734 A.D. Lithianon, England

I was running in the deep of the forest. My black robes were waving behind me, continually making effort to trip me. The speed of my run caused my hood to slip off of my raven hair. I had narrowly escaped the wraith of the townsfolk. It was my turn to give proof that I wasn't evil, yet at the same time, I would risk my life. It was my turn to break the bonds of this treacherous curse put upon my grandmother. I could show my mother my bravery. Little did I know, it was not my bravery that my mother would see.

Nearly tripping over a jutted out log, I came to the clearing. I cleared my mind of all that was running wild inside, and I took a deep breath, letting my fangs jut out. I smelled human blood somewhere in the woods. A turned around in the middle of the clearing, smelling the air. The blood was fresh, a familiar scent that I was soon to acquire. Perhaps this would be my last taste of fresh, human blood. I could sense the blood nearing the clearing. Any human would not be able to see on this new moon night, but I was cursed with nocturnal vision which aided me during the Witching Hours. A dark figure began to emerge from the trees, opposite from the path I had taken to reach the clearing. He glanced up at me, hazel eyes boring into mine. I immediately recognized him as Antony, my lover. I felt my eyes flash red as I yearned for his flesh blood. I could not kill him, that was not the mission here.

Antony stalked closer to me; I stood my ground, proud and tall. I could see in his eyes that he was nervous. I didn't blame him. He had right to be nervous, he knew what would happen, he had had this occurrence numerous times. I, on the other hand, was quite frankly, clueless. Wrapped in his cloak was something hidden. It was not visible to my eye, but I knew what lied in the black fabric. My fate. Resting in his hands, literally. I took a deep breath, fighting the temptation to bite his neck. He stepped up to me, matching my posture. His skin seemed pale underneath his midnight blue cloak.

"I-I'm sorry," Antony spoke. His eyes narrowed, looking into mine. I could sense his apologetic nature. But this was his job, and the one way to rid of the curse. I simply nodded.

His hand reached into his cloak, pulling out my fate. A long wooden stake was grasped tightly in his hands. Myth has it, that this was the one object that vampires feared, but this was for the good of my daughters to come. I took another deep breath, exhaling my nervousness and fears. Antony pulled it up, over his head, preparing to thrust it into my left pap. The muscles in his arm tensed, as did his face. My head swarmed with a wisp of old thoughts, new thoughts, memories. I couldn't get them to leave, they were taking over.

Antony came down with a forceful stab. He barely touched my chest when he stopped. The stake tumbled out of his hand and fell onto the dirt with a thud. The both of us met eyes, then looked down at the wooden stake that blended with the forest surroundings. Antony looked up and met eyes with mine. Then, he flashed a hopeless look and turned around and sped out of the clearing. I was alone, the curse had not been lifted. I was still breathing, thinking, living. I hoped, for my daughter, that this was not my only chance.