AN: Does anyone even read author's notes? Ah well. So, this is the first fanfiction I've written in like what, ten years or something, and my first Tanz der Vampire fanfic. I know there's a lot of argument in this fandom about how the story/characters are interpreted so I'll go ahead and give you a heads up about some things: If you hate Sarah Chagal and expect me to kill her off or something, this fic is not for you. If you hate the Krolock/Sarah ship, this isn't for you (though I will try to keep it reasonable and in character so don't expect them to be all over each other immediately). I would say the same for Alfred/Herbert but that's where I agree with most of the fandom. Everybody loves them. And I've come up with a few rules/headcanons explaining further details but I guess you'll see those all in time. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

About halfway down the mountain on which the castle was perched, the professor was finding himself becoming quite exhausted, as the steep incline and speed at which he was running was beginning to take its toll on his frail body. As much as he loved adventures like this, he was really starting to get a bit too old for the physical side of it.

"Professor, can we rest for a bit? Sarah can barely stand!" Alfred called out to him, trying in vain to help the girl up, but she wasn't moving. The only way to tell she wasn't dead was by the slight rise and fall of her bloodstained chest.

"Of course, but just for a minute or two, we don't want them catching up to us!"

Sitting down to scribble away some notes and ideas, Abronsius once again became lost in his own little world, oblivious to everything around him. Finishing his last note about the possibility of umbrellas being a good defense against the undead, he snapped his notebook shut with a triumphant grin.

"You see, my dear boy, even if we did not manage to actually kill any vampires, I did acquire a good deal of information during our little adventure! Pages and pages of new theories and descriptions, all my ideas alone! As soon as things calm down, I think we should return for further observations and—Alfred?"

Turning around, he realized that the boy, nor the girl whom they had saved, were with him. Standing in a panic, the professor called out both their names many times. There was no response.

Did one of those fiends swoop in and snatch them while my back was turned? He wondered furiously, starting to trudge through the snow. Or did that blasted girl turn into a vampire already? Pah-impossible! It took her father quite a few hours to complete the transformation…then again, he was frozen solid, so perhaps it would take him a bit longer…I must do more research on this whole business. But wait—if she is a vampire, then the first place she would go would be...

Before even finishing his thought, the professor began frantically running towards the village.

Even if I could not save the girl, I shall save someone this night! I must, if I am ever to receive any recognition. Theory alone is not enough to—

At this point, he lost his footing on the steep, icy incline of the hill, and fell forward, tumbling all the way to the bottom. Muttering curses, he brushed himself off and marched straight up to Chagal's inn and banged on the door.

"Madame Chagal! Madame Chagal! It is I, Professor Abronsius! I know the hour is late, but it is an emergency! Please, open the door!"

Not long after this desperate plea, the door was finally flung open to reveal the innkeeper's wife, fiercely wielding a rolling pin. Instinctively, Abronsius flinched back, covering his head.

"Oh, it is you," Rebecca muttered, lowering her weapon. "What do you want, Professor? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Not a clue, except that it is past midnight, and I fear the worst might be about to happen!"

"What are you on about?"

"I haven't time to explain, but you and every other living soul in this village must be on their guard to prepare for—"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a horrific shriek from outside.

"You see, it has already begun!" the professor cried with terror, pushing past Rebecca to get safely inside the inn before bolting the door behind him. "They are attacking!"

For once, the professor was right.

Sarah and Alfred, freshly reborn creatures of the night, had descended upon the village like a force of nature. Unfeeling and uncontrollable, they flew from house to house, kicking down doors, breaking through windows, and draining the life out of any victim they could find. Many fought back. Some were well armed enough with stakes that they even frightened away the inexperienced young vampires.

But of the two, Alfred was quite clearly the weakest. When the first villager, a baker who was quite close to the Chagal family, tried to protect himself using a crucifix, Sarah only laughed and crushed it with her bare hands before sinking her fangs into the poor man's throat. Alfred, however, was brought to his knees at the mere sight of the cross. After all, it was the symbol of the very same God he had been praying to only hours before—ironically, he had prayed that he, nor Sarah, would ever succumb to such an evil.

And yet, they had. The innocent had been corrupted, the prey had become the predator. The hero had become the villain.

Meanwhile, Abronsius and Rebecca became more and more terrified, hearing so many screams from every direction, never knowing if or when they would become the vampires' next meal. Daring to take a quick glance out of the small kitchen window, Madame Chagal gasped as she saw a female figure chasing after and tackling a man to the ground. It was too far away to tell who either of the two were, but she could see that the girl had long, red hair.

"Professor, you tell me this instant what has become of my daughter! I want to know right now if that creature outside is my Sarah!"

"I'm afraid it is...I'm deeply sorry, Madame Chagal, I tried to save her but the Graf—"

"Has destroyed everything I love! He and all of his kind! My poor Yoine, and now…now….!" she sputtered, hot tears starting to spill from her eyes as she furiously turned to the older man. "And you! You are nothing but a fool! A damned, gutless fool! You claim to be here to help us, but look what has happened since you came! Everything has fallen apart!"

"I…." Abronsius backed away, struggling to sputter out a defense for himself, but found himself speechless. With a deep shame, he realized he was not the man he thought he was. He fancied himself a hero, a savior of science and morality, who knew exactly what to do to protect the world from evil. Yet when directly faced with it, he had done nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was no better than his cowering assistant, whom he had criticized so harshly for not following up theory with practice. The poor boy was only following the example of his teacher.

"I can help now!" The professor suddenly exclaimed. Rebecca shot him a look of confusion and doubt, to which he hurriedly began explaining. "You are right, I have been gutless, but now I shall be brave. I'm old, I have no excuses for fearing death. So if I die tonight….well…at least my life will have been worth something."

This last part, he was not quite so sure of, but there was no backing out now. He could not live with himself if he just stood by and allowed more people to either be murdered or otherwise turned into vessels of Lucifer.

After a moment of consideration, Rebecca took a wreath of garlic from the wall and hung it around the Professor's neck. "You'll need this," she said, ignoring his protests about garlic not really working against vampires. "And I'm coming with you."

Not hesitating a moment further, Abronsius and the innkeeper's wife dared to step back outside into the cold. But things had grown much worse in just a few minute's time. Now, there was not only Sarah and Alfred, but several others were now swooping through the streets, terrorizing the peasants. It was impossible to tell how many, it was all happening so quickly.

The professor and Rebecca saw their chance when one of the undead was busy cornering a man between two buildings. Sneaking up behind the fiend, Rebecca held the stake steady, and with one heavy strike of his hammer, the professor drove the sharp point through his back. The vampire shrieked and fell to the ground, writhing in agony and twisting to try and remove the stake, as it had not quite pierced his heart. With another hit of the hammer, the professor put the creature out of his misery.

The man who had been saved in all of this promptly fainted from shock.

As glorious as this all was, our two vampire slayers were robbed of a potentially greater victory (or more likely, their imminent doom), as all the chaos and violence suddenly ceased. Everything was strangely silent. All of the vampires had simply disappeared.

No one knew how or why, but one person claimed to have seen the Graf.

To Sarah Chagal, this all felt like a dream. Everything that had happened while she was alive, everything that she had done in the village, it just didn't seem real. One would think it would all be more of a nightmare, but not to her. She just did not expect to become a nightmare for others.

That isn't to say she was completely ignorant of what would happen when she had chosen to run off to the castle. One would have to be remarkably dense to live in this town and not know just who and what lived there, and what she might become if she attended the ball. Knowing she was taking a risk was one of the reasons she even accepted the invitation. Of course, she had told herself that perhaps she wouldn't be bitten, or things would somehow take a different turn and she could return to her old life and be good, but secretly, she hoped they wouldn't.

However, she nor the rest of her town, had a full grasp on what vampirism would really be like. The only example she had to look to was the man who had brought her into this dark new world in the first place. And he always made it look so easy.

Thinking it over now, she supposed it was a bit presumptuous of her to believe that just because the Graf could practice self-control around humans meant that she would be able to. Sarah just had thought he would have been there to help her with all of that. But no, that idiotic professor had to drag her off at the last second. Ironic, she thought, how in doing that, the old man had ended up causing more harm than good.

But it was not just him who had made such a valiant yet dim-witted attempt to save her. There was also that sweet, innocent young boy who had been so strangely devoted to her from the very moment they met. For the life of her, she could not understand why…

At the thought of Alfred, she felt the first twinge of regret touch her now cold heart.

What have I done to him? She had wanted this, even if it wasn't what she thought it would be, but he never did.

Now staring at him, in his blood soaked clothes and with such a dead look in his eyes, he did not look so innocent anymore. He looked like a monster. And she knew she did as well, though she could not see her reflection in the mirrors around them. But it was strange, how she knew what they had done, knew she should feel remorse, but it wasn't quite hitting her yet. Like someone realizing they have done something stupid in a drunken haze, but still too consumed by that haze to truly care.

She was reflecting on all of this after she and Alfred had been dragged out of the village by force and taken back to the castle by the horde of vampires that had been present at the ball. Glancing at them, she now saw that they too, were drenched with fresh blood, and now understood what all must have happened in the village. They had been sent down there to retrieve her, but at the sight of all the bloodshed she and Alfred had caused, lost all control of themselves.

As they all congregated into the great hall, she saw that the one leading them was none other than the Graf, who now turned to face them. She and Alfred found themselves roughly flung forward by the other vampires, landing on their knees at his feet. For a moment, she feared for her life, wondering if they were about to be punished or even killed for their actions. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prepared for the worst. But the Graf just bent down, briefly muttering something to them.

"I will get to you two later."

Straightening back up, he walked around the two to address the crowd of older vampires.

"Let me make something perfectly clear to you all, since apparently you did not understand it the last time I said it: When you are here, you bite only who I permit you to bite, and feed when I permit you to feed! Not when I order you to do one simple task—which you completely ignored—all to slaughter the humans which weren't even good enough for you last year! Do you know how long it has taken me to create balance between just my small family and that village? To keep them from constantly trying to kill us, despite knowing what we are? It takes restraint, it takes bargaining, and careful planning. All of that, dashed away in an instant of your pathetic weakness! Do you know what is going to happen to us now? You, who are so spoiled to be under my protection and guidance, haven't any idea, do you? Let me enlighten you, then. We will be hunted. More than ever before. More than you can even imagine. Not by peasants with pitchforks, nor by moronic 'men of science' who think they know how to destroy us because they've read about it once—"

At this, he shot a sharp look towards Alfred. "—no, they will be real vampire hunters. You've probably never met one, have you? They are just as monstrous as we, perhaps even more, for they do not make our deaths quick and painless. I have seen them put my friends under torture for weeks, just because of one careless biting. But after this, after you've killed what, twenty, thirty people in one night alone? Believe me, they will come for us. They will track you down, and make you suffer, and kill you. And even if I wanted to, there is nothing I could do to save your miserable lives."

Sharply turning away from them with disgust, his voice lowered as he added one last afterthought. "I hope you enjoyed tonight's feast. It is the last one any of you ever will have here."

The crowd of undead had a mixture of expressions ranging from fear to rage to despair, but none needed any further words to know it was now time to leave. As they all started streaming out the doors, Sarah stood, unsure if she should follow. If the leader of the vampires intended on giving her and Alfred something worse than a lecture, perhaps it would be best if she ran while she still could. Just as she stepped towards the doors, a smooth voice stopped her.

"I hope you aren't thinking of leaving, Sarah."

Whirling around, she was surprised to see the Graf staring at her with a gaze that was not angry, nor even smug, but almost….sad. His words seemed to be less of a threat and more of a request. Slowly, he stepped forward, glancing between her and Alfred.

"You know I can hardly blame you as I can the others. They are all centuries old, and should know better by now. But you….both of you, were meant to stay here when you turned."

"Both of us?" Alfred finally spoke up, perplexed.

"Ah, yes, I did not plan on having you killed. Not at first, anyway…" the older vampire hissed. He leaned in closer to Alfred, narrowing his eyes in a fixated, cold gaze. "You showed such promise. I saw it, I felt it. What happened to that?"

Alfred just kept his eyes lowered and swallowed nervously. Sarah could tell he was thinking deeply about something, but could not make out what it was. What did all of that mean? When did Alfred ever speak to the Graf?

"If not for you and your professor, none of this would have happened. You both would have safely turned, much fewer or perhaps even no people would have been killed, and you would not have had to start out your new lives with regret. But as it is…well. All I can tell you is that your first kills are the ones you never forget, and never forgive yourself for."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, until Sarah noticed someone else entering the hall. It was Herbert. She had met him once, very briefly, but remembered liking him.

"Ah, there you are," said the father to his son. "I was hoping to get your opinion on what to do with young Alfred. Personally, I'd rather just kill him and call it a day, considering what he did at the ball...but since you were so fond of him, let's make it your decision."

Sarah watched as Alfred seemed to transform back to his old self in an instant, his eyes wide and his body shaking with fear, as it so often did when he was alive. Biting his lip, he looked to Herbert for the first time not with repulsion, but pleading. The blonde vampire merely sighed with disappointment and looked towards Sarah.

"I should be angry with you for stealing my gift…but I suppose you couldn't help it. Even for me, the hunger is hard to control, especially with someone so irresistible…"

The Graf interrupted him impatiently. "Is he of any use to you now, or should I do away with him?"

"Please don't!" Sarah cried out, surprising herself with her words. She barely knew the boy, and in her state, she hardly cared about seeing more death, but she did know he didn't deserve this. Everyone stared at her with mixed expressions, but Herbert was the first to respond.

"Yes, I'd rather you didn't kill him, Father," he agreed, then shot a little smirk towards Alfred. "I still think I can have fun with him."

Rolling his eyes as if inconvenienced by this decision, the Graf pushed Alfred towards Herbert. "Fine then, you can have him. Do whatever you please, just keep him out of my way….For his sake."

A wider grin spread over the blonde man's face, revealing his sharp teeth as he grabbed Alfred like an excited child with a new toy. Alfred instinctively flinched at this, even though he knew that he was no longer at risk of becoming Herbert's meal. But just feeling the grip of the other man's hand on his wrist, he knew that he was still relatively helpless compared to the older vampires. Perhaps strength came with age and experience.

Hesitantly looking to Herbert, Alfred saw that the two Krolocks were looking at each other strangely, as if having a silent conversation before abruptly splitting off in different directions. Herbert pulled Alfred behind him towards one hallway, and the Graf took Sarah in the other. Neither of the two young vampires knew what was about to happen, but any fear they might have felt was greatly overshadowed by an indescribably heavy feeling of shame. The intoxication of their feeding was wearing off, and the guilt was weighing in.