London, England - 1663

"Come on, son," Ezra Cullen said, pulling Carlisle along behind him, "we have to move quickly. These evil beings are faster than us, but we're smarter. Keep up now."

"Yes, father." Carlisle held his head high and picked up his pace.

"Stop." Ezra pulled his son over to a dark alcove. "You're going to have to do this one alone, son, do you think you can handle it?"

Carlisle peeked out and saw the two witches.

"I'm not sure, father." Carlisle hid again.

"Carlisle, I'm getting old," Ezra told him, "this is your job now. I can come along still, watch you, guide you, but not forever. You have to keep going, we must rid the world of all evil beings. Go on now, you can do it. You're a Cullen, we have God on our side, son."

Carlisle stepped out from his hiding spot. His mother had died giving birth to him so it had always been him and his father. In recent years, all the pastors, his father included, led hunts searching for witches, werewolves and vampires. They were trying to rid the world of all evil.

Carlisle wasn't sure where he stood on the matter. He helped his father, but at what cost? Most of the people they killed had no obvious signs of being evil, they were just guessing. Carlisle liked to be sure, he didn't want to kill any innocents, but it was too hard to tell at times.

Carlisle approached the two women, the suspected witches. As he got closer, Carlisle was less sure. He had his father's voice in his head, urging him forward, telling him to rid the world of evil, but he couldn't do it. When he was close enough to the women, he told them to run. They did, splitting directions. Carlisle gave chase, but it was all for show.

When the time was right, he came back to his father, completely out of breath.

"So?" Ezra asked. "Did you kill them, son?"

Carlisle couldn't lie.

"No, father," he dropped his head, "they got away."

Ezra sighed. "You have so much to learn. Come on, let's go home and we can try again tomorrow."

But tomorrow never came, not for Ezra Cullen. He passed away in his sleep. In the coming days, Carlisle felt as though he had disappointed his father and because of that he had no choice but to take over his father's cause and rid the world of evil. Carlisle thought he was prepared to kill, but unlike his father, he was going to make sure they were evil beings first.

Carlisle teamed up with the other pastors, going on many raids, but his hands never got dirty. He had yet to have his first kill. He knew it would eventually come, but he wanted to be sure first. The other pastors soon caught onto the fact that Carlisle wasn't pulling his weight and they gave him an ultimatum. He needed to head his own raid and produce results or he would be banished. The only reason he hadn't been banished yet was because he was Ezra Cullen's only son.

It took a month for Carlisle to finally find a coven of vampires, and they were real this time. Carlisle had seen them hunt. The pastors let him take his time and that's what Carlisle did. He watched them for months, gaining all the information he could about them. They were evil and he was going to kill them. He didn't feel bad about it, vampires belonged in hell, he was just sending them back.

When ready, Carlisle got the pastors together and they attacked the sewer where the vampires lived. It was a mess, completely chaotic, causalities on both sides. Carlisle thought he was ready to kill, but when it came down to it, he faltered and he was attacked. Carlisle managed to get out of the sewers, but he was left bleeding in the street. He knew death was upon him and he prayed to God to make it quick. He was ready to see his father again.

But it wasn't quick.

Carlisle had enough sense to get away from everyone. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on but he knew it wasn't death which must mean something worse. He hid in a potato cellar and then the pain started. It was slow and unbearable. Carlisle wished death upon himself so many times, but God didn't grant him mercy. He thought it was because he refused to kill in God's name, but it was too late to rectify that.

The burning pain ceased three days later and Carlisle opened his eyes, looking at the world in a new light. He felt different, taller, stronger, thirsty. He sat up way too fast and his head swam. It didn't take Carlisle long to work out what had happened, what he had become. He was a vampire. Carlisle was disgusted by the fact that he was now one of the evil beings his father hated so much.

He tried every way possible to kill himself. He couldn't be a vampire, he didn't want to be evil. He needed to rid the world of himself. Nothing worked though. He couldn't drown as he didn't need oxygen to survive. The burn in his throat was intense so he didn't find blood, but starvation didn't kill him either. He tried jumping off various cliffs, but his skin was impenetrable. The only thing that came close was when he scratched himself, but he never went too deep, he couldn't, and the wounds always ended up healing. It was futile and Carlisle decided he was doomed to live this way until someone else killed him.

While hiding in a cave in the forest, a herd of deer passed by closely and Carlisle's instincts took over. He could hear their hearts beating, he could smell their blood, taste it even, he was beyond thirsty. He didn't want to harm them, but his brain reasoned that it was better than attacking a human. He still wasn't sure, but his instincts took over and before he knew it, he was bathed in their blood.

It dulled the thirst, he noted afterwards, as he sat around the herd of massacred deer. He felt bad for killing them, but he knew it was no different from eating meat as a human. He buried the deer, unsure whether he would kill anymore animals, but it was decided for him, days later, when he passed by a window. His reflection caught him and he paused. He expected to see an evil being with bright red eyes glaring back at him, but he looked the same as he had, maybe a little more flawless, and his eyes weren't red, they were a golden brown.

Carlisle fed again, on more animals, and his eyes eventually settled into gold. He thought it looked beautiful. He didn't look evil, he didn't have red eyes or kill humans. He may be a vampire, but that didn't mean he had to be evil. Carlisle decided to stick to his animal diet and he decided to live. No more attempts to end his life. He wouldn't let this fate curse him, he would find his place in this world, a place where he wouldn't kill, a place where he would become a helper. He would be a good vampire.

Boston, Massachusetts - 1780

"You make me laugh, Hamilton," Garrett said, taking another drink.

"Shut it, Garrison," Thomas Hamilton said, "no one agrees with you or your right-wing views."

"I'm just saying that if a lady wishes to offer up her body and get paid in return then who am I to deny her." Garrett smiled.

"Why pay when you can just take it for free?" Thomas asked.

"I like my girls to be willing, not forced," Garrett said. "Unlike you, Hamilton. I heard you like them with a little fight in them."

"Of course," Thomas said, "I like the feisty ones. You should try it, Garrison. When they leave their mark on you, it's so hot. They like it a little rough, you know."

"Rough's good," Garrett smiled, "you can be rough with nice girls too, if they're willing."

"You're too fucking righteous." Thomas shook his head.

"Please," Elijah Wesley joined in the conversation, "he's not righteous, he's fucking ruthless. His kill count is miles above ours."

"What can I say," Garrett took another drink, "I like to kill things."

"And bathe in their blood," Elijah said, "it's sick, man."

"It's the blood of our enemies," Garrett said, "ain't nothing wrong with that. This is war and I'm a warrior."

They all laughed, breaking the silence and stillness of the night.

"Will you three shut the fuck up," their commanding officer, Philip Banks, barked out.

"Come on, Banks," Thomas said, "we ain't doing nothing but letting off some steam."

"Your stupidity will lead the enemy right to us if you're not careful," Philip told them.

"So, what?" Garrett said. "I could go for some more killing."

"Just shut your fucking mouths before I shut them for you," Philip said.

The three young men shared a look.

"Fuck," Garrett said, "I'm out of whiskey. I wish the enemy was here right now, I'm buzzed and I want to make them bleed."

"You're a lunatic," Thomas said.

"Yeah," Elijah agreed, "at least you're on our side."

"South, south," John Lister said as he ran over to the group of nine men, "there's a battle just south of here, they need our help."

"Yes," Garrett said, standing up and only swaying a little bit.

"You're fucking drunk," Thomas said, trying to steady his friend.

"Am not," Garrett slurred, "you are."

"Please," Elijah said, "you hogged the bottle, we barely got one drink."

"Come on, men," Philip said, "gather your weapons and let's fall out."

"You need to calm down, Garrison," Thomas said as they headed south in the darkness, "your drunk ass is going to get us killed."

"I'm still the best, even when I'm drunk," Garrett said, "better even."

"Just leave him," Elijah said, "the run should sober him up some."

They reached the battle scene and something seemed off. Philip stopped them.

"This isn't our fight," Philip said, recognizing the strange creature with red eyes, "let's retreat."

"Fuck that," Garrett said, "I'll kill them, it's only one, it'll be easy."

"No," Philip said, trying to stop Garrett, but it was too late.

"What do we do?" John asked Philip.

"We go after him." Philip sighed, knowing that Garrett had most likely just sealed their death.

"Fuck that," Thomas said, "Garrison doesn't need our help, Banks, he got himself into the mess, he can get himself out. He's smart, he'll be fine and he knows where our camp is."

"I'm not leaving my man behind," Philip said, "no matter how stupid he is."

"I'm leaving," Thomas said, turning around.

Elijah faltered. Garrett was his friend too, but he didn't want to die tonight. If this wasn't their fight then they shouldn't fight, but it was all too late. Garrett was knocked unconscious by the lone figure and then the group of soldiers were the sole focus of the vampire.

The vampire made quick work of killing and draining the nine men until only Garrett was left. He approached Garrett's unconscious form and began to drink. He was full by then and didn't appreciate the high amount of alcohol in Garrett's system, it overpowered the taste of the blood, and, as a result, Garrett wasn't killed, but left for dead.

Garrett woke up three days later to a shocking scene, all his comrades had been killed. He stared at them. Thomas, Elijah, Philips, John, all of them, dead. Their blood was old and barely there, but it still called to Garrett, it made his throat burn. He wanted to taste it, so he did. He took any that was left, but there were only a few drops. It was old, it wasn't enough.

Garrett left his comrades and set off in search of more blood. He came across a group of men and he didn't hesitate. He snapped all their necks, he loved killing, and then he drained them dry. The blood was good, it travelled around his body and settled nicely, making him feel full, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted more and he was going to get it.

Forks, Washington - 1987

Charlie Swan couldn't take his eyes off his not even one-day-old baby girl. Her name was Isabella Marie Swan and she was perfect. He felt the tears come to his eyes as he held her in his arms. She was so tiny. He couldn't believe she was his, his little angel. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I love you, my little Bella Swan," he whispered, feeling complete for the first time in a long time.

Charlie adored his little girl. She was just a baby, so she didn't do much, but he found himself watching her sleep more often than not. Things had been strained between him and his wife Renée, but Charlie was so focused on Bella that he didn't think much of it. They were a family, this was just a bump in the road that they would get over.

It wasn't until three months later when Charlie came home from work to Renée, with baby Bella in her arms, and the packed suitcases beside them that he realized something was wrong.

"Renée?" he asked. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Charlie," she said, "but I'm leaving and I'm taking Bella with me."

"You can't do that," Charlie said, "she's my daughter too, I have rights. What did I do wrong? Tell me and I'll stop doing it. I thought things were going better. I've been providing for you, looking after all the things so you could focus on Bella. Please don't leave me, Renée, I'll do better, just tell me what to do."

"I need to do this," Renée stood up, "for me and Isabella," she added. "Forks isn't for us, it's too small. You're not right for us either. I'm sorry, Charlie. I was just going to leave you a note, but I decided not to. It's nothing you did, this life just isn't for me, for us."

"You can't take Bella away from me," Charlie pleaded.

"You're welcome to visit whenever you like," Renée said.

Charlie wasn't happy with that.

"Where are you moving to?" he asked.

"California, to live with my mother."

"What? Why?" Charlie said. "That's too far away and you hate your mother, you call her the devil. How is she a better choice than me? You can stay here, I'll take the couch. You don't have to move this instance and not to your mother's. I can help you get a place close by, Seattle even. Please don't leave me, Renée, please don't take Bella away from me. She's my angel, I love her, please don't do this to me,"

"I'm sorry, Charlie," Renée said, "but I've already decided and my mother is already expecting us."

"But… I…" Charlie faltered. He was shocked, he couldn't believe this was happening.

"Goodbye, Charlie," Renée said, standing up with Bella.

"Wait," Charlie said, "don't I get to say goodbye to my baby girl?"

"Of course," Renée handed Bella over, "I'll go put our bags in the car. I'm taking it with me, by the way."

Charlie didn't care. "Fine, whatever," he said as he stared into his baby girl's eyes and she stared back.

Renée went out the door and Charlie let his tears fall.

"I love you, Bella," he said, "please never forget that. I'll visit you as often as I can, and hopefully you can come visit me too. I'm hoping your mother is just overreacting, maybe she just needs a break, I hope she comes back. Oh, Bella." Charlie kissed his baby girl's forehead over and over again. "I've always loved you," he whispered, "and you've always got a home with me."

Renée came back and cleared her throat. Charlie gave Bella one last kiss before handing her back to her mother.

"Remember," Renée told him, "you can visit her whenever you want," and then she was gone, they were both gone.

Charlie felt his world crumble around him. He numbly walked over to the couch, collapsing on it. What had happened? How could Renée do this to him? He wanted to know what he did wrong, but he knew it was nothing. This was all on Renée. Charlie was a smart man, he knew he could fight for custody, but the judge would most likely rule in Renée's favor.

California, that was the worst part of it all, they were moving so far away. Renée's promise was a joke because Charlie knew that with his job as a police officer, the distance he would have to travel, the money it would cost, he wouldn't be able to visit Bella as often as he'd like and it killed him inside.

He was helpless. If he followed, Renée would run again. If he fought for custody, he'd lose. If he took time off work, he might lose his house and job. He would just have to work harder, save more money, and take time off to visit Bella when he could. He would not let his baby girl grow up without her father.