Dark Love

By: Padfoot-chan

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Golden Sun characters. They belong to Camelot.

Warning: If blood makes you queasy, this is not the story for you but I only talk about it a little bit. Shonen-ai later in the story but not until maybe the second chapter.

This is first person point-of-view. We start out from Robin's POV and switch over to Ivan's in the next chapter. It will go Robin-Ivan each chapter unless I say otherwise. I hope everyone enjoys reading this vampiric story. Read and review please.

Chapter 1: Darkness takes All

My upper lip curls back as I grab the man's shoulders, pinning him up against the alley wall with ease. The two sharp fangs glistening in the slivery moonlight before I use them to puncture the delicate flesh at his neck, the man's struggling body slowly growing limp as I suck the warm blood from his neck. I revel in the bitty-sweet taste of the blood as it touches my tongue and slides down the back of my throat before I break away from the man before his heart can stop beating. I bite down on my tongue, using my own blood to close the small puncture wound. I reach in to my pocket with my free hand, the other holding the dying man against the wall. I fish out a small knife and cut slits into the man's wrists before allowing him to slide to the ground. I slip the knife back in to the pocket of my trench coat and turn away from the body, walking through the deserted alleyway.

I am a child of the night, a vampire as people have called us for what seems like forever. I have roamed this earth for over a century now and I have seen countless civilizations rise and fall before their time. I have watched as the lives of thousands of fragile humans came in to blossom and wilt as if they were mere flowers in a growing garden. In a sense, that is all they are to me, meager flowers in a forgotten garden, overrunning the garden slowly but surely as their own life comes to an end.

My natural life ended long ago, but I can remember it with such clarity that it sometimes haunts me as I meander the streets at night. The plagues were unbearable in my day. My youngest brother and two older sisters suffered from the plague. We could not even bury them because famine had weakened us. Even if we had not been weak from starvation, there was no room to bury their bodies for the number dead bodies kept growing with each passing day; they were just piled on top of the other in the streets. That has all changed now. Viruses that were once thought of a deadly and incurable in the past can now be cured with an injection of an antibiotic and some rest. These humans take their modern magic for granted. They do not understand what it was like to live with death all around you, drowning your every senses until you ate, slept, and breathed it, losing yourself to the death completely. It ruled my youth, took my beloved siblings and drove both of my parents to the brink of insanity. I watched them argue constantly about the most trivial things, mainly about how the plague had yet to take me as it had taken the rest of our family. They slowly began to grow more violent with each argument, my father beating my mother each time. I fell asleep listening to her crying, the sound engraved in my mind forever.

A little after my eighteenth birthday, my father came home, with alcohol strong on his breath. He pushed me to the ground before lifting me up by my collar and then throwing me in to my room, locking the door behind him. I heard my mother scream, telling him to let me out. Her scream was followed by the sound of skin hitting skin, my father cursing at her before punching my mother, the sound of his fist hitting her and then the sound of her falling onto the ground with a cry of pain. I listened to them, unable to do anything to help as I cowered in the corner of my room, the sound of my mother crying and struggling as my father tore her clothes off, his insane laughter filling my ears, drowning me in his own insanity.

That was when the front door slammed open. Everything outside my room immediately grew silent, heavy footsteps sounding on the wooden floorboards as someone entered the house. Then my mother screamed followed by a frightened shout from my father, the would demon leaving his mouth multiple times. There was the sound of swift movements as someone ran across the room; my father's strangled croak reached my ears. I lowered my arms from my head and straightened up slowly, staring at the locked door that kept me from the room outside where my parents and this new stranger were only a few feet away from me. Something heavy fell to the ground and then my mother's voice broke the silence that followed.

"Who are you? What do you want from me? Please, do whatever you want to me; just do not hurt my son. He is the only one I have left in this world. Do not harm him." My mother's last words, spoken from her heart. She damned my soul for all eternity because of what she said to the stranger that night. Those words have never left me, perhaps they never will and I will carry them around with me as long as my heart beats in my chest. She truly loved me, up until the last moment of her life, all she could think about was my safety. She was dear to me. She still is dear to me and I hope I never forget her.

After my mother said those final words, someone laughed. It was a bone-chilling sound that caused a shiver to crawl up my spine. I stagger to my feet, leaning heavily against the wall to regain my balance. I slowly move toward my door, pressing my ear up against the cool wood to hear what was going on outside my room better. "Do not worry, fair lady. The only reason I am here is because of your son. I am searching for a…protégé as it were. Your precious son happens to be perfect for what I have in mind." My mother let out a gasp that is a mixture of both pain and surprise and I feel a sharp pang in my heart. I slipped to the ground and pressed my forehead against the door. I could feel it then, my mother's soul being drained from her body with each passing second. There was nothing I could have done then. I was too week to stop her from dying that night. I would pay for that as well. I am still paying for my weakness that night, with every unholy breath I take, every beat of my dark heart.

Before I knew what was going on, my door was ripped off its hinges. A tall man with long black hair and piercing ice-blue eyes stood before me in the doorway, smirking down at me. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of my father's body lying facedown on the floor and sitting upright against the wall was my mother, her mouth hanging open slightly with her eyes half lidded. Both of them were dead and this man had killed them in a matter of moments while I listened to him do it, sitting in the corner of my room and shivering like a coward. Was this man going to kill me now as well? Would he want to make a clean job of the murder he had committed? The man lowered himself to the ground with a grace that did not belong to that of a human being. I stumble backwards, wanting to distance myself from this man. The smell of death was all about him and on his breath was the metallic smell of fresh blood. My parents' blood, mingled with the blood of other innocent people. It overwhelmed me, awakening past memories. My brother crying out to me in pain, blood trickling out the side of his mouth as tears streamed down his cheeks. My mother held his small, fragile body in her slender arms as he slowly slipped away. I always hated the smell of blood, I still do even now with me being who I am. It reminded me of how truly weak the human race is, how we have become so dependent that we do not even realize it ourselves. A loss of self. A loss of caring. A loss of innocence.

The man reaches out to me and I suddenly find that I cannot move from the spot I am in anymore. The man's eyes. They are so cold, as cold as that laugh that had passed through his lips before he killed my mother. Something colder than ice, sharper and more piercing than a knife cutting through your heart. Heartbreak. Death. Blood lust. A passion burning like a crimson fire for all three. Burning desire to destroy those around him. Careless disregard for the rules. A need, a want to break every rule that was set up against him, every rule solely placed in front of him to hinder his fun. A hand as cold as those eyes touches my cheek, forcing another shiver to run up my spine. "You are a pretty boy, aren't you? Sensual pale blue eyes…Yes, you are perfect." The man whispered, his voice silky as it passed through his lips and reached my ears. "Do not be afraid. I am merely fulfilling your mother's dying wish. She wanted no harm to come to you and after this, none will. You, my boy, will become an immortal. You will walk through history, learn more than you could ever imagine. The world and everyone in it will become mere toys to you, bending to your every will. All you could ever want lies before you now, my boy! I will not take no for an answer, either. You belong to me now."

He grabbed my shoulders with lightening quick reflexes, pulling me to his chest and then he pulled down my collar, revealing my pale neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man's upper lip curl back as two, razor-sharp fangs slide from his mouth. I try to struggle, kick or even punch the man to get away from him but his grip is too tight. I shut my eyes tightly when I feel the two fangs penetrate the skin on my neck. The man's lips are there before blood can begin to trickle from the newly formed wound. All thought leaves me when I feel him begin to suck at the wound, my blood rushing from the vein, through the tiny holes and in to the man's mouth. My strength slowly leaves me every time the man takes more and more blood of my blood in to his mouth. The room starts to swirl around me, objects losing their shape. Slowly, nothing is real to me except that intense sucking at my neck. The numb thought lulls me in to some morbid sense of security. Just as my vision begins to fade to black, plunging me in to eternal darkness, the man pulls away from my neck and lifts his wrist to his mouth, running on pointed fang along his pale skin, breaking the soft tissue there with ease.

He lifts his wrist to my mouth, the pungent smell of fresh blood breaking me out of my daze. I stare down fearfully at the blood dripping from the wound on his wrist, wondering what the man wanted me to do. "Drink." It was a simple command but he spoke it with such force that I knew he seriously wanted to me drink. He grabbed the back of my head with his other hand when I would not comply with his command and he forced my mouth on the wound. I gasp and inhale some of the blood, my lips finally curving around the man's wrist. "Drink or you will die." I swallow, the thick, sticky liquid sliding down the back of my throat. A wave of nausea hits me and I begin to sway but the hand that is now on the back of my neck holds me in place.

Something inside of me knows what the man says is true. The part of me that holds the burning desire to live—even though my only family is dead and gone now—overpowers me and I begin to suck at his wrist and with each gulp of blood, I feel my strength begin to return to me. I continue to drink for what seems like an eternity before the man pulls his wrist away. I did not understand why then but I whimpered pathetically and reached out for his wrist again, wanting nothing more than to continue to drink the blood from his wrist. "Now, now. Do not be greedy. There will be plenty of time for that later. Now, you are of my kind and you will live for centuries, maybe longer. There are things I must teach you before I unleash you upon the world."

I felt sick. I had become the same as the monster that had killed my parents, and perhaps countless others. I might as well have been the one to have killed them myself. I slowly began to withdraw within myself, cutting all of my thoughts and emotions from the outside world. It drove my maker crazy. He would yell, throw things just to try to drive some kind of emotion out of me. Nothing worked and one day, he left. I had become free in a sense so I decided to travel around the world, testing my limits—if I had any for that matter—and the abilities of the mortal humans that filled the world around me.

From the first day of this sick immortality, I noticed some drastic changes in both my physical and mental attributes. All my senses had been heightened by the change, my skin had grown paler and my eyes had gained a sharper look to them until it looked as if they could pierce your very soul. I had grown smarter as well, past memories that were nearly impossible for me to remember when I was human suddenly became ridiculously easy for me to recall almost as if they had happened mere seconds before. I also found I could speak any language after only listening to a few words and then speak it as if I had been living in that county for my whole life. No book was a difficulty to me. I could read hundreds of pages in minutes and remember every little detail with great ease as if I had studied each page for hours with a careful eye for detail. My strength had grown immensely as well and I had become surprisingly graceful. Over the years, I have accumulated a small fortune, enough to buy any estate in any country on any piece of land that I wish to live in.

I had been living in one of the big cities in America up until a year or so ago. It was becoming too crowded for me, the constant noise growing unbearable to my sharp hearing. I decided to leave and found myself in Japan, probably a place more crowded than the American town I had been living in. However, I found that I like it and I have stayed there since. I walk the streets at night, luring my victims from one of the many bars opened to people at night and into a deserted alley where I would then grab them and suck their blood from their body. I left their bodies there because I did not have time to waste dumping them somewhere. It might have made that easier for someone to find them that way and I did not need anyone to be alerted of my presence.

Over time, I had changed. It was to be expected of course. I have to kill people to keep myself going and to save what little humanity I have left inside myself, I keep my emotions from ever reaching the surface.

To make things worse, Japan is home to a group of prestigious vampire hunters, one of the world's best. I ran in to a small group the other night. They did put up a good fight before I killed them, but even humans with their powers cannot hope to beat a vampire as old as I am. Besides, I still have one reason left in this world to keep living. Finding my creator, if he is still alive that is. There is probably no vampire hunter alive in this world with the ability to kill my maker, but he can kill himself. Either by stepping into a fire or standing in the sunlight my kind can die. A vampire hunter has the ability to bend their magic to their will, summoning a fire to wrap around a vampire's body or summon a false sun to burn out flesh. When I find out where these vampire hunters are training, I will break in and put a stop to them once and for all. It can become very annoying to have them follow you around town for hours before they actually strike out. I should be thanking them, though. Thanks to them, I am one of the only vampires in Japan.

I turn a corner and walk up the steps to my large mansion, unlocking and opening the door with a simple look before stepping over the threshold and hanging my coat over the back of a chair. In all my years of roaming this world, I have not seen or heard of my maker's whereabouts. I am looking for him so that I can kill him myself. I do not care how I do it but I wish to seek revenge for my mother's death. Her dying words may have drove him to turn me in to this blood drinking monster but she loved me and he had no right to take her life in the way that he did. He may destroy me if I were to try but at least I died with the knowledge that I did something instead of sitting idly by, disgracing my mother's memory. I have become just like him, though. I have killed too many innocent people to ask forgiveness from anyone. My mother would cry if she ever knew what I have become.

However, darkness will eventually take all souls, no matter how pure the person is. I was taken long ago and I take people now. I will continue to take the lives of people until I find my creator and fight him in a final battle. It does not matter the outcome to me. I have walked on this earth long enough.

-TBC-

Next chapter belongs to Ivan! Read and review please 3