"What is it, what is wrong?" Rose asked as she stroked her stomach. The colour in Andrew's face drained away from his face as he read a small letter. Married two years with three children, soon to be anyway but he was proud of his two daughters, Amy and Sybil. It was not easy, pretending to love their mother but he did it because he had to, he had no choice but to... to see her heart broken, she was his best friend and he could not do that, even if it meant being with her for as long as he had.

"My father... he is ill" Andrew whispered in disbelief.

"Then you must go... go to him" she whispered.

"I will come straight back once I can" he promised. He touched her cheek romantically, whispering "do not join me"

"Why can I not?" she asked as he smiled a little at his touch.

"If it is serious, I will never be able to forgive myself for putting you or the unborn in harm's way, please my love just stay behind"

"If you are sure" she whispered reluctantly.

"Yes I am sure, rest and do not stay on your feet too much" he ordered before he took his horse and left. He galloped to his father's house through the wretched rain, pushing the door open and running to his father's room. Christopher lay there, a grey ghost, horrifically grey. Andrew held his hand as his father struggled to find the strength and energy to smile a little at his son. Edith, his mother stood, glaring as usual but Andrew just ignored her.

"I am glad you came, my son" Christopher whispered weakly. He glared at his wife dressed as a nun and ordered her to leave with a simple hand gesture. She reluctantly left as Christopher smiled at his son; reaching for his hand he whispered "your children, they are beautiful"

"Thank you, father, tell me, what has the physician said to you, when will you get better?" Andrew asked quickly, passing Christopher a handkerchief as he wiped the blood off of Christopher's face slowly and gently, watching as the white suddenly turned red, layers and layers of red blood. He had never seen his father ill, never as ill as he was at least. He looked as if death was coming for him, knocking on his door, calling him to join him in Heaven.

"I sent him away when he told me... consumption. I know I am not long for this world, my boy"

"You cannot leave me!"

"Yes... I thought you would forbid me but I have to go.... I know it. Prudence... I saw her... days ago... she is well. I know you do not like your marriage but I... I know you did it for her... for Prudence. Listen to me, there is something, something I have never told anyone before"

"What is it father?"

"I must tell you... the truth, my son... about your mother. She sold Prudence, to pay her debts she was going to sell her... when she got engaged, I was blamed... your mother offered you instead to their daughter"

"What, she did this? She is the reason I was made to marry... no... why would she do that?!"

"Because she is that person... I am so sorry" he whispered as he closed his eyes, sleeping. Andrew could hear him breathing but in the next few days he was as ill. His wife was informed, his sister too. A priest, the same one he saw visited, he visited often.

Andrew lay in his old bed, being nursed by a young woman as the priest prayed for him. "I am not scared of death" Andrew admitted weakly.

"Why are you not? Have you found God?"

"No, I found strength to fight on... I do not expect you to understand, this is my strength, I feel it in my bones... the will to live even as my body... tells me no"

"What do you want to live for, my child?" the priest asked coldly.

"I want... the most selfish thing I can get... revenge. I want revenge on my mother and those who shamed my father. I know it is wrong to want such things but I do, I just have no time to carry out my will"

"You wish to take revenge despite the fact that it may stop you entering Heaven?"

"Yes... I do not care" Andrew admitted as he coughed up his own blood. The priest cleaned him up as he looked into his eyes. "I know I am at death's door... father was the same... he went... in agony... in disgrace"

"You want vengeance, I may be of the church but I do believe in vengeance, my child" the priest admitted.

"I am near death, entering the gates, I know it" Andrew whispered without fear. He removed the bloody tissue from the priest's hands, whispering "perhaps you should not be so close, not to a dead man walking, you could get ill too"

"Do not worry about me" the man whispered. The man's face became an illusion; it had to be... it had to be an illusion. The man's teeth... they were long, exceptionally long... he couldn't understand it or how it was possible. The man reached over him, pinning Andrew's arms as he gasped from pain... shooting pain, a little worse than being stung by a bee. He felt the world whizzing around him as his eyes opened and shut.

A woman's voice whispered to the man "he is incredibly ill... how could you turn him? He might die before it's completed!"

Completed, what did she mean by that? What was happening to him?

"He is strong, Madeleine, I believe he shall join us"

"Victor, you are letting love cloud your judgment, I have never see someone so ill, make it through the turning" she hissed. He could faintly see her, her blonde hair, her skin like... milk... as white as snow.

He felt something being forced down his throat... the sheer heat and pain burning within him, like knives cutting his veins open. He wanted to scream and claw himself but he was frozen solid, unable to move as if paralysed by the sheer pain. What was happening to him? Why did he feel that way? He felt his temperature burning, similar to what he would imagine being burnt by a volcano would like. Was this how he was going to die? Was this how he was going to suffer? Was he doomed to die in agony for his horrible sins?

"I told you, he will not make it" the woman snapped.

"Then I put him out his misery, do not be mad"

"You got my hopes up, allowed me to think I would have a son... you knew I had my eye on him, why did you not turn him before he was ill or at least this ill?!"

"I know you are disappointed, I really hoped he would make it"

"I know, I am sorry I snapped, it is not your fault"

They could hear his heart beating rapidly in the background, this caught her attention as she ran to his side, his eyes red like blood, his skin a little paler. She shut the heavy curtains as she whispered in his ear "come on, show me you are strong! You are dying, be a little stronger, do not fall down on your knees in despair!"

"What will happen now?"

"The blood has to get round his system without the heart stopping"

"The pain... it must be unbearable for him" Victor whispered as he watched Andrew toss and turn, sweating horrifically until the bed sheets were drenched.

Andrew bit his tongue, his teeth going right through... anything to end it; end the pain... the blood... his blood was boiling within him. He felt the blood pouring out of his mouth until suddenly it stopped as if there was no longer a cut there... what was happening to him?!

Please God, end this suffering before I end it for you!

"Come on, son, be a little stronger... stay with me... you can walk away from any illness once the pain has ended"

He panted, sweating as Victor cleaned Andrew up. He looked into his eyes as his body started to shut down in a hurry. He held him down as he fought, fought with such strength, fought against the pain, trying to claw himself to help himself end it all, the pain burning within him hotter than he had ever felt.

"Nearly there, so close" she whispered as she held his hand.

The darkness crept in as he took his last breath. His lungs filled and deflated as he took his last breath, pain-free. He did not know if he was dead or alive, he just knew that he was not gone yet... he was so confused, he could not think... how was it possible? How did he manage to live... breathless? He could feel it, he was not breathing and he had no heartbeat. He sat up, struggling, he could hear... everything... literally everything from the two stood close, talking to his horse outside, stomping in its stable. He held his head.

What is this? What is inside my head?!

He felt... warm, not boiled. His bed sheets were disgusting... he moved off of them quickly... too quickly. He was on his feet in seconds, probably onto two seconds. He stood on his feet until he fell; the sheer shock threw him to the floor. Madeleine picked him up, whispering in a mothering tone "it is ok, do not be afraid... I will help you"

"What just happened to me? What is going on?!" he asked, only to hear himself shouting. He covered his ears, yelling in agony as the woman took his hand gently, helping him as Victor watched him and the door.

"Am I dead?" Andrew asked as he looked around the room. He was fascinated by Madeleine's blonde curls, gently dipped in his blood. He gasped apologetically but she merely touched his hand.

"No, of course you are not"

"What is this I feel? I feel so... ill... I cannot understand it... I need water... I need a drink"

"Believe me, that is not what you want" Madeleine whispered gently.

"What is wrong with me?" he asked as he felt his own throat restricting him.

"You shall see soon" Victor promised as they hid, leaving Andrew stood there, shaking.

"My son, you should not be out of bed, you look so pale... I am sorry about your father... perhaps I should look after estate, just until you are well"

"No you better not, I am afraid you shall not be able to"

"Son, what are you talking about?" she asked fearfully as she hurried towards the door. He managed to run to her, literally run to her, pushing her into a wall.

"Now you are afraid, you know how I felt, how Prudence felt when you were like this with us, made us fear you so much we ran and hid away from you. Do not try to run, mother, there will be little point in running"

She pleaded with him but his hunger took over, his red eyes flashed at her, his teeth bit into her. She screamed, her blood running down her dress as he fed from her. She cried, begging him to let her go but soon had no energy to beg and plead, had no energy left to stop him. He was so strong, he barely felt her as she tried to push him away from her but instead he finished her off, dropping her body onto the floor.

"My lust for vengeance has been satisfied, I have taken my revenge and my sister and my father have theirs, your death marks the beginning of hope for there will be one less evil on this earth!"

"Well done, my boy, impressive for a first kill. I am surprised you showed such... restraint" Victor joked.

"Only because you were a total bloodhound, tore the throat out of your first kill" Madeleine joked they jumped down from the ceiling.

"So what happens now?" Andrew asked as he looked at the pair of them.

Madeleine flashed her fangs as she whispered "the choice is yours, my son. We shall stay for a little while, help you settle into your new life. After that, the choice is yours, you shall always know where we are if you need us, need our help"

"You can always stay or go, we shall not force you to join us or stay here while we leave you, we are not like that but as your mother has stated, it is your choice but we shall make sure you adjust to your new life"

He did not know what to say, he just kept quiet. What did they mean? Were they going to watch him and make sure he was ok, that he did not kill too many and expose their hidden secrets? He was uneasy for sure feeling strangely... dangerous. He felt super, super human for sure like nothing could stand in his way, like a hunter he had his eye on the target. He had never in his life felt stronger, more powerful. He felt invincible, like there was nothing that could hurt him. He felt his power, his strength and speed and realised he could focus on the tiny things, the tiniest details, magnify them easily. It was as if death had opened up a whole new life, a bright one filled with colour and brightness... he could see it all, staring back at him.

He could not believe it, how could it be possible? He felt everything. The wind brushing past time, how it embraced him, no longer sending chills down his spine cruelly. As he reached for his horse, he could feel each strand of his horse's hair, each little strand that made the whole bunch. None of it was real, it could not be real... it was impossible. The world was awake, alive and vibrant; there was beauty that he had previously taken for granted. As he stopped to look at the pastures, he could see it was not just one shade of green but a mix that blended so perfectly together to create their own illusion.

He knew he was dead but the irony was he had never in his life felt so alive, so strong and powerful. It was as if he had been awakened from a lifetime of slumber, his eyes were opened after being tapped shut for so many years. He was so confused and yet so happy, happy to be there, to be standing there and being able to wonder about the things he never thought he would be able to worry about. Consumption should have killed him, did it kill him? Was he killed by consumption? Did he actually die or somehow survive? He was so confused and yet so amazed by this cure... the cure they had given him made him feel so alive, as if he had never been so alive before.

He buried his father and his mother, giving them a sweet ceremony and one they deserved. His wife was not there, she could not go because of the children. His mother's death was linked to consumption. Victor managed to explain it away, pretending she went mad and killed herself when she realised she was ill, came down with the illness her son survived miraculously. No one seemed suspicious, just called him lucky and told him that God saved him so he could be with his wife and three children. Christopher was born shortly after his grandfather's death, it seemed fitting to name his son after his father, keep the line going. His father was a good man, the best but he died in disgrace thanks to his mother, the woman he deserved to suffer in silence, those were her final days, in agony like her son's final moments before he finally came back, fighting hard, harder than ever before.

He rode to his home, his wife inside, crying, probably thinking he was still ill. Consumption was horrific, a horrific way to die and no one, not one person had survived it. He did not know how to tell her but he had survived, fought it and survived somehow... not anything he could explain to anyone, even when he tried, even when he fought to try and explain it in his mind but nothing he thought of, made any sense.

He opened the double doors and smiled. He realised he looked like hell; he looked disgusting, covered in his own sweat and blood. He took a deep breath and ran up the stairs, pretending to be human as he attempted to walk up the stairs as a human. He got cleaned up, getting rid of his clothes, burning them until they were ashes. He did not want to spread disease to his wife, two daughters or his newborn son. Amy and Sybil were four and five years old now, their immune system not fully developed. He did not want to watch them suffer the way he had suffered, illness ravaging them, killing them slowly as they practically choked on their own blood. He had been through that, felt that and 'somehow' survived, he was not about to tell them how, how it was possible, how their father managed to fight back and get out of a possibly deadly situation. The last thing he wanted was to be made to admit the truth only to feel cursed within as the two others like him, ended the lives of his family to hide the truth. Upon looking at them, there was no doubt in his mind... they would do it, do it to protect themselves and their secrets and he would quite possibly go with his family. Although he was powerful, there was little to no doubt in his mind about who was the most powerful, who could win the fight if it came to one.

There it came, the smile he caught Sybil's eye. She ran to him, child-like with her sweet childish eyes filled with happy tears. He picked her up and swung her around gently as she giggled. Her dark wavy curls reminded him of her mother. He cuddled her, whispering "I missed you" in her ear before he put her down.

"Sybil, what are you doing?" Rose asked as she looked at her. She smiled surprised and happy as she saw Andrew standing there, looking well considering.

"I know, I look like a mess"

"It is a miracle!" she shrieked as she hugged him, kissing him. He hugged her before he asked "where is my son?"

"He is well, my love... what happened to you?" she asked in a hurried voice as she clung onto his arms.

"I am fine, my love but I was not. I was at death's door but something... something pulled me back from that" he confessed.

"It was God, he saved you... he answered my prayers!" she whispered in disbelief as she cuddled him, He felt her arms around him, grateful to the wrong man about his status, he was alive but at the same time he was dead inside. For a little while he could pass it off as his father's death, maybe even his mother's death but soon people would expect him to wear a different expression or at least start to but he had a feeling that he would be wearing the same haunted, hunted look for a little while.

He cuddled her for a few moments before he moved. She touched his cheek and whispered "I am so glad you are here, I never thought I would see you again" she admitted tearfully as she cuddled him.

He walked to his study and began writing a long letter to Prudence.

'Dear Prudence

I do not know whether you have heard or not or whether you are even well or not but I am writing because I want you to know that I am safe, I am well. Father and mother both met their deaths, both died from the illness that struck them both but somehow I survived, I clawed back and I lived a good life, a long and happy one.

May you be free and happy, may you be good and loved by your husband, my friend. I have three children now, doing well all things considered. I have named one of them Christopher after the father we had who is now no longer with us and the other two Sybil and Amy, names both Rose and I have agreed on.

I miss you, my sister and wish I heard more from you but I understand you may not have the time to write letters, busy with your large house and good husband. I hope you are making your life worthwhile, my sister, not like I once did.

The honour of knowing our father is there, although I am honoured, I feel destroyed by his death, unable to turn one way or the other. He was our father and I expected him to be around forever. Why is it this family has seen such bad luck? Father was a good man; he did not deserve to die.

Perhaps that is why he is and I have not, because God takes the purest of men first, the evilest of men last to make them suffer even more while they live, drowning but never dying from their sin. What am I to do, Prudence? I feel as if I struggle to think and to feel, guilt is all I feel... it is all I want to feel now.

His death turned my world, killing me inside. I survived and he died, how am I meant to live knowing what I have done? I cannot do this, I cannot fight this. I feel my mind... it is clawing me and I cannot make it stop. It is like I am paranoid and frightened but there is nothing I can do, nowhere I can turn.

What is wrong with me, little sister? Where shall I go? Where has my sanity gone? Is this guilt there because I survived or because he died? I do not understand it, I cannot understand it. I am frightened, frightened of my own life, my own sanity... insanity, my own pain coming to life and haunting me as I reach the end, close to it.

I know I am screaming inside, yelling and screaming, begging for some kind of retribution but there is nothing, no word from God, not even a whisper... just silence whenever I pray. What shall I do, my sweet sister? What words of wisdom do you have for me; your brother who you would be right in believing is mentally insane? I need help, I need your help and support but it is as if you, like God, have turned your back on me when I have done no wrong, all I did was fight for survival... all I did was want to live.

Andrew'

He had never felt so guilty, his mother was dead but that was not his guilt, he wanted her to die. The guilt came from realising that his father had died and he had lived, he survived as a vampire because he was chosen but his father, he was not. How was he going to live with that? His father died when he could have been saved, he could have been the same as Andrew and together they would have been a family, a family forever. If only life had offered them that chance, if only Christopher had been stronger, lived just a little longer, they would have been a family together, living forever as a family in happiness and comfort, never fearing again but it seemed life was not kind enough to them, either of them and decided to separate the pair.

"What is it? What is wrong?" Rose asked as she touched his shoulder.

"Nothing you need worry about, my darling. Do not worry about me" he replied as he held her hand. She smiled a little but still whispered "you feel so cold"

"I know but do not worry, my love, I am ok" he promised as he held her hand. He was tired though, he could feel his body shutting down slowly as he shut his eyes. She helped him go to bed, helped him lay down and sleep, she was worried for sure but she kept her mouth shut. He was worried about himself but kept his suspicions and worries hidden too. He looked much better and definitely felt much better so no one worried about him nor asked about him, it was strange, coming home so quickly to a woman who he loved more than anything. He was there for her, cuddling her gently in his arms as she lay by him that night. He was not going to pretend he was not tempted, he was tempted and maybe too tempted to sink his teeth into places they did not belong. The temptation grew as her heartbeat raced, he moved ever so carefully before getting up, not wanting to wake her up from her long slumber. If only it were possible, if only she was not such a light sleeper.

She woke up from her slumber and looked up at him. "Where are you going?" she asked with hints of concern in her voice.

"Do not worry, my love, everything is fine. I am just going out for a little while" he promised as he got dressed.

"I worry about you" she confessed sleepily. He kissed her forehead and whispered "do not worry too much, my love, everything shall be fine and before you know it, I shall be home"

He walked outside, the night calling to him. He felt like a small child again, learning to live again in the night. Daylight was not a problem for him but he liked the night, enjoyed it. He walked to the tavern but the alcohol he brought just had no taste, there was nothing he liked about it, nothing he could taste within it but he could hear the familiar sounds of drunken hearts beating. He could feel the pull, the need to drink again... to go back and drink but he left, left without making a sound. As he entered his home, he could hear hearts beating, one drew closer and closer. His senses took over and when he came round, Rose was shocked, scared.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked as she rubbed her wrists.

"You grabbed me, I guess I frightened you" she whispered, still terrified but so understanding.

"I am so sorry" he replied, filled with remorse.

She hugged him from behind gently, her arms wrapped around him as she said "I frightened you, it is ok to be on edge my love"

"The way I reacted... I am so sorry"

What shocked him was how understanding she was, it was so strange, confusing. She was so delicate and gentle, the woman he cared about, the woman he saw as a best friend, someone he could normally confide in. If only that were the truth, if only there was not a dark secret he held back, a lie he could not reveal to her. How could he tell her the truth when he was not sure of it himself? Just what exactly was he? Was he some dark creature shunned by God, forced to live with Lucifer forever?

"Are you ok?" he asked her as he soaked her wrists for her.

"I told you, I am fine, it was not your fault" she replied softly.

"I still feel so guilty; I genuinely do not know what came over me, I... I hurt you... I should never have... I will never let that happen again but it should never have happened in the first place. What you must think of me... my God, if there was any way I could go back, I would stop myself"

She just smiled at him while he looked after her, taking care of her wrists as carefully as she could. She was so fragile and he admittedly did not know his own strength and it frightened him, he hurt her, bruised her... it could have been worse had he not stopped himself. He did not want to hurt her; he did not want to hurt anyone. He was horrified when he realised he had hurt her, he did not mean it, he did not even realise he had hurt him. He touched her hands, holding them as he dried them for her. She smiled a little bit but still the pair of them could feel the fear. 

He waited for her to go to sleep before he walked out and walked into the stables. He took his horse and rode to the furthest tavern. He did not want to be seen being there, not because of his name or his title but because he was so careful, he did not want to be tied to anything he might do in that place that would be... questionable in nature. Needless to say, he did not want to find himself facing a beheading or burning to death whilst watching his wife, Rose suffer as she was shunned by society. The last thing he wanted was to bring shame to family but he needed to feed, his mother's blood satisfied him for the bear minimum of time and he soon found himself thirsting for blood once again only this time, the night was his and everyone within the place, a potential kill.

He grabbed this poor drunk, a man who could somehow tell was abusive to his wife. There were no signs, not physical ones anyway but somehow it were as if his mind was open to his influence, the man in a panic spilled his guts, begging for forgiveness as if Andrew were some higher power or something. Although it was a rush of power, Andrew never wanted that status, never wanted to be treated nor worshipped like a god. He plunged his fangs into the older man, his blood what he imagined sewage would taste like, thick and lumpy and filled with fat as he threw him to the ground, dead and lifeless. Hell awaited the man, perhaps waited for the pair of them but eternity was a long time and Andrew did not have time to worry.