***I don't own Jasper, Maria, Nettie, or Lucy. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. Everybody else is mine...not that anyone else lasts very long in this chapter! Enjoy!***

Now, I had always considered myself to be a very strong man. When I was ten, I had fallen out of a tree and broken both wrists. I never cried nor complained during the long months it took for them to heal. When I was fourteen, I had gotten kicked in the chest by a horse and broken several ribs. I was stoic during the accident and recovery process. Even after being shot in the shoulder during the Battle of Shiloh in Tennessee, I never made a sound while the surgeon painfully dug the ball out of the muscle and sinew.

But this? I was convinced that the beautiful Mexican girl had killed me and I had been sent straight to Hell. There was no other explanation for the sheer torture I was feeling. It felt as if my entire body was engulfed in flames and there was nothing I could do to extinguish them. I could hear the occasional whimpers and groans escaping from my lips as the fire licked its way through my body.

In a sane part of my brain, I could understand why I had been sent to Hell. I had killed my fair share of Union soldiers, and I knew that it was going to catch up to me in the after life. But, another part of my brain protested, arguing that I had killed under orders. I never had the choice. It was kill or be killed in those battles. But, the first part reasoned, I chose to sign up for the war.

Eventually even the sane parts of my mind were consumed by the agony and I could think no more about anything but the pain. My hands were clenched so tightly I could feel my fingernails digging through the flesh; could feel the blood dripping out of them. As the inferno grew hotter in my torso, my back arched and I couldn't stop the screams from escaping.

Maybe I did deserve Hell, I thought. Who knows why some people are sent there. But I didn't understand what I possibly could have done to deserve this! I had never killed for the fun of it, only under orders. Why me? Why was I sentenced to this? No one deserved this kind of Hell! "I'm sorry," I whimpered painfully. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry." It sounded more like a hoarse whisper, but I had to try. I had to communicate with my tormenters so they would release me from this misery.

I was vaguely aware of my legs curling towards my chest as the fire consumed the nerves all the way down to my feet. That's odd, I thought. I could still feel my boots with their spurs. Did people in Hell still wear the clothes they were killed in? Now that I thought about it, I could also feel my gray pants pulling at my knees as my legs were bending.

I began focusing on outside distractions...anything to get away from the horrific agony my body was going through. I inhaled deeply, smelling cigar smoke and alcohol. Did people smoke and drink in Hell? I wondered. I could hear voices speaking, but was unable to focus on any of them. Some part of me noted the sounds of saloon music, but I couldn't quite get my brain around that either. Apparently Hell was just a giant saloon, with the added bonus of the severe pain and suffering.

I heard a door open and close gently. I was aware of two sets of footsteps come towards me. "Hmm, I have the feeling I'm going to like this one," I heard a tinkling voice speak.

"Easy Nettie," another sing-song voice joined. "This one's for Maria."

I could hear the petulant air in the response. "It's not fair, Lucy," she whined. "Why does Maria always get the pretty ones?"

I tried to argue that I, as a man, could never be considered pretty. Dashing, heroic, yes, but certainly not pretty! I would have chuckled over the pettiness in my thoughts if it hadn't been for the hellacious pain in the back of my throat. I was aware of the pain receding from my extremities and for that I was grateful. But my heart felt as if it was going to pound out of my chest and I just groaned and began praying for death...assuming I wasn't dead already. I sincerely hoped that I wasn't, since that would mean that perhaps after I did die, I would have a respite from the pain.

"His heart is failing," I heard one of the women comment. "We should get Maria."

The door opened and closed and I was once again alone in my agony. I wanted to call out to the women, to ask them to return so they could kill me and end this, but I was unable to find my voice. I gasped as my heart raced painfully and was suddenly still. Was I dead? Was this it? The pain was finally gone except for my throat. The flames were still flaring quite noticeably there. I slowly opened my eyes and was surprised to see I was lying on a bed in what looked to be a hotel room. That would explain the saloon music below.

I carefully flexed my arms and legs and was surprised at how easy the action was. I stood slowly, worried that the pain would come back if I moved too swiftly. I was standing upright the moment I thought of it. I frowned, looking around the room, confused as to what was going on. I took a deep breath and was surprised to smell...well...everything! I could smell the cigar smoke and alcohol downstairs as well as the dust and horses outside. I smelled the previous occupants of this room, the smell of sweat and sex.

And the noises! I could hear people laughing and talking downstairs as well as outside. I could even hear specific conversations being held by gentlemen out in the street! I started to walk towards the window to see outside, but was stopped as I walked by the mirror. Startled, I spun around to face it. Mouth open, I gazed at my reflection, so much the same and yet completely different. I plowed my hand through my hair. That hadn't changed; it was still blond and curly. But my skin was pale white and perfect in its complexion. But the biggest change was my eyes! Before they were a brilliant sky blue but now? Now they were a dark blood red and they stared back at me as if they belonged to somebody else. I reached a hand out and gently touched my reflection. At least, I thought it was gently, but before I could think, the mirror shattered in front of me. I pulled my hand back, afraid that I might have been cut, but the skin there was just as perfect as it was before.

I glanced down at myself and was comforted by the fact that I was still wearing my uniform, minus the hat. "What's going on?" I asked aloud and was startled at the clarity of my voice. It was much deeper and smoother than before, almost as if I was singing bass in a church choir.

I heard footsteps outside the door and whirled around as a smell hit me like a gunshot. The flames in my throat flared immediately and my mouth filled with fluid. I didn't know what was behind that door and I didn't care. All I knew was that I had to have it and I wasn't concerned as to how. As if in response to my need, the door opened and something was shoved through the opening. I was completely unaware of my actions as I fell upon the pile of rags.

My hands sought what, I did not know, nor did I particularly care. Whatever this was, I needed it more than anything I have ever needed before. I was like a starving man with a steak; a man dying of thirst coming upon a cool stream. I sank my teeth into the rags and sighed in ecstasy as the warm fluid flooded my mouth. I groaned and sucked harder, gasping as the moisture soothed the raw flames in my throat. I clutched the rags closer to me, ignoring the snapping sounds as I crumpled it closer. Every amazing sensation I had ever felt before, a great meal, good drink, a touch of a beautiful woman, everything was forgotten as I continued to drink.

All too soon, no more liquid came from this strange flask and grunting in frustration, I pushed it away. The rawness returned to my throat, but it wasn't as painful, not quite as agonizing. A little more focused now, I glanced down at the strange pile of rags. My eyes widened as I realized what I had just done. Crouching down, I moved some of the rags and stared into a face. A woman's face. With a stab of agony, I realized that I had seen this face before. I had seen this face gaze into my eyes as she comforted her daughter on their way to Houston. Amelia was the girl's name. No, that was the name of the daughter. I never got this woman's name.

I dropped the cloths back down on her face and jumped to my feet. I looked down at her body and realized that the snapping sounds I had heard were her bones. Her bones! I held my hands in front of my face in horror. What had I just done? What had I become?

The door opened again, and I crouched down, ready to take on whatever enemy walked over the threshold. I was shocked as the three beautiful women from the night before glided into the room, kicking the dead woman out of the way.

"Good," the dark haired woman said, smiling down at the pile of clothes. "At least your appetite is strong."

I hissed instinctively. "What have you done to me?" I demanded, sinking deeper into the crouch. My eyes appraised the three women, and I was pleased to see the two blondes shrink back with fear. I was suddenly swept with my own feelings of fear. Startled, I pulled out of my crouch and tried to calm myself. I met the brunette's eyes, Maria, I believed was her name, and was shocked at how much more beautiful she appeared. And I noticed that her eyes, as well as Nettie and Lucy, had the same blood-red eyes as my own. "What is going on?" I asked, calmer this time.

Maria smiled smugly as she looked me up and down as if I were a horse that she was appraising. "I'm glad to see you are awake and eating well."

"Eating well?" I shouted, alarmed at my booming voice. "What have you done to me! I just killed that woman!"

Lucy and Nettie flinched again, but Maria stared into my eyes. "It's part of who you are now," she answered, matter-of-factly. She turned to Nettie. "Get rid of this body so he can concentrate on what I am telling him."

The girl obeyed, but I was surprised as a feeling of hatred rushed through me as she looked at Maria. She picked up the corpse and leaped out of the window. I watched in shock as she landed lightly on her feet and sprinted across the street toward the ocean. As I looked out the window, I was taken aback as I realized it was night time. How long was I out? I looked up at the moon and was amazed at how well I could see even without the light of the sun. I smiled as I leaned out the window, seeing each dark blade of grass rustling in the soft breeze.

The sound of a throat clearing caught my attention. I pulled my head back in the window and faced Maria and Lucy. Lucy had no expression on her face, but Maria looked impatient. "You need to pay attention, Major."

Major? I frowned as I tried to make sense of that title. Remembering suddenly, I looked down at my uniform again, realizing that Major was my rank in the Confederacy. I began feeling sudden frustration, but I wasn't sure why.

"I really wish newborns could pay attention," I heard Lucy sigh and I looked up to face them.

"Newborn?" I found myself asking.

Maria smiled, a rather patronizing smile at Lucy, and I found myself gritting my teeth in irritation. "He doesn't understand anything. Just give it time, Lucy. This one might be a keeper."

Another feeling of hatred swept over me, but I calmed it, still unsure of why. I didn't know these women, why would I hate them? Images of a dead woman's face filled my mind, but I couldn't quite remember who she was. My throat flared angrily as I remembered the feeling of her blood filling my mouth. I wanted more. I didn't care how or who, I just knew that in that moment I needed more.

"Maybe we should feed him again first," Lucy commented. "He is still thirsty. Actually, so am I."

Maria frowned. "I am feeling it too, even though we just fed not long ago." She pressed her lips together and tilted her head to study me. "Interesting."

"I will bring him more," Lucy spoke, exiting the room. Soon I was alone with Maria, and she approached me, walking around to analyze me from all sides. I inhaled her scent, appreciating the sensual aroma emanating from her as she pressed herself against me.

"W-what's going on?" I asked, closing my eyes as my breathing increased. I was aroused by the smell of her and I didn't understand why. "What are you doing?" She walked around behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I shivered, enjoying the feel of her.

"Interesting indeed," she purred and dropped her arms. She stepped back and my breathing returned to normal. As it slowed, I realized something strange. It didn't feel like I needed to breathe. I inhaled deeply, but it felt empty somehow. I inhaled again, confusion marring my handsome features.

Maria chuckled at the frown on my face. "Strange, isn't it?" she spoke. "If you would sit for a moment, I will explain everything to you."

My attention was brought back to the small Mexican girl, and I found myself obeying her. Even after all of this, it was still an instinct to follow the orders of a commanding officer. "What's going on?"

"Are you sure you are able to concentrate now?" she asked. At my nod, she continued. "I realize that this is very difficult for you to understand. As a newborn, your attention span is - shall we say - lacking, and it is hard for you to follow any one thing at a time. That will change as you grow older."

I forced myself to focus on her words, but it was difficult as the flames in my throat were growing stronger. "Why does my throat feel like it was on fire?" I asked.

Maria smiled. "Your body now craves blood. That and only that will soothe the ache in your throat, mi querido."

I frowned at the term of endearment. "Blood? So what am I? Some kind of monster?"

Maria chuckled, sitting on the bed next to me. "No, of course not," her tinkling voice laughed. "You are a vampire. Surely something as beautiful as you could never be called a monster!"

My eyes widened. " A vampire? Like in Polidori's* works?"

"You're well read," she responded.

"I get around."

"Well, then yes, just like his works. Anyway," she continued, "we aren't quite the horrific monsters like some of those stories. Have you not looked at yourself yet?" She glanced towards the broken mirror. "I can see that you have. Then you should know that we are like nothing else. We are like gods to these humans!"

"But we have to kill them to live? Like cattle?" I found myself asking. Surely this life couldn't be real?

"Doesn't everybody?" Maria answered. She nodded towards my uniform. "You, yourself have killed several times all in the name of war. Why should our killing for survival be any different?"

"Yes, but the men I killed would have killed me if I hadn't done anything. It's me versus them!"

"Do you think humans wouldn't kill us if they had the opportunity?" Maria argued. "You should just accept your new lot in life and enjoy it. Just feel how strong you are!"

I nodded. I had to agree to that part. As I opened my mouth to answer, the sweet scent of human flesh filled my nostrils again and my throat fired up. Suddenly I thought of nothing else. Not my new vampire life, not Maria, nothing. I just needed that smell in my hands. Needed that blood in my body. As if answering my call, Lucy and Nettie entered the room, followed by two drunks from the saloon downstairs. They gladly followed the beautiful women until they caught sight of me in the room.

"Eh, what's going on here!" one man demanded as he looked at me. "I don't go in for this sort of stuff!"

"Yeah, me neither," the other man slurred. He took in my predatory stance and began inching towards the door. "What's this all ab-" He never finished his sentence as I wrapped a hand around his throat and tore into his jugular with all the force of a lion into a gazelle. I shuddered again as the warm liquid poured into my mouth. The man struggled uselessly against my steel grip and I could feel his strength waning as I drained him of his life force.

Soon he was empty and I dropped him to the floor, blood still covering my lips and teeth. I turned to the other victim, but was beaten there by the three beautiful women. They covered the man, teeth tearing into his luscious flesh, sucking him dry. I wanted to turn away, the human side of me screaming that this was wrong. These men were both dressed in the same gray uniform as myself. They were allies! But the monster in me was much louder and just wanted to pull the women away and finish off the drunk myself. The smell of his blood was intoxicating!

Maria sat up primly and delicately wiped her beautiful mouth. She was much cleaner at this than I was, the other man's blood dripping down my chin. She reached up and wiped my face, bringing her hand to her own lips, cleaning each finger one by one.

"Now are you better able to focus?" she asked. At my nod, she picked up where she had left off. Waving to the two blondes who now stood behind her, she introduced them all. "This is Nettie, Lucy, and I'm Maria."

"Do you have last names?" I found myself asking.

Maria laughed. "We have no need for last names anymore. That is for humans. You are no longer Jasper Whitlock anymore either. You are now just Jasper. As we are no longer human, that is not necessary. Some things you should know about us is that no human is a match for our strength so we are the perfect predator. We never age -"

"What?" I asked incredulously looking at the beautiful women. Surely they couldn't be more than 18 or 19! "So how old are you?" Despite myself, I was intrigued by the idea of never aging.

"Nettie was born in 1840, Lucy in 1795, and I was born in 1768. We have banded together for one thing."

"W-what's that?" I asked, leaning forward in spite of myself.

Maria smiled, her white teeth shining in the darkness of the room.

"Revenge."

*John William Polidori was an English writer. He is credited by some as the creator of the vampire genre of fantasy fiction. His most successful work was the 1819 short "The Vampyre", the first vampire story in English*

***I hope nobody is too creeped out by the sensual act of the blood drinking. I'm writing it like that since in Breaking Dawn, Edward says that Jasper considers having sex to be second only to drinking human blood. So I'm trying to convey the sexuality in the act itself. Hence the M rating! But trust me, I am NOT that weird! :)***