"B-but… I can't kill someone," Levy covered her mouth with her hands, her face mortified at Gajeel's request.

"You have to feed, Levy, otherwise you'll become weak," Gajeel looked down at her, her newly reddened eyes glistening back up at him. He could tell her mind was calculating, trying to find a way out and coming up with none.

"Isn't there… anything? I can't hurt someone… that's awful," she looked down at her feet.

Gajeel once again felt guilt tug at his heart. Here he was again, forcing her to do something that morally repulsed her. He tore her from her friends and family and turned her into a monster. All because he couldn't stop Jose.

'…you're so weak.'

"Tch," Gajeel turned his back to her, his voice betraying anger that made her jump, "I'm going to hunt. You either come and learn or start to starve. Your choice,"

"Gajeel…"

He heard her reluctantly following after him, shuffling her feet solemnly after him. He knew she would never be a cold-blooded killer like him. She valued human life far too much for that. He should have never turned her into a vampire. She would have probably preferred death to the life she was forced into now.

'Such a selfish and stupid man…'

He quickened his pace, anger making his blood boil. He felt like he was going insane. Maybe what he needed was to feed. When was the last time he'd had a good, thrilling hunt? More than anything he just wanted to destroy something, make somebody bleed. Set something on fire…

'Like you did her family? Disgusting monster…'

"Gajeel!" Levy's voice suddenly brought him back to reality. He stopped when he felt her hand on his arm. She looked at him with alarmingly cheerful eyes and flashed him a naively care-free smile, "Wait a minute,"

He regarded her for a moment before turning to face her, "Yeah?"

"I never got to thank you before… for saving me," he blinked. Was she serious? But her smile didn't waver, "Thank you, Gajeel,"

"Uh… sure,"

"That's the second time now, isn't it?" her new fangs glistened in the dim light, "I wonder how many times you're going to end up saving me,"

He just stared down at her, unsure as to how to take her words. How could she not hate his very being? He diverted his gaze from hers, choosing instead to gaze at her bright blue hair that was falling in perfect curls around her face. Despite being turned, she still seemed like such a precious creature…

"Did you mean what you said?" she caught his gaze, interlacing her fingers with his. Her eyes were soft, not hard and dark like his.

"Hm?" What had he said again?"

"When you said you loved me," a light blush started to fill her cheeks, "Did you mean it?"

"Oh… of course," his gaze softened and for the first time that day he felt his fury completely dismissed from his body.

"I love you too," she smiled, leaning her head forward to kiss his chest gently, running her hands up his stomach. The feel of her light touches filled him with a peaceful warmth and he couldn't help kissing her forehead lightly. Her kisses trailed against his shirt and she lifted herself onto her tiptoes so she could continue her way up.

"Levy…" he whispered, leaning down and letting his lips brush hers. She responded hungrily, a fact that sent shivers down his spine. Carnal urges pulled his fingers down her flesh and made his tongue slip past her delicately lips to claim her mouth. He could feel her lean into his touch as his hands caressed her sides. She pressed herself against him, her chest flush against him. He desperately wanted their clothes off, craved her flesh against his as he gave in to his lascivious desires.

"G-Gajeel…!" she gasped when his hands slid over her rear. He lifted her off the ground, pulling her legs to wrap around him. His strength amazed her and without skipping a beat his lips found their way to her neck, his tongue running hot trails against her skin. She let out a quiet moan as his mouth advanced down her throat and collar, heading for the V in her shirt…

"Gajeel! S-Stop!"

He growled against her skin, the sound making her shiver. He could smell her desire and it was driving him mad. He desperately didn't want to stop. He buried his face into her chest, taking a calming breath. He felt her fingers comb gently through his tangle mess of hair. Reluctantly, he lifted her off of him and placed her on the ground.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, "I'm sorry,"

Levy's face was flushed and she kept straightening and re-straightening her dress under his intense stare. She could see the desire that still lurked in his eyes, though he had definitely reined most of it into submission. To her surprise, he place his palm playfully on her head and mussed her hair.

"You're fine, Shorty," he smirked. He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying her, "Why don't you stay? Find Lily or something. I'll go hunting alone."

"B-But…" Levy started, though he could tell she was secretly relieved, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah… I'll… figure something out," he grunted, turning his back to her.

He could hear her retreating footsteps as he continued into the night. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't terrified to be alone with himself anymore. The voice in his mind was driving him mad. He was thinking different things and feeling different ways that he wasn't used to. Truth be told, he was an angry man with a bad temper, but never had rage shaken him so strongly before… and the occurrences were becoming more and more frequent. His dreams were being haunted as well. He could hear voices, a multitude of them in his dreams calling him forward to some destination. He didn't know where it was but he knew it was somewhere he didn't really feel like going.

He pushed the thoughts aside, instead focusing on the present. He was on the outskirts of a small broken village. The place was a known hub of criminal activity. Any families there were either too poor to leave or the product of a one night stand with a woman of questionable values. It was a place where men preyed in the darkness for an unsuspecting woman to pass by or where money was something that quickly left your pockets or got you killed. A slum where moss clung to stonewalls and bar fights often led to murder.

Levy wouldn't have been able to stomach this place anyway… he growled to himself as he leapt on top of the dilapidated roof of a pub. His predatory senses heightened as he scanned the area. He crept from rooftop to rooftop, blending in perfectly with the ever-lurking shadows. A multitude of noises made his ears twitch as he quickly classified them in his mind, discerning what he needed from background noise. As he closed on a familiar alleyway, he heard something that caught his attention.

"Let me go!" a woman shrieked. Passersby crossed the path without a wink, preferring non-involvement to the possibility of the assailant turning on them. Gajeel remembered a time when he would have just walked past, but recently it seemed he had a complex for saving damsels in distress.

"Shaddup you bar whore," an aggravated and obviously drunk voice replied. Gajeel jumped onto the cobblestone of the alley, making the man flinch as he looked behind him. Gajeel could smell the liquor oozing out of his pores as if he'd just come from taking a bath in alcohol. His lip curled into a snarl and a growl ripped past his lips, causing the two to freeze at the sight of him.

"Eh… whadda ya think yer doin?" the brute yelled, "Can't ya see we need privacy?"

He winked at the girl trapped in his arms and she shuddered in reply, her eyes looking to Gajeel pleadingly. Usually he would have been showier, but at the moment Gajeel was too hungry and irritated to care. Inducing fear into a near unconscious drunkard wasn't exactly at the top of his list of things to do either. He smirked, his fangs flashing in the dark light.

"I don't think your little nymph there agrees," he chuckled darkly.

Realization had donned on the wriggling woman and she was now completely frozen in terror. The drunkard, however, was far to slow to comprehension. Gajeel lunged, the action too fast for their eyes to catch until his claws had reached their destination on the man's throat.

The blood was foul to say the least. He could taste the alcohol that was still very thick in his victim's system and his skin had been grime covered, but a meal it was and it invigorated him nonetheless. He discarded the body haphazardly on the ground, regarding its existence little more than a king would table scraps. He wiped the last drops from his lips and shook them off his fingers in distaste.

"Disgusting…" he growled, licking his fangs. He turned to leave and found himself staring into the terrified eyes of the bargirl. She was shaking under his gaze and he found himself actually feeling bad for making her that way. The man with bad intentions he could kill without batting an eyelash. What was with him and helpless women lately? Rather abruptly, he knelt down besides her, making her flinch away from him. He rolled his eyes.

Kill her.

He felt the pressure hit him, now familiar in his heart. It was like a devil tugging at him but instead of resting on his shoulder it resided in his soul where it could pull stronger strings and make him nothing more than a puppet fighting its master. His vision turned against him, filling his eyes with the delicate texture of her skin and the gentle branching of her veins beneath her skin. Her scent filled his nostrils with the saccharine smell of iron that he had come to recognize with the sweetest of desires. His throat longed for the heat to flow through him.

Kill her.

Despite himself, he found his fingers reaching for her trembling form. He felt like he was on the brink of a dream, lucid and yet not fully understanding his actions. He grasped her shoulders gently and brought her close. He could feel her terrified breath against his face as his eyes bore into her.

Give in to your desire.

He brought his hand up to cup her cheek gently and he felt her skin warm to his touch. He could tell she'd never been touched so gently before and her response was one that surprised him. She sighed against him, as if resigning to her fate.

Kill her.

It was almost erotic to drink from her. Her flesh was soft and yielding and she didn't struggle in his grasp. When his fangs had punctured her skin she hadn't moved, her only response a quiet gasp. It wasn't rage that gripped him as her life slowly drifted away, but a sincere calm. He had finally given in and it was so much more beautiful than the struggle to fight it. The voice was fading as he fed. It was as if the bloodshed was enough to quell its tongue.

Give in to your desire.

Give in.

Give.

In.