Hatred was our greatest weapon.

Of course, we had our fangs dripping with venom, but the venom had turned dusty and dull after many years of ruling from a throne. Of course we had strength, but that strength had waned after many centuries, even though fresh blood coursed through our bodies. We had our speed, but we were weary of fleeing.

We were the weakest of our coven. Strange, it is, that the strongest should die, be torn from limb to limb, and we, the ones considered the weakest, should live.

Maybe it was their overconfidence that was their downfall. They were sure they could defeat the threat as surely as they could crush a human skull.

But I… I had my doubts. We both did. Yes, we fought, fought to the bitter end, but we had the intelligence to escape. They were doomed, doomed from the moment they stepped, sparkling, into the sunlight to attack.

Of course, we followed them. Blood bubbled in our veins; not our blood, naturally, but the blood of humans who lay, pale and twisted, in the castle behind us. Our blood had been used up long ago, in a spurt of strength that seemed to have spanned for only a second. It cannot help us now.

Nothing can.

They have the speed, the strength, the stinging venom, just like we do. In that, we are equals. We have only one advantage over them, an advantage that they would surely count as a disadvantage.

Hatred.

We despise them, and we have done for many years. We always will.

And that is why they consider us too weak.

They think that we will be blinded by rage. They think that we will charge, the two of us against the entire guard.

We may be angry, but we are not stupid.

Our hatred is our greatest means of attack. We are angry, yes, but we will be cunning. We will not act as they expect.

And that will be their downfall, just as it was ours many centuries ago.

We were arrogant. Arrogance killed many, many gifted vampires. Vampires who could rule, unlike the thieving scum who named themselves the Volturi.

They cannot rule the vampires forever. They are weak, as weak as humans cowering against our might!

For we are mighty. Oh, yes. We can see the cold reality of the world that they cannot, cooped up in their fancy castles. We will not make the mistake of believing they will be easy to defeat.

Of course they won't be. But they will think that we are. After all, there are only two of us. We are old; we have no special gifts.

Or that's what they think.

Every vampire brings something with them from their human life. We brought the same gift; our cunning. It is not a gift, per se, but it is enough. It is enough for revenge.

Revenge is close. I can almost taste it, sweet as blood, on my tongue. It will come; it creeps ever closer, like a vulture circling a corpse, rotting and mangled, the face still twisted with a grimace, or a scream of the horror they beheld in their last seconds of life.

That is what the Volturi shall become. And it shall be our doing.

Were they human, we would drain their bodies of blood, thrive on their life source, enjoy the succulent taste of rich blood, sweetened by revenge. But as it is we will settle for seeing their pale bodies, scattered into pieces and burned, leaving no more than a pile of ashes on this earth.

We will take back our empire. We will rule again. Pitiful humans will not have their eyes clouded, as the Volturi's eyes are; they will see the truth. They will know about us as before. We will keep control, as we did before.

Time will reverse. Our life will be as it was before; the humans who lived there will live as their ancestors did, when we ruled.

We will become strong.

We will get revenge.

But once we do, even the richest blood will not taste as sweet as it did. Nothing can taste sweeter than revenge.