A/N Thank you 'Greedy reader' for your review. I had already planned the ending for this story, seeing as I was also dissatisfied with the ending of the book and movie. So, Yes. I do accept your challenge.

Trigger warning: Major death scenes for multiple characters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy or MGM.

Myka was raging as she rushed down the street. Her only rational thought was to get as far away as she could from the woman she thought she trusted.

"Taxi!"

She yelled, waving her arm in the air at the yellow cab, only to have herself jumping back on the curb as it sped by, blaring its horn.

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, rubbing at the bite on her arm as she raced to another cab that had parked across the street. She slammed the door, cursing as someone else claimed the cab.

Helena smirked to herself as she tidied up the living room where they had their last altercation. 'Their first fight', she chuckled to herself. All her former loves had reacted in similar fashion; confused, afraid, them blinded by fear as they all tried to escape in some form or fashion as the transformation began its steely grip over them.

Helena could feel the raging hunger building in the doctor, her willing away any and all transportation that the young woman tried to garner.

Myka raced to the payphone on the corner of the street, her fingers missing the slot a few times as they shook violently at trying to put the coin in the slot. She wiped at her brow with her arm, her curls now wild, sweat soaked and harshly curled as she tried her utmost to dial the number.

"Yes, Hello. I would like to speak to Dr. Pete Lattimer," Her voice unsteady as she listened to his secretary, "No, I already tried him at our apartment," Myka's hand gripped the side, her other shaking the receiver against her ear.

"No, he can't call me back, I'm at a booth," Myka's words coming out in an almost panic as she tried to steady her violent craving. Her eyes blown wide, sweat stinging them as it rolled down her furrowed brow. "No, never mind … yeah, I'll try him later. Never mind," she ranted as she slammed the receiver down. Only to immediately pick it up at its ringing.

Only a buzz and empty dial tone was heard, her glazed green eyes then shooting to the image of Helena looking up at her. She blinked, staring agape at the image she thought she saw.

"Say, Lady. What about it?" A greasy-haired man standing near caused her jump, then slamming the receiver down again, her forehead resting against it as she tried to control her shaking. Myka looked up; only empty space was had at where she thought she saw Helena near the old oak tree.

"Yeah lady, how about it?" The other man then followed, Myka's eyes wide, shocked at the medallion around his neck. His fingers toyed with it as her eyes grew wider, Myka then sprinting off; swearing it was the Unke Helena had given her, her fingers gripping then around her own that hung around her sweat-stained blouse.

"Crazy fucking junkie," The other man laughed, cigarette between his fingers as the other young man toyed at the crucifix around his neck.

...

Helena held the curtain back, watching from her second floor Brownstone as Myka approached, walking down the rain slick road instead of the sidewalk. The young woman had wrapped her rain coat around herself, arms in a death grip around her waist. Knuckles turned white at the harsh grip. A car horn blared, causing Myka to jump against a parked car, her head then falling against the roof of the car. Her shoulders slumped at the realization of where her boot clad feet had lead her.

Helena let the white curtain fall away, her face turning somber as she rushed down towards the door. Myka stood before the ornate, solid barrier, sighing, her head bowed in submission. Her will was broken, her body screaming for what, she hadn't the first clue. She wiped hard at her cheek with the heel of her palm, tears and sweat now indistinguishable as she studied her boot tips.

The door opened, not a word was spoken as a wanton need compiled her to move inside the spider's den. Helena knew this was the tipping point, the hunger becoming all-consuming as she ran her fingers through sweat laden locks. Sickly sweat leaden ringlets curled around her fingers, the push of the all-consuming need to feed drew a sharp breath from the vampire.

Helena had lead Myka to the bedroom, her eyes downcast as she undressed her soon to be mate. Her heart skipping a beat at Myka's pleads of what was happening to her.

"I'm going to bring something to you. Someone, who can fill your hunger," Helena's voice was distant, but reassuring as it found its way through Myka's haze. Lowering her sunglasses, the need to see and feel those green eyes upon her, Myka's fingers brushed against the scarf Helena was wearing. The soft, comforting words brushed at her cheek, her head turning to meet the worried but secure voice. Their lips brushing gently together, Helena pushing all her love against the trembling mouth that could only utter a pitiful plea of release from the hell that was consuming her body.

The black, nondescript car Helena had procured, with some influence and a pint or two of manipulation, pulled up to the seeder side of Broadway. A young, seemly disease free man approached, Helena rolling down the window, holding two fingers up. The young hustler smiled and jumped into the car. Helena smiled as her mind's eye focused on the calming breaths Myka was releasing, if, albeit, just for a brief moment.

"Not long, my Love. Her words pushing into Myka's heart.

"Help yourself to a drink," Helena was saying as she removed her gloves, her fingers then pressing the control. The wet bar spinning on cue, the young hustler's eyes widen at the premium bottles that beckoned toward him.

...

"Hello? Dr Schrader? This is Dr Lattimer calling again in regards to Dr Sarah Roberts," Pete was saying as he fumbled for a club soda, his hand falling on the bottles of Irish beer Myka was so fond of. His fingers stilling for a brief second on the neck of the dark liquid. The beep from the answering machine causing him to jump.

"Uhh, yeah, if you could please get back with me … thanks," Pete hanging the phone up. He then twisted the top of the pop off, his eyes darting to a crumpled paper near the phone. A Park avenue address was written in Myka's handwriting.

"Wells," he hissed against the lip of the club soda bottle.

...

The young hustler grabbed at the premium bottle of vodka, his back against the bookshelf, spitting his gum in the air as he poured a long draw, watching the woman exit the room. He slugged down the first glass, wandering around the lavish room, thick fingers gripping the neck of the bottle, thinking his ship had finally come in.

His curiosity got the better of him as he spied the ornate elevator, glass in hand, his finger pressed the button.

White curtains bellowed softly as Helena approached the bed, removing the last of her disguise as she bent over the bed, her fingers slick from the sweat that laced those wild curls. Myka's eyes rolled back, giving up on focusing, her shaking fingers gripped at the pale wrist as soft lips pressed a reassuring serenity against them.

"Helloooo?"

Helena's face contorted at the shrill sound of dinner that rang up from the staircase. "Soon, my, Love." she whispered against chapped lips, a limp hand clutching at her, trying to draw the beating vein that reverberated in her head closer to her lips.

"Dinner awaits," Helena whispered against Myka's lips as she drew away.

Helena was in Hunt mode after she kissed her Myka, knowing just what she needed. She drew back, watching as the elevator stop. The hustler looking, not seeing anything of interest, he pressed the third floor.

The floor that held her heart.

Helena quickened up the stairs, the thrill of the hunt had begun. Nothing was to deter her from nursing her mate. Her mind focused, pushing down the incessant cries of hunger from Myka, her lips curling over white teeth as the thunder of the young man's pulse filled her ears.

The lift halted at the third floor, the young hustler then gulping down the drink before shaking hands opened the steel curtain door.

"Too easy," Helena smirked to herself as she rushed the gate, her blade already unsheathed as she clutched the soft, exposed throat, her blade piercing the carotid as she shoved the soft, limp body against the back of her elevator. Her elbow pressing the second floor as she lifted diner up off his feet.

"Myka?" reverberating in her head, the slow echo of her name drew her from the bed. All strength, all her being, was shaking. She willed herself up off the bed, the incessant cries of her name pounded into her skull. Myka ran a shaky hand through her wet, wild curls as she gripped the handrail of the balcony to steady her convulsing body. The soft clink of her Unke reverberated against the old, oak banister. Her eyes widen at the scene below her as she clutched at her stomach, the hunger was a deafening strangle that racked her very soul.

Helena was on her knees, her head shaking violently over the exposed mid drift of a young man; "Myka!" her voice laden, her words almost jumbled as a piece of was once a human hung at the corner of her mouth.

Myka was trying her best to maintain any semblance of dignity, her green eyes flashing for a microsecond, her tongue tracing at the corner of her mouth at the meal Helena had laid before her. No, wait … he was someone's son, a human with thoughts and feelings, Myka's nails splitting as she gripped the banister, her stomach turning at what Helena had laid before her.

Myka rushed back to the bedroom, her failing at her muddled thoughts, "I have to get away," her body failing her as she tried to find her clothes, the heading, the long, drawn satisfaction of a meal filled Myka's thoughts.

"I can't," Myka whispered into the throw rug, her fingers digging, her body gasping as she tried to claw her way out the window.

"Stop fighting your true nature," the mantra was defined as Helena had first suspected with Myka, a blood lust, unsatisfied. Her mind snapping at Myka's last vestiges of humanity as she then leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed under her breasts as she held back long forgotten tears of sympathy.

"Why have you placed such a wanton need for those in this world?" Helena questioned, her espresso eyes searching for the forest green that surely would melt her heart.

She shuddered at the swell of humanity that crashed over her. Her mate, her Myka, was clawing at the last straws of her humanity. Her eyes hurting, stinging at something that was deathly wrong… the fight, the clawing at saving what vestiges of 'being human' refused to release its grip from Myka.

Helena raked her hand over her cheek, her smile fading with the last stroke of blood from her lips. She squared her shoulders, knowing she had to be strong, for Myka, for them.

Helena clicked the lock shut on the door as the echo of the front door alarm rang through their home. 'Their home' she smiled, glad she had the foresight to transverse all her accumulation over to a non-descript research foundation in the time Myka had 'needed' to find herself.

Helena smiled, her soulless black eyes meeting her reflection as she dried her hands, her thumb wiping away the last trickle of blood from her lips.

"Yes?" Helena knowing damn well who had darkened her door at this hour. "Neanderthal," she spat out under breath as she tried to indulge Myka's needed meal.

"Lattimer, Doctor Pete Lattimer," his voice strained as his eyes darted to the camera outside the door.

"I am a friend of Myka Bering's. She didn't come home or meet up with her appointment," Pete dipping his head, the desperation in his voice was nauseating to Helena.

"She didn't come home and missed an appointment and I am worried"

Pete's eyes lit up in surprise as the buzzer sounded. The lock clicking as he made his way in. He was taken aback by the woman before him, in any other text; he would have teased Myka, pleading like a horny teenager for them, all three, in bed.

Myka's body was held still in a fetal position, her blood lust was convulsing, her eyes damping and flinching at every random thought. Helena, had chosen to release her hold over what little sanity held firm over Myka, at that very moment when Pete entered the bedroom. Helena, holding her stomach, refused to let sway her thoughts and feelings… "No, this one is hers" Helena sighed as she pushed herself away from the door.

...

"Lattimer," Pete mumbled as he heard the door click behind him.

"I was just worried," his eyes never leaving the stained oak floor.

"I am afraid she is not well," Helena doing her best to sound sincere and worried.

"Really?" Pete mumbled. "And where is she?" his finger thumping at the inside of his pocket as his eyes searched over her shoulder.

"I am afraid she is quite ill, Dr Lattimer," Helena letting the concern wash over him.

"Yeah? Which floor?" Pete was mumbling as he raced up the staircase.

"Second door on your left," Helena trying her best to repress her grin, her eyes darting to the man that raced up the stairs. Helena knew that if there was any chance of her mate bonding with her. That, she, Myka, had to end whatever tether she had to this world.

...

Helena sat back after pouring a hefty drink, her lips curling as she blocked all sight to Myka. She, Helena, needed to know that her mate was hers and hers only. If Myka took that man's life force, they would be bound as 'one'.

And what a magnificent choice Myka would make . Her beauty was only matched by her intelegents. If anyone could solve this mystery and prolong her mate. Myka was the 'one'.

Helena sighed with melancholy as she latched the door closed behind her. She knew Myka had to make her choice.

"What is this?" Pete mumbled as he reached over, his heart in his throat as Myka was in a fetal position, her hunger releasing all pretenses as she grabbed at her stomach.

"Hey, hey ... hey?" Pete whispered as he wrapped Myka in his arms.

Myka drew her eyelids in a harsh blink, her fingers tugging at his collar as he sat on the bed.

"What's going on?" he kept whispering as he tugged Myka against him.

"NO!" Myka shouted as she tried to push Pete away.

"GO!" she yelled, what little strength she had, she tried to push.

"I got you," Pete kept whispering against the shell of her ear. Her one hand came up, an unearthly strength pushing him back.

Helena growled as she stopped herself just before the door. The knob bending in her grip as she felt the war, the battle of love for this man that waged in Myka. She drew in a shaky breath as she felt the battle ebbing inside of her doctor.

She sighed, knowing Myka needed to find the hunter within herself. She padded silently down the stairs. The soft hue of the Irish whiskey played at her glass. Her eyes lifted as the chandelier rattled from the slam of the man's body unto the floor.

Helena closed her eyes, the warm liquid washing over her lips, her sighing as her mind's eyes met that vision of her love's first taste of prey. The life draining from the man into her very self. Her head thrown back, the gasp of air, the well of longing, the satisfaction of her Myka finally finding her true self. Myka's body was shaking as the blood coursed through her.

She grinned at the loud thump from the ceiling above her. She raised her glass, sipping the god awful Irish whiskey she knew she would have to endure soon.

…

Myka cracked one eye, her face buried in the pillow as the soft rustle of what was left of Pete was shoved, unceremoniously into the black bag. The slight pop of her bad shoulder, now not hurting as her body hummed a different release.

Myka sighed, burying her face into the soft downy feather as Helena divested the last of her mortal coil to this earth.

"He was a decent person," Myka's sobs muffled.

"If you insist, so shall it be," Helena's voice trailing off from the room. Dragging the black body bag behind her.

"I shall await you," Helena's voice but a mere wisp.

Helena was unsure of what she felt. Myka, unknowing, had blocked her mind's eye after the turn. Helena almost felt hopeless at not knowing of what thoughts graced Myka's soul.

Helena sat at the piano, but no notes were had. Her smile brighten as she felt Myka enter the room. The soft, grey top was stained crimson. The gate in her walk was not unnoticed as Myka entered the room.

Helena closed the lid to the piano. Her eyes never meeting her love's as she poured them a drink.

"It wasn't that bad?" Helena asked, watching the beauty nod her head, a shy smile spreading across her lips.

"To us," Helena cheered as she clinked their glasses, her inner self on heightened alert as she watched Myka nod to her, setting both glasses down, Myka gently kissed Helena.

"I hope, one day. You come to love me as much as I love you," A softness of an almost plea was heard as Myka felt a boldness rise up. The shy doctor was left in the burning embers along with what was left of Pete, of her old life.