I Am A Vampire; You Would Dare To Question?

A/N: This is my first Being Human fic! Yay! It's just a one-shot set before the series, and it's about Mitchell pondering on the world and his race, and how they fit together. God, Satan and some Shakespeare, was there ever a better cocktail? My grammar probably sucks, but I don't mind. This took me a few minutes one late night. This late night :D Got the idea for it in the shower :S Strange little fact for you. Okay, I'll stop ranting. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! x

A wise man once said, 'All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players'. Those words were never truer then that night I watched on the Sitis Pro Cruor Annual ball. That's Thrist for Blood Ball for all those fluent in Latin. If that's possible.

The humans are dripping in their silk garments, flowing dresses and tonnes and tonnes of gold. Pure luxury is one way to describe them. So naïve it's pathetic. They laugh, throwing back glass after glass as they dance unsuspectingly with vampires, ignoring the murderous glint in their partners' eyes on the ballroom floor. The vampires smile, hypnotizing them, and lusting over the thick scarlet beads that run through their veins, so close to their hands. The smell in intoxicating.

We are but dancers on a dancefloor, it would seem. The words flow through my mind, and without warning, I begin to think about those words. Repeating the, twisting them around and resetting their place in the sentences. The humans are the dancers on their world, while my race are the strangers that do not belong. Or do we?

If we're all puppets in this show, then who is the puppeteer? My ego would jump to a quick conclusion, one so simple that it must be wrong. Vampires are the puppeteers. Compared to humans, we are so much stronger. Physically, mentally and emotionally. We can kill a million victims with our strength, while we have the ability to overcome the pain of the guilt while we can do it without leaving a trace of ourselves. Like we were never there.

But, alas, vampires it cannot be. It takes two to tango, one to lead and one to follow. My race are the former. Therefore, the mind would go to the next understandable conclusion. God. Gods? No one knows, so, let us pretend. Imagine that there is a God, and that he is the puppeteer to life. Who do you blame when a mother kills her baby? Who do you blame when a man rapes a teenage girl? Who do you blame when a boy commits suicide? Not God.

The almighty lord is meant to be a creature of innocence and mercy. Not of evil and injustice. So, then we get our next question. If it is not God, then who is that people blame? Another easy answer.

Satan.

For there to be a creature such a God, who is pure goodness, then there should be a second creature to balance out the good with pure badness, correct? Even if it is just the other side to God's personality that calls himself the Devil, then, so be it. Being a vampire, I believe in Satan as easily as werewolves. What else could create a vampire?

This is where you roll your eyes and moan that I found a way to bring this to myself, but hear me out. Being a creature that lives off the life of others and feels no shame, I cannot help but reflect sometimes. We are given a life that will never end – an invitation to see eternity – and the power to stand on others to get there. A gift, some would say. A gift some would die for. You can return a gift. This is a curse. If you take it willingly, then I suppose the curse had yet to fall through, like a tablet with a sugar coating. When that dissolves, the hell is just as hot as it is for the ones who didn't chose their fate.

Does that make us Satan's minions? Oh, such a harsh word. His pets? Little creations he thought he'd throw into the story to spice it up a bit?

The history of vampires goes far back. Or, so we assume. You see, somewhere along the way, the story was never passed on and the father to us all would have asked this very question. What was his purpose? Our family tree was never passed on, and our history fell though the sieve of time. Lost ever since. We could be some sort of evolution, although, I doubt it. Maybe a virus? It is passed through the blood, like some sort of venom. I wouldn't be surprised if we were a science experiment gone wrong.

Or did it go right?

Ironically, only God knows. These questions may have been posed before, but, they still had no answers. The thing is, when is comes to vampires, we are the stuff of myth. Of sick fairytales. Of nightmares. Of sadly accurate Hollywood films. No one believes in vampires.

Even as the music cuts short, and the dancing stopped, the humans didn't have alarm bells screaming, 'Vampires!' When fangs sunk into their skin and their souls were drained from within them with their blood, they wouldn't have thought we were vampires. Murderous psychopaths, probably. Some sort of horrific cult, most definitely. But vampires? Of course not.

I turn to look at a paralyzed woman, her glass shattering in her hand as the blood drains from her face. Her racing heartbeat is a melody that sings to me. I grin, my fangs growing spontaneously and the inky blackness of my heart filling my eyes. She gasps, and I pounce.

There's no such thing as vampires? Question, not fact. Well, let them carry on thinking that. After all, they're just actors. I'm sure they have understudies.