A/N: Hi, all. Thanks a ton for reading this! My first fanfiction to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes stuff. I'm just stealing her ideas about vampires, because I haven't gotten to read any other vampire books yet. I don't know how much I'll use from her books, besides the world. Maybe I'll make mentions of characters, but I don't think I'll have any actually come into the story. Well, on with the story, so I don't bore you all to death with a long author's note.

Section One

I haven't spoken to anyone since my death five hundred years ago. I live—dwell might be more accurate—in an isolated house, set deep in a forest. Occasionally I'll journey to a city, where, hidden in the shadows, I'll watch people going about their daily business. I'm jealous of them, for being alive, for having family and friends.

True, I'm stronger than humans, but as far as vampires go, I'm one of the weakest. There are the famous names of powerful vampires that everyone knows, and then there's my name, Seth, completely unknown.

As I arrive in a narrow road between two broken-down buildings, I sense an unusual presence. In Canada, even near the border of the United States, there aren't many vampires. But I sense one near me now.

Curious, I head down the street, towards the vampire. They're at the end of the alley, just about to enter the main street. As I approach them, I feel a strong burst of his power lash out at me. I'm not surprised that this vampire is able to make me stumble, since I haven't ever interacted with other vampires, let alone fought with them. What I know of vampiric fights is mostly from stories I overhear, half of which are most likely pure myth.

"What do you want?" asks the vampire. His voice is cold and mean.

"N-nothing. I'm just—I mean, I didn't know there were other vampires in this area," I stammer, my voice the complete opposite of his: weak. Like me.

He growls. "That's the reason I'm here. Now get the h out of here. If I ever see you here again, I will kill you."

I have no doubt that he would do exactly that, and easily. It takes me a moment to gather up the courage to protest, "But—I live around here. I can't really go anywhere else. I promise I won't bother you again." I look down at the ground as I talk.

Again he strikes me with his power, stronger this time. I hit the wall of the nearest building really hard as I fall, but I refuse to let myself make a sound. When I reach the ground I don't move.

"Weak," I hear him mutter in disgust. Don't I know that right now.

His power hits me a few more times, probably just for sport, since I'm obviously no threat to him. Finally he stalks off down the street. Clenching my teeth against the pain, which fortunately is dulled from being a vampire, I bring myself home again, falling asleep at once.

The next evening, I wake up. Unlike humans, I have the wonderful ability to remember exactly what happened before I fell asleep—the whole humiliating thing. Not surprisingly, I decide to stay home today. In a few weeks I might chance a trip outside, but definitely not in the same city as last night.

Sometime around midnight, as I'm sitting around and wishing there was something better to do with my existence, I'm scared to death—well, you get what I mean—by a loud knock on the door. I have no doorbell, because there's no use for it when I've never had a single visitor.

I go to the door and ask, Who are you? I use thoughts to say it, to find out if it's a vampire or not. If it's a human, most likely they'll be frightened away by the mere use of thoughts to communicate.

Acantha, I hear in answer. Alright, so it's a vampire. Lucky me.

What do you want? I ask, trying to sound like a powerful, confident vampire… what a lie. But of course I don't pull it off.

Are all your conversations through a closed door?

I sigh. It's no use keeping the door closed. If this visitor wants me dead, she wouldn't have come from the door. She probably would have appeared behind me and murdered me before I even had a chance to flinch. I open the door.

Typical vampire of human-made stories: black eyes, deathly pale skin, black hair falling in waves almost to her waist. She scares me.

"I'm sorry my brother was so… rude," Acantha says. "It's just how he is. He has nothing against you personally."

"Your brother?" I ask, hearing my voice waver slightly and hating it.

She nods. "Morgen. He was the one who attacked you last night."

A/N: Ah, this was fun to write. I've been laughing the whole time. Short chapter, I know. These aren't really chapter length sections. I'm just cutting it off when I feel like it's about the right length so people won't get too bored reading it. Review please! See you all next chapter...