Boston, MA, 1897

Maxwell Andersen strolled up to his front door, a large smile on his face. Through the window, he could see his wife, Mary, laying out dinner. They had been married over two decades now, and he still loved her just as much as he once had. As he walked in, his daughter Sally greeted him with a hug and took his briefcase. He kissed the teenager on her head, and said, "Thank you, sweetheart. How was your day?" Sally began speaking of her activities, mainly the things she'd done to help her mother. The home was warm from the fire built up in the fireplace, which his son John was stoking. Two of his sons, Robert and Joseph, had returned from college for the Thanksgiving holiday. Tomorrow would be Max's final day at the bank until Monday. His youngest son, Timothy, was only twelve, and busy finishing up schoolwork for the evening. He grinned up at his father from his books, as Max greeted Mary and his eldest sons, whom he hadn't seen in a few months.

As the family sat down at the table, it struck Max how wonderful his life was. He had a beautiful wife, bright, well-behaved children, and a lovely home. He enjoyed his job as the manager of his small bank. Max wasn't one to be ungrateful for what he had. Max Andersen had a perfect life. He was obliviously to the fact that this time tomorrow, it would be over as he knew it.

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The next evening, Max locked the doors to the bank and set off on the walk home. He'd been there much longer than he'd expected, as many customers had rushed to make sure they had everything they needed in order for the next four days. Far worse than any Friday, Max thought with a chuckle. It hadn't troubled him too much. Max had an upbeat disposition, and he was looking forward to spending the holiday with his entire family. Nothing could affect his good mood at that.

By now, the sky had grown dark, and stars were starting to shine. Despite the late hour, the streets were still fairly busy with people milling about. Which may have been why Max didn't pay much mind to his surroundings. It may have been why he didn't see the man staggering quickly behind him. This was probably the reason he was shocked when he felt himself grabbed from behind and pulled into the dark doorway he was walking by. Max startled, and tried to pull of the hand around his throat. The man holding him was too strong, too desperate. Max gasped as he felt something tearing into his neck. He tried to call out, only to have his cries muffled by the man. Max continued to try to struggle as the world went dark around him.

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Max awoke hours later, surprised to find the man still there. He looked forlorn and distraught. A strange taste was in Max's mouth as he tried to right himself. He felt his injured neck, surprised to find that it was unharmed. "I'm sorry," the man whispered, not looking at Max. Max didn't say anything, just tried to move slowly away from the perpetrator. "What do you want? My wallet?" Max asked him. The man shook his head sadly. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it," the man told him. Max was still trying to draw away so that he could run. "It is fine," Max said, trying to placate him. He didn't know if the man was dangerous. "No harm done. We'll just each go on our way, and forget this ever happened," Max assured him. In fact, Max was planning to run as fast as he could to the police. The man laughed softly, as if he didn't find it truly humorous. "I can't forget. You won't be able to forget. Not when it happens to you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just couldn't let you die... and now I think this might be worse."

Max drew his brows together in confusion. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked. The man sighed. "If you don't feed, it takes over. Then you kill, whether you want to or not. I thought making you the same as me would make it... I don't know. But to be like this, to be a monster... I should have let you die."

Concerned now more than ever, Max said to him, "I'm fine. I assure you, I feel quite well. Perhaps there's someone you might call, though? Maybe go to a hospital?" It was obvious the man was not well, especially when he said, "No hospital can save a vampire." Now, Max was frightened. This man was truly unstable. The man laughed again when he saw Max's face. He said to Max, "You don't believe me. I can't say I'm surprised; I wouldn't believe it either. Not when the sunlight hurt my eyes, not when I could smell the blood of the living. It wasn't until now that I truly realized it. You'll see it too. Eventually, the hunger will take over, and you'll feed."

Max rose fully to his feet, and back away swiftly. He wasn't staying near this person any longer. The man sighed and said, "Believe me, you can't escape." He stepped forward from the shadows, and Max saw the most horrific thing he'd seen in his entire life. The man's face was distorted, his eyes an eerie yellow. His teeth were long and sharp. With a gasp, Max turned and ran as fast as he could, until he burst into the doors of his own home.

When he entered, he found Mary, Sally, and Timothy gathered in the front room. They jumped up and ran to him. "Where have you been?" cried Mary, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Your sons are out combing the streets for you!" Sally and Mary had obviously been crying, and it looked as though Timothy had tried not to but failed. Max held them all closely and said, "I'm not sure. I just woke up in a doorway. I... I think maybe I was mugged, possibly." He wasn't going to try to explain what had happened. He was concerned he was losing his mind. Sally and Mary doted over him, making sure he was fit. His other boys returned within the next two hours, each relieved to find him there. Max went off to bed that night with no less confusion then he had felt before.

Thanksgiving proved to be a chore for Max. He seemed to have caught a bug of some sort, possibly from being out in the cold so long. He wasn't able to keep any food down. This didn't change the fact that he was starving, and kept complaining that he smelled something delicious. Mary doted over him, trying to make him feel better. Unfortunately, Max's conditioned worsened. He was weak throughout the day, and active at night. The doctor didn't know what was wrong with him. Max was suspicious, but refused to give into his fears. It wasn't until one night, when he found Tim asleep near the fire, did Max finally realize what had happened. Max was consumed with an urge he'd never felt so strongly. His face tingled, and Max caught his fading reflection in a mirror, finding that he looked just like the man who'd attacked him. With a low cry, Max collapsed into a chair and began to cry softly. The man's warnings replayed over and over in his mind. He'd wanted to kill his own boy... God only knew what was going to happen. Quietly, as to not wake Mary, Max packed a suitcase of belongings, then went down to his library. He sat at his desk and began to write.

My dearest Mary, love of my life, and my beautiful children,

By now, it must be quite evident to all of you that I am not well. I do not want to hurt you, but you must know that this is not a passing illness. In fact, I've been informed that my time on this earth is limited. I do understand that by the nature of my illness, I will continue to deteriorate before this is over. Watching me waste away is a fate I would never wish upon any of you. I would have you all remember your loving husband and father, not a monster.

To my boys, I say to you: Never could a father be more proud of his sons. Each one of you is more intelligent and more a model of what a man should be than I could have ever dreamed. It pains me more than I can say that I will not be able to see you all grow, to marry and have children of your own.

To my sweet daughter, Sally, a more beautiful and bright girl I have never seen. Be careful of gentlemen, my girl, and trust your instincts. I know that someday you will be as fine a wife and mother as your own mother.

And to my Mary. My love, words cannot express how much I love you and always will. I have loved you from the moment I first saw you, and if possible, even more today. I want you to be happy, Mary, and there is no way to apologize for having to leave you so soon. I wish I knew words to tell you of my love, but never have words been spoken that are adequate enough. Never could I regret a single day in my life that you were a part of.

My wish is for each of you to remember the father who loved you, who played with you as children, who thought you the most brilliant children in this world. My wish is that you, Mary, remember the man who loved you so, whom you gave such beautiful children, whose life was complete when you came into it.

Remember me as I were. I will love each and every one of you from the day you each came into this world, from now, until the end of all time. Be happy, and always have joy in your lives. I love you all.

Sincerely,

Your Loving Husband and Father,

Maxwell

As Max finished writing the words, his heart seemed to burst inside his chest. Max knew at that moment that if it were truly possible to die of grief, his life would have ended right there. What he had become had forced him to give up his family. As he walked out into the night, Max thought of how horrible his future would be without his loved ones with him any longer.

AN: Right now, I have a question for my readers. Is anyone out there interested in a sequel to my original fic, The Lost Girls? Obviously, these characters and their stories are my baby, LOL. Also, if interested in a sequel, I'd also like to know what you want to see in it. Shea and Gabriel together at the end, or forever unable to be? If you want them together, do you prefer a miraculous de-vamping of Shea, or would you like to see the BOTH of them as vampires? Many different ideas, but not sure which way to go. Please provide feedback!