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All you have to do is wright a story about your charicter. It can be about how they became a vampire, something that happened to them, anything you can think of. There is no limit on what you wright.

My entry -Below-

Once Bitten: Twice Ruthless (work in progress)

First, there was the sound - the loud cheering and chanting like some cacophonous orchestra from hell, they were shouting, screaming, roaring. It sounded animalistic, savage cheering for whomever they thought would be victorious, although, already, I knew they thought I had no chance. Secondly was the smell; that raw musky smell of sweat dripping from the bodies of almost everybody, both within the pit and outside of it, the sour smell of gone off blood tainting my nose. The feelings of pure energy, aggression, anger, perhaps even a little hate. Last was the view; I looked up at my opponent, tall, strongly built, his eyes a deep red. Several scars upon his chest that was at least twice as muscular as mine was, built like a barrel. I felt a little sweat down my back as I came to realize that this was not going to be as easy as I had expected it to be. I only hoped that if I managed to dethrone the prince I could gain some control, stop all of this unnecessary fighting. Whilst the humans are weak and squabble amongst each other, they do have some good qualities - democracy being one of them - which I admired even though my Brothers did not.
He smiled grimly, looking at me face to face as was custom before a bout started. He muttered beneath his breath so only I could hear as he laughed sarcastically “it’s not too late to run little one, save yourself...I know we wouldn’t think badly of you throwing away your pride”. I looked him in the eyes grinning as if amused “luckily I know of your type: all talk and no action”. With that last jest, he drew his head back, slamming it down upon me, tears flooding my eyes as I felt my nose shatter like glass. My vision was blurry as I stood up, wiping my eyes, despite the pain surging through my face the way fire runs across oil. I shook my head to try to compose myself, waiting for my time to strike. Shouting to the crowd, blood on his face dripping into the sand, he laughed, mockingly “see? This whelp will never take my throne from me, I would sooner let a human take my place!” I looked over at him, his back turned, and leapt into the air ramming my knee into his ribcage, hearing a satisfactory brittle snapping sound; he roared somewhere between pain and as anger I dropped my elbow, letting it fall onto his head, my arm shaking with the force of the blow as I landed a loud thudding noise, my elbow impacting with his head.
However, I had left myself open. He turned on his heel, leaning a little, clearly dizzy, swinging out wildly with the back of his fist. It caught me in the face; feeling a tooth become loose and blood pour into my mouth I was bashed up against the wall like a ship off the rocks, my lip splitting down the middle. Nearly blacking out as I pushed my shoulder back into its socket, my head arched back roaring in agony and fury. He walked over rubbing his head mockingly “see, the pup lacks the power. Seems for all his talk he is weak,” he said lifting me by my throat launching me once again against the opposite wall. A flash of black and I was back, sweat beading on my head. He stood over me as I looked down at the sand bringing my arm up in time to defend my ribs as he kicked, lifting me from the floor slightly, as blood sprayed out of my mouth, the sour taste making me retch as I landed, sand rising up in a cloud from the floor. Rolling onto my back, I leaned up against the wall, my mouth resembling a wolf fresh from the hunt with bloodied fangs bared, ready for the kill.

He looked up again at the crowd a good nine feet above us and smiled "when I beat him perhaps I should make a wife of him”, laughing sadistically. I seized my opportunity, shifting over to his left. A little more than a blur of fear, shock, despair, and I was upon him slamming the knife-edge of my palm into his throat. I listened, grinning in satisfaction, as his breathing became ragged, his pale flesh dotted with beads of sweat, hands grabbing at his throat desperately. Kicking his right knee, feeling his leg snap like a brittle wishbone, I roared savagely tilting my head back into a feral scream, noticing my Brothers above me falling deathly silent. I looked over at him on his knees, clasping his throat. I wished that I did not have to kill him, but I knew if I spared him, any respect I gained would be lost. He would do everything within his power to undermine me. The only thing I despised about my kind was our lust for power - or should I say their lust for power.
With that thought in mind, I spun on my heel, kicking him square in the face, bringing him down to the floor with a dull thud, crimson staining the sand. Looking down into his eyes a slight chill descended my spine, a strange mixture of both resent and excitement. All I saw in his eyes was fear, despair, and a look that seemed to ask for mercy. Shaking my head laughing, I sadistically brought my foot up in a savage arc, slamming my heel down upon his throat, feeling his esophagus shut. Blood trickling from his lip, he passed over into the next life. "Better luck next time, perhaps" I muttered cockily, standing, looking back at the corpse, not happy, but with a small sense of achievement running through me, as the brothers above me looked down in disbelief “he...hasn’t....it cannot be.....he reigned for 357 years.....” I began to walk off towards the side passage, rapping upon it, as someone shouted. "BUT he has done it” someone from within the crowd shouted, everyone beginning to clap a little at first, then breaking into wild shouting and screaming “indeed bravo......never has one so young done so well.....marvelous” I turned, simply raising my hand in thanks, then walked towards my coffin, the dark corridors still lit with torchlight. Needing to rest and recuperate after such an ordeal, a slim smile traced across my face, my split lip sealing up a little. I turned the corner into my small room. The underground tunnels were not ideal, they were always cold and made things like lice easier to spread, which was why at current we had all taken to burning off our bodily hair with torches and shaving more sensitive areas. The thing I missed more than anything was Rena, but if my fellow brothers and Sisters found out I had become involved with a human, no doubt she and I would both die. However, the coven was not all bad, there was the hall where we ate and drank. I sat at my desk and began to write a letter, hoping to post it later that day.
Dear Rena,
The Business is going well, babe, we made a new deal with Orison today and should be making more contacts through them in the future. I will send some money home as soon as I can get it. I am well as I am sure you would be pleased to know, I even started going to the gym and have gained quite a bit of muscle. If you had a computer, I would send you some pictures - I think you would be impressed. I miss you more than words can suffice to convey. I hope you are in the very best of health; yours forever and always. Much love,
Kaleb
xxxxxx

I hated lying to her it, but was the only way I could ensure her protection until I could either change their views or leave the coven. Fearing that the latter would be my only option, I had scheduled a meeting later on in the halls a few hours before nightfall, so if I had to run I could escape without the sun nipping at my heels. In addition, I knew that once I left the coven, I would not be followed, since they only ever left to feed. But even then it would be a case of grab someone and drag them inside, not pursue them or try and tempt them, just a merciless beating, resulting in their prey being dragged down into the shadowy depths to be drained until they end up as dry as a husk. I paced up and down the length of my room, fretfully, perhaps even a little fearfully, struggling to get a decent argument together. “******** it…” I decided to come out with it “…and if anyone attempts anything, I will kill them on the spot.” I laughed a little to myself. A few of my brothers had taken to calling me Misfit because of my modern views and the way I discarded the old ways so quickly. It was stupid... I did not discard the old ways, they were just outdated, needed freshening up. We all knew we could live without killing humans and merely take what we needed. I preferred to carry my syringe; I would break into a hotel room and listen for someone snoring, sleeping deeply with a slow heartbeat, I would push the needle into a vain, arm raised with my chloroform rag at hand ready to put them back to sleep if they were to awake. Once the syringe filled, I would take out another filling, 3 ready to be poured back into a vial once I got back to the coven. On average, a vial of blood (500milileters) would last me about a night, though the others in the coven would sometimes consume a whole human’s worth in one night. I felt it unnecessary to drain nearly 8 pints when I could live off a meager 500ml a night.
“It is truly ludicrous,” I muttered, lying back into my coffin, my head swimming with thoughts and worries. I slid my hand into the lining slightly, removing a photograph, smiling happily at the image, all the thoughts being rushed away as if by magic. It was a photograph of Rena that I took when we were younger and I was but a half vampire. The sun did not affect me. It was in Spain on the beach so I took a photo of her. It is beautiful not only because I can see the sun rising, but because I can see her in all her beauty once more. I waited for the dreaded meeting, a smile enveloping my face as I fell asleep.
I awoke, my breathing coming heavily, cold steel against my throat. My breathing stopped. I looked up at my assailant, his cold eyes staring back at me “drop your Rank and leave, or die”, I looked up at him trying to fool him “and if I leave you won’t hurt me?” He moved the knife from my throat a little; I felt like grinning but held myself as he spoke, “yes, if you leave without protest, you can live”. I looked down at the blade still too close to my jugular, and looked back up into his eyes, “ok, let me up and I will leave. Keep your blade at my back if you don’t trust me,” I said, knowing very well that one stab would not kill me. Leaning forward a little, standing, exposing my back, I listened intently. The sleeve of his shirt ruffled as I took my chance, craning my neck back, smashing the back of my head into his nose. I leant forwards grabbing the knife and his arm smashing, it down onto my knee, bringing him with it, the knife sliding across the floor under my cupboard. I grasped his hair, foolishly left long, which was a weakness in any fight as far as I was concerned. I reached out grabbing at his hair smashing his head off my knee, smiling at his small painful grunt as he fell unconscious; I rose and walked out of my room, dragging him along by the hair alongside me, hoping to set an example as I walked into the meeting hall.
I looked around the room hoping to spot someone’s face dropping when realizing the assassin’s endeavor was unsuccessful. Sadly, nobody rose to my bait, all staying as straight-faced and nonchalant as ever. I kicked the man at my feet, grinning at the feel of a rib breaking. He began to shout, my hand gripping his hair firmly, lifting his head, silencing him instantly. I looked up at my so-called Brothers and Sisters. “Who sent him?....Tell me or he dies” I stooped a little, kicking the man in the ribs, sending him sprawling across the floor into the front of the seating with an agonizing yell that even hurt me a little to hear. I looked up, my face as straight as the crow flies “Everyone, I’m not joking he will die”. I paced slowly towards the man, cracking my knuckles, lifting him off of the ground as I bashed his head against the marble rim, laughing sadistically, looking up “going once…” I bashed his head again. “Twice…” A man in the upper corner shouted “enough! He’s had enough”, I dropped the man as the blood dribbled off the marble down onto the cold floor, a crimson puddle developing at my feet. I looked up at this new face, recognizing it immediately “what is he to you?” I said kicking the man in the gut, sending a jet of blood out onto the floor as he doubled over, grasping at my leg weakly. I shook him off, lifting my leg a little as he drew back fearing another kick. I looked up at the small runt of a man. He stuttered “I...iiit was for th...e good of th...e co...ven yo...u you wou...ld have done away wi...th the old ways.” He was hoping for someone to agree with him. I climbed up onto the marble edge, sitting cross-legged, contentedly looking at everyone “yes, I will do away with the old ways, if I can. The death of humans is unnecessary; I live on a meager five hundred milliliters a day, yet you must kill a person? I think not...” Some of the people in the stands shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Raising my voice a little, “I wish to bring in a new order. The old rules are...valid… but just not sensible anymore. What will we do when the incinerator breaks down and someone has to leave a body in the streets?” They fell silent. I only hoped my words had effect. I looked up at the scrawny weasel-faced man who sent the assassin. “Would you care to share his fate?” I asked, pointing to the man on the floor, a visible crack in his skull, blood leaking out, while his heartbeat slowed with each passing second. The weasel-faced instigator was now shaking visibly. “Nnn...ooo no” I looked up at the man with all seriousness “Then leave. And anyone else who is against my new ways can join him. I will not take this lightly”. I glanced at him walking down from the seating area, as another - this time a sister - grabbed his arm “we don’t have to do this lets make a stand!” On hearing this I rose up instantly, vaulting off of the railings and kicking the woman in the face before grabbing her on the ground and swiftly snapping her neck, killing her instantly, with a sound not unlike bubble wrap crossed with knuckles cracking. Next, I heard a dull thud, felt a sharp blinding pain, and sank into utter blackness…
I weakly opened my eyes, the heat on my back so intense I feared I would blackout. Squinting, I looked around, trying to figure out my whereabouts. A tree? Yes, a tree. I tried to move, pulling hard, trying to get away the strain against my wrists and the smell of burning meat assaulting my nostrils. The sweat on my face making my eyes sting I tried turning myself a little to the left, shuffling weakly around, hoping to get the sun to burn the flesh from my wrists as I could squeeze the bone through. I gritted my teeth, biting down on my bottom lip, as I pulled myself around, my brittle back red and bloody, the skin physically peeling from it. I bit deeply into my lip, my breathing becoming heavy and ragged as the sun began to do its work. I leant back with all my weight both trying to pull my hands away in cowardice and knowing that I would fall back once my flesh has burnt enough. I grimaced, my lip now bleeding profusely, as my flesh roasted in the rising sun. Head butting the tree, cursing loudly, slipping in and out of consciousness, the scent of my own burning flesh making me cringe; I laughed a little thinking to myself “it’s funny if someone else burns, but when its yourself it’s not so amusing...” I felt my flesh peeling away from my bone, leaning back experimentally, the rope slid over my arm a little resting just beyond my thumbs against my bone. I gagged at the imagery it conjured within my head, I grimaced a little as I put my feet up against the tree, bridging the small gap adequately, my black shoes shining with the blood from my lip. I breathed out deeply in anticipation, closing my eyes as I kicked off the tree, the sickening sound of my thumbs dislocating as I fell to the floor, silent as a mouse despite the blinding pain racing around my body.
Looking around for nearby shade or sun cover to recuperate I shook my head grimly at the bin a few feet away, the sun nearly upon me, as I began to crawl weakly, each tiny movement causing splintering fire-like pain to spread around my back, hands now become pretty much numb being scorched down mostly to the bone around the wrists and down to the base of my thumbs. My face contorted in agony as I crawled up to the bin, looking up at it, not wanting to stand for fear of splitting in two, chuckling dryly at that image as I grasped the top of the bin with both hands, trembling all over, gritting my teeth, my spilt lip stinging, the blood beginning to dry out, not able to shake the unpleasant taste in my mouth. I leant against the bin weakly as I lifted the lid, leaning into it, trying to flip myself into it, I leant back then shoved all my weight forwards, falling head over heels onto the glass bottles inside, wincing as some glass cut into my ribs - a shallow cut but it stung a little nonetheless. I fidgeted restlessly, the bottles beneath me jingling noisily as I shut the lid on the bin, closing my eyes, trying to sleep.
I woke up aching all over, my head feeling as if a horse had just kicked it. I shook my head opening the bin lid a tiny little bit with a grimace as some glass sliced my lower back. I ignored it and got up with a grin as the cut began to seal. The insistent itching making me smile, a familiar feeling as the night sky graced me again, the bin lid flung open. I breathed in the cool air loudly, cringing a little at the small pain in my now scarred back, a deep red patch vertically up it, my shirt hanging in torn rags. Losing it altogether, casting it out into the glass, staring at my reflection. That incandescent glow that my kind carried had faded, I felt not with myself the dull pale character staring back at me I did not like... I knew what I needed, the question was where from? Standing with a light grimace, leaping from the bin, the tree still stained with that bloody crimson patch marking my defeat, I walked head held low into the town, not even looking where I was going, just walking, like a lost ship, sails torn off, just letting the current take it. In my case, the current was the smell - that sweet coppery scent, that indescribable divine essence leading my feet… Humans - or more vitally the crimson life flowing through them - being all I needed to feel myself again.
He looked up from sleeping, awakened by a dark shadow passing by, the presence of this stranger scared him, he just had that aura of darkness about him, something about the way he looked perhaps as he passed, wearing black jeans and boots, eyes an odd crimson color. Perhaps he was an albino. His grey hair would add to that point but there was something about him - not his clothes or the way he looked - he was just odd. Who walks around at 4am half-naked and covered in scars and bruises… a bare-knuckle fighter? No, he was too slim a build. He shook it off and got back into his old sleeping bag, eyes closed tightly, the bag cushioning him, hiding him like a child. He felt a hand or a touch on his bag and went stiff as a board “H...hello?....ccc...ann I help you?” he said pitifully as the man spoke quietly and surprisingly calm, ripping the bag away from him, lifting him up against the wall. “Yes, you can help me, just as your kind always has” the pale man said, his cold stare cutting through me as I wet myself, marking the pure fear, the man’s clawed hand upon my throat, “Disgusting” he snarled as he bit me deeply upon my throat, sucking at it greedily in a similar fashion to a leech, my life being drawn away with every moment then I blacked out
I sat up from the cold corpse, enjoying the odd silence, as I threw it to the floor like discarded rubbish. He would not be missed, I doubted anyone even knew he was missing or cared to find him. Perhaps I was even kind to end his life. I licked my lip with a big grin, the taste still in my mouth, and contemplated my next move. I had to find 2 things: more blood, and somewhere to rest during the day, a roof over my head. I looted the corpse finding ten pounds in change, shrugging “Should be enough for a motel” I said with a smile, walking away from the cold alley out into the main part of town, wiping any blood from my mouth, as I spotted a B&B (bed and breakfast) and decided to call it a night. Walking in through the door my senses picked up, nose physically twitching a little, the scent of blood rife as I noticed a bloody stain on the counter, coagulating slowly, having already formed a harsh crimson stain on the soft wood by seeping deeply into it. I paused for a second, inhaling deeply, swaying a little, the scent of human blood being almost too much for me to handle. I sat back next to a bloodied corpse, kicking it of the bench, lowering myself down as it hit the ground. The neck was torn open, the head hanging limply, a large amount of it having been eaten. I shook my head repulsed by the savagery of the event - this was too much for me even. This was definitely not the work of vampires. The head was hanging at a limp angle with a few tendons and a scraggly scrap of skin just keeping it on, the dead eyes seemed absent. I doubt he saw it coming. I surveyed the scene, my stomach churning as if it were a washing machine full of marbles.
My mind at that very instant drifted to Rena, and if my dead heart could beat it would have stopped again. I composed myself, standing up; the blood on the floor having thickened like a thick mat of treacle made horrid squelching sounds, as I thought, “what if whatever did this is still here?” The contradiction that I had been living struck me. Tolerance est rectum of pallens. Back in the coven, I had learnt that the biggest weakness anyone could have was tolerance. Why take abuse if you can just snuff it out like a badly lit candle with a simple breath? This was how I saw the humans: little lights I could switch off and bring back from the ashes if it pleased me to do so. Tolerance is the virtue of the weak, yet here I was - hopelessly in love with none other than a human. I began to laugh despite my circumstance, walking upstairs to scope out the rooms. Not a single heartbeat no matter how hard I pushed my finely tuned senses, but I had no concern for leaving any stone uncovered only to find myself in danger unnecessarily putting myself at risk because of my own complacency. My hand already gripping the 9mm berretta in the back of my pants as I spoke ’Come out, if anyone’s there make yourself known…’ my voice gradually trailed off I was pretty sure that whatever was responsible for this mess was neither human or like myself I just prayed it wasn’t a Lycan.

Is Lemon allowed..and yaoi...