Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Hi all! Thanks for clicking through! This is cross-posted on Twilighted, but I've had requests to post it here so people who aren't signed up over there can read it too. To those who are reading it for the first time, welcome!

What we have here is the prologue, written EPOV as a stream of consciousness--let me know if it's difficult to follow. Later chapters include both E and BPOV's, if that sweetens the deal for some of you. ;)

Stephenie Meyer owns these characters. I'm just borrowing them for a while. Enjoy!

EPOV

Ah yes, there they are. I can hear the leader's sadistic, maniacal laughter as he walks behind her. They're closing in on their prey now, but luckily, so am I.

"Hey, there you are!"

Slightly drunk. That sounded much more clear in the fearless leader's head. Maybe they're so drunk that they're stalking an inanimate object; I should be able to hear the victim. But no, they're herding whatever they're pursuing. I need to get closer—their hazy vision isn't helping matters.

"Stay away from me."

What's that voice? The victim. Their prey. A voice I've never heard before. Strange, to say the least. I can usually hear everyone around me, even if it's someone whose voice I am unfamiliar with. I'll have to be extra careful once I attack so as not to frighten her.

"Don't be like that, sugar."

There they are! Look at the smiles on their gruesome faces, like they've hit the jackpot. How revolting. And this poor, surprisingly silent girl, looking determined and ready to fight. What could she possibly be thinking? She would be no match for all of them. Little does she know, she's the actual jackpot winner tonight—there's no way she would make it out of this mess alive in any other circumstance.

I've seen it all before—the dark alleyway, the defenseless victim, the overconfident hunters—but no one in the scenario takes into account the vigilante monster, ready to pounce and turn the hunters into the hunted.

My throat burns, and they're closing in quickly. Time to strike.

Oh sweet relief! This was almost too easy, to growl ferociously, grab the leader and pull him into the shadows, to drain him… It's a good thing he didn't scream; it's better for the victims when they don't hear their predators shrieking in agony. That gets them really scared.

I can hear the others scampering away. They aren't so tough without their commander to fall behind.

There's a certain satisfaction that comes from killing this kind, and not just the physical liberation felt from drinking the blood that I'm meant to drink. But the peace of mind I have, knowing that in taking this life, I've spared another.

The girl…

The girl is… watching me.

This doe-eyed girl just watched me kill this man, and she's watching me still. Petrified, probably, and who could blame her? Sometimes I myself am disgusted with the life I lead. If I make my escape now, she'll probably think she hallucinated the whole thi—

Ohh! That scent. So… intoxicating. Oh, I must have her. I can feel the venom filling my mouth, ready to incapacitate her. Does she realize it yet?

No, she's still standing there, unaware that I've caught wind of her. Perfect. Perhaps she did not win the jackpot tonight after all. Perhaps the real winner in all of this is… me.

I can feel the smirk on my face, no doubt a thousand times more frightening than the one the dead man on the ground gave her not mere seconds ago. Her reflexes must be terrible; she's only now realizing that she should run. I can see it in her eyes.

Her eyes…

Such a deep chocolate brown. So unmistakably clear. I don't need to hear her thoughts, for I can see the fear in those eyes…

Wait—fear?

This innocent girl is afraid.

Afraid of me, and with good reason. Despite having glutted myself on a serial rapist, I still have every intention of feasting upon her.

… Don't I?

What's stopping me? She's right there! Her sweet blood is practically calling my name as it pumps rapidly through her heart—Edward, Edward, Edward—but those eyes. Those haunting eyes…

"Run."

Did I just say that? What is wrong with me? I can't possibly have that much moral fiber, not with blood that smells as delicious as hers. Ah, but there she goes, and here I still stand, paralyzed by the fearful expression on her face that is now burned into my memory. Her sweet scent still lingers in the air, although it's dissipating some. Taking another breath just to smell it again is like torture. Wonderful, glorious torture.

I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that girl, her aroma or her face. I don't quite know how I'll resolve that dilemma, knowing she's out there, smelling too good to stay alive…

What's this? Poor girl dropped her purse. Hmm, perhaps I won't have to forget her after all, for she's just provided me with everything I need to keep track of her. Keys, credit cards, driver's license…

Poor Miss… Miss Isabella Swan. Tonight is not the last night she will be hunted.