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Part 1 ~Alice~
I open my eyes. I can't remember where I am, or why I am here, or even who I am. Slowly, I sit up, taking inventory of my surroundings. I can tell that I am in a desert. The moon is just rising over the hilltops, bathing the ground in a weird glow. I think back, trying to remember why I am here. What do I remember? I remember a pit of darkness, and before that?
Pain.
Pain like I could never have imagined. Pain I didn't think I would have been able to survive. The thought makes my stomach roll, so I hastily think back further.
Wisps are coming back now, like clouds drifting across my vision, giving me bits of information. There was a motorcycle ride, and then some men. There were two of them I think, and they caused the pain. They toyed with me, shoving me around. My arm broke, I screamed, and then…No, my mind was playing tricks. It had to be, because why would they bite me? I touch my neck in disbelief, but sure enough there are scabs where fangs would go. But then…they hadn't seemed human anyway. There was too much power and grace behind their movements. The moved like great cats, their teeth flashing in the meager light as they laughed at me.
It's all too much. I can't understand it, and I'm not positive I want to. It's too horrible. Another thought comes to me, through the haze. I have to get home. How long have I been lying out here? The moon is rising, but last time I saw it, it was fully risen. That means I've been out her for at least 24 hours! Mama must be worried sick.
I stand up, and I notice my arm isn't broken anymore. I can't have imagined it breaking, but there's no way I could have been out here long enough for it to heal. It's not even sore.
I feel a desperate need to get out of the desert now, so I run, the arm forgotten. I don't notice until later that I am too fast. I just felt the urge to run, so I do, following an instinct I can't explain.

It's late when I come to my farm. A light is in the window, giving off a comforting glow. I run up, flinging the door open. I try to go in, but something stops me. It is an invisible wall, like glass more clear than any I have ever seen. Mama and Pa look up, and Mama cries out. "Alice! Baby, where've ye been? Come in!"
The barrier vanishes suddenly, and I run through the door. A wave of senses bombard me, and for a moment I feel sick. The smell of their dinner, cornbread and beans, is an undertone. I can smell Pa's cologne, even though he sits on the other side of the room. Mama smells like flowers. Faintly, I smell the barn, cows and pigs jammed together. The light makes me cringe, for it is too bright. I hear a fly buzzing on a window and Mama's ragged breathing. Then I smell it.
Blood
Strong and sweet, and thick, it's the most tempting, irresistible substance I have ever come in contact with. A feeling of uncontrollable desire overwhelms me and I cannot stop myself. I try to stop, but the breath I take only makes it worse. It is only now that I realize it is the first breath I have taken since I awoke.
Mama steps forward, putting her hand on my shoulder, clearly concerned. I grab her wrist, and I feel her pulse, slow and steady beneath my hand.
I tear her to pieces, and drink of her blood. It is beautiful, rich, with traces of cinnamon. Pa runs forward, looking at me with horror and disgust, and I turn on him. His blood is thinner, but with a different flavor. The blood overcomes me and I lose all sense of myself. By the time I am able to think, they lay dead on the ground, so mangled they are unrecognizable.
I stand trembling, a snarl on my lips. What I have done catches up to me, and for a moment I am horrified. The repentance is short-lived and stronger is a mad hunger for more. Unable to stand it, I turn and run, out into the night.

Part 2 ~Mark~
She was starving when I found her, beyond reason. It is not uncommon for a young one to lose control and massacre an entire village, but she is different. Usually it is easy to track someone, but her path of destruction is strangely small. Just the old couple two months ago, and a junkie several weeks after that. She couldn't evade us forever though, and we tracked her down.
She sees me, and her mouth forms into a feral snarl. She seems to be analyzing me, unusual for a newborn. I meet her gaze, unflinching, even though I can see weeks of pain and confusion and hunger battling in her eyes. She is beautiful, even though her hair is in tangles and her clothes are in shreds. Her gaze lingers at my waist, where I have a sword in ready view, and at my armored hands. And then she turns and runs.

I corner her in an alleyway in the darkest part of town. She turns, realizing that there is no escape, and I start forward. She is going to die, and I see in her eyes that she realizes it. I am they hunter, and she the prey. As it is with all of her kind, the only fight she will lose is one she fights with me. The one that kills her.
She is panting, her eyes wild. For a moment the hunger burns in her features bright enough that I almost feel her pain, that wild instinct that drives her beyond reason. It is only for a moment though, and then I draw my sword, and the light glints off it lethally. I thrust, and she dodges quickly, kicking back at me. I bring the sword up in a crescent and she throws her arm up protectively.
"Wait!" She cries, and I pull back slightly, still on guard. "Before I die, please tell me, what am I?"
I cannot keep a note of disgust out of my tone when I reply. "Vampire."
She nods. "I thought so." Her voice is light and even, well cultured. "Please forgive me for running back there. It was what my instinct believed to be correct."
I fight a ridiculous urge to smile. "Your instinct was right."
She nods, and then her foot flies out, knocking me on to the ground. I throw my sword up defensively, slicing her from torso to the bottom of her chin. She stumbles back, clutching her middle, and my sword flashes as I deal a deathblow. Her head is severed from her body, and she crumbles into dust before my eyes.
I turn away without a backward glance. This is my job, to rid the world of those who will take the life from my companions. But I realize as I walk away, that even humans, who cling so desperately to life, will crumble into dust eventually. Perhaps everything is meaningless, and killing is just a vampire's way of trying to matter. What is ours?

Description
Part 1 ~Alice~
I open my eyes. I can't remember where I am, or why I am here, or even who I am. Slowly, I sit up, taking inventory of my surroundings. I can tell that I am in a desert. The moon is just rising over the hilltops, bathing the ground in a weird glow. I think back, trying to remember why I am here. What do I remember? I remember a pit of darkness, and before that?
Pain.
Pain like I could never have imagined. Pain I didn't think I would have been able to survive. The thought makes my stomach roll, so I hastily think back further.
Wisps are coming back now, like clouds drifting across my vision, giving me bits of information. There was a motorcycle ride, and then some men. There were two of them I think, and they caused the pain. They toyed with me, shoving me around. My arm broke, I screamed, and then…No, my mind was playing tricks. It had to be, because why would they bite me? I touch my neck in disbelief, but sure enough there are scabs where fangs would go. But then…they hadn't seemed human anyway. There was too much power and grace behind their movements. The moved like great cats, their teeth flashing in the meager light as they laughed at me.
It's all too much. I can't understand it, and I'm not positive I want to. It's too horrible. Another thought comes to me, through the haze. I have to get home. How long have I been lying out here? The moon is rising, but last time I saw it, it was fully risen. That means I've been out her for at least 24 hours! Mama must be worried sick.
I stand up, and I notice my arm isn't broken anymore. I can't have imagined it breaking, but there's no way I could have been out here long enough for it to heal. It's not even sore.
I feel a desperate need to get out of the desert now, so I run, the arm forgotten. I don't notice until later that I am too fast. I just felt the urge to run, so I do, following an instinct I can't explain.

It's late when I come to my farm. A light is in the window, giving off a comforting glow. I run up, flinging the door open. I try to go in, but something stops me. It is an invisible wall, like glass more clear than any I have ever seen. Mama and Pa look up, and Mama cries out. "Alice! Baby, where've ye been? Come in!"
The barrier vanishes suddenly, and I run through the door. A wave of senses bombard me, and for a moment I feel sick. The smell of their dinner, cornbread and beans, is an undertone. I can smell Pa's cologne, even though he sits on the other side of the room. Mama smells like flowers. Faintly, I smell the barn, cows and pigs jammed together. The light makes me cringe, for it is too bright. I hear a fly buzzing on a window and Mama's ragged breathing. Then I smell it.
Blood
Strong and sweet, and thick, it's the most tempting, irresistible substance I have ever come in contact with. A feeling of uncontrollable desire overwhelms me and I cannot stop myself. I try to stop, but the breath I take only makes it worse. It is only now that I realize it is the first breath I have taken since I awoke.
Mama steps forward, putting her hand on my shoulder, clearly concerned. I grab her wrist, and I feel her pulse, slow and steady beneath my hand.
I tear her to pieces, and drink of her blood. It is beautiful, rich, with traces of cinnamon. Pa runs forward, looking at me with horror and disgust, and I turn on him. His blood is thinner, but with a different flavor. The blood overcomes me and I lose all sense of myself. By the time I am able to think, they lay dead on the ground, so mangled they are unrecognizable.
I stand trembling, a snarl on my lips. What I have done catches up to me, and for a moment I am horrified. The repentance is short-lived and stronger is a mad hunger for more. Unable to stand it, I turn and run, out into the night.

Part 2 ~Mark~
She was starving when I found her, beyond reason. It is not uncommon for a young one to lose control and massacre an entire village, but she is different. Usually it is easy to track someone, but her path of destruction is strangely small. Just the old couple two months ago, and a junkie several weeks after that. She couldn't evade us forever though, and we tracked her down.
She sees me, and her mouth forms into a feral snarl. She seems to be analyzing me, unusual for a newborn. I meet her gaze, unflinching, even though I can see weeks of pain and confusion and hunger battling in her eyes. She is beautiful, even though her hair is in tangles and her clothes are in shreds. Her gaze lingers at my waist, where I have a sword in ready view, and at my armored hands. And then she turns and runs.

I corner her in an alleyway in the darkest part of town. She turns, realizing that there is no escape, and I start forward. She is going to die, and I see in her eyes that she realizes it. I am they hunter, and she the prey. As it is with all of her kind, the only fight she will lose is one she fights with me. The one that kills her.
She is panting, her eyes wild. For a moment the hunger burns in her features bright enough that I almost feel her pain, that wild instinct that drives her beyond reason. It is only for a moment though, and then I draw my sword, and the light glints off it lethally. I thrust, and she dodges quickly, kicking back at me. I bring the sword up in a crescent and she throws her arm up protectively.
"Wait!" She cries, and I pull back slightly, still on guard. "Before I die, please tell me, what am I?"
I cannot keep a note of disgust out of my tone when I reply. "Vampire."
She nods. "I thought so." Her voice is light and even, well cultured. "Please forgive me for running back there. It was what my instinct believed to be correct."
I fight a ridiculous urge to smile. "Your instinct was right."
She nods, and then her foot flies out, knocking me on to the ground. I throw my sword up defensively, slicing her from torso to the bottom of her chin. She stumbles back, clutching her middle, and my sword flashes as I deal a deathblow. Her head is severed from her body, and she crumbles into dust before my eyes.
I turn away without a backward glance. This is my job, to rid the world of those who will take the life from my companions. But I realize as I walk away, that even humans, who cling so desperately to life, will crumble into dust eventually. Perhaps everything is meaningless, and killing is just a vampire's way of trying to matter. What is ours?