To the tune of: Bela Lugosi by the Town Monster.

It would end tonight.

Too long had I tolerated the gruesome, maniacal abuse. I knew exactly where to take him—I knew exactly to whom I could turn. And they would be more than willing to take him off my hands, I was sure. Drew would hate me for it, forever. He would never speak to me again, not I was about to intentionally put all of us in danger… Not after he will have learned that I decided to play God.

But I had to end it. Or else Jeremy would continue to murder the rest of those that I loved.

The authorities would come looking for him in the first few hours…and probably, after they calculated all the suspects, they'd be after me, as well, but they were the least of my worries. I began to wonder why it was he didn't break out of prison—he was more than capable.

Unless there was something that he wasn't telling us. Or that Drew wasn't telling me.

I had considered on more than one occasion that the government must've known about us. It would explain why we had gotten away with so much…and why some of us hadn't gotten away with certain things. It would explain why they sent a helicopter for Jeremy when they could have quite simply sent a cruiser instead…

Why he hadn't escaped yet. That was the biggest question that was permanently up in the air.

If he were in a normal prison, he would have flicked a hole in the concrete wall, kicked the iron bars off the garden level window, gnawed through the lock on the door. He would have cracked the skull of every ignorant human within a thirty foot radius of him, guard and prisoner alike.

But he hadn't. Not as far as we knew. And, if he had, Drew hadn't told us yet.

The only answer was that he was most certainly not in normal prison. He must've been detained in more solid quarters, ones that were not so easily broken out of, not so easily penetrated.

Drew had mistakenly mentioned where I could find him—yet I could have sworn that he looked right at me when he let it slip, as if he found it appropriate that I know and go to kill him….

But, no, I wouldn't be the one to kill Jeremy.

That would not be a fair exchange.

I had been there with him, in the yellowish darkness of the motel room, sat with my knees to my chest, in which was the loud thumping of my living, beating heart. I breathed in the stifling, musty air, listening as the rusty springs of the bed screeched as the moldy mattress moved on top of it, clenching my eyes shut in fear that I would never be able to relinquish ownership of such a memory after it was seared so violently into my brain. Just three and a half hours earlier, I had been invited to a party of Jeremy Lane's, a kid about whom all I knew was that he had been emancipated from his parents and lived in that big house over on Caraway Street…. And, between the time I arrived at that doorstep to that fateful hour at the lodge, Jeremy had decided that his own party had gotten too out of control and suddenly wanted to leave; he took Drew, Thomas, and I in his SUV to a rank bar downtown where cranky forty-year-old men spent most of their time and money; I had invited Ashley to meet me there and I lost my virginity to her in the men's bathroom; someone picked a fight with Thomas in the parking lot and Jeremy chewed at the man's neck until his head was no longer attached to the rest of his body; Jeremy admitted that he was not human, and, after that point, I chose not to remember the rest.

But, the aftermath of those later events have haunted me since the moment that they first occurred.

Drew and Thomas were bitten and left for dead behind the motel, Jeremy raped and mutilated Ashley as I watched helplessly with no more than a pocketknife as defense, and I had no choice but to wait for my turn.

Jeremy had lifted himself off of Ashley's remains, only his silhouette visible to me with the minimal light, and glided off the bed and—it was so dark—perhaps he had even decided to hide underneath it for a little while. He listened to my sobs until the smell of hardening blood was too much for him to stand and he clumsily crawled back to the mattress, cleaning off her limbs until she was nothing but spotless skin, bone, and fat. And, then, he decided, since he had made and killed the only friends he had in one night, that he should not kill me, but change me, instead…

And that was why this cruelty had to end. He had not killed me, but it was as if he had. Drew, despite Jeremy's clear position of control that night, had become a leader among us and had instructed that I not seek revenge. We had all moved away together after Jeremy's reinforcements killed our families so that we had no reason to stay and we found a small town house in a city a hundred miles away. Our coven was formed. Jeremy dropped his persona as a rich, emancipated teenager and decided that a gang was a more suitable image for us to uphold. Four more were added to our numbers and one was lost to an enemy coven. I had killed a total of thirty-seven people. And Jeremy was arrested for eighty-three accounts of murder, forty-six accounts of rape, eleven accounts of robbery, nine accounts of arson, and, though it seems inappropriate for me to include such a thing among a formidable list, one speeding ticket.

And, now, as I neared the place where he was being held, the only thing keeping me sane was the reiteration of my plan in my head: I would help Jeremy escape, I would take him to Italy, and I would watch the Volturi kill him. Simple as that.

Yes, this would be a fair exchange for all that he had done to me. A truly fair and fitting exchange.

It was a struggle to get Jeremy into Volterra quietly. Considering he was stronger than me, tenfold. But I had planned ahead for such resistance and had been able to saw off his left arm and right foot with my teeth (not an easy feat, in itself), so that clawing or escaping would be a difficult task for him. I carried his limbs in a sack on my back and dragged him through the sewers of the old city—I found it difficult to believe that the police would not confront me if I was caught dragging a partly dismembered vampire through the civil streets. The only way to keep him quiet was physical pain; although, the more I tortured him, the more tempting it was to put a flame to him and end it myself.

But I knew that I could not do that. I did not want to be a murderer…

…Though it may have been too late to sustain such a desire.

Aro would finish the job for me. Cleanly and inconspicuously.

I had heard of this Italian coven only once. Jeremy knew them through his sister, Louise, whom he had not seen for several decades until just a few months ago. Last we all had seen of her, she had gained an indispensible role among the Volturi's numbers, what with her mysterious gift. I never fully grasped the entirety of it—which Drew and I later discovered was Jeremy's doing; he did not want us to take a liking to his sister, to have any longing to adopt her to our own coven. He wanted no ties with her.

I imagined her reaction that would take place only a few minutes from that very moment. When I would drag her demented, broken brother in and hand him over to be killed. Would she be terrified? Infuriated? From past evidence, I could only picture her indifference, her hardheartedness. Once any wrongdoer was dragged into the Volturi's the court, it did not matter the relation—Jeremy would be just as deserving and rewarded as the rest.

"I'll kill you, you bastard!" Jeremy screeched, his voice hoarse and wild.

I glanced back at him and, with one quick movement, I lifted him from the ground, gripped both hands around his ankle, and slammed him into the cobblestone wall of the sewer, sending a detrimental crack down the façade. He groaned and hissed and then fell silent for a long moment.

"Don't worry, Lane," I comforted him contemptuously. "We're almost there. Not much longer yet."

"I'll kill you, Jack," he whispered, dropping his head so that it dragged across the puddled floor and bounced painfully over each depression and protrusion in the rock. I assumed then that he had accepted his consequences.

Ahead, I could see the aged, iron cast elevator. Not much longer yet. Almost there, I thought.

Jeremy salvaged some of his spirit once I shoved open the doors, rolling over onto his stomach and latching his fingers into the floor. He did not seem anguished, as I would have expected, but, instead, he concentrated all of his effort and faith on his strength, clenching his teeth and sealing his lips tight. I yanked him in vain towards the elevator—he was too much stronger than me for me to even dream of getting him upstairs on account of my own power. So, as an alternative, I released my hold on him and fell to the floor myself, lodging my teeth into his calf and tearing until his right leg was severed up to the knee. He yelled in agony and reflexively brought his hands to the site of injury. In the little time I had, I jumped to my feet and heaved him into the elevator.

He curled up against the wall much like a dying animal and I kept as much distance from him as I could in the small space. There was only a single functioning button on the wall and the plastic face cracked under the unintentional force of my fingertip. There was no denying that I was nervous; my plan did not extend very far beyond Jeremy's death. What would the Volturi do after the deed was done? Invite me to join them? Keep me captive just for the fun of it?

…Would they kill me?

I truly did not want to linger on the thought very long. Whatever happened, I reassured myself that saving my own skin was of top priority. And, even if I was taken hostage for whatever reason, Drew would come and rescue me. He had to.

I was startled by the spine-tingling trill of the elevator door as it screeched open to reveal a long, fire-lit corridor. Not much longer yet. Just down this hall.

Jeremy's inert body seemed to gain ten pounds with every step I took; by the time I reached the gargantuan wooden doors, he must've weighed a ton. There was complete silence all around me, but I could almost feel their presence in the air—they must've been waiting, they must've known I was coming. Louise would have told them. I was met by the silence of their anticipation, of their curiosity. Some thirty of the most dangerous creatures known to this planet were only a few steps away…

They would be the answer to my dilemma. They were the resolution.

Jeremy had stopped breathing, closing off all access air had to his lungs by bringing his hand to his face. His eyes narrowed at the ceiling, as if he were hopelessly confused by something…

He was listening for them.

I took a deep breath, ignoring him as he scowled at me for interrupting the silence which he was attempting to analyze, and pushed open the creaking old doors…

My hands grew stiff as I released Jeremy from my grasp, flinching at the sound of his legs falling to the floor with a bang. I took a few clumsy steps forward, my footsteps loud and graceless on the glossy marble floor. My shoulders slouched, and I let the sack of Jeremy's limbs drag behind me until I finally had no more strength—not even in my fingers—and let it slump in a heap behind me as I continued forward to the three grand thrones at the end of the room. My eyes scanned every inch of the room, examining the walls with such scrutiny that it was almost as if I expected to see something of use to me etched into them; I followed the dusty beams of light to an undeterminable source; and, finally, once I reached the step that differentiated the three most powerful vampires from those below them, I felt a falling sensation rush from my jaw through to my shoulders, down through my torso and, at last, the bottom of my feet. At last, I fell to my knees.

"My God," I mumbled under my breath, my tonality shaky and unrecognizable. "Oh, my God. Oh"—the word was long and drawn out—"no, no, God, no..." I brought my forehead to the cold floor, attempting to control the clammy sweat that broke out along the nape of my neck and my brow.

I brought my head up and examined the invisible faces that I imagined to be there, my eyes lingering on each throne that sat…empty…before me. My exasperated sigh was amplified around the vacant room, bouncing from wall to wall until the sound returned back to me—and I had to sigh again when I heard it…out of terror and dread.

"What am I going to do?" I whispered quietly, bringing my hands to my face. The expectation of an answer that I knew would not come possessed me…and I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

My ears caught subtle, almost inaudible scratching sound on the floor behind me, followed by the squeak of something rubbing across the stone floor. I lifted my head from my hands and peeked over my shoulder, surprised to find Jeremy directly behind me, clawing for my legs as I reflexively jumped up onto the throne. My paranoia suddenly became unfathomably overwhelming and I found myself screaming as the middle throne that I had leaped onto fall back. The thunderous crash of the wood hitting the floor seemed to echo so ominously it were as if just touching this sacred object released a curse into the air.

"I'm going to kill you!" Jeremy roared, clasping my foot and pulling me down to his level.

I frantically grabbed him by the head, tugging and tugging until a small crack began to span the length of his jaw. In sudden panic, he released me and I darted for the door.

"I'll kill you, you little wretch!"

My graceful, cold fingers atypically fumbled on the latch at the door. When I felt his hands on my calves, I pushed and shoved so that the massive gate splintered and collapsed. The elevator was in my sights, I was almost safely away, but, even with his limbs strapped to my back, he caught up. His jagged teeth lodged into my ankle and my knees buckled at the sensation of pain rocketing through my body. As he began to gnaw away at my right leg, I tried desperately to review my mistakes: where on earth had I gone wrong!? In my moment of cold, schizophrenic terror, I remembered that it was not of my own doing that my flawless plan had failed.

The Volturi were gone. And I would never discover where it was they had gone to.