Chapter 1:
Author's Note: This is my first fanfic ever. Sorry if there's a couple of grammatical and spelling mistakes. Enjoy. Also, please review, especially with constructive criticism. Thanks. :)
Oh and this is set after Last Sacrifice. This is from a girl Strigoi's point of view...
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy.
I'm 19 years old but I've lived 313 years.
Three centuries. And three lifetimes, give or take.
I've seen life enter this world, and also death conquer the remnants of a soul. I've witnessed indescribable joy, but also incomprehensible cruelty. I'm devastated to admit I've killed innocents, simply out of boredom and need. But I've also saved countless lives from the grasp of evil. It doesn't make me an angel, but I'm definitely not the devil. I've both experienced and lived every action and emotion that dwell in this world, except love.
I've been unable to love for so long, it's a foreign concept to me. The dictionary defines love as "an intense feeling of deep affection." But how can I understand what love is when I've never even felt affection?
You see, my current state disables my ability to love. I'm far from proud to announce I'm a Strigoi, a supposedly heartless killing machine always scheming for ways to take over the world. Yes I'm a vampire and I drink blood from Moroi, dhampirs, and the occasional human. I kill my meals. You could say I'm an abomination, a creation gone wrong.
I was once a Moroi born from a prestigious family. I was an innocent little girl, one who had hardly seen the world, much less been exposed to its dark secrets and twisted truths. I had a satisfying life planned ahead. But I could've never foreseen my turning into this undead dead state.
On one forebidding night, I was preyed upon by one of those creatures. I had ditched my guardians as I had simply wanted a night of fun. Wandering around the deserted alleys with my best friend, I realized too late the danger. Two Strigoi rushed upon us. Without our guardians, we were defenseless. One of the Strigoi bit me and I was lost in the ectasy of the bite. He drank, and my grasp on consciousness slowly faded. My last moment as a Moroi was glimpsing my best friend suffering the same fate as me. Then, my eyes closed of their own consent.
I woke up hours later to the sounds of a forest. My senses were enhanced and I discovered another side of the night. The darkest shadows held no mystery. The tallest trees were easily climbable. The night wasn't the same anymore, and neither was I. The Strigoi who changed me was named Jake. He taught me the ropes of this world. Power was earned through bloodshed and was easily transferred. Strength meant everything. Mercy was nonexistent, and showing mercy signaled weakness. Jake was my cane, until I grew tired of him and killed him.
There is a specific person I originally wanted as my partner in crime in this life, just like in my last life. I combed the world for that someone, looked under every rock and leaf. I even dispatched some of my followers to search for them. It was all to no avail. Either the one I was hunting for was an expert hider, or they simply didn't live in this world anymore. I got over my disappointment. I didn't miss that person, for Strigoi were incapable of love, and you can't miss someone if you didn't care for them. I had simply wanted the person to help and share with me in my conquest. That never happened, as I never saw my best friend again.
I've always been different, one of a kind, even after I was awakened into this horrid state. People say Strigoi are unable to change. They must always kill and never experience any good feelings. Beauty is lost to them, and with beauty, happiness, and the ability to love. They're stuck being soulless monsters ready to tip the universal balanced scale between good and bad. I've proven those people wrong.
Over the course of my ridiculously long lifetime, I've slowly began to gain my soul back. I don't know how it was possible, but I did. Slowly, I began to open my eyes for the first time in a long while and glimpse the beauty that surrounds me. I was oblivious to its breathtaking sight, but now I am no longer. I've recaptured a tiny fraction of my soul, enough to see the errors of my ways and the destruction I've left in my wake. I'm filled with remorse of my actions and the lives they cost. I know I couldn't control the Strigoi part of me from bearing its ugly teeth, actually, fangs, but I still hate myself for what I've done. I've ceased to kill my meal, merely take enough blood to sustain me and let the person go. Sometimes, rarely, I can even catch a fleeting glimpse of what happiness feels like. But the one emotion lost to me is love.
I'm tired of living, of life and its endless, monotone cycle. No longer do I want to murder out of cold blood. I question life and why I'm cannot love. Words cannot express how much I despise being a Strigoi. I hate having all those good emotions being constantly kept just out of my reach. I want life to be more than what I have.
I want to truly live.