Hey, so...here's a new story - I'll only continue it if people actually like it lols...hopefully you do because I quite liked writing this chapter. My other story 'All I See is You...' will have one more chapter if you were reading that and then I'll start working on the sequeal.

Please, if you read this, place a review in - it seriously does help with the putting up of chapters sooners...no jokes. :)

Thanks!

Hope you all enjoy! :)

Sparkz

Chapter 1
Death Shall Hath No Dominion

Hi, my name is Lillian Truscott and six hundred years ago I died. It wasn't planned or anything – I had everything to live for but, just like the majority of deaths, it came surprisingly. I can't say it was painless because it was. It wasn't as the story-books leave you to believe; death wasn't kind. Death was harsh and cold. There wasn't heat. You can't feel when your hearts stopped – everything slows down. Movement becomes difficult; straining even. Just a step and your body seizes up. There was nothing there. No light, no heat...nothing.

Death wasn't your friend – it never could be. It took you away from everything you had ever learnt to love; everything you aspired to be. It was dark and dank. It rotted your flesh; left you in the ground alone. Everything was alone. There weren't friends in death. There wasn't family. There wasn't anything familiar. It was all new. It was all scary.

The funny thing about death is that it's inevitable – everyone dies one way or another. We can pretend to live a life free from the fear of death but we're never free from death itself. It creeps up on us sooner than we think and leaves us grasping for another chance. I should know – I'm dead. I've been through the fear, acceptance and finality of death and it isn't fun. I can always feel the grief I've caused the people that I loved. It seems to constantly waver in the air around me; intoxicating.

Every now and then I feel someone visit my grave – I imagine them placing flowers next to the headstone. 'Lillian Truscott – loved for her originality, missed for her heart.' Just a dream among the dead. I always used to wonder about life after death – if people ever did anything worthwhile. If souls just floated out-of-sight; watching our every move. If ancestors still breathed the air we breathed, only in a differed plane. I wondered about death but I didn't want it. I had a life to live and friends to love.

My life was planned from the beginning – marry rich and live out a life of luxury. My parents...they were what they were. They were there when I needed them. They were the ideal parents of any young girl. A house cemented in love – a home.

I was seventeen when I died. I was young. I had yet to learn everything that there was to learn about life. My life was cut short and I was left grasping for another chance. I just wanted to say goodbye to everyone. I just wanted one more hug from my family – one more game with my friends. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to be buried in the ground. I didn't want my flesh to rot away with time. I didn't want anything to do with death. I just wanted my family. I just wanted air. I just wanted to feel the beat of my heart again. I just wanted to feel the sun on my skin. I just wanted to feel.

Death isn't fickle. It doesn't bend – they are no rules. It's like time; forever there and unchanging. Nothing can stop death. No amount of avoidance could deter death. It was forever there – ticking away. You couldn't outrun death. Its pace was un-matched. Whether you were old or young...moral or immoral – death was there. It would creep ever closer with each passing day; seeking out its next victim. I hate it. I hate the terror of humanity of such a thing.

Death wasn't to be feared, no, death was to be accepted. The sooner humanity accepted the factor of death – the sooner peace would arrive. You could die today or tomorrow or in the next ten years. It was funny that way; unpredictable, striking at the most surprising moments.



My death wasn't an accident; no, it was planned. The sharp word of tongue, the flicker of canine teeth. I was made into something that I had no word for. My senses were heightened, my strength increased – I was modified. When death came, I sunk gratefully into its embrace but, it didn't last. It used to only be a story but now it is reality. Instead of rotting flesh, I got an insatiable hunger – a fierce wickedness. Instead of loneliness, I got a different kind of family.

The funny thing about death is...it was only the beginning for me.

Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest,
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Let thy sound my death tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.

My pains who can express?
Alas, they are so strong;
My dolour will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Let thy sound my death tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.

Alone in prison strong
I wait my destiny.
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Should taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Let thy sound my death tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.

Farewell, my pleasures past,
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torments so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell;
Rung is my doleful knell;
For the sound my death doth tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.

 - Anne Boleyn

She landed effortlessly – wisps of hair hanging in the wind. Her eyes were lighted blue; brilliantly standing out in the dark night. She crouches slowly, blending into the shadows of the night. Tilting her head gently, she scans the crowd. Gazing at the crowd, her blood begins to pump. Her fingers clench tightly; gripping the rooftop fiercely. "You're getting slow..." she murmured softly, feeling another presence beside her. She swayed with the wind, her body moving along with the shadows.

"No...You're getting slack," he retorted, sending a fierce glare her way. He didn't care how much she thought she knew, she didn't know everything. He was still her elder and she had to respect that. He was still the one that people answered too.

"There's no such thing," she replied flippantly, her gaze trained on the humanity below her. She was amazed by the change that time ensued. So many things were different from the past. Lights became brighter, words became colder – humans were pulling away from each other. People turned away and that was where they came in. The one's left behind were free for the taking.

His gaze settled on her – studying her movements. Her dark-denim jean clung seductively to her legs, covered only by her black knee-high boots. Her top was sheer and white, not even hiding the bright-pink bra underneath. She wore one necklace; long and silver – glittering in the light. He remembered that. It was off her first victim; a token of her life ahead. He sighed in exhaustion, "Why are we here?" His eyes had averted to the raucous below them.

"The house is cramped Lancastor. You and I both know how William gets when they get in contact with us," she shrugged, licking her suddenly dry lips. She could feel the hearts beating beneath her – hear the blood rushing through their veins. Her fingers only tightened around the ledge; the metal creaking under her strength.

"Careful Lillian," Lancastor snapped, his eyes narrowing as a human gazed up towards them. He knew they couldn't be seen. Human eye-sight and shadows never worked well together.

"Relax Lance...feel the music..." Lillian hummed, arching her back erotically; biting her lip as she gazed at him. She could see the lust hidden in his gaze and she grinned. She loved the power she held over him. Her body straightened, leaning over the ledge ever-so-slightly. With one last glance over her shoulder at Lancastor, she grinned cheekily, "Live alittle."

"Lillian!" he snapped, feebly reaching out to her as she jumped into the ground – gracefully landing on her two feet. He hated how she just left him wanting, waiting for something to happen. She had been dead for just over six-hundred years and yet she had never lost her playful side. She was always up for alittle harmless flirting. No one could hold her down. She controlled her own life.

'Catch me if you can Lancastor...' her voice echoed in his head, her form blending intimately with the bustling humans. He had never wanted to strangle the girl more than he had now, but he only smiled. She was always fascinated with the game of cat-and-mouse between people and he let her indulge in her curiosity. He could never say no to the blonde. She had him wrapped around her finger and they both knew it. Sighing, he gracefully fell the five-storey drop below him; crouching low. He'd play her game for now.

She laughed, really laughed, enjoying the cold air. She loved running, enjoying the cold night. Nothing competed with brushing through humanity – ever-so-gently brushing against something so fragile; life. Living, breathing life. It always fascinated her. People exhausted themselves to the extent of death and yet, some just breezed through. Hardly anyone stood still just to feel and she missed that. Everything was slower in her world – nothing moved at a faster pace. Movement was slow, her senses extremely heightened.

Testing herself, she closed her eyes – darting between the billions of people. The noise was loud – their voices continuously chattering. It was intoxicating; the mix of life and death. Her speed picked up. She squeezed her eyes even tighter, pleading for a respite. The air was rushing past her, passing people who turned to stare – she knew she had to slow it down. She was moving unnaturally.

Her feet stopped suddenly, her world titling. She had hit something; rebounding off of it and landing on her ass. Grumbling slightly, she opened her eyes to meet another pair. Worry filled the young mans gaze as he offered her a hand.

"I'm so sorry, I seriously didn't see you," he smiled, flinching slightly at the coolness of her hand.

"It's fine...I'm a klutz anyway, so, don't worry about it," she brushed off, rubbing her sore bottom gently. She stepped back slightly, her pupils dilating. She didn't want to scare the boy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he questioned, stepping closer to the blonde. She looked as if she was in pain and he couldn't help himself. He didn't want to be the reason as to why she was hurt.

"It's okay...really," she nodded, standing up straight. Her eyes trailed over his form; skimming over the unnecessary. All she cared about was the eyes – you could see everything through the eyes. His were brown, flecked with hazel. She could see confusion settle deep within his gaze and she tilted her head in her own confusion.

"Your not...you don't know who I am do?" he asked, shock lacing his tone. His eyes darted between hers and the crowd around them – he needed to get out of the public place.

"Should I?" She cocked an eye-brow, shifting from one foot to the other. She had to start moving again or else Lancastor would catch her. She had to make him atleast work for it.

"Joseph Jonas," he stated, extending his hand towards her. It was a rare thing to come across someone who didn't know who he was and he liked that. She was completely oblivious to his celebrity status and it was refreshing. He didn't have to pretend around her.

Her eyes widened, but not at his name. Lancastor was close and she needed to leave. She sent the boy a small smile and nod, before turning and sprinting away. She didn't turn around to look because she knew he was still standing there – his hand extended. She didn't mean to be rude but she wanted to just get away from everything. 'Josephs' blood was calling to her and in time – they'd meet again. She'd make sure of that.

Okay, so if it wasn't clear...Lillys' a vampire lols. The rest will be explained in later chapters if anyone likes the story :)

Review!!

Sparks :)