Author's Note: Here's the epilogue--the final update for this story. Its really short but it should still be good.

EPILOGUE

It was an autumn night. Everything was still. Down the cobblestone road in an Italian city was a stout man. He was hurrying to get home. The fall air chilled him, forcing him to draw his coat in tighter.

Salvatore Alamanni was always in a rush to get home whenever night fell. Ever since his brother Aldo was killed, he was a nervous wreck. No one ever found out who killed Aldo. All they found was Aldo's head, which was severed from his body. Ever since then, Salvatore was haunted. No matter which way he turned, he was sure that death was coming for him.

He arrived at his front door. He sighed in relief, glad to be home. Once inside, he smiled to himself. He was safe.

He shut the door and walked into his parlor. He started a fire in the fireplace and sat in his chair. It was late but he was still awake. He decided to do some reading before going to bed. He grabbed his favorite book from a bookshelf and sat down.

When he had finished the first chapter, only a few minutes had passed. He wanted to continue reading but a sudden noise drew his attention. It sounded like a creak in the floorboards.

Salvatore looked up, alarmed. He put the book down in his lap and turned around in his chair, looking behind him. There was nothing there. Deciding that it was just the crackle in the fireplace, he tried to go back to his book but he couldn't concentrate. He had gotten through a paragraph when he saw a shadow pass by.

Salvatore looked up from his book again, surveying the room once more. Once again, there was nothing there. Still, Salvatore was not about to take the chance. He got up and walked toward the bookshelf. Just as he was about to push the book back into place, something rammed into him and knocked him over.

The book flew out of his hands. He landed on his back. The force of his fall and the way he had landed twisted his shoulder out of its socket. He yelled in pain. Then he realized he felt something heavy on top of him. When he looked up, he saw a strange yet familiar being looking back at him.

He saw a pale face, a face that was probably handsome at one time. This face was obviously male and had dark rings underneath his eyes. His long, black hair was wild and pulled back into a disheveled ponytail. His eyes were a dark red.

By the time Salvatore recognized who it was, he couldn't speak. He could barely move. He just shivered in place, staring at the man before him in fear.

Obviously, this man was not human. It was a beast, a horrible beast.

"Do you remember me?" the fiend said, its gaze cold and merciless.

Salvatore knew who it was. Still, he could not believe it. Even if he did, he could not speak.

Still, he was able to say one thing:

"You… you're… vampiros."

A shadow flitted in the background. Salvatore looked. There, he saw another monster. This monster also had pale skin and black hair. As a mortal, it also might've been a handsome man. Unlike the vampire on top of him, though, this demon seemed to stand with an amused smile on his face.

"How does justice feel, Salvatore Alamanni?" he asked. "Do you regret taking the lives of the Lazzari clan? Or, at least, do you feel sympathy for Bartolo the patron and the artist Tonio Morazzi?"

Salvatore nodded eagerly, hoping that the right answer would free him and save his life.

"Please, please, have mercy on me…"

He dared to look in the gaze of the vampire on top of him. However, he saw no mercy in the beast's eyes.

"You don't feel regret," the vampire spoke. "Not yet."

With that said, the vampire sunk his teeth into Salvatore's neck. The vampire pressed into Salvatore's neck and killed the man in seconds. However, it took awhile before the blood could be drunk.

At first, the vampire seemed to be incredibly thirsty. But through sheer willpower, the demon pulled away. All of the blood was spit out.

"No, I can't do this. His blood is filth," the vampire, Vicente, muttered as he threw away Salvatore's body. Behind him, Vitale shook his head, though he still smirked in amusement.

"Don't be so picky," he teased. "Though I will admit that you've learned to have some self-control faster than I expected."

"Not everyone is like you," Vicente muttered scornfully. "Not everyone lives only to feed off other human beings."

Vicente wiped away the blood on his lips. He stood to his feet and stumbled out the door. Vitale followed after him, laughing.

"You say that but you don't mean it. I know what the thirst is like in the beginning. Keep in mind you've only been a demon for a few months—that's when the thirst is at its peak."

Vitale followed Vicente down the road, the moonlight guiding their paths. After awhile, Vitale realized what direction Vicente was taking. He smiled.

"I suppose we still have one more prey to hunt?" Vitale noted. Vicente looked back at him, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, we do," he replied. Already, he felt thirst and hatred overcome him. "Aldo still has one last brother."

Vitale laughed when he remembered Salvatore's corpse. He should've kicked it before they left. As he laughed, his grin showed—his fangs gleaming white. "The bastard won't stand a chance."

"It's a far way off. Let's hurry," Vicente declared. Vitale smiled, not finding a single fault in Vicente's declaration.

"After you."

In seconds, Vicente and Vitale were running through the night at full speed. The wind blew by. Exhilarated, Vitale cackled and Vicente smiled softly in response. The thrill of the night, revenge waiting in the future, the taste of blood on his tongue… Vicente couldn't help but feel jubilant. As the moon shone and the wind blew through his hair, Vicente wondered how he could feel so alive when he didn't even have a soul.

Best of all he knew that his story, as well as Vitale's, was not yet over.

Fin.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read this story. It took me awhile to finish this story and to upload it but I think I'm happy with the ending results.