Summary: Rose, a young vampire, takes it upon herself to save her brother, Mathew from sure death. But she herself, upon returning to her creator, must face her own death in turn. She discovers that everyone has a destiny they must face, its just that whether you can fulfill it that's the hard part.

Author's Note: Ok, this is my first total fiction story. None of it is based on real characters. This is a story that started from an idea of mine, and has now formed into it's own little world of magic and wonder. Basically it is about vampires. If you don't like stories about death, blood, murder, sadness, and romance- then please leave as I don't think you would enjoy this…

Disclaimer: All of the following paragraphs, words, spaces, punctuations, names, places, ideas, etc… belongs to ME!!!! If I catch you using any of the following story in any form without my written or verbal consent I will personally visit you, curse you to oblivion while in the same process of ripping your throat out. And I mean that in the utmost nicest of ways. Please, do not be offended, it's just that I worked for this story, and the people that steal it without my permission don't.

Life in the Form of Death: A Vampire's Story

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

It was the 5th day of mourning of the death of my brother. The grass still dewy and the air still fresh; it seemed a good day to celebrate almost anything, except funerals. Several of his closest friends, family, and admirers had come to watch him be lowered into the fresh earth. I watched as the minister threw holy ash on his coffin while muttering a prayer. He then signaled for the guests to come into the church to recover.

I waited before the last mourner had gone in and closed the door. Slowly, almost catlike, I stepped out from my hiding place and crept across the grass. I slowly walked to the mouth of the grave and looked around for any more people. Seeing none I slid easily into it. The earth, still soft from the rain, made a slight squishing sound as I landed on it barefoot. I stepped to the head of the mahogany coffin and jammed my fingers under the lid. I slowly raised the lid and heaved it off to the side like a rag doll.

My brother still looked as if he was alive, though the village wizard had declared him dead. His cheeks still had the faint flush of blood coursing underneath them as all humans do, his hair was still soft to the touch and had a silky hue, and even his rosy lips were shaped into the faint form of a smile. I lowered my right hand against his chest, and closed my eyes so I could turn my complete focus on my brother. This was a very risky move, but I was willing to chance it just as long as I could make sure my brother's alteration had worked properly.

As in all alterations, such as the one my brother had recently gone through, there are always some hazards. They cannot be avoided or stopped, but only those who are willing to access the risks fully stand a better chance of being successful.

I pressed my palm harder against his chest and paused. I waited a few minutes and then I felt it. My brother's heart had just pulsed once in the space of three minutes. I waited a few minutes more for the second heartbeat before I was completely satisfied.

A small smile formed upon my pale cold lips as I slipped my fingers into his mouth and cracked it delicately open. I slid my index finger underneath his upper right incisor and casually rubbed its tip. It sharpened and slowly grew in length till it was about an inch (give or take a centimeter) long. My brother's transformation was a success.

I slid my finger out of his mouth and pulled him by his shoulders so his head was on my lap. I softly hummed a tune as I raised my left hand's wrist. In a swift delicate movement I tore a gash into my wrist with my sharpened incisors and held the flowing wound to my brother's mouth. Still humming I watched as he started to mechanically swallow the blood that was ebbing from my wound. A few drops slid out from the corners of his mouth, but his tongue caught them before I had a chance to wipe them away.

In many books is describes vampires as blood-thirsty piranhas. In a way, we are, but we do not feed like piranhas, or at least not in the way most people think we feed. We do not dribble blood everywhere when we are feeding, once experienced enough to learn how to feed properly, we are actually very clean. We only become 'piranha-like' when we fall into a blood lust.

He was in a very delicate stage of his new form, a fledgling it is called by many, and he couldn't receive too much or too little blood, or else something fatal could happen to either of us. For example, if he took in too little a sort of primal instinct could take over and he would withdraw into what is called a 'blood lust.' This is just the hunger for more blood until the recipient could not possibly take in anymore. This usually happens when a vampire is near starving, and it cannot be helped.

I had been concentrating on my thoughts so deeply that I had failed to hear the footsteps of a person approach us. This has rarely happened to me, and I simply cannot help it.

"Aye there! What are you doin' lady?" a male voice called out from the direction of the church.

I snapped my head up and looked over the grave's mouth at a bald man swiftly approaching. I chose not to answer him. Faintly I felt some recognition towards this man, but I hadn't realized from where, what, or when I had seen him. This intrigued me, as vampires are known for their unusually photographic memory.

"You isn't a mute are you?" he said chuckling, "Answer me now! What are you doin' in a grave and-"

He stopped mid-step as his eyes comically widened with every passing second. I could tell the fellow was scared scream-less, as his Adams apple bobbed up and down in horror. When I sensed a screech bubbling up in his throat I threw a stone from the grave's bottom with me free hand while simultaneously jamming my other hand harder against my brother's mouth in the hopes that my brother could possibly swallow faster.

I could feel my veins were near empty, but my brother hadn't had enough yet. If I stopped feeding him now he could very possibly fall into a blood lust.

The rock I had threw at him fell upon the intended target with acute accuracy, his open mouth. He was in mid-shriek when the stone lodged itself down into his throat. All that he emitted was a small squeak that reminded me of a baby mouse. His knees gave away, and he fell flat on his face. He rolled over and started clawing at his neck. I knew the rock would prove to be impossible to remove without cutting into the lining of his esophagus.

The dying man sealed his fate the moment he chose to step out of the safety of the church. I had known I didn't have enough blood in me to properly feed my brother, as he was much larger then me. But now I had already found my brother his first victim.

I eased my hand out of my brother's mouth, and forced his head to stay in my lap by gripping his hair as he had lunged at my arm the moment I removed it from his lips. He was very hungry indeed, and more was soon follow. His eyes were now open and he watched my every move. There was no recognition in them, as all his body cared for right now was the delicious liquid known by many as blood, and lots of it.

To a mortal, they may sense a small change in a person who becomes a vampire, but they are usually small things. Such as the individual may move faster then usual, they may seem more attractive (sexier), their eyes always look sort of glazed, but the one thing that is sure to cause attention is the fact that (much like a deer's) a vampire's eyes reflect light. This enables a vampire to see very well in the dark.

My brother had indeed changed. His build had changed a bit, as all vampires do. His body was now free of anything it didn't need, such as fat, and his muscles were more defined. This is usually the reason people find vampires so attractive, it's because the vampires body is at its full potential of what it could have been. I say usually because vampires seem to have an aura about them, a glamorous, seductive, mesmeric sort of aura. Mortals love to flock around vampires; it seems to make them feel more wanted or important, though I shall never know why.

I had held my brother down for long enough, he was starting to struggle and moan for more blood. I dragged him to the lip of the grave, but kept my neck away from him as he lunged at my exposed vein. Grabbing his head, I turned it so he could see the near dead man. I let my brother go, and watched as he lithely sprang out of the grave. He dropped down onto the man, and raised the man's neck to his mouth. Hungrily he bit into the man's neck and slurped down the life giving liquid.

Few people know the real reason of why vampires need blood. A vampire feeds upon mortal blood simply because a vampire would suffocate if left to live without it. Vampire blood lacks hemoglobin, which is the blood molecule that transports oxygen. Basically, a vampire drinks the blood of a human, regains the ability for their blood to transport oxygen, and then can live off the newly drunken blood until the vampire blood breaks the hemoglobin molecules down- which would mean the vampire would then have to feed again.

I watched my brother hungrily feed upon the now life-less body until there wasn't a drop left- the corpse was sucked dry. My brother eased himself off the body and lay upon the wet grass. Feeling he was finished, I jumped out of the grave and walked towards him. I stopped a few feet from him, and sat down.

"Mathew, do you remember who you are?" I asked slowly. Upon becoming a vampire their mortal memories become faded, sometimes are forgotten all-together, or are remembered with time.

He seemed to not hear me, because he didn't react. He just lay there with his eyes closed. But then he opened them, and turned his head towards me. I knew I could have probed his mind to find out what he was thinking, but I chose not, as I had never particularly enjoyed it when my creator read my thoughts. What my brother Mathew thought as he gazed upon the new me I can only imagine. What would he possibly thing of the 'new' Rose? The new pale Rose, her eyes glazed with death, her heart faintly beating, her body as hard as steel. I didn't even know if he remembered me, as it had been five years since my 'death.'. Only faithful time could tell.

"Father…" he muttered as if he had just remembered his language. I waited to see if he would say more, but he closed his eyes and laid his head back upon the cold wet ground.

"What about father?" I cautiously asked. I didn't want to strain him too much, as fledglings tire quickly and are more susceptible to exhaustion.

"Rose…" Mathew said in the same quiet voice. I almost attacked him in glee before I remembered I could still crush him enough to make a simple hug fatal. But I remained the quiet listener as I burst inside with the knowledge that he had not forgotten me.

"That man, that I…" Mathew paused and opened his eyes to gaze into mine, "That man I murdered…. He was…" My brother stopped talking as his face contorted in what looked like pain, and he lay still. Fledglings are still susceptible to emotions, unlike mature vampires.

I needn't have read his mind at all, as the thought burst from his thoughts loud enough for me to hear. I gazed upon the lifeless corpse and closed my eyes.

Was this very bad??? Well, if you want the second chapter up then R&R!!!!! But I'll probably put it up anyway as my brain just keeps flowing Heehee :)