Gevaden: This is the first part of the vampire fledgling story that will go on during this fic, it is written by someone who is a huge influence for the character of Philip Cremin. Knowing him it will be a twisted tale involving someone's dark decent into chaos. They start of a little before Susan revealed that Ryan is alive. Enjoy!

Anub'Arak released his prisoner, and to the floor fell the ashes of her
corpse.
The hideous vista of the hybrid laughing was tinted red. Never had Phil felt
so enraged. Never since… He began to fall... Her laughter echoed through
his cold body. Each laugh brought its own conniption of rage and fear. He
struggled to escape, but he was tied down. Enclosed and alone. And before
him flashed the image of the explosion. The one Ryan fell plague to.

He hammered open the lid of his sarcophagus. Another rough night. He felt
confused as to the meaning of some of the images in his dreams. But he
understood others all too well.

After he suitably dressed himself for another night in the modern world
(long sleeve black shirt with black canvas pants), he went to the main
office of his castle. As expected he was the first to rise after dusk, and
so he went about setting up the computers. He checked if there were any
requests for permission to sire anyone. To his relief there were none. If
one wanted to make an immortal companion, he would have to make a request to
the immortal authorities of the country. The vampire or lycan would be
interviewed by an officer and the chosen mortal would have to be monitored
to make sure he/she was stable enough. Anyone who went against the code of
practice had to face bondage and fast.
Fortunately, Phil never was faced with dealing that punishment in over a
century.

After the office was set up, he clambered out the window and began to scale
the walls, climbing towards the battlements. The thrill he got from doing
things like that. Using his powers to there full extent. When he reached the
top he looked out at the open countryside. Over the fields and forest. But
his eyes stopped at the old graveyard. A sudden stream of images flowed into
his head, as if he were reading someone's mind against his will. Images of a
lost black lamb. Of blue embers surrounded by red pyres. An artistic mind
conceived this. But not a happy one.

&&&&&&

She thought about it more. It didn't sadden her anymore. In truth, nothing
could make her any worse. Once again she looked at her pale hands. So cold.
She could remember how it began, but she didn't want to. Since it began she
hoped that she would wake and that it would all be some twisted nightmare.
She now realised that there was only one way out. She laughed. She still had
madness.

&&&&&&

Phil rushed through the fields towards the graveyard. When he got near he
sensed the presence of another immortal. A fledgling vampire. Only two days
made. But it couldn't be right. There hadn't been a request for a siring in
years. When he reached the wall of the graveyard he laid low and listened.
Through sobs he heard a girls voice singing. Lamenting. He silently jumped
over the wall and saw a young vampire, no more than 15 years mortal, lying
in the moonlight, eyes closed, growing paler. A knife whose blade was blood
stained was in her hands, both of which were covered in the crimson bodily
fluid. He was immediately filled with sorrow for the young girl, and anger
for the sick fiend that did this to her. He picked up her frail body and
with it he turned for the castle.

Gevaden: That's chapter one please tell me what you think!