Author's Note: I really, really did not mean to start another fan fiction, considering I've got three that need to be updated ASAP. But, alas, here is a new one. This idea cam from a drabble I wrote on my tumblr a few weeks ago; the prompt was this pairing and the fourth section is the actual drabble (with revisions). This fic is supposed to be much more darker and violent than the other fan fics I've written (hence the rating). For those who have questions about the setting and the time period, please note that the setting is to be during the Victorian Age in England. Regardless of the fact that I'm procrastinating on my other fanfics, here's a new one and I hope you enjoy it! Reviews and critiques are welcome and very much appreciated!

Every person possesses some kind of fear; whether it's the monster under the bed or the crazy politician in power. Fear is what drives life, drives the momentum to live on and to defeat the monster that haunts daily lives. If fear did not exist, there can be no strive to live on; humans would become wasteful beings on this earth, feasting upon this dying and withering land they call earth. Humans live off of fear, and monsters feed off of that fear. Fear, indeed, is a basic need of life.

But, after all, there is a greater fear that lies deeper within our hearts, a fear that all of us choose to ignore. The fear isn't of the beast lurking in the darkest corners, waiting for its next victim. The fear is not the fear that the best will not be defeated. Our deepest and darkest fear is that our fear will turn us into what we fear the most.

The beast that truly exists within our souls.

"Are you sure we're safe here?" the woman asked, leaning forward. The carriage shook as the wheels turned over on the uneven cobblestoned road, and Arthur leaned back, smiling to himself.

"Positive," he answered. "You've got nothing to be afraid of, Mrs. Smith, for I am a vampire slayer. There's no other place in this entire town that's safer than being right by my side." Arthur added, proudly. The woman rolled her eyes.

"It's not like you've actually killed a vampire before, Mister Kirkland. My husband is dead, after all," she said, leaning back. "And how can you be sure if vampires exist? If you can't even protect the governor, why should have I hired you?" Arthur chuckled.

"Because I'm the only vampire hunter in town," he answered, boldly. "Plus, my rates are pretty cheap compared to other hunters I know." Mrs. Smith smiled and turned to look out the window.

"So, what's the plan then? I suppose you've got some suspects in mind?" she asked, fiddling with her fan. Arthur smirked as he pulled out a tiny notebook from his pocket.

"I've looked at all of the records of the people who live here, and the attacks only started a month ago," he explained, flipping through the pages. "I've narrowed it down to three people who possibly could be the vampire, and that's Mister Potter, the baker, Miss Sylvia, the new school teacher and Mister Bonnef—" Mrs. Smith interrupted with a laugh.

"You can't really think the killer is Mister Bonnefoy, Arthur," Mrs. Smith muttered. "He's a rich and honourable man; someone like him would never be something so vile." Arthur looked up from his notebook, giving Mrs. Smith a stern glare.

"You should know by now, Mrs. Smith, that everything and everyone is a suspect until proven innocent. That includes you and Mister Bonnefoy." he said. Mrs. Smith tilted her head in question, smiling at him. Arthur cleared his throat. "Of course, it's very unlikely that you're Mister Smith's killer, ma'am. I've also never met Mister Bonnefoy, so I suppose I'll take your word that he, indeed, is a good man." Suddenly, the carriage came to a jolting stop, making Arthur and Mrs. Smith slip off of their seats.

"What the hell is going on?" she spat, pulling herself back up onto the seat. Arthur opened the door and slid out of the cabin. "What do you think you're doing? That thing could be out there! You don't actually think you can kill it, do you?"

"I'm just going to see if the driver's alright, ma'am." Arthur called back, walking around to the front of the carriage. He slowly crept to the front, finding the driver missing. "Sir," he called out. "Is everything alright, sir?" He then walked to the opposite side of the carriage, the driver being nowhere to be found. "Mrs. Smith, we need to hurry and—"

"ARTHUR!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the forest. Arthur ran back around to find her lying on the ground, the collar of her beautiful lace dress torn, ripped flesh dangling from the exposed bone. Blood pooled around her body, soaking the ground underneath her corpse. Horrified, Arthur froze in his tracks at the sight of her, slowly reaching towards his belt for a weapon. Before he could turn around, someone grabbed his shoulders and sunk their teeth into his neck. Arthur cried out for help as his murderer released him as he fell to the ground beside Mrs. Smith. Whoever had bitten him knelt down beside him and brushed back his hair. He could hear faint humming next to his ear and the smell of sour breath. Arthur's vision was quickly fading away; all he could see was the silhouette of a man hovering over him, smirking. As he felt the warmth escape him and his muscles stiffen, he heard the man muttering softly:

"Sleep; go to sleep, my pet."

I used to be a good boy. I used to love school; I loved reading all of the books about the world's history, the old fairytales from olden days. I loved playing with my friends after school; we used to run around in the fields until the sunset and had to go home for supper time.

Out of everything I loved, most of all I loved my Maman. She was surely a sweet and caring woman; she took care of me whenever I was ill or cut myself when I tripped over my own feet. My Maman worked at a bakery in the centre of the town, where she would bake the best pastries and sweets for everyone in the city, saving the best goodies for me at the end of the day. She could knit the warmest blankets and scarves as well and sell them for extra money so we could keep our small home by the end of the year. She was protective over me too; she never let me out of her sight or let anyone dare lay a hand on me.

My father was never present in my childhood. I always asked my Maman about my father, but her reply was always: 'Your Maman loves you very much, Francis.' Sooner or later, I gave up on finding out who my father really was and focused more on my school work and friends. We were poor, but it never truly mattered. My Maman and I had each other, that was what mattered the most in our lives. My life had been peaceful for the entirety of my childhood and like every other good boy, I hoped it would continue.

But everything turned for the worst on my thirteenth birthday.

Everything hurt; from the tip-top of his head to the end of his toes, everything throbbed. The pain only grew worse as his eyes fluttered open. Arthur groaned, rubbing his head as his eyes focused, seeing a man silently admiring him as he leaned over the couch, his hair falling over his shoulders ever so slightly. "Has anyone ever told you that you're absolutely adorablewhen you're asleep?" he mused.

"Has anyone ever told you that it's rude and creepy that you watch people in their sleep?" Arthur snapped. The man chuckled, standing up straight and walked around the couch.

"You're my pet, so why wouldn't I watch you sleep?" He paused, smiling to himself.

"I am no one's pet!" Arthur shouted. He flinched at his own voice, his head throbbing even more. "I'm a bloody human being, not some freakish animal!" The mysterious man raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure about that, Arthur?" he replied, sitting down beside him. He then frowned. "The pain should go away in a few more hours. I'm sorry, I didn't want this to be painful for you. Turning is never easy." Arthur scowled.

"What the hell did you do to me? And how do you know my name?!" he hissed, clenching his fists. The Frenchman leaned back, letting his arms rest on the back of the couch, pulling out a small wallet, waving it in Arthur's face.

"I was hungry," he answered, glancing away. He tossed the wallet towards the other. "And you happened to be the closest prey near me."

"You were hungry. Because that's a legitimate excuse."

"It's funny, I usually don't like to prey on people like you, but I couldn't resist this time around," he continued. "And usually I don't let them live, because I know the turn is so painful…"

"Don't ignore me!" Arthur yelled. "Tell me what you did to me! Or there'll be consequences to pay!" The other laughed, shaking his head.

"Pardon me, I'm a terrible host," he replied. "Could I get you something to drink?" Arthur glared at him as he stood up and escorted himself out of the room. In a few minutes, he returned with two wine glasses filled to the brim with a velvety red liquid, gently placing them on the table by the couch. "You must be thirsty; please, feast."

"Look, I don't know who you think you are but—" Arthur began.

"Francis; my name's Francis. In case you wanted to know." He gestured to the two glasses. "Please, you're going to starve yourself if you don't drink." Arthur sighed and relented, snatching a glass off of the table. He took a small sip, grimacing as he swallowed.

"I'm sorry to say this, but, I think your wine has turned to vinegar." he mumbled. Francis chuckled.

"It's not wine, my dear Arthur." Francis answered.

"You're pulling my leg. If it's not wine, then what—"

"It's the rest of what I could salvage from last week's prey," Francis continued. Arthur gave him a terrified look. "The woman who was with you that night," He then froze, the glass slipping out of his fingers. The red liquid splattered all over the rug as Arthur stumbled over himself as he tried to get away. "I know it's a disappointment right now, but rest assured, blood tastes much better when it's fresh."

"You'rethe vampire!" Arthur shouted. "You're the vampire the town's been hunting all these months! You vile person! Y-you're going to pay for all the lives you've taken for your own pleasures!"

"Including yours?" Francis asked, standing up. Arthur glared at him, backing away. He bumped into the wall behind him, feeling trapped. Francis took the other glass that was resting on the table and handed it to the other, smiling. "You know, the reason why I didn't just kill you was because I couldn't let your pretty little face go to waste. I had to keep it, just for me." He leaned closer, pulling down Arthur's shirt collar and exposing his wound. Pulling him closer, Francis hid his face in Arthur's neck, chuckling. "Your human scent still lingers; it drives me crazy, do you know that?" He kissed him, nibbling on his lip a bit. Arthur pushed him away. "I lose control…"

"I demand that you let me leave at once!" he hissed. Francis sighed.

"Now, now, I cannot allow that," he muttered. "You're going to get yourself killed if you run away from your new master." Arthur gulped; did he use some kind of enchantment when he kissed him? It was unfair for a vampire to be this attractive; they're supposed to be ugly, right? Feared monsters with translucent skin, bald heads and pointy teeth? "Ah, you are confused, no?" Francis kissed him again, letting his arm snake around Arthur, pulling him closer. "Your lips taste so sweet, like a virgin's blood." he murmured, smirking.

"I hate you," Arthur said. Francis shook his head. "I am nothing like you."

"No, you're just hungry," he answered, lifting the glass to Arthur's lips. "We'll hunt later, but for now, drink as much as you can," Francis mused, letting his free hand caress Arthur's cheek. "My pet."