautiful but much has changed. The air smells different, the world is louder. It's crying. My heart breaks for what was, and what shall never be again. My head swims with all the information pouring into me, streaming into me. Old world word, new meaning. Around there is no houses still, just a long even road and lights. Lanterns? No, electric lights. As they run, they buzz. It's almost deafening. But I take my time, adjusting to everything. My eyes one again fine the sky, searching for the stars of my time before. They are there, but shifted slightly through years. I clench my fists at my side, hearing the bone beneath crack and harden once more. My head falls back, hair tickling the backs of my legs from years of uncut growth. My dry cracked lips part...

I unleash a scream. It's unnatural and haunting. The battle cry of an immortal ready for war. The effort I put into the warning cry make my body shake and collapse onto my knees. I will find this family who's name is whispered and feared by those who's ruined everything that's ever been sacred to this existence. Mother help me, God forgive me. My feet tread the small rocks beside this smooth, black road ahead of me. Soon I will need to feed if I am to find those who I shall help in their battle.

I am Atarah, born of the first Men. Created daughter of Lilith. One of the two first Moon Children. I have seen war, I have personally hosted Death. I have wielded many weapons and won many battles. I have seen all of this world. My kin are all dead, and those whom have likeness to myself are merely shadows of the original beings which birthed them through blood. I believe I am the last of my kind, and I have chosen the humans. I am the last true Vampire, and with this I shall strike down once more the evil that threatens mortal life. I have come back one last time to aid in The Hunter's War, I have come to help the Winchesters.

**Thanks again so much for taking time to read this. Please don't forget to review this little drabble for me. If you would indeed like more of this story, let me know! I am ALWAYS welcoming to messages/questions/conversations.**