Well, sorry about that folks. That little Melanie Merchant – she looks like a bit of an angel anyway, doesn't she... Good news is, you're all already dead so you really don't have to worry about those straight-razor cuts. On the down side, I suppose the little dear has more issues than any of us really thought – apparently, neither death nor afterlife have resolved anything for her. Let's all give our thanks-yous to Mr. Erich Streator – Melanie really seems to have calmed down since he gave her that Talking Tina doll.

So, let's move on. Wow, now here's something I haven't seen in a demon's age! A vampire! I was starting to wonder if you'd all disappeared already or, more likely, hiding out somewhere. Come on up here, #6366…

Hey. Name's Luther. And, yeah, I suppose a lot of vampires have gone to ash lately. I haven't seen such a massacre since, well, it's been over 100 years now. After the book that Irish guy (Abraham something-or-other) wrote, suddenly there were half-witted Van Helsing types running around everywhere. And, while most were pretty harmless, there were some that didn't believe everything they read and figured out what worked against us and what didn't.

After the initial craze subsided, things got quiet again with a lot of casualties on each side. But, it seems humans have a real interest in the vampire lifestyle and there are probably more stories written about us than there are vampires left. Every decade or so, there are new books or movies or television shows starring vampire characters. It was kind of an honor when Bela Lugosi did it... but those Hollywood pretty boys in that Anne Rice flick were a totally different story. Don't even get me started on that TV show with the little girl whose supposed to be some all-powerful vampire killing machine! 'Course, the dark haired slayer was pretty hot... always had a thing for brunettes...

Guess that's where the trouble started. After the pack I had run with were nearly wiped out... between the hunters and the internal politics, there were only a few of us left. And, without a strong leader, the group crumbled. I realized that the only way to live the life I wanted would be to start my own fold.

I started slow – I wasn't very trusting at first, given my initial experience. I produced a few vampires, only one of which survived the year. It was an awkward adjustment from follower to leader, but I eventually got the hang of things. In only a couple decades, I had a nice-sized, loyal group at my back.

Which, of course, included Kate. Moment I laid eyes on that woman, I knew two things: that I had to have her and that she'd be the end of me. 'Course, even I didn't take that omen as literally as I should have...

Life was great. My flock looked up to me like a father... no, I can't imagine being a dad. Let's say they looked to me as a favorite uncle or cool big brother. We would party, hang out, just have fun. We would hunt, but I wasn't really big on the whole 'slaughter as many humans as possible' thing that dominated my last family, so we kept things simple. We usually kept a human for awhile, feeding as necessary. And, on occasion, we might choose to add to our number.

After the hunts, the group would gather around and ask me to tell them stories about my life, about things before they had turned. It always reminded me of bedtime stories after a big holiday dinner. If I had thought more about it, if I would have noticed how entranced they all became, maybe I would have kept some of my stories to myself. It just never occurred to me how closely they all paid attention – especially Kate. Kate seemed to memorize every detail of my stories, both those told to the group and those kept private between us.

One night, I came home to find a little party going on – apparently in my honor. Kate sauntered up to me with a smile on her face and a bottle in her hand and told me they had brought me presents. Just like a woman – I probably only mentioned my birthday in passing years ago, but she remembered.

There were two of them, a young human couple. Just looking at him, I could see the man would be trouble and let the others have him. But, the woman (another brunette), well she looked like a keeper. Kate could read me like a book, knew the look I was giving the woman, but I'm a lucky man to have such a trusting woman – jealousy is not becoming nor was it necessary.

But then, Kate told me she had one more gift. She handed me a gun... an old gun... a familiar gun. I know why she did it. A month or so ago, I told the group about an attack on my first family. It was meant to be a sort of lesson in precaution, but I guess I was too subtle. Later, when we were lying in bed, Kate had asked me about the hunters responsible. I told her that only one still existed and after much persuasion on her part, I gave her a name.

The gun was legendary, made by Samuel Colt himself. And, if I was current on such knowledge (as I knew I was), I knew the last person who had been in possession of the gun. It was a thoughtful gesture... but I knew that if Kate and the others had gotten the gun from Daniel Elkins, Elkins was now dead. The man would never have given up the weapon and he certainly wouldn't have allowed it to be stolen.

Part of me was proud of my flock and appreciative of such the gesture. However, the logical leader in me was infuriated. Time and time again I have told them stories of hunters. Hunters are the same as vampires in that we do not survive alone. While hunters may not travel in the packs that we do, they are never without contacts and allies. To kill a hunter means more will follow. Revenge has it's time and place, but not at the risk of one's family.

That very night, just as I thought, more hunters came. Luckily, one of the do-gooders woke our new recruit and she was able to give them away before any of the fold were harmed. But I knew, it had to end – and it had to end soon.

We set up a trap for them, however, these hunters were smart and the trap turned out to be for us. They slaughtered one of ours and took Kate hostage. They wanted the gun – it seemed they had a score to settle with a certain demon and didn't mean us any harm. While I was upset at the loss of one of ours, I was willing to trade and be done with the hunters.

But, at the exchange, Kate managed to get herself loose and hit the hunter, knocked him out. And then all hell broke loose. Next thing I knew, some of the flock had been hit with arrows – that normally wouldn't do much damage other than to their clothing, but these were dipped in dead blood. The fight was escalating.

I saw the other two hunters. One was too far, but the other was near enough to me. I struck out and knocked the boy down, then grabbed hold of him – I wasn't too proud to use the kid as a bargaining chip. The last hunter stilled, looked at me while holding onto a machete. He was just a kid as well – young, but not so young as the one I was practically squeezing the life from.

This last guy looked torn, not knowing what to do, and that's when I realized – from a distance I couldn't tell but now that they were all so close, I could smell the familial blood. And that's how I had to strike. I had to play it just right for the sake of my family; I had to get this last hunter to understand that I wanted to protect my family just as he seemed to want to protect his. I'm not necessarily a 'peace, love, and understanding' type guy, but I would rather call a truce and live my life rather than always be on the run or at war. I had to get this guy to understand that vampires have as much right to live as humans...

I don't think so, said the older hunter from behind me. On instinct, I turned only to be met with a bullet making its way to my head. I wanted to laugh, since I thought it was a useless thing to do. But then I noticed the pain spiking from the impact and moving through my body like pure electricity. I could actually feel myself burning up from the inside out – I wouldn't recommend it, by the way; its not the best way to get here by any means.