Prelude

Chapter 1

A/N: A little something as I await the fourth film :)

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     A tall, shadowy figure fled through the dark forest, sleek and silent, moving quickly but carefully between the trees and cautiously avoiding snapping any twigs. He was fast, hoping to put as much distance between him and the smoking husk he'd once called his home.

      Don't look back.

     He didn't need any light to see where he was going, nor even for sound to guide his steps. He knew exactly where he had gone, what was there, and everything around him. The woods were safe; nothing here could hurt him for now. The moon shone bright overhead through the branches of the trees, though it was nothing compared to how brilliantly the fire had blazed. The flames had burned him, and he'd inhaled a great amount of smoke before bolting from the place. It didn't matter though. Vampires healed quickly, and he could feel the skin strengthening and repairing itself as were his lungs. Still, his powers couldn't mend the raw pain he'd felt from his loss.

     Don't look back.

     He needed to move faster. He would not let himself get caught. Not now. His only chance at survival depended on speed. If he couldn't escape then he would be destroyed, or captured. Either outcome surely meant something terrible. So he moved on with purpose, determined to go farther from the village. Farther from the real monsters.

     Don't look back.

     As he gained distance, his pacing began to slow, senses becoming more alert. He paused momentarily when reaching a clearing and took a look around. There were no signs of anyone else here. Nothing but the trees and grass. He perked an ear to listen. No other sounds reached him... save for the distant crackle of flames that could be heard even from miles away. He shuddered, and attempted to suppress the unnatural sensation of fear that coursed through his system.

     Don't look back... don't look back... don't look back...

     The mantra repeated in his mind again. He tried his best to push down the nerves and concentrate on what he had to do. Concentrate on getting away before they came back, before they found him, and before he suffered the same fate that his wife had - the mother of their one and now only child.

     Don't look back... don't look back...

     He took a step forward.

     Don't look back.

     He took another.

     Don't look back.

      He stopped, unable to bear it any longer.

      Taking a deep breath, he turned, facing the direction he'd come in. The second he drank in the sight, he almost instantly regretted the action. The castle, once grand in its former glory, stood engulfed in a sea of flames. Thick black plumes of smoke rose high into the air in a constant stream. His head spun from the variety of emotions swirling inside - anger, regret, guilt, angst - it seemed to weigh on him so heavily that he wasn't sure if he could even begin to comprehend them all.

     At once, memories flooded his mind. Memories of the time when it was still whole. When they were all together. Where nothing ever came between them or hurt them... Where there was no pain, no worry, no wariness... when they were happy. It almost felt like a lifetime ago, despite the fact that his bliss had only come crashing down less than an hour before.

     His heart ached.

     He hadn't been ready for this, though a part of him felt as though he should have anticipated it all along. It was no secret to either of them how difficult the last few months had been. The movement against monsters had continued to grow larger and more dangerous each day, with talk of beasts and demonic beings circulating from town to town until the humans finally decided to take action. Countless rumors spread that claimed the two had preyed on the villagers, often engaging in unprecedented acts of violence. Some said they attacked groups in full force. Others claimed that they struck from the shadows and only targeted those who stood alone. Whatever the case may be, it was enough to drive the people to eliminate the source of their fear.

      But rumors were just that - rumors. None of them were true.

      And it had cost Martha her life.

      He swallowed a lump in his throat, and continued plodding through the forest. There were far more important matters to deal with at the moment. He clutched the precious bundle in his arms closer to his chest, the baby being one of the only things that had survived the night besides the clothes on his back.

     She hadn't stirred thus far, having fallen asleep shortly after the brunt of the destruction had occurred. He took a better look at her now - the girl's eyes were closed peacefully, her chest gently rising and falling in perfect cadence. There was no sign of distress on her face whatsoever. He lightly traced the softness of her cheek with his fingers. She was too young... too innocent to know about the evil deed that had befallen her mother. A wistful smile played at his lips as he brushed a lock of dark hair from her forehead. There was no doubt she would grow to be just as beautiful as her.

     He sighed, holding back a sob but unable to prevent the lone tear from slipping down his cheek. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not for her. Not for him. Martha was supposed to live. His mind flashed back to the exact moment it happened - her scream of terror as she'd collapsed to the ground, the wooden stake mercilessly sticking out of her chest...

     A sickly bile rose in the back of his throat, and he hastily wiped the moisture from his eyes. He had to cast the image from his mind; it wouldn't do any good to dwell on those dark memories.

     For now, he strove to move on. For his daughter's sake, and his own.