I'm losing all control. But then another memory lashes out, and I seem to fake, everything that once was great. It's still in me.

Hard at work on a hazy summer night. It's been too long since I've taken the time to REALLY play with someone. The deep set need has been gnawing at me. Especially considering the recent events, it's past due that I had a little me time. Just Maddie and her toys. None of those pesky emotions. Minimal chatter from the choir of voices that normally haunt me. I'm satiating them, after all. Most of them.

My victim, some random guy I happened upon while wandering the streets aimlessly, is securely duct taped to the table. The house we're in has been under construction for awhile, the walls built, but still covered in plastic sheeting. The air is thick and hot. Sweat beads on my victims forehead, slowly dripping into his eye. He blinks, trying to clear his vision so he can keep track of my preparing. It makes him look stupid, and I laugh as I'm setting out my instruments for the evening. The last thing I set out being a pad of paper and a pen. I think for a moment, scribbling on the paper. Meeting my victim's eyes, I smile in anticipation. "This is gonna be a tough one. Twelve letters." His face turns red with the effort it takes to try to speak through the tape I pasted over his mouth. "Ugh. Guess I'll have to take this off if I want you to play properly." I rip the tape off and roll my eyes when he gives a shout of pain. As expected, he starts the ever present begging for his life. Yada yada yada. I wrap my hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to halt his pathetic whining. "LIKE I SAID. Twelve letters. What's your guess?" I release my grip.
"Please, oh god please. Why are you doing this? God please help me!" 
He's not paying attention to me! Thoroughly irked, I bring my hand with the pen in it down to his face, holding it a centimeter away from the frantically moving orb of his eye. "Last chance. Make your fucking guess." Maddeningly, he starts to pray. "Oh, this is cute. I've never hear this crap before." My voice drips with sarcasm. "Let me show you how I pray..."

Picking the hand saw up from the table, I hold it up so he can see it. The terror exudes from his very pores, letting off the aroma I love. I lick my lips and bring the saw to his left ankle. I press down just enough to part a few dermal layers. Just enough to start the flow of blood. The sight of it brings everything into place. Oh, nothing can compare to this. Nothing. Nothing. I slowly push the saw back and forth, luxuriating in each stroke of the blade. Skin splits. Muscles and ligaments tear at my will. It takes a bit more effort once I hit the bone, but that makes the job even more satisfying. It isn't until I saw through the last layer of skin connecting his foot to his leg that I even register his agonized shrieks. The foot drops, bouncing on the carpet. Blood pours wastefully out of the stump at the end of his leg. Whoops, get your mind back in the game Maddie. I replace the saw in my hand with an industrial strength iron. Somehow, his shrieks manage to intensify when I press the hot metal against the seeping stump of his leg, cauterizing the wound. The screaming starts to irritate me, and I toss my victim's severed foot at his face. "Shut up! Can't you see I'm helping you, here?!" Some people are SO ungracious. I pull the iron away once the bleeding ceases. His screams are tapering off, his eyelids fluttering. I deliver a hard slap to the side of his face, jarring him away from unconsciousness. "You've still gotta make a guess, ya know." I can't decipher anything from his moans and groans so I shrug. "Kay. Guess you miss another one." I repeat the process on his right arm, from the elbow. Halfway through, the saw, slippery with blood, gets difficult to maneuver. I remedy the situation by carefully licking the weapon clean as my victim shudders and cries. The blood briefly alleviating some of the lust, I continue my work, relieving him of his arm and cauterizing the wound closed. Much to my dismay, he faints from the shock. I pout and kick at the table, hoping he'll reawaken. Fine. I can be patient. Entertain myself while I wait. I pull my Ipod from my bag of toys, taking care not to get blood on it as I flip to a song and sing along.

"Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires? It's my desire, It's my desire. Danger! Danger! High Voltage!"

Oh, how lucky! My phenomenal singing talents must of woken him up! My victim groans, finally coming to. "Welcome back friend!" The sound of my voice starts the futile begging again. It pisses me off, so I take the scalpel from my bag and slice his eyelids off, just for the hell of it. I'm proud of myself, managing not to puncture the eye itself despite his struggling. Even with the cauterization, I know it will be all too soon before my plaything dies from shock so I speed up my process, still trying to get him to guess at least one letter. Just one! That's all I ask! At the end of the game, I throw the scrap of paper I'd been scribbling on. A sketch of a a stick man hanging from the gallows adorns the sheet. I cross my arms, perturbed. "The word was HABERDASHERY! Was that really so hard to guess?!" The only response I get is a low pitched squealing. I look down at my play thing. I amputated each arm at the shoulder, and the legs at the hip. His lidless eyes are rolled back in his head, and he's still trying to scream although I removed his tongue. Huh. I've made a human pillow. I link my hands behind me and serenely watch as his struggles cease. Each beat of the heart becoming more disjointed. And then..."Ah. Time of death.." I look at my watch. "3:29 a.m." I laugh, and the sound reverberates disturbingly in the empty room. Then, over my laughter, I hear another sound.

Slow, purposeful clapping. My laughter cuts off as if I'd been gagged. I turn around, resigned. Of course. Why am I not surprised. These two aspects of my life are so very interconnected. 
My maker, leaning against a sawhorse, clapping long fingered hands together. "Bravo, monster! You are an artist after my own heart." 
Fighting the hysteria that is just on the edge of stampeding through my mind, I reply. "You're not really here?" The quizzical tone in my voice makes me cringe. Stop. Be strong. You beat him once...
He stops his clapping, and places his hands on his thighs, leaning forward. In a whispered tone, "Does that really matter? I'm here, I'm there. Burned and dead, or here in your head. Either way you're listening, aren't you?" I want to say no. I want to turn around and run. How can a delusion still have such a hold on me? "Because you have always, and will always be mine, monster." I open my mouth to respond, but all the gallantry runs from me. Glancing back at my limbless play mate, I frown. Isn't this supposed to make it better? Make him...shut up? Why am I still so... I whimper out loud, and wrap my arms around myself. The specter of my maker smiles, knowing he's conquered me once again.

He walks toward me, and I shuffle a few inches back. Holding up a hand, a warning, he catches my gaze and wills me to be still. I accede, holding myself tighter and watching him as he slowly circles me. My face is a mask of grief and dismay. I though I was...strong. He stops his circling to lift my chin. "And who told you that, monster?" I listlessly try to pull my face away. His grip tightens. Fingernails digging into my skin, drawing blood. "This is all you know. This is all you can understand." Again, I try to respond. Instead of a snappy retort, I sob aloud. Please can't you just leave me alone. I'm trying. Trying to be...something. Someone. He releases his grip on my chin and continues his pacing. Circling me. Circling as he licks my blood from his fingertips. Circling his prey. "That's right. My prey. You still know your place." My place. He still manages to beat me down, even barely laying a hand on me. "Isn't it easier when you're mine? My ways are simple. Cut.." He smirks. "..and dry. You always know where you stand, how to react, how to behave. None of these, what do you call them? Pesky emotions?" But..I..want to feel. My brow creases in confusion to my own thoughts. I want to feel? He stops in front of me again. "No, monster. You don't." He unwraps my arms from around myself, placing them at my sides. Taking my face in between his hands, he forces my head up. And...as expected...I meet his eyes. He almost looks...concerned? "Concerned?" He laughs. "I'm only trying to protect my property." 
I finally manage to speak. "Protect me? From what?" From who?
Hands on my cheeks, his thumb gently caresses my lips. "Look, monster." A harsh bolt of agony strikes through my brain. Images flip through too fast to comprehend. All I feel is the pain. Pain pain pain. "Shh...shhhh.." 
I hear his voice over my own shriek. "What...what is that?" My voice is thick with the threat of tears.
"Things to come. You've opened yourself to a whole new sort of pain, monster." 
My hands flutter at my sides, before reaching up to clasp my maker's against my face. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" 
A flash of irritation crosses his face. He always hated when I shouted at him. I brace for the inevitable violence. What I understand, right? It doesn't come. Instead he shakes his head dispirited. "I'll give you a favorable option, monster. Stay. Stay in here, with me. Stay with what you understand. The simplicity of torture and fear. I'll only hurt you in ways you comprehend." 
In my last ditch effort of courage, I reply. "Never. Never. I've made a life here. I'm going to put together the pieces you shattered. LET. ME. GO." 
My maker's hands slowly drop from my face. He backs up a few steps, an unfathomable look on his face. "Poor Madelyn. You think you've felt pain? The best is yet to come." He places a hand over his heart, shaking his head at me. I squeeze me eyes shut, confounded.

When I reopen them he's gone. It's just me. Oh. And my...play..thing. I look at the mess on the table and feel an unwarranted disgust. I shake my head, trying to jog my mind into it's normal state. With a sigh, I start cleaning up. The gruesome joy I felt when I was playing is extinguished. Now...I don't know what I feel. Pulled in about ninety directions, none of which are fully conceivable. Before I exit the shell of a house, I hear my maker's voice whisper through my thoughts. A storm is coming. "Shut up." I mumble, half heartedly. I make my way home.  I'm just stepping onto the porch when the sky opens up without warning. From the shelter of the awning, I turn around to stare into the downpour. This. This isn't what he meant. I rub my face vigorously, returning my gaze to the front door. A storm... I force my lips into a smile, hoping it doesn't look as much like a grimace as it feels, and let myself into the house.

I'm human debris. I am crashed and dead. I'm a catastrophe.

April of 1970

I'm spiraling quickly, trying to get out and away before I lose hold on myself. "Law.." My voice is high pitched, near frantic. It hurts my ears. I hold my head as if trying to hold back the insanity attempting to burst forth from my brain.
Law stands his ground in front of the door. Stubborn! Why is he so hellaciously STUBBORN? "I'm not moving. If you're going to flip out, do it here. I'm not letting you run off and get yourself killed." 
In my head, pseudo laughter fills my ears. I sink to my knees, hugging myself. I hear his voice over Law's. The same voice that's been haunting me for the past fifteen years.
Why run, monster? 
I can smell his putrid breath as he hisses madness in my brain.
Let the fool try to stop you. Let him hold my monster back. Put him in his place, show him who you belong to! 
I growl under my breath. "I don't belong to you. I've NEVER belonged to you!" Oh, god. Why won't this idiot let me out before it's too late!? My hands curl into claws, the nails digging into my arms as I try to hold myself together.
Law speaks in his calm tenor. "Fight through this, I know you can. Whatever you hear, it isn't real." His concern makes me sick. Too late. It's too late. He takes a courageous step towards me, bending down to my level. "C'mon, look at me, darlin'." His words do nothing to satiate me. If anything it infuriates me. A trick, this is all another one of his tricks. A mind game. He won't fool me this time... When I meet his eyes, it's not my friend I see but some ill perceived threat. An immortal sent from my dead sire to finish the job he failed to. I uncurl from my protected ball and crouch on my toes, hands braced on the ground, ready to pounce. The menace in my vision speaks. "Oh, darlin'. You don't want to do this." I lean forward, baring my teeth. "Stop this. Back off, Maddie." His insolent use of my name makes me see red. I snap, and fly at him in a crazed rage.

He catches my wrists before I can strike him. This false ally tries to placate me. I barely hear his voice over my enraged snarling. My maker laughs maliciously. Instigating. Egging the stranger on to attack me.
Time to teach you your lessons, little monster. Someones got to do it. You made sure I couldn't, didn't you? 
I scream incoherently, pulling an arm out of his grasp and landing a hard punch to the side of his jaw. It's like hitting stone, and the pain in my hand sets me off even more. Despite the tension, my attacker laughs. "That's a helluva right hook." 
I wrench my other hand free. "You're mocking me? I'll tear you apart!" 
He moves towards me again and I step sideways, grabbing a heavy vase from the table. I smash it across it face, eliciting a yelp from him. A trickle of dark blood drips from a wound on his temple. I brandish the jagged neck of the vase at him, grinning wickedly. Faster than I can react he slaps the makeshift weapon out of my hand. Spinning me around, he wraps his arms around me, pinning mine behind my back. I fight tooth and nail like a wild animal, attempting to tear the flesh of his stomach with my restrained hands. When I catch his skin, he growls. Panting with the exertion from trying to hold me still, he gasps in my ear: "Mad..don't...make me...lock you in the damn..closet!" The threat of being detained sends me into another wave of hysteria. I slam my head back into his face and wrestle free from him. His lip split, he spits blood on the floor. "God DAMN it! Fine. Is this how it's gotta be? Come on, woman. Let's tango." He holds his arms out as thick, inch long claws sprout from each finger. His fangs seems sharper, his eyes more feral.
This beast may actually be a worthy opponent. He could very well kill me. Instead of being afraid, I hunger for the battle. I shout at him. "Go ahead, let's see it. Take me down!" Crazed laughter surrounds me.
There's my monster. 
Almost catching me off guard, he makes the first move. Slashing low, his claws catch me across my chest. Thin lines of blood seep through my shirt. The sight of it provokes me and I fly at him, grappling and gnashing my teeth. I get my fangs deep in his arm, grinding my jaws down until I taste blood. He snarls angrily, ripping his arm from my mouth and heaving me away. I stumble into the coffee table. Feigning weakness, I whimper, letting false fear cross my face. He approaches cautiously, but not cautious enough. I grab his forearms, pushing him against the table. He falls backward, bringing me with him as we smash into the glass top. Rolling through the blood spattered shards, I fight for control. His claws tear at me, giving him the upper hand. Slippery with blood, I manage to squirm out from under him.

Darting into the kitchen, I grab a large knife from the butcher's block and in one fluid movement duck behind the counter. His blood lust brings him in to the room. He sniffs the air for my scent, and before he can pinpoint my location I fling myself onto his back. Grabbing around his neck with one arm, I sink the knife into his side to the hilt. He shrieks like a wildcat and reaches behind him to throw me off his back. I hit the floor hard enough to shatter the tiles. He pulls the knife from his flesh, tossing it aside with a clatter. I swipe my hair out of my face as he pants animalistically. Simultaneously converging on each other again, we brawl for over an hour, tearing each other and the house apart in the process.

My thoughts are churning darkly. The battle is taking it's toll on me mentally as well as physically. I notice him altering his attacks, seeming to block my attempts, rather than injure me. Desperate and deranged, I shriek at him. "No! Don't stop, fight me back! Giving up...why..why do you always give up?" My voice is hysterical. "Why won't you kill me? How can I stop you if I can't kill you? Why won't you...stop...stop." Bloody tears are falling down my cheeks as I howl in frustration.
He drops his arms, straightening out of his predator's stance. "I'm not doing this anymore. Do your worst, darlin'. Let it out. I won't fight ya anymore." 
I wipe the blood from my face angrily and accost him, pummeling every inch of him I can reach. The pity on his face conflicts me more. I scream. "Why are you doing this? WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME? Just let me go! You've taken everything! Why won't you...he..why won't he..." I look up, finally seeing through the haze of madness. "He won't let me go." My body trembles uncontrollably, my walls threatening to crumble around me. Law puts his hands on my shoulders and when I try to pull away he tightens his arms around me in an embrace. "Please don't...don't...I can't. I'm too dangerous." I'm poison. Don't touch me. Don't touch me. I curl into him and we sink into the carpet. He lets me cry and rave on his shoulder. As my sobs subside, I whisper apologies over and over. To Law. Myself. To the dead. To the people who will never hear it.
He rocks me gently and I hear his voice over my sorrow. "Oh, darlin'. What happened to you?" 
I turn my head, unable to handle the sympathetic look on his face. "Please don't ask that. Don't ever ask that."

We stay intertwined in each others arms amongst the wrecked debris of his furnishings until minutes before dawn. He doesn't speak when he lifts me into his arms, carrying me to his light safe bedroom. My face is impassive as he removes my shredded and stained clothing, slipping one of his clean t-shirts over my head. I stand by the bed unconsciously rocking back and forth on my heels as he removes his own clothes for a pair of sweatpants. A hint of weariness crosses his face as he climbs into the bed. Pulling me down next to him, I hesitate for the slightest moment before curling my body around his. He drapes an arm around me protectively when I nuzzle my face into his chest. He falls asleep instantly and after a bit I fight down my racing emotions and drift off.

I'm alone, I'm not lonely. I feel like choking, then holding. You're breaking the skin.

January of 1970

Six months ago, if someone had asked me if I could ever integrate with my own kind, let alone LIVE with them, I'd think they were crazier than I am. With my first experience with a Kindred being the horrendous fourteen months spent in my maker's clutches, I was half convinced they we're all as wicked as he. I lean against the rough bark of the tree I climbed up. With the surrounding woods and lake, theres no doubt a Gangrel would find this place an appropriate home. Law loves to be in the wilderness. Why he decided to disrupt the peace and tranquility of this place by invited a ticking time bomb Malkavian like myself is beyond me.

After the Woodstock incident, he somehow convinced me to join his small coven of friends. While he was optimistic about the idea, the other three had their misgivings. Understandably as I did try to rip Kat's face off in a drug/hysteria induced hallucination. She understood the situation but still treated me with a detached civility. Stella was still amiable enough. It was nearly impossible to tell how Shade felt about me, as he barely spoke for any extended duration. He warmed up enough to teach me some useful hand to hand combat skills. Although that might of been a tactic to size me up in case he ever need to take me out. Lawrence - Lord, he'd chew a hole through my chest if he heard me call him that - seemed to take a truly confounding liking to me. I could tell I wasn't the only one puzzled by that turn of events. How anyone could tolerate, let alone feel genial towards me...but Law sought out my friendship.

Our little five some lived together for about four months before it became readily apparent how much of a burden my presence was on the other Kindred. Between my viciousness with my kills, my choice in prey and the fact that I have a tendency to slip into dangerous hysterics every now and then, the inevitable happened.

I try not to pry, as easy as it is for me. My senses just happen to be more sharp than even the heightened sense of your average immortal. I could hear Kat and Law arguing inside the house.
"You must be as crazy as she is for bringing her to live here! She's a godamn menace. If she's not tearing up the house she's trying to destroy one of us in one of her delusions!"
I don't need to see Kat's face to know what it looks like, the mask she hides her true visage behind slipping in her agitation.
"And haven't I proven I can take care of that?! She hasn't laid a hand on you since August." Law retorts, his voice taking on the throaty growl that shows itself when he's roused.
I hear Stella pipe up, hesitant. "He does seem to have a fairly strong control on her, Kat.." 
"Oh, don't you stick up for that maniac.." Kat interrupts. "You're just as wary of her as I am. That right there is reason enough to toss her out, even Stell can't stand to be around her!" 
"For the love of...I never said I couldn't stand to be around her, Kat! Be a spiteful bitch all you want but don't put words into my mouth." Stella spits out angrily.
I hear Law snicker quietly as Kat huffs in indignation. "Y'know what -Lawrence-, we've been friends for a long time. Through thick and thin. This is a real fucking thin time. If she's not out of here...I am." 
I don't even need to hear Law's thoughts to know she's hurt him. He's told me plenty of details about their long standing friendship, and I know he wouldn't want to give that up. Ok, no big deal. I'll solve the problem for them. I'll just leave. I surprise myself with the bleakness I feel at that thought. I shake it off as I creep back inside the house to collect my few belongings. Sigh. Guess I should of know this wouldn't last. Not much can last the way I move through life like a human wrecking ball. I sling my bag over my shoulder and retreat to the back door. Although he wasn't there a moment ago, Shade sits in one of the easy chairs, looking at me without expression. Unsure what to say, I shrug and give him a sad half smile before exiting to the front lawn. That was easy enough, right? Impending loneliness creeps up on me, and I push the feeling away irately.

I'm not even at the end of the walkway when I feel Law's presence approaching. So much for easy. I turn to face him, eyebrow raised quizzically.
"Where do you think you're running off to?" 
I raise my eyebrow higher, giving him a skeptical look. I attempt a smile. "I'm not dumb, tiger boy."
He sighs. "Sorry ya had to hear that darlin'. Y'know Kat...she's uptight." 
"No, Law, she's right. I'm not really well equipped to be anyone's company for a extended amount of time. It's a wonder ya'll put up with me this long." 
I start to walk away again and he grabs my shoulder, quickly releasing his grasp when I turn back to him. "Sorry, I know you don't.." 
I interrupt him. "It's ok, you can...yeah. It's ok." 
"Don't leave, Mad. We can work something out, it'll just take time." 
I shake my head. Optimism won't get ya out of this one, boy. "Don't worry about working anything out. I'll just go, it's really not a big deal." 
"If it's not a big deal, I'll just...go with you." 
My mouth opens, about to shoot down that decidedly foolish idea when Kat's furious voice carries across the lawn. "What?! Are you kidding me? Have you honestly lost your mind, Law?!' 
"Kat, stay out of this. You've made your opinion perfectly clear, this doesn't need to turn into a huge fiasco." A fiasco it ends up, and I end up plopping down in the grass as Law and Kat verbally duke it out. More than once, I wonder why I don't just up and leave.

Eventually they both run out of steam as Law heads into the house to grab his possessions. With a vague threat of dismemberment he warns me not to take off. In a last ditch effort to mend fences, he knocks on Kat's closed bedroom door. "Kat, c'mon. At least say bye to me, I don't want to end this on bad terms. C'mon Kitty. Don't be like this." 
Stella rolls her eyes derisively. "She can be such a bitch.." To my surprise, Stella pulls me into a hug. "Sorry bout all this. Make sure he keeps in touch." After a moment she smiles warmly at me. "You keep in touch too." I give her a puzzled smile. When Law trudges back into the room she embraces him with a goodbye and well wishes.
Shade gets up from the easy chair and shakes Law's hand. With a steady gaze at me, he tells Law in his quiet baritone: "Take care of that one." Huh. I guess that's a sign of affection? So we depart, and instead of taking off and seeking shelter on my own, I've got a personal Gangrel bodyguard.

I stare up at the moon from my perch, feeling pensive. I glance down to see Law loping towards my tree, back from his hunt. In one of his eerily graceful movements, he climbs up effortlessly to roost on the branch next to me. I already ate, but the residual smell of blood on his breath still entices a stirring in my gut. "Good dinner?" 
He licks his claws with a grin. "Probably not as tenderized as yours, but still satisfying." We both laugh before lapsing into companionable silence. Intentionally he breaks the silence. "This tree bark is really chafing my ass..." I dissolve into hearty laughter to the point of almost toppling out of the tree. He scoots closer, putting an arm around my shoulders, steadying me. "Careful darlin' don't laugh yourself into a torpor." When I get my giggles under control he starts to lift his arm from my shoulder. I surprise us both by reaching my hand up to grasp his, preventing it's removal. I can feel his pleased astonishment when I lean into him, idly toying with his dark hair. My acute hearing picks up a rumbling from his chest.
"Are you...purring?" 
He scoffs. "Pfft, me? No. You're obviously having a delusion or something..." He chuckles, and the deep sound continues to emanate from him. The sound is oddly comforting, bringing a rare smile of contentment to my face. Oh, dear Maddie. What are you getting yourself into...

Someone is countin' your days, and somebody got to keep track of your mind. When everything turns out gloomy.

August of 1969. Bethel, New York.

The steady rain has tapered off to a light drizzle. Despite the wet weather, the night is alive with activity. Where the hell are all these people going? Led by my senses, I'm following a group of dirty looking hippies through the snarl of traffic. Wherever they're going, wherever I'M going...it smells amazing. When I come down a dirt road and set eyes on the jam-packed field. Dear god! Thousands, tens of thousands of walking blood bags. I'm almost spellbound by all the sights, sounds...and smells. Oh, the smell of so many meals! The massive throng of humans seem to be centered around a brightly lit stage. Banners hang everywhere. 3 Days of Peace & Music. Woodstock Music & Arts Fair Present An Aquarian Exposition. I'm instantly enthralled. Even from the road, I hear a man singing from the stage:

 "Mississippi Queen, If you know what I mean
Mississippi Queen, She taught me everything."

I clap my hands and laugh aloud. This is perfect! Live music...and an all you can eat buffet! I slosh through the mud, intermingling with the crowd. Nodding along with the music, my eyes rake hungrily over the crowd of bodies. Men and women in various states of undress. Damp and sweaty and delicious. I escape notice with a bit of effort until I catch sight of a group of people classy enough to stand out in the clusters of flower children. The quartet is staring at me with a faint curiosity. I focus my senses, honing in on them. My head tilts to the side, scrutinizing their auras. Oh! They're...like me. Other Kindred! Eager to rendezvous with my own kind I traipse over to them. "Hi! I don't get to meet other dead'uns often. I'm Madelyn...isn't this great?" I laugh at the over eagerness in my voice.
The other vampires stare at me, affronted, until the perceivable leader reluctantly sticks a hand out to me. "I'm Susanna Rockefeller, and this is my family." She waves a hand to the other three Kindred, but doesn't introduce them.
"So, do you and your..eh..family do stuff like this often?" I catch one of the other vampires rolling his eyes. My smile fades a bit, sensing the indignation, and puzzling over it.
After a beat, the female responds. "My clan is devoted to the arts. Naturally, we would be drawn to a performance such as this. Despite the...unsavory company." Her companions snicker.
I keep the smile pasted on my face, ashamed of my desperation. "And what..um..what clan are you?" 
A throaty males voice comes from behind me. "Toreador, can't ya tell? Bunch of pompous degenerates..." 
The quartet turn their noses up almost in unison, the female replying: "Better a degenerate than a filthy mutt." 
The newcomer laughs heartily. Speaking to me, he asks: "And what clan are you, darlin'?" 
I turn to face him, briefly taken aback by his bright yellow eyes. "...Malkavian." I mumble. His slit-like pupils dilate as he gives me a toothy smile. I hear the haughty woman sigh.
"I believe this is our cue to part ways." The well dressed group strides away quickly. I narrow my eyes, distressed by the less-than-friendly encounter. The yellow eyed man puts an arm around me companionably. "Don't ya worry about them. Pretentious dicks. You're Madelyn, I heard. The name's Lawrence, but you'll call me Law if ya wanna stay on my good side."
I smirk at him. "As I've already scared off one group of Kin, I'll call you Law. And if YOU want to stay on MY good side, you won't call me Maddie." 
"Fair enough, m'am." He tips an invisible hat to me, and we both laugh. "Come meet my coterie of miscreants." he says, and leads me to the other side of the field.

He informs me proudly that he's a Gangrel. His coterie consists of two other Gangrel, and a Nosferatu. I'm shocked to meet the Nos, who introduces herself as Kat, and is strikingly beautiful. From the little I've learned of the Nosferatu, they're all supposedly afflicted with hideous deformities. Kat explains how she wears the Mask of herself before she was Embraced. She briefly lets her false facade drop, displaying a visage deeply pockmarked with pits and sores, and other nauseating flaws. Wearing the beautiful face again, she grins at me good natured. "If you looked like that, wouldn't you hide behind a mask, too?" I bite my tongue, keeping hold of my tact.
"That's ok.." Law responds. "..we've all got our quirks don't we?" He smiles his fangy grin and pulls the back of his pants down enough so that I see a bit of striped fur. He wiggles thick black claws at me and laughs. "Ooh, and feel this." He grabs my hand, pulling it to his mouth. Running his tongue along my palm, I feel the rough abrasion, similar to a cats tongue. "It's safe to say I'm a tiger in the sack..." The group breaks into whoops of laughter. I join in, the levity of my companions putting me at ease. The other Gangrel introduce themselves as Shade and Stella. The latter being a forked tongued blond whose voice and posture make me curious as to what other serpent-like qualities she inherited. Shade is a large, dark skinned, imposing figure who speaks in a whisper so conflicting to his appearance that I can't help but be intrigued by the few words he says. The small coven accepts me into their company amiably.
"Have you eaten tonight, Madelyn?" Stella asks, with a wicked smile.
I look around the crowd, licking my lips. "Not...yet." 
She grins and rubs her hands together conspiratorially. "A hunting we will go, friends?" 
Law cuts in. "Uhn uh. Reel in your beasts, ladies. We've gotta catch Creedence first...then it's chow time." 
My eyes light up. "Creedence?! Oooh, even I can contain my blood lust until then!" My comment spurs another wave of humor. Within a half hour, Creedence Clearwater Revival is crooning Down on the Corner and Born on the Bayou. We dance wildly among the unaware Kine. Our antics drawing no extra attention from the unconcerned hippies.

Janis Joplin takes the stage, and even the sounds of Take Another Little Piece of My Heart can't distract the overwhelming need for fresh blood. We head towards a darker section of the field, each scoping our potential prey even as Kat and I unconsciously dance our way through the crowd. Law spots his meal first and lopes gracefully towards the young woman. I pinpoint an inebriated couple sneaking off behind a tent and go into predator mode. "Ooh, those two look delicious. Enjoy, Maddie." 
I growl over my shoulder at Kat, who chuckles nervously. "Don't call me that." 
She spreads her hands apologetically before approaching a shirtless man tromping barefoot through the mud. I follow my couple around the tent, where they latch onto each other like mollusks. When I step in front of the, they pause their kiss. "Mmm, hey cutie. Wanna taste?" The woman slurs at me, reaching out to caress my shoulder.
I curve my lips into what I hope is a seductive smile and take her hand. Glancing at the boyfriend, I ask: "You sure three's not a crowd?" He blinks slowly, staring like he's entranced.
"Three's company, right?" Actually two's company, but who am I to argue? The woman pulls me in between them, and my lips meet hers in a sloppy but sensual kiss. Boyfriend's hands creep around, grazing my breasts as he covers my neck with licks and nibbles. Tracing my hand up the woman's stomach, across her chest and around to the base of her neck, gripping it lightly as I explore the soft confines of her mouth with mine. I break our lips contact and bring the man's hand up to my mouth, running my tongue along his index finger before pushing it between the woman's lips. She sucks the digit eagerly as I trail kisses along her neck. She emits a deep moan when I sink my fangs into her yielding flesh. I catch myself expelling a noise of my own as I swallow down her life's blood. It coats my throat like syrup and I drink until she slips from my grasp. I move quickly, before the man can react. Spinning around to face him, I twist my foot around his ankle, pulling so he drops back into the mud. Whether dazed from pleasure or just plain intoxicated, he doesn't react when I hike his pants around his ankles and bite deeply into his thigh, sighing when the femoral artery lets loose it's gush of vitae. After a moment or two of vigorous feeding, I detach myself from him. His heart still beats, distractingly loud, so I snap his neck. The sharp crack seems to echo in the air. I wipe my mouth on his damp shirt and rise from the dirt. My head spins a little. Mmm...wow, either I overindulged or flower child blood is extra potent. I linger by the tent for another moment, staring at the smears of mud on my skirt. It looks like clouds. Or...a Rorschach inkblot. 
"Ehehe, what do you see Herr Doctor?" Shaking my head ruefully, I head back into the crowd.

The rain starts up again, and I find myself twirling around with a handful of smelly Kine decked in tie dye. The colors seem to be dripping off their clothes, leaving them in pure white garments. I hear the band on stage singing. 
"Dance to the music! Dance to the music! Turn the white clothes red! Bleed them out!"
That...doesn't sound like Sly and the Family Stone. I shrug. Well, ya can't argue with a classic. I grab the nearest lily white dancer and pull my arm back to thrust it through his chest when a pair of clawed, calloused hands grasp mine. I let the human go and bring the claws in my line of sight. A ruby red semi dried drop of blood rests along the curve of the dark nail. I dart my tongue out and lick it off. In that tiny drop of blood I'm lost in a cavalcade of memories. Whoever the blood belonged to, I see their past. Their future, blank. Their present, lying under an abandoned truck, hidden behind the tire. Law pulls me from the dancing group as I flip through the thoughts of his deceased prey. "Law, this is...awesome. I can see...all this stuff!" 
The tiger laughs. "Looks like your dinner came with a added bonus." 
"Hmmm?" I respond, distracted by the flowing lights emitting from the band on stage. Was the stage that tall when I got here? It seems to tower over the throng, the performers on a pedestal. Held high above the undulating crowd. 
"Acid, darlin'. You're tripping. One of the hazards of feeding off a hippy." 
I try to absorb his words. Acid? That's a...hallucinogen. "A schizophrenic Malkavian on hallucinogens? Oooo..errr." Did I say that out loud? Law wraps his arm around my waist, steadying me as we reconnect with the group.

Shade glances up at our arrival, eyebrow raised questioningly. "Button, button, Madelyns got a button." I say in a sing song tune. 
Law chuckles. "Our newbie got her first taste of an acid addled hippy." 
Shade nods and responds in his quiet voice. "So did Stell." 
Stella giggles waving her hand in front of her slowly. "Sssshade. So quiet, it's worth a million to hear you ssspeak." Her words are so smooth as they slither from her mouth. I watch in amazement until each word grows fangs. They drip with venom and I whimper quietly, ducking behind Law. 
He takes my hand reassuringly. "We're gonna have our hands full with you until this is over, aren't we?" 
Kat appears from nowhere, startling Stella out of her daze. Stella's gets to her feet in a smooth maneuver that leaves me awed. She hisses gently in the Nosferatu's direction. "Give someone a heads up before you pop in and out of existence, bitch." Kat laughs and grabs Stella around the waist. The two start dancing, and I'm entranced by the effortless way Stella's body moves. The word 'serpentine' appropriately comes to mind. I drift away from Law, captivated and joining the girls in their dance. Stella runs her hand through my hair, flicking her tongue at me seductively.
I hear Kat's giggle, close to my ear, sending a shiver through me. "Trying to corrupt the new recruit already, Stell?" Stella just smiles in response, undulating her body against mine.
Law mumbles from the sidelines, "Good god, you girls are killing me..." 
Stella replies, "Mmm, you know there's more than one way to unleash the beast, right ladies?" The three of us pull closer, Kat and Stella sandwiching me between them. Stella surprises me, pressing her oddly rough lips against my own. When the initial shock wears off, I relax, returning the kiss. Her forked tongue flicks against mine in a curious sensation.
Kat bites gently on my ear from behind, whispering, "How 'bout it? Wanna let out your inner monster?" At the sound of the last word, my body stiffens. Unanticipated, I feel a mental tornado touch down in my psyche.

"Monster, my monster." The derisive sound of his voice as he cuts me. Slices me open. His monstrous actions building up a vicious beast inside of me. His monster.

I turn on the mocking creature behind me. Clawing at it's face, I clutch my hands around it's throat. It's when my thumbs start to puncture the windpipe that I'm pulled roughly away. I shriek like a banshee, fighting an iron grip. Kat Kat? No, I thought.. lays on the ground, holding a hand over her bleeding face and coughing. "What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" She leaps up, coming at me.
The grip on my arms relents for a moment to knock her back. A deep growl of a voice behind me commands, "Shade, hold her back." 
The dark skinned man restrains her. Her beautiful visage slips in her anger, revealing the hideous face underneath. "She just attacked me for no reason!" 
When the voice behind me speaks again, I recognize it at Law. "She's a Malk, you idiot!" I'm whimpering to myself as he orders the other three back to their shared haven. "Go! Go back the the haven. Get out of here before one of the few sober people here notice what the hell's going on."
Shade retreats briskly, dragging Kat with him. Stella hesitates. "Law, what are you going to do with her? How do you know she's not going to kill you? She's obviously unstable.."
I growl at her words, sensing veiled threats in my twisted mind. "Just go for Christ's sake. Ya'll act like I can't take care of myself." She shakes her head but slinks off. I see all the crowd clearly now. They all smile at me knowingly. They know. They know who am I. They know WHAT I am. I've got to...kill them. If I kill them all they can't hurt me anymore! I strain in Law's clawed grasp. "You stop that." He growls in my ear, pulling me away from the crowd, back in the dark between two empty tents. I feel myself starting to spiral into a frenzy when he grabs my face, pulling it to his. "Madelyn. Look at me! Look in my eyes." He grabs a handful of my hair, halting my frantic escape attempts. "STOP. I don't want to hurt you." I glare into his cat-like eyes, sneering in petulance until Law's voice reaches through.

"Madelyn. Be still. You're safe. Calm yourself. Just listen to my voice and everything will be alright. Safe. Let the frenzy go. Let it go."

The tenor of his words are soothing. I feel the emphasis of each syllable washing over me. And...it starts to work. The beast that pulls the strings inside of me stops it's roaring. My brain seems to halt the screaming hysteria. Law keeps talking as I relax in his hold. How is he doing this? In my relaxation, the voices recede to a dull murmur. When I finally regain significant control of myself, I  place my hands on Law's chest, gently pushing him out of the close proximity. "How...did you do that?" 
He grins his sharp grin. "Lot's of practice, darlin'. Spent a lot of time with a lot of hot-headed Gangrel. It helps in keeping everyone from tearing each other apart." 
I wrap my arms around myself, shaken and embarrassed at my lack of control. "Well I guess I should thank you. So. Thank you." I turn and abruptly start walking away.
"Hey!" He follows after me, grabbing my arm. I pull away with a grimace, observing the brief look of hurt on his face. What does he want? I just want to get out of here before I get myself in another dire situation. "Where are you going? You know sunrise is in about 45 minutes." Damn it. He's right. 
"I'll find a place...um...somewhere." I respond back, lamely.
He starts to reach for my hand, but perhaps remembering my rebuff, lets his fall back to his side. "I've got a place nearby. It's safe. You've still got that shit in your system, so there's no telling what you could get into if you're alone." 
Before I can stop myself, I ask: "What do you care?" 
He studies me for a moment. "Who said I do? Now come on." And I'm following him out of the field of Kine, still oblivious to the monsters in their midst. "Aw, damn. We're gonna miss Hendrix. Of all the luck.." I don't reply. As we walk, I concentrate, perusing his thoughts. His concern in genuine. He doesn't fear me. Isn't sickened by me. I'm so baffled by the purity of his emotions. Pulling back into my own miserable head, we head to his makeshift shelter. We're well unexposed by the time the sun rises. For the first night in awhile my thoughts seem to be near coherent as I fall into my day sleep, and I almost feel safe.

I don't feel the way I've ever felt, I know. I'm gonna smile and not get worried, I try but it shows.

"Back the fuck up you crazy bitch! What are you on crack or something?!" My lips twist into a demented smile. Crack...ooh. I imagine the satisfying crack of a spinal column and continue to stalk the rattled hooligan down the alleyway. My grin widens when he pulls a gun from his waistband. "I'm serious bitch! I'll fuckin' shoot you!" 
I laugh, giving him an eyeful of my sharp canines. "Ooh, you'll shoot me? Big man with a gun, eh? Why're you so scared of little ole me?" Despite the fact that the guy is a half a foot taller than me and outweighs me by a significant amount, I still smell his fear. It radiates from his pores and I absorb the intoxicating scent. I want more! I want him terrified! I whistle at the man pointing a pistol at me. When his attention focuses on me, I take a dip into his subconscious. Tweaking and twisting a few deep set fears, I bring his fright to a a fever pitch. It's absolutely delectable until he shoots at me in a panic. The first bullet grazes my ear with a whine, bringing thin blood. The second catches me in the shoulder. "Ow. Asshole." I laugh again, but it sounds more like a growl. "You're going to pay for that." I see his finger tense on the trigger and I pounce, knocking him off his feet. Fangs bared, I sink them into the hand with the gun. He howls in pain and relinquishes his grip. I pistol whip him across the face, giddy when I hear the pleasant crack of his jaw breaking. Tossing the gun into an adjacent dumpster, I give the guy a stern look. "Shut up! What're ya trying to get me caught?!" I bend forward to bite into his neck when he surprises me with a knee to the stomach. It catches me off guard enough so that he slithers out from under me, scrambling to his feet and shakily running down the alley. Damn it! It must of been those drinks at Elysium. My reflexes are off. I catch up with him, grabbing his head and bouncing it off the brick wall so that he collapses to the ground again. Agitated, I flip him onto his stomach and lift my leg up. With a cocky "Ha!" I bring my boot down on the small of his back, snapping a few vital vertebrae. He moans, face half in a puddle of filthy water and motor oil. Placing a foot on either side of his prone figure, I grab a handful of his hair. Pulling his head back harshly, I dig in, drinking noisily before dropping his head back into the puddle. Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I give him a hearty kick in the ribs. "Your blood tastes like shit. I think I need some more...alcohooool!" I'm giggling as I walk away from the body. I stop when I hear another muffled grunt. Rolling my eyes, I stomp back to my dinner. "Really? You're not even dead, yet?" I huff and hold his face down into the puddle until his struggles cease. I keep my grasp for another couple minutes to make sure he's finally kicked the bucket. Wiping my hands on my shirt, I make haste leaving the alley and joining back up with the throng of Kine in the city.

I spot my next destination. The neon displays in the window buzz annoyingly as I walk through the door. Wow. There's so many choices! I head to a safe looking shelf and peruse the brightly labeled bottles. Holy crap. Cotton candy flavored vodka? Cinnamon schnapps? Chocolate liquor? Where has this been all my life?! I grab an armful of bottles and plunk them onto the counter with a smile. The smile quickly fades when I meet eyes with the clerk. "ID." He demands, looking me up and down.
I blow my hair out of my face, exasperated. "C'mon man, I'm 67 years old! Respect your elders and let me buy my fuckin' booze!" 
The clerk continues him impassive stare. "Either show me some ID or go on your way, Pinky." My lip curls at the nickname. I contemplate popping his eyes out and making him eat them but take heed of the security cameras. Damn it! I want my booze! Ooh, light bulb. I'll call Mongrel, he'll know what to do! I shoot a fake smile at the clerk and hold a finger up. "Just a moment, I have to make a phone call." I pick a contact and hold my cell to my ear.
"Thomas Maletoni speaking." What the? Tommy the priest? How do I even have his number?
"Whoops...I meant to call the Sheriff." I laugh. "Forgive me father, I've gotta go sin now!" I hang up and carefully hit the right speed dial. Mongrel's voicemail picks up. Daaaamn it! I leave my message at the beep. "Heeeey Sheriff Snookums." I snort. "Um...this guy..at the liquor store? He won't sell me anything! I told him I was 67 but...y'know...I think I'm gonna eat him. Hehehe..." I can practically see Mongrel's disapproving look through the phone. Coming up with an easier plan, I relent. "Ok, ok. Maybe I won't." I flip the phone shut and stuff it in my boot. I walk back up to the counter, place my elbows on it and rest my chin on my hands. The clerk raises an eyebrow, meeting my eyes. "Ahem. You're gonna let me have these alcoholic beverages. I don't need ID. I don't even need to pay, right? What do you care?" I delve into his brain, deadening his emotions.
He shrugs, submissively. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Do what you want." He sets a bag on the counter and bags the bottles in a subdued manner. I beam at him, grabbing my bag and flouncing out the door. That was easy! I bet I could use that power in all sorts of useful ways...or maybe just to get free stuff from stores.

An hour later I'm swinging idly in an empty playground. Well, mostly empty. The drained bodies of a young couple I caught canoodling lay in a heap by the jungle gym. I pause my momentum here and there to swig out of my bottle of blood and candy vodka concoction. "Eees deeleeshus!" I say to myself with a guffaw. I feel great. Trepidation about being a Harpy. Pfft. The stress from the ongoing feud between Pyotr and Tybalt. Pfft, who cares who did what now? Everyone should just get drunk and punch each other a little. Then call it a night. The thought of punching brings a teeny tremor of worry. Pyotr will probably punch my face off my skull if he finds out I've been conspiring with Tybalt. I scoff. Nah. Nah. Conspiring is such a dirty word. Just harmless chit chat, I'm not doing anything that's deserving of face punchy badness. When guilt starts attempting to rear it's ugly head, I quickly chase it away with a tasty gulp from my bottle. Nope nope nope. Ain't ruining my good time. I spend another hour or two swinging, occasionally switching it up and going down the slide. When my bottles go empty and I start to get bored I begin my trek home, singing to myself the entire way.

"You and me baby ain't nothing but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery channel!" I sing off key as I stumble through the door. Mongrel's on the couch, and he sets his notebook on the end table as I struggle to get my boots off. I stand in the doorway barefoot, a sheepish grin on my face. "Hey! You're uh..you're home! I thought you'd be sheriffing...um..sheriffizing..something." I shrug.
He peers at me over his glasses. "Maddie. Are you...drunk?"
"What? Me? Psssh." I wave my hand dismissively. "I'm not drunk, per say. I um..had a drink. The Harpy bought me a drink! Notte...she's...I like her." I try to smile appealingly.
He pulls his cell phone out, putting his voicemail on speakerphone, and replays my message from earlier. "Oh, that. I just got some stuff. Y'know. And um drank it. Drunk..um..drinked it. I didn't kill the clerk though!" He almost looks impressed. "Ah. I did kill a guy in an alley though. But he shot me!" I point to the hole in my shirt over the now-healed bullet wound. "Oh, and there was the couple at the playground. They we're just mixers though..." I laugh, and burp. It tastes like cinnamon schnapps and blood. Yum. 
He sighs and gestures to the couch. "C'mere. Sit down before you trip on your own feet." I give him a stink face, but shuffle towards the couch. "Wait, you've got blood on your shirt." 
I roll my eyes. "When don't I?" I peel the shirt off and surprise him by plopping sideways into his lap. Leaning against the arm of the couch, I spread my hand expectantly. "Well, go on. Admonish me for my drunken antics. Chastise me...spank me I've been naughty." I say the last sentence with what I hope is a charmingly attractive smile, but I probably look like a doofus. He smirks with a raised eyebrow and pets my hair. It's soothing, and I rest my cheek on his shoulder in silence.

"So." Mongrel breaks the quiet, nonchalantly. "Why'd you feel the need to get drunk?" 
I mumble a little. "I dunno. I mean, it was an ok night at Elysium. Did some Harpy stuff. Teased those Ventrue guys we were locked up with, y'know, Alastor and Roy. Haha." I pause, wiping at my mouth. "Called E. some names behind her back. Oh! And Marcus gave me a gift!" 
Mongrel looks at me quizzically. "Really? And what was that?" 
I smile, excited. "Crovax's tongue in this really neat box! Wanna see? It's in my boot.." I try to get up to show him and he gently pulls me back down.
"That's ok, dear. You can show me...later." 
I pout, but maintain my position comfortably. After a few more moments of silence, I'm the one to break it. "I guess. I've been...distressed over all this...Tybalt/Pyotr stuff." He nods in accord, gesturing for me to continue. "This is all so new and confusing to me. The...um. Emotional part? Like, how are you supposed to know what side to choose? And who to kill? And if anyone even DESERVES to be killed." Mongrel must sense I'm on a roll, because he keeps quiet. I continue ranting as he strokes my head. "I don't want to see either of them die. And it sucks! I like death and carnage...I don't like these...feelings." I sigh. "I was pissed at Pyotr, but not enough to want him dead. Whether or not I trust him...that's a different story. But y'know. He treats me like I'm a human. Not like some homicidal halfwit." "And Tybalt. I really think he'd keep his word. He seems like the honest type. I can't NOT like the guy." I groan loudly. "I don't know how the hell people deal with these FEELINGS all the time. It's enough to drive ya crazy." 
Mongrel shakes his head wearily. "Preaching to the choir there, deary." I lay my head back on his shoulder. The calm settles in again and Mongrel picks his notebook up. The faint sound of the pen scratching on paper is lulling me into a daze. Before succumbing to an intoxicated doze, I press my lips to his neck, mumbling contently. "You better not drool on me this time." He says under his breath.
Briefly roused, I wipe my mouth before responding. "I don't drool. Shaddup Sheriff...Snookums." and I drift back out of reality on the quiet wave of his laughter.

You've created a rift within me. Now there have been several complications that have left me feeling nothing.

August of 1986.

I'm sitting in the small place I share with my room mate Jonah Veverka. Outwardly we probably appear as your run of the mill punk teenagers scrounging in a swanky yet affordable apartment. Mostly likely paid for by mommy and daddy. The very thought of it makes me laugh aloud, causing Jonah to shoot me a brief glance. He's used to my random outbursts by now. We've been living together for over a year now, and associating for almost three years. Jonah's a twenty one year old manic depressive with a strange fondness for pink haired psychopaths. Not that he knew I was a psycho when we met each other. He was your typical wandering runaway, sleeping in homeless shelters or parks...the latter being where I found him. We struck up an unusually natural conversation. Even more unusual, I didn't feel the overwhelming blood lust I normally felt around mortals. Something about this blue eyed, faux hawked, damaged breather struck a unknown chord in me. In no time I had developed something I hadn't experience for over thirty years. Friendship.

It was purely accidental and abundantly comical how he came into knowledge of my...non human state. He came upon me wandering at our usual haunt in the park. I was in an erratic mindset, having just executed a group of beatniks with creative use from a couple heavy duty staplers and a flat iron. I couldn't decipher the odd looks Jonah was giving me until he brought me to the park's pond. Glancing at my rippling reflection, I observed the copious bloodstains on my face and clothes. "Heh heh...whoops...how'd I miss that?" Before I could catch myself I was discoursing an analysis of my earlier murderous foray. Halfway through my recollections, lucidity returned. In a spurious decision, I divulged a few details about my undead status, figuring I could just kill the kid afterwards. Much to my surprise, he accepted my story with a grim compassion. Jonah was a firm follower of the supernatural, and as I later found out, not all that mentally stable himself. So our friendship forged a stronger, albeit queer bond. One thing led to another, and with my illicit aptitude of acquiring funds, we bunked down in our quaint little abode.

Jonah's glaring at his prescription like it's personally offended him. He shakes the pill bottle with a oppressive frown. "I'm sick of taking this crap." He grouses, tossing the bottle onto the table.
"Be glad you have something that can control the...crap." I respond. "Some of us ain't that lucky."
Crossing his arms and staring at me, he retorts: "Well, you know. Maybe it wouldn't be so awful if you had someone by your side to help you through the badness." 
I scoff at his words. "Oh, ok. By all means, stick around next time I lose it. I'm sure it'll be quite a show for the few minutes before I tear you to shreds in a frenzy." 
He rolls his eyes. "I don't mean by your side like.." he gestures to himself. "..this." "I mean, if I was less fragile. Like...you?" 
The fire of this old argument is flickering and I can feel my temper trying to get the best of me. Unconsciously I stalk into the kitchen, putting space between us before I reply. "Like me, Jonah? Like me? How many times do we need to have this conversation? I didn't want this. I NEVER wanted to be like this, and I SURE AS HELL am never gonna do this to someone else!" I unclench my hands and place them flat on the counter. The recurring argument is putting me on edge. "Let's just...just drop the subject. This isn't even a consideration. Conversation closed."
I sense him mentally backpedaling, knowing he brought up a sore subject. "Ok. White flag. I give up. Jeez, Maddie...lighten up a little."
I glare at him. "Don't...call me that." My father's voice, long dead, echoes in my ears. His Maddie. A simple nickname, but always used with love. Spoken with such a caring context. No one is ever going to care for me enough to use that nickname. Not the way I am now.
Jonah raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. I forgot. Don't...heh..bite my head off." I give him a withering look but a twitch of a smile crosses my face. Slowly we ease back into normal chit chat. The tension in the air dissolving as I reign in my aggravation. I know he's still harping on the idea of me turning him. He always is. The boy can't see what a awful idea that would be. Then again, how could he. He didn't go through...I derail that train of thought. I'll never pass on this curse. This. The madness. The memories. It'll die with me. I'm still brooding over the negative when I turn in for the day.

I wake up as the sun sinks under the horizon. The faintest scent of blood tinges the air. With a deep inhale I pinpoint the blood as my own. Briefly perplexed, I shrug it off. Probably scratched myself during one of my nightmares. The house is empty, and my face darkens at that revelation. He's probably pissed at me. I sigh. He'll get over it. He's a good kid. One day he'll figure out I'm actually doing him a kindness by not turning him into a undead lunatic. I catch another whiff of my vitae and it awakens the inevitable hunger. Guess it's dinner time.

I return to our apartment, gorged as usual. Overindulging helps with the whole, not eating my roommate thing. Jonah's home. I halt a few steps into the living room. My head cocks to the side as I breath in his scent. He smells...different. The faintest scent of...my blood. What the? I sniff again. No. There's no way. He's sitting on the couch, peering at me over a book. His eyes don't belie any emotion. I stare at him, concentrating on his aura. His normal rich blue is churning with tar like swirls of black. Shame. Fear. My steady gaze unnerves him, and the black swirls spin nauseatingly. "Jonah. What...what did you do?!" He looks at me guiltily but doesn't answer. "Godamn it Jonah, answer me!" His response is instantaneous. "I took some of your blood while you were sleeping." His honesty knocks me for a loop. I angrily run a hand through my hair, exasperated. "What!? Why would you..." He starts to approach me and I hold up my hand. "Stop! Just...stay back." Again, his response is instant. He heels like a well trained dog and I feel my stomach turn. This isn't what I want. A pet. A slave. The very thought sickens me. A purple haze of loyalty seeps into his aura. Loyalty to me. I avert my eyes. Why did he do this? He's made himself into my...ghoul. "Please, can't I explain? I sink down to the carpet, clutching my head. "Yeah. Yeah, Jonah, Why don't you explain. Explain...what the FUCK you did and why." I feel him attempt to move closer again and I snap: "And for the love of...just STAY over there!" His voice drones through my ears, waxing and waning like the moon. His reasoning...it doesn't even matter does it? He stole my blood! Betrayed my wishes for his own selfish wanting. A fucking thief. I told him...I TOLD HIM. He betrayed me. BETRAYED ME. I feel malicious anger trying to take control. My hands clench into fists, wanting to hurt. Hurt him for being like every other waste of a soul. I bounce up to my feet and stalk towards the door. I've got to get out of here before I do something I'll regret. While I still can. While I would still regret it. I hear Jonah shout after me, his voice tinged with hurt. I'm out of the building and darting out into the woods before he even finished his outcry.

I don't slip into an episode, much to my surprise. Hunkering down under a tree, I try to rationalize through the situation. For as long as I've known Jonah, I've known he's been unhappy. The mood stabilizers he gets from the clinic barely put a hamper on the depression. I've felt it, even through my own mental issues. The kid's had reason enough to be depressed. Ran away from his abusive mother five years ago, on his own ever since. Well, at least until he met me. How a manic depressive 21 year old could possibly find solace in a 48 year old perpetually teenage lunatic is beyond me. The only thing more mind boggling is the fact that I manage to reciprocate at least a facsimile of affection towards him. It's hard to NOT care about someone who finds out that not only are you a walking corpse, but you're also clinically insane and enjoy slicing people up for shits and giggles...and still seeks out your presence. Even with the burdening threat that any minute I could snap and turn him into a human pincushion. I guess it's a sign of my fortified self control that we've sustained a carnage-free friendship thus far. I shake my head, trying to clear the inane thoughts. I need some outsider advice on this one.

Pinpointing the closest empty house on the block, I make quick work of letting myself in. These people are so trustworthy, leave their doors unlocked so any old creep can get in. I snort, and set eyes on what I'm looking for. Picking up the phone, I dial a number by heart. A man picks up after a few rings. "Pullman, here." 
I clear my throat. "Hey, Nick. It's uh...it's Madelyn. Remember you said to call if I need anything?" Cutting to the chase, I blurt out: "What can you tell me about ghouls?" For nearly an hour, he educates me on the effect of Kindred blood on mortals. Despite the amusement in his voice, he expresses concern. I dissuade his offer of help. I'll accept a little Cainite knowledge here and there, but draw the line at any tangible assistance. Thanking Nick, I disconnect the line. Knowing I've avoided the inevitable long enough, I head back to Jonah and I's apartment.

I enter quietly, and proceed to Jonah's room. He sits cross legged on the bed, looking at me expectantly. The silent stare down continues for a few moments before he caves in and speaks. "Listen, Mad. I'm...sorry. I mean, I'm not. Because, well.." He let's out a weird laugh and shrugs his shoulders. "But I'm sorry I did this against your wishes. I was in a bad state of mind after you went to sleep for the day. I got a little drunk...and a got a little irrational. Honestly, I thought you would wake up before I even got to, well, you know." 
"Before I woke up and slapped the shit out of you for attempting a stunt like this?" 
He tries to look ashamed and fails. "I didn't even think anything would happen. I knew it wouldn't turn me into a vampire or anything. I just..I fucked up." 
I flutter my hand at him. "I get it, J. It's...y'know, let's just forget this happened. It's a fluke, whatever." 
He looks at me skeptically, but then smiles. "Really?" I shoot him a look and he laughs. "Ok, ok! I won't take it for granted."

November of 1986

"Madelyn. Mad. C'mon! I only need a little bit! I feel like I'm cracking up..." Jonah's voice wavers with desperation. In the past three months his normally calm demeanor has taken a drastic turn for the worse. I thought it would be easy enough to wean him off my blood. He started to get harrowed a month after our last argument and the preceding blood theft. Against my better judgement, I relented and gave him another supplemental drink. Not the first mistake I've made, and I'm sure it won't be the last. "Please. Just one more, what can it hurt?" I grit my teeth and turn from him, agitated and more than a little bit worried. He grabs my arm brusquely, despite my growl of warning.
"Jonah. Get...your fucking hand off me. Now." He holds on a second too long, uncharacteristically smirking at me. Testing my patience. "Jonah..."
He blinks, releasing his grip and seeming to come back into himself. "I'm sorry, Mad. I don't know what the hell is up with me. My brain's been.." He rubs his face in a eerily familiar way. When he pulls his hands away, he looks despondent. "I'm gonna go lay down or something. Try to get my head back on straight." He gives me a half hearted smile before wandering back to his room, after a moment I hear his door slam. Fuck. He's losing it. This is my damn fault. I never should of let him have my blood. No, I never should of introduced myself into his life in the first place. I'm like the embodiment of a human wrecking ball.

I head towards my bedroom, passing the bathroom. The cabinet above the sink stands open a bit. The sight of it sets me on edge for some reason. I push it closed and happen to glance into the wastebasket. Hidden under a thin layer of refuse, I find Jonah's prescriptions; mood stabilizers and anti depressants, still full from his last refill. I set them on the sink and stare at the bottles. Shit. No wonder he's so haggard. This, on top of the whole ghouling situation. I slam my fist on the porcelain. Shit. In a heart beat, I'm outside his bedroom door. My hand is poised to knock when the smell hits me. SHIT! I push the door open. It swings into the wall, gouging a hole in the plaster with the knob. I don't even notice. Jonah's sitting on the floor, a straight razor glinting red on the floor next to him. Thin streams of blood flow from the self inflicted wounds running up both arms. The smell of fresh vitae makes my head spin. I shake it off and take a step towards him. "What the hell are you doing?! Have you lost your mind Jonah?!" I speak figuratively but when he meets my eyes I see that's exactly what has happened. Oh god. 
"Mad, I can't do this. Everything's so... I knew this would get your attention!" He holds his bleeding arms out towards me.
I recoil, despite the mouth watering smell wafting from his veins. "Let me...let me get you something the wrap that with. And your meds. You need to take your meds, ok? You'll be alright." I start to back out of the room. Jonah scrambles up, stumbling into me. I catch him before he falls back down. His blood seeps into my shirt, hot and moist. I clench my jaw, turning my face away. "Jonah, please. You've gotta...I can't...please sit and let me get you a towel." The smell of his blood is burning a path through my self control.
"No! This is what I want!" Crazed, he forces his arm near my face, smearing my mouth with precious fluid. Aghast, I push him away. He lands on his bed with a thump. Frantically wiping my mouth, I try to remove the invading taste. Jonah picks up the razor from the floor, pointing the blade at me. "God DAMN it, Madelyn! JUST TURN ME! You can teach me and...help me!" 
"Turning you won't help anything, you fool! Threatening me isn't going to change my mind. It's never going to happen and you know it!" Stress and hunger pushing my temper over the edge.No! I'm stronger than this damn it! I won't...eat...my only friend. "You pull this fucking trick...what's this proving, Jonah? You think being embraced will solve your problems? Did it solve mine? You think you're crazy now...have a taste of what crazy REALLY is!"

Eyes locked on his, I send an onslaught of memories into his mind. My memories, blistering with pain and terror. Oh my god, what am I doing?! I halt, disgusted with myself. Our minds still connected, I can hear his thoughts churning into mine. Please stop. Please. Maddie, it's horrible. Please. I can't take it. Stop. Stop stop stop. I try to break the telepathic connection. Can't...I hear him screaming but can't tell if it's out loud or in our heads. My brain is fatigued beyond rescue. I can't even react when Jonah turns the razor back in his own direction. He presses the blade against his throat and slashes deep, ear to ear. The blood spurts out in a gush. He falls back against the mattress, gasping wetly and choking. I drop to my knees, eyes still on him. His thoughts scream at my erratically. Please, don't let me die. Turn me, Mad. Turn me. I didn't want to die. I don't want to die. And I can't...move. I just stare as my friend bleeds out. His clothes are soaked with red. Soon the bed is, too. The smell is everywhere. I hear his last breath. The last desperate thump of his heart. Still staring. His eyes stare back at me, but he's not in there anymore. I'm still in the same spot when the sun starts to rise. Moving for the first time in hours, I scramble into the closet, slamming the door shut and curling into the detritus on the floor.

When I wake up again, I feel different. Shut off. I walk out of the closet calmly. Not sparing a glance to the body. I grab a bag from my room, stuffing a few essential items in it. I leave the apartment and within the hour I'm on a bus. Don't know where I'm going. Don't really care. I don't, do I? I close my eyes, willing myself into a callous calm I build a wall up. It's when the last brick is in place I hear his voice again. The hiss in my mind. Good girl. Good monster...

Responsible for bringing out my darkest side. I tried to hide what I feel but it's my time. To inflict all the damage, some indescribable pain.

December of 1954

My maker is humming a jaunty tune to himself. His back is to me as he readies today's instrument of torture. I perch on the edge of my mattress in a tranquil calm. At least, that's what I want him to perceive. I've kept up the serene, submissive act he delights in for the past month and a half. Learning bare snippets of information on my new state of being from his deranged ramblings. Feeding from what he brings me. Mostly children. Behaving for him. Taking any punishment he exacts. Trembling and cowering when it seems necessary. Keeping my motives hidden. Most importantly...strengthening myself. Preparing. Preparing for tonight. My own laughter echoes through my head and I find myself fighting a smile.

I know I can't make this last as long as I'd like. He's a clever, ferocious beast. I'm well aware of how quickly he can and will turn the tables on me once I rise up out of this pathetic facade. However I manage to bring about his end, it will be too merciful. I owe him more suffering than I can exact. For my family. For my life. For the past fourteen months of anguish and misery. The faces of my slaughtered family flash through my mind. The beatings. The mental rape. The brutal, physical rape. The time he took to slowly destroy the honorable young woman that I was, before he turned me into this deathless monster. He made me in his image, he doesn't realize that yet. But, he will.

"Madelyn." He beckons to me without turning around. "Come to me, monster." I rise obediently and approach him. Eyes cast down, hands linked in front of me. Just how he likes. He turns to face me, and peripherally I glance at the lit kerosene lamp on the table. And the red hot branding irons next to it. The mere sight of such items would have made me quake in fear before. Now, it's just ammo for my revenge. He gestures to my blouse. "Take that off." I comply. He grazes his hands along my shoulders appreciatively, leaning in to run his nose along my neck. "Ah, my monster. You still smell just as sweet as ever." He turns me away from him abruptly. One hand still retaining a firm grip on my collarbone, he reaches to the adjacent table. "This is something I've wanted to do for quite some time. I didn't think you could handle it...as a mortal." He laughs. "A shame, I could of marked you as mine for eternity." I feel the heat exuding from the iron before it even touches my body. It presses to my skin with a sizzle. Despite myself, I let out a small whimper. It hurts, and I can smell my scorched flesh in the air. He inhales deeply, savoring the scent. "...so sweet." I try to keep my reactions minimal. It's when he presses the burning tip into the small of my back, dragging it up to the nape of my neck, tracing a fiery course of agony along my spine, that I unwillingly let loose with a pained wail. At the sound, his hand whips around, striking me on my cheek before clenching around my throat. With the other hand, he holds the hot iron centimeters away from my face. "NOT ANOTHER SOUND!" He bellows. "You'll stay quiet, or I'll jam this down your sweet little throat." I don't speak. Don't move. After a moment, he relinquishes his grip. "Good girl. Good monster." He pats me on my head before continuing the branding. I take my mind beyond the pain. Focusing on my vengeance. Adding this moment to the arsenal. Envisioning all the lovely ways I can send this beast to hell. Strangling him with his own entrails. Dismembering him until he resembles a fleshy pillow. Setting him ablaze and dancing around the flames. Oh, I hope he screams! A malevolent giggle slips from my lips. I feel him freeze behind me. NOW!

Before he tenses for attack, I spin around. Grasping his jaw with both hands, I give a mighty wrench, dislocating it from it's socket and ripping tendons. Still taken aback, he lashes out, landing a blow across my chest. I feel my clavicle snap. The pain hinders nothing. I grab the metal chair next to me and fly at him, thrusting the chair legs into his gut and slamming him against the wall. "...you. YOU! You little..." His speech is cut off when I slam the chair across his skull, opening a fissure in his scalp. The sight of his blood sends me leaping at him, tossing the chair to the side. He catches my fist as I attempt to thrust it through his chest. He swipes his nails across my face, laying the skin open. I feel a runner of my own flesh flap against my cheek wetly. With a growl, he grabs me around the waist, flinging me hard against the ground. I see him draw his foot back and roll away a second too late. The kick catches me in the ribs, shattering two of them. I cough painfully. He draws his foot back again, aiming for my face. I catch it before it makes contact, and savagely bite into his ankle. My teeth grind against the bone as I yank at his other leg. He falls backward to the floor. I release my jaws from his leg and pounce on him, straddling him with my hands around his throat. And to my disdain...to my FURY. He laughs at me. His grin is wide, mocking me. "Ha ha ha, oh my monster! My brutal little BEAST! Ha! Ha ha!" I toss my head back and shriek. The sound of it reverberates with madness. I bring my face down to him, meeting his eyes, falling into his mind. I bring forth the deep terrors. All the things he hides from himself, that he thought he could hide from me. I bring horrific memories, screaming to the forefront of his brain. Twisting and gnarling the thoughts into unspeakable horrors. For the first time in the fourteen months I've been trapped with this beast, he is afraid. Terrified. I see it in his eyes and relish it with a smile. My hand flashes to the floor, grabbing one of the branding irons that rolled off the table in our brawl. Still hot, it blisters the skin on my hand before I stab it into each of his wide, aghast eyes. Then, finally...I hear that sound I've yearned for. He screams in agony. Sweet, sweet agony. I only enjoy the music of it for a moment, before clamping my mouth over his and biting away his tongue, his lips. Tearing the skin from his face with my fangs. A throaty, gurgling sound emits from the bleeding hole of his maw. I curl my hands into claws and tear into his chest. I punch and rip, pulling parts from inside him and tossing them aside like garbage. Eventually my fists start scraping the concrete under what used to be his body. I stand up, dripping with his foul effluence. Striding over to the table, I grab the kerosene lamp. I splash the flammable liquid on the walls and the floor, upending the last bit over my maker. Picking up the matchbook from the table, I strike one, casting it onto his body. In moments, the beast is engulfed in flames. Flames that quickly spread along, chasing me to the shelter's door. I pause with my hand on the hatch. Briefly oblivious to the heat scorching my already tender flesh. Eyes closed, I deliberate. Should I stay? Stay and permanently end this? Even if he's dead, he still made me...his monster. My lip lifts in a condescending snarl. NO. "I'll never die for you again." I heave open the door and tread blindly out of my burning prison. When I open my eyes, I'm staring at the moon through a light flurry of snow. I'm out. I'm free. I frown. Not free...but out. LIBERATED! The serene winter's night is ruptured by my delirious laughter, and after awhile the laughter sounds like screaming. Screaming diverting to sobs as I enter the genesis of my new...life.

Teach me, then slay me. Only cold I feel. Well, you see I'm still standing here. The only thing you taught me was to feel fear.

October of 1954

Gotta keep my eyes open. I'm stumbling around my prison, battling an unwelcome fatigue. My eyelids are heavy. The laughing maniac left an hour ago. An hour? Or was it longer? Was it just a minute ago? I shake my head, discombobulated. Every fiber of my being is telling me to sleep. Don't want to. I start to drift..

Blood. Hunger. So hungry. Laughter laughter. Blood. He's laughing, sharp teeth smeared with my blood. I'm laughing right back, thrusting my fists into his body. Pulling out handfuls and handfuls of entrails. Punching and kicking and biting until he's nothing but a puddle of bile. I'm hungry. Sweet flesh calls to me. Hearts pumping out blood and blood and so much blood. Feed. Drench myself in blood. Blood. BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD.

I scream myself awake. It's not a frightened scream. Not frightened. Frightening. I sound like a crazed animal. With a feral snarl I pick the worktable up and throw it against the wall. I turn the sparse furnishings in the room to splinters and scrap. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" I shriek to no one. I pound on the thick steel door. "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT, BEAST!" Collapsing in front of the only thing in the room I can't destroy. "I'm so hungry. So hungry. What has he done to me?" Drifting off again. My dreams full of death and brutality.

My eyes snap open. It's much later. The lull that tugged me into unconsciousness no longer pulls on me. Still, in this altered state...I sense him coming. I feel a twinge of the old fear but now it's tainted with something else. My protective cowering is seeming more like a predatory crouch. I smile a little. Let him come. My sharp teeth prick my lip and the smile melts off. What am I doing? This isn't...me? The door swings open. His eyes scan the room, smirking slightly at the demolition. The smirk turns into a full grin when his eyes settle on me. He claps his hands together like a proud soccer mom. "You've been redecorating? How lovely, my monster." He waves his hand at me. "Stand up, come closer. Let me see my monster in all her glory." Instinct tells me to stay down. Make him come to me, then tear his throat out. I tense so slightly. No. No. Behave, Maddie. Make him think..make him think you're still his. I rise slowly, hesitatingly. Looking at the ground as I approach him. I can almost feel how pleased he is with himself. He lifts my chin and I meet his eyes. I keep my stare unwavering, but submissive. "How do you feel, monster?" I have the briefest forewarning before I feel him prodding around my mind. Thoughts are whirring so fast. It's a battle to keep the necessary ones hidden. I'm so hungry, please. What has happened to me? What am I? Please. Hungry. Help. His face twists to a modicum of pity as he gently caresses my face. "What am I thinking? Selfish, thoughtless master. You must be famished, little monster." 
Call me that while you still can. I'll see you torn to shreds. His caressing hands pause for a millisecond. Catching myself, I stammer out: "P-please...sir. I'm very hungry. Please?" 
Reassured, he smiles at me. "Let me bring you some...thing to eat." Placing his hand firmly on the nape of my neck, he pushes me to my knees. "Close your eyes, monster. No peeping." I hear the door unlatch and swing open as he exits the room. A minute and forty seven seconds later he re enters. Eyes still closed, I cock my head to the side in curiosity towards a new presence. A mouthwatering smell pervades my mind. It's rich and robust. More tantalizing than any meal I've ever indulged in. I rise of my own accord, eyes still closed, taking deep heady breaths. "Open your eyes, monster." I abide. Before me is...a child. A young girl. Four, maybe five years old. Less than a dozen strides away from me. Dazed look on her face. I can hear her little heart beating calmly. I can FEEL the blood running through her veins. I want it. All of it. I envision myself leaping forward, sinking my teeth into her ripe flesh. Ripping her little body to shreds and drinking her dry. I start to move forward when I hear his laugh.

What am I doing? I won't do this! Madelyn, you're not a monster! I fight down the hunger as far as it will go. Not very far, but distant enough to send me scrambling to the opposite wall. Putting as much distance between myself and this depraved offering. "What's wrong, monster? I know you hunger. Are you denying the fresh meal I'm providing for you?" His voice is light, mocking.
I clench my eyes shut. "I'll never...I'm not like you! You're the monster!" 
He laughs at me, but the laughter is undertoned with anger. "Perhaps I haven't conditioned you as well as I thought." I don't look up as I hear him and the child exit. Her blood continues to perfume the air. I clutch at my head, still fighting the hunger. He returns. "Tsk, tsk. I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to these methods anymore, Madelyn." I the faint slither of metal. "Look at me, Madelyn. Look at your master." I cover my face, cowering. But under my hands, my face is more serene than it should be. Until...CRACK. Sharp steel bites into my flesh. I yelp and pull my bloodied hands from my face. In my master's grasp is the whip. The same whip that took most of the skin from my back when I turned 17. The weapon that whipped me raw. He raises his arm to strike again. Looking him dead in the eye, I shriek. Not out of fear, out of madness. The madness he inflicted on me. When the arm comes down I catch him by surprise and grab at the steel cords, even as they taste my flesh again. Any humor in his face dissolves. "You...DARE?! Have you lost all your manners?" And he's in front of me, hand around my throat, lifting me to my feet. I growl and he slams me against the wall hard enough that I feel the brick shudder. Dazed, I still manage to struggle in his grip. Then, he's laughing again. "I should of known you'd be a handful. That's just fine..." He presses himself against me, running his tongue along my jawline. "...I wouldn't haven't any other way." He releases his grip, and before I can regain my bearings, I'm struck again. Again, I grab at the whip. Anger dissipated, he laughs in deranged glee. The whip catches me across the hip, cutting to the bone. It slips through my fingers to snap around my shoulder. Again. Ripping into to my chest. Across my knees, and I fall. His arm raises, falls. Raises, falls. Every inch of me feels flayed and raw. Even imbibed with whatever cursed strength he's given me, I fold to his will. The last blow cutting along the side of my face. He's panting with exertion. Me, with agony. My blood pools on the concrete. I lay in the puddle, broken beyond human limits. Eyes bleary with my own blood. I hear the whip fall to the floor. I hear his belt buckle snapping open. There's no fight left as he climbs on top of me. My head falls to the side, my mind absent as he violates my ruined form.

The next night, he brings the child back in. Languid from loss of blood, my mind unsound, I feed. Her blood is the sweetest nectar. Her innocent screams sound like music to me. My maker watches with a pleased smile. When her small body is spent, I find myself humming quietly, high on her life fluid. He holds a hand out to me, enticing me to dance to the tune shared in our minds. And I go. Willingly.

I fight to stand up but I can’t breathe. The voices scream, the enemy takes over everything. This is the madness in me.

October of 1954

"I have a special gift for my monster." The mad vampire looks over at me with a generous smile.
He gestures me forward and I obey, kneeling by his feet. I glance up at him, meeting his gaze unwaveringly, even through the uneasiness. "A...gift?" I repress a shudder, remembering some of his "gifts" from the past year. The wounds from his last gift still itch with healing.
"Yes. A gift for my monster. You've behaved so well, lately..." It's true. It took months upon months but I've been conditioned to accept this madman's torturous ways. It's easier this way, isn't it? He hardly ever needs his mind tricks to keep me placid. Although, it's still necessary to anesthetize my mind for some of his more...carnal needs. Briefly overwhelmed with revulsion, I lower my face and try to unclench my hands as the knuckles turn white. Calm, Madelyn. Keep yourself calm. It's safer..I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing just enough to regain my attention. "Now, now dearest. Is that anyway to think of your master?" Grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, he lifts me to my feet. His hand combs through the tangles of my hair. My face is resigned, waiting for the moment the gentle hand turns painful and cruel. Instead, he presses my head into his chest. "Why don't you put something nice on? I want you to look impeccable for when I give my gift to you." I nod in assent. Walking towards the rack that holds the few garments he allows me to wear, I pause with my hand on one of the frilly dresses. Gift. He's giving me a gift. A wayward thought comes to me. Maybe...maybe he's finally setting me free. I'm too wise to think he'd actually let me go, but maybe he's grown bored and decided to end this pitiable excuse for a life he's made for me. Do I really want to die? I think of his inhuman strength, the variety of mental and physical weapons he has. Do I really have a choice. Suddenly he's in front of me, my arm twisted in his hand painfully. "Patience grows thin, monster!" He growls at me.
I whimper quietly. "Sorry! I'm sorry...sir. I'll get dressed right now." His face softens slightly at my respectful tone. He releases my arm, taking a seat on the mattress. I don't hesitate when removing my worn clothing. Knowing I've already tempted his anger, and that he would see my hesitation and punish me. I catch a glance of lust on the deviants face before I slip on a white, lacy dress. My stomach turns. Please, not that again. If he's going to kill me, just let him kill me. I stand before him, eyes cast down demurely.
He holds his hand out for mine and I oblige, managing to not grimace at the feel of his dry, cold lips on my palm. He pulls me down next to him. "My lovely monster. My Madelyn. You've given me so much since I've taken you. So much..." His hand idly caresses my exposed thigh. "I want to give you something. Something I'm not sure if you'll want, but you WILL like it. I'll make sure of that." He smiles and brushes my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck. I think of being free, and manage a wan smile of my own. Leaning forward, he grips my chin, turning my head to the side. "Such a dear girl. Always willing to please." I feel his mouth on my throat and I know. If this is how it must be done. I smile even as a tear or two fall from the corners of my eyes. I remove my hands from my lap and tentatively wrap them around this beast who has tortured and tormented me for upwards of a year. At my assenting touch, he bites down with a hungry snarl. His fangs sink into my flesh for what I can only hope is the last time.

Several moments pass. I can almost hear my heart slowing over the guttural sounds of the beast drinking away my life. My eyes open to take a last glance at my prison. My father stands a few feet away, a distressed look on his face. He places a finger over his lips before I open my mouth to greet him. "Maddie. You can't give in like this. It's not you. You're stronger than that." I look at the image of my father in helplessness. What else can I do, daddy? I can't do this. It's too much. I'm not strong enough to deal with anything else. My head starts to feel woozy. "Are you foolish enough to believe he's letting you go? This is only the beginning of the torture." 
My mind is assaulted with images. Horrible images of what's to come. I realize what's in store for me with a small gasp. At the sound, the beast pushes me roughly into the mattress, holding my arms down as he continues to greedily drink my blood. I struggle in his grasp, but it just seems to entice him. I feel evidence of his feverish excitement pressing against me. Switching to a one handed grip, he hold my arms above me as his other hand creeps between us to pull his belt open. Loss of blood has made me weak, but I still fight like a mad woman when I feel his flesh against mine. I pull my leg up and sink my knee into his stomach. He's caught off guard long enough so that I manage to squirm out of his clutches. My head spins and I fall to the filthy floor, struggling against a wave a blackness. My throat is still weeping blood as I crawl over to one of the tables and grab a knife with my blood slippery hand. I prop myself against the wall and point the knife towards the monster with a shaky hand. He's still standing at the bed, a bemused expression on his face. "That's my monster. A fighter until the end." Before I can blink he's squatting in front of me, holding the wrist with the knife. "Too bad this isn't the end for you." He laughs, the sound quiet in my dying ears. "Go ahead, monster! Cut me! MAKE ME BLEED FOR YOU!" He sticks his tongue out and uses the knife in my hand to slice the organ in two. I release my weak grip on the blade in disgust and part my lips in a breathless shriek. The beast throws the knife to the side and pulls my face into his, thrusting his bleeding tongue into my mouth. I gag and try to clamp my lips closed but he grabs my face and pinches his fingers into my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. I choke on the hot blood trickling down my throat. The taste is sickening and maddening and...delicious. I feel the abnormal fluid filling me with strength. I stop trying to push him away and instead place my hands on the side of his head, forcing his mouth onto mine harshly. The beast makes a deep sound in his throat and starts to pull back. I respond with a growl of my own and bite down on his torn tongue, releasing more of this cursed liquid, swallowing it with greed. I hear his laugh echoing in my head impossibly and remove my mouth from his. Panting like an animal, I stare at him through strange clouded vision. Everything is so vivid, yet so...hazy. What the hell is happening to me?! A tremor courses through my body, quickly followed by a sharp bolt of pain. I frantically wipe at my lips, spitting to remove the trace of the monster's blood from my mouth. "It's too late, Madelyn. Welcome to the first of your endless nights with me." He doubles over in laughter. My muscles tense and relax with some unknown change. I curl into a ball, keening to myself as my heart flutters irregularly. With a final, damning thump...it stops. My mind races, thoughts chasing each other like lions and hyenas. All I can think about is blood and blood and pain and more blood. I cover my ears to block the vampire's mad laughter, nails digging into my scalp. He's made me like him! No no no. Like him! I cut my wailing off to a low moan as I envision myself exacting abominable suffering upon the creature than did this. Soon the moaning turns into my own malevolent snickering. My maker and I meet eyes, joined in ill humor. Just you wait. Hehehehe. Wait. I'll kill you. Hehehe. You'll pay. Hehehehehe.