Author's Note: Random ideas in art class after rereading three Amelia Atwater-Rhodes novels in a row spawned this lovely piece of work. Took me a few hours to complete. Enjoy.

I gasped as I felt his teeth sink into my throat. He didn't let it hurt for more than a second before the sedative in his saliva and his strong mind control pulled me into oblivion, but that second was hell. I felt my skin and the vein as they were pierced. I felt the pull of my blood exiting my throat and entering his mouth.

And then there was bliss. Don't worry. You are in no danger. I heard the words but knew that they weren't being said aloud. He pressed peaceful and kind thoughts into my head. I started to drift away.

But I started to remember that I wasn't in a peaceful place. The edge of my mind kept telling me to struggle, but I kept failing to grasp at what I should be struggling against.

I gasped again. He had shifted and his fangs had torn more of the vein. I felt the slightest bit of pain through the vampire induced paradise, but it was enough to snap me back to reality. This vampire was sucking my blood! My life was going into him!

"Let go of me!" I shouted, opening my eyes just in time to see the surprise cross his bloodlust clouded eyes before he masked the emotion. He pulled away to speak.

"I'm not going to kill you. Don't make me hurt you," he said calmly, ignoring the fact that I was wriggling in his strong, undead arms.

"Then what do you want from me? It's probably been a couple hundred years since you fed without killing!"

Try about a thousand. But you're strong. You show promise. I want you to be one of us. The fact that you're fighting it will make you even stronger. He pressed this all into my mind as he sank his teeth back into my neck.

"I don't want to be one of you!" I shouted even as I began to feel woozy from blood loss. I'd heard about the thirst before. About the people who survived being fed on and later went mad from the thirst. But I never imagined it was this bad. My throat burned. My mouth felt as if it had no moisture left. I would have drunk acid if I had thought it would quench that thirst.

So I don't really fault myself for any of my actions at that point. It was all his fault.

I had known for years that merely being bitten does not make a human turn into a vampire. There would be a lot more vampires if that were true. To make a vampire, the vampire has to almost drain the human. The human then has to drink the vampire's blood until the human falls unconscious and, for lack of a better word, dies.

I struggled feebly as I felt my blood leaving my body. It was so painful, and I was so thirsty. I knew that he wouldn't release me, but I had to keep fighting. I didn't want to become a vampire. A killer.

After what seemed like days, he reluctantly pulled himself away from my neck. He licked his lips as I lay writhing in his arms. I wanted to die so badly, my whole body hurt so much. Then he bit into his own wrist, making himself bleed. "Drink," he said.

I shook my head and weakly pushed the offered wrist away. "No," I protested in a whisper.

"Drink." This time he said it with his mind and out loud. He pushed his bleeding wrist against my lips, and some slipped inside my mouth. The liquid was heaven to my parched throat, and I lost it. I latched onto the source of blood and drank the think, salty liquid. I'd always heard that vampire and witch blood was stronger than human blood, and at that point I didn't doubt it. I felt giddy even as I heard my heart slow down and stop. It hurt, but I just felt the pain dully, as if drunk. And then I died. And as the darkness claimed my vision and mind, one though echoed through what little consciousness I had left: I am damned.

End Note: I know it's kind of short. At this point, it's a one-shot, but I will gladly continue if you guys like it. Please review. I put this on here to prove a point to my friend. The more reviews the better. I hope you liked it!