THE STORY OF HOW I BECAME A VAMPIRE

Since the Great Revelation there are even more rules for vampires to follow. It is no longer acceptable for humans to simply go missing. When Malcolm abducts a young woman and holds her captive it is up to Eric to pass judgement. This is the story of how a young woman, Adrienne, became a vampire. It chronicles her abduction and turning, how she adapts to being a vampire, and finally how she is thrust into vampire politics.

Author: ladeesarah001
Category: True Blood
Rating: M (mature themes)
Setting: Season one / AU-Alternative Universe
Characters: Eric, Godric, OC-Original character, Pam
Published: September 21, 2009
Completed: No

NOTES: I expect each part to be short, no more than 1,000 words. I intend to tell the story using little snippets from different points of view as narration. While the story is primarily based in the world created by the television series, elements from Charlaine Harris' books are present.

Disclaimer: True Blood (including its recipe) does not belong to me, we have to thank Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball for that, however, Adrienne and much of this plot is mine.

Part I – Attracted

Malcolm's POV

Diane was a young vampire, barely 80 years old, striking in appearance and ferocious in personality. She had coffee coloured skin, something that was very unusual and exotic for a vampire, and wild tastes to match her hair. My other nest mate, Liam, was even younger. Liam is just as striking as Diane, but for completely different reasons. The vampire was covered in tattoos. They acted as both a help and a hindrance when trying to attract a meal; some humans loved them while others hated them. Fangbangers loved them though. The tattoos made him look scary so the bloodbags flocked to his side. A tattooed vampire was all the better for flirting with death apparently.

Tonight I was seated in a booth at the vampire bar Fangtasia. In my hands I toyed with an empty bottle of True Blood, the hideous concoction that had allowed vampires to come out and also satisfied our dietary needs; it tasted vile. The bar was decorated in black and rich blood reds with pictures of all the grossly inaccurate depictions of vampires from Hollywood movies. Filled with hot and sweaty bloodbags, who desired little more than to catch a glimpse of a vampire, the bar was vastly unappealing. Fangtasia was however, owned by Eric Northman the sheriff of this area of Louisiana, area five. In return for permission to reside in the area Eric requires that I appear for no less than fifteen hours a month at his bar and allow the tourists to ogle me. The tourists and fangbangers made the chore very nearly intolerable, but there were worse sheriffs.

After fulfilling my obligations at Fangtasia for the evening I started home. My nest mates had kept me amused for decades, but tonight something new caught my interest. I spotted the most delectable human I'd seen in centuries. She walked along the sidewalk with the self-assuredness that was common in this decade, wearing four inch heels that were equally as plentiful. Her thick and slightly wavy golden blonde hair fell to just below her shoulders and seemed to glow in the moonlight. The colour enhanced by the classic yet modest knee-length dress she wore. Mine, the thought reverberated through my mind with incredible force.

Before the Great Revelation I wouldn't have thought twice about snatching this woman from the street and erasing her from the world. Her only futures were to either become a corpse in a back alley somewhere or a companion of mine for all eternity. Either way, she would not be seen nor heard of by her family and friends ever again. Now, however, there were rules to follow. Eric would not be pleased if I didn't follow them. Then again, I am very old, though not as old as the Viking; I will do what pleases me.

Darting forward at vampire speed I grabbed the woman from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle the inevitable screams. From this proximity her sweet blood calls to me and her futile struggles only serve to stir up my predatory instincts. Inhaling deeply of the skin at the base of her neck I am torn from my reflections by a slender elbow thrust into my ribs; annoying. Obviously, the human sought to injure me, but I knew that she caused far more damage to herself in her attempt.

This woman's spirit made her more troublesome to subdue, but it also increased my interest in her exponentially. It had been some time since I had had a human with so much fight; perhaps I wouldn't bother to glamour her? Her ineffectual struggles were becoming a bore and an inconvenience so I gave her a sharp tap on the head rendering her unconscious; subsequently it was much easier to toss her on the backseat of my car.

After depositing her unceremoniously on a dusty bed in a part of the house that could be easily secured, I made certain that Diane and Liam understood, in no uncertain terms, that she was mine. Settling in a chair to wait for her to awaken I amused myself by going through her purse. There wasn't much to see: makeup, a mobile phone, a handful of business cards, and half a packet of something that would supposedly soothe a sore throat. Flicking through the business cards there was one for a restaurant, Litaliano; it reminded me that I would have to feed my new toy. Once located, her driver's licence informed me that her name was Adrienne Forster. Adrienne was not a common name at the moment.

Finally, impatience won out and I shook the human in an attempt to rouse her. She didn't stir. Not that it mattered; she didn't necessarily have to be awake for me to enjoy her company.

Sitting on the edge of the bed I smoothed her hair before tracing a finger along her jaw and across her collar bones. Slowly, seductively, my fingers trailed their way down her arm until I held her hand in my own and raising it to my lips I kissed her hand before sucking one of her fingers into my mouth. A glance at her face confirmed that she was still unconscious, despite my ministrations. Breaking the skin with my fangs that had run out ages ago, I began to slowly suck her finger. The drops of sweet blood that caressed my tongue were a paradox to the synthetic True Blood I had been drinking earlier tonight. Closing my eyes to bask in the pleasurable sensation I sucked harder, resisting the urge to enlarge the wound, I stayed mindful of the fact I couldn't take too much blood without weakening her. I would need her to stay strong if I wished to enjoy her struggles when she helped me take care of the situation her blood had evoked. Her blood type was AB negative, unless I was mistaken, it was the rarest and I had always found it to be the most arousing.

A/N: So there's part one. Hopefully it is suitably creepy, I thought Malcolm was creepy when I watched the series. Leave me a review and share your thoughts. Like? Dislike? Creeped out? Let me know :)