((Please note that I do not know any old English terms for what might have been around in the late 1700's, so please excuse the fact that I wrote all of this in modern English. I did do some research on this as far as clothing styles, housing styles, and common names of the time. I hope that it is sufficient enough for you guys. Don't forget to also read and review. Constructive Criticism: Wanted!))

Chosen

When most people think of my kind they picture evil beings with an insatiable lust for blood. Most humans do not know that we are not evil and that we have homes and jobs just like everyone else in the world does. In fact, most humans fear us because we are creatures of the unknown. I was once one of you pathetic animals, err, humans. This is my story of how I came to be turned in the year 1783, which was the end of the American Civil War. I know my story may be a bit short, but hopefully it serves its purpose all the same. My story begins on the day of April fifteenth, 1783, during the same time that congress ratified peace with Britain.

"Desdemona, we are running late for church, please hurry it up already!" My mother, Joy, called me from the porch at our French Colonial styled home.

I knew I was late, but putting on the Mauna, a loose dress that was draped over the shoulders and worn open in the front, revealing a coordinating petticoat, would take some time. The front part of the dress was pinned back with buttons or ribbons and featured a train, the length of which was determined by my social class rank. When I finally got the dress on in the proper lady-like way, I headed out to the carriage where my parents were waiting for me.

"Desdemona, what have we told you about being late for the Lord's hour? Do you think this will go unnoticed by the parish, the priest? I wouldn't want them accusing us of something as horrid as witchcraft! Now, get in the carriage already, so we won't be any later for church."

My father, a balding blue-eyed man who wore a beaver fur hat to hide his baldness, ushered me at once into the small carriage, where my mother glared at me with an utter look of sheer disappointment. However, she shook off her disappointment quickly, and maintained a lady-like look as we neared the church. Little did I know that after the boring, yet, completely necessary lecture for everyone to not to suspect one another of witchcraft, I would find myself in trouble once more.

Trust me it wasn't like I wanted to disappoint my parents, the parish, or God himself for that matter, but sometimes life just happened like today for instance. The heavy clump, clump off the horses' hooves, as we traveled to church, did nothing to cover up my mother and father's scolding, screams. I tried covering my dainty hands over my ears, but I knew that it wouldn't matter. In the church, being late for church especially during the Lord's hour was the worst thing anyone could do. That was what I had done not only making me late, but my folks as well.

The preacher, a balding, heavy weight man whose breath smelled constantly of liquor and alcohol, went on and on about the wrath of the Lord, making me more board, and more board by the second. I stared at the white, polished walls that smelled constantly of dust and old paint, and tried to concentrate on what the preacher was rambling about. I shifted in my hard, uncomfortable bench, and got scolded for doing so by my mother, for it was considered bad manners to not sit still during church. It was considered extreme bad manners when someone left the church during the middle of service.

I didn't mean to leave, but for some reason it was like the 'Almighty was calling me outside. The second I stood up every single person- women, children, babies, and men, stared at me in horror as if I had grown two heads or turned into the devil himself.

"Huh? Oh, no, she didn't? Did she?" The silent whispers, some filled with curiosity and others horror, disdain, or utter disbelief, filled the tiny church room. My own mother tried to scold me as I shoved open the heavy wooden, almost barn-like doors, of the church. Dim light flooded in the room, and seemed to intensify the anger, curiosity, and disdain; on some of the faces of the people I had known my whole entire life.

A soft breeze ruffled my dark, ebony shaded hair as I walked slowly out into the dull, bleak, gray morning skies. Deep Pine tree forests surrounded the church yard and surrounding farmlands. Golden fields seemed to be an overly dull grayish yellow for today was an unusually dark, stormy, and rainy day. Strange sounds of horses clump, clumped ever closer to me as the morning drew slowly onward.

A strange man dressed only in a simple, brown woolen shirt and woolen jeans, and who was barefooted, drove his Appaloosa horses, with their dark bodies with small light speckles, to a sudden stop beside me. I knew I should be freaked that this man was also not in church like he should be, but instead I was intrigued by the man's beauty.

His dark auburn hair was pulled back into an almost Indian styled pony tail, his skin was as white as the polished marble I had never seen, but have heard about all my life, and his eyes were a beautiful cerulean color. When he spoke to me, his voice was the most enticing, I could do nothing but stare wide-eyed in utter awe.

"Hello, miss, how are you this fine day? Surely, a beautiful thirteen year old like you shouldn't be this far away from home, and barefoot I might add. Surely you are not a witch, my lady, or are you? You're not worshipping the devil I hope?"

Sure, I might have wondered a bit too far, but I still thought this man was beyond comparison. I didn't know what he might want with me, but I was far too curious to leave like I should have.

"No, of course not, anyway what are you? You are way too pallid to be human, so what are you? Some kind of demon I bet?"

I glared at this man with both fear and amazement, but if this man was a demon... The Lord did not like demons, and so unfortunately I would have to kill him as the law stated, 'Though shalt not suffer a witch to live.'

"I don't think so, but your kind might call me a witch, but in reality I am something of a deeper, darker, and more bloodthirsty variety. My dear child, I exist as a vampire. Child, you may not know it yet, but you are one of the Chosen, "his sweet, musical, seductive sounding words startled me beyond anything I could ever imagine possible.

And, yet, my worst fears had been confirmed. The townspeople might say I am too good for my own good, but even I could find no real compassion for this creature that tricked others with his own beauty.

"I will not be one of the devil's handy workers. The Bible always said that women were meant to be..." the strange man cut me off by placing one of his sharp claws on my lips, and this was more than enough to make me silent.

"Dear child, do be quiet please as I sink my fangs in you, and change you from a human to a vampire permanently. You will age, but at a much slower pace than humans. To give you a little estimate by the 21st century, if the world hasn't ended by then, you should look as though you are merely seventeen or eighteen years of age." The strange man's smooth, velvet voice hypnotized me to the point that I hardly registered what the fanged and red- eyed man had said.

My heart fluttered eighty miles a 'minute as he drew his perfectly white teeth ever closer to my neck. I cursed this demon for making me feel as though I loved him, needed him, and wanted him to pierce his fangs into my skin. When the vampire bit into my flesh it was as if his venom shot out endorphins of pure pleasure making me want more. Yet, too soon it was over, and once again I was pissed at what he had done.

Several seconds later, and my appearance changed from human to what I once thought of as demon, but as I now believe it to be a more powerful being than a mere human. The next few days after being spiked, or rather turned, were the hardest for blood thirst seemed to penetrate my every thought.

After those few days, as I sat with the man Edward in the dark, moonlit, forests, we had perhaps the most significant conversation of my long life.

"Desdemona, you are fully vampire and therefore are no longer a mere, weak, pathetic human child. You shall lead vampires into days of glory in the centuries to follow by turning unsuspecting humans into our kind- one by one. I have fulfilled my duties of Seeker and leader in this world, and now my dear lady it is now time for you to do the same. You must promise me, Desdemona that every month in the coming centuries you shall turn one human and hope that he or she joins your coven. However, if they do not join you, then leave them in the world in the hopes that they will join you in the days the vampires take over." The strange man said as he sprinted off away from my sight, forever. It would only take me a few years to realize the humans had been wrong, for I could love and therefore had a soul.

Several years later I found myself searching for a new charge, and wishing for something that was not likely to become true.

My pack and I consisted of four, older, and grey-haired male vampires; who were centuries older than me, and who had all decided to help vampires get on top. Ricardo had been turned in the twelfth century when he had been forty years of age, and he had light baby blue shaded irises. Donavan was turned in the eleventh century when he was fifty years of age, and he had jewel-like emerald shaded green eyes. Eduardo had been turned in the early sixteen hundreds when he was thirty-nine, and he had non-descriptive brown eyes. Lastly, Mason was turned during the tenth century when he was sixty so no matter what he would always be older than us, and he had sapphire colored irises.

As leader of the covenant, I had decided that night that whomever we rode by first on our Harley Davison motorcycles would be the last victim to be spiked. Unluckily, for the one with the ebony colored hair, and dark brown eyes walking towards a car with a group of kids, she would have to be the one to be spiked. She appeared to be with family, a child with rolls of fat with non-descriptive sandy brown hair and ice blue eyes, asked the sixteen (seventeen?) year old female for help getting a trunk out of the car. The others were tucked away in the white car with the tinted windows when I finally bit the girl and left, so I had not been able to register properly what they had looked like. It was then when they were tucked away inside that I bit the girl, and asked her to join, and she declined the offer. Thus, insisting that she could deal with everything herself. Yeah, right, child! But, nevertheless, I was glad that she refused to be one of the Chosen, which was something I should have done centuries ago, myself. If only I could turn back the clock and reverse back time, so I would have lived a normal life with my parents and loving family, who died without me saying a final goodbye.

The strangest thing that has always stuck out at me about the girl was that she had known what I was before I had bit her. I never did see the girl again, however, and I have never wanted to either.

I sat at the foot of the tombstone that my parent's Joy and Richard had been buried beside. I had never got to say goodbye to them because of the monster I had been turned into. I wanted to weep and cry, but a vampire can cry no tears at all. As day turned into night, I sent a prayer towards the cosmos, and wished that I had never been a vampire at all. No one answered my prayers though leaving me to wonder endlessly for many, more centuries to come.