Don't you know I'm a villain?

Solitary was a given for the mere, supernatural being I was destined to be. When they sensed my presence, a sudden spark of alarm and panic glint in their eyes, proof that Conscience had told them what needed to be said in order to protect themselves clear of the Vampire King. The title itself—although a bit exaggerate, I must say—was simply just that: a title. Not that I was completely innocent to the point where I had not earned the rank, but my soul was truly not a dark one. Though, if I were to go about my way to explain this, no one would believe me. No one believes the bad guys.

Every night, I'm out killin', sending everyone running like children.

It's true that at a time, the spill of human blood put me in a frenzy. The feeling alone was able drive one into a self-imposed coma. Uncontrollably, incoherently. My mind blocked out every other thought when I saw it. The color was all that mattered. As long as something was red, that's all my body required for satisfaction, but just the sight of that dark red liquid sent shivers down my spine. Yearning, my tongue whipped around these impure lips of mine, lips that could only hide under a strong, innermost desire to plunge forth and plant them on the necks of my ignorant victims.

I was a young vampire in the period I used to hurt others intentionally. Although my memory wasn't the greatest, fragments would appear in my mind whenever I was asleep. Pitch black, dreamless visions were my favorites. At least then, I didn't wake up by the nightmares of my past, my voice only able to describe the agony by the same blood-curdling scream that escaped between uneven sobs.

The days my mind recalled horrible memories were the only days I'd see Fionna. She was the light you saw at the end of a long, frightening tunnel; my lost hope, the luminous innocence I longed for myself. She was my energy, the reason I ever got out of the house to leave behind the insecurities holding me down from the world and beyond. Her very spirit reminded me consistently of the sincerity of life and everything it had to offer. Because of her, I was able to surpass my urge to kill myself, or at least attempt to do so.

I know why you're mad at me. I've got demon eyes, and they're looking right through your anatomy, into your deepest fears.

Naive. That's the way she should've stayed, but even the Vampire King doesn't have the will to hold a front.

Whenever Fionna asked, I'd deny it. "It's nothing," I'd lie through my teeth every time I met up with her after being asked about suspicious black bags under bloodshot eyes. "Just didn't get enough sleep."

But she was smarter than that, quicker, not that it was something that could easily be hidden. I sensed it, too, that the blond heroine was slowly recognizing a pattern in my unusual behavior. After about a month, the questions I had stealthily avoided all my life had been stacked numerously by her eagerly troubled voice. Repudiation didn't get her off my back, and finally, the secrets that had been kept in these past few hundred years deluged in a matter of seconds.

After telling her my background, I expected her to run or at least show me that fearful, disgusted expression the other humans used to show me before they went into an unavailing sprint, but all she did was cry at my suspense and thrust four words into my brain.

"You were so lonely."

Since then, Fionna never left my side. She was always there, reassuring me that I wasn't alone anymore and that there would always be someone whose presence would be enough to ease my pain.

Every time she looked into my eyes for more than four seconds, it reminded her of the people I killed, the blood I shed, and the writhing bodies my young self had not thought carefully enough to leave be. Just as she stared into mine, her sapphire gleaming irises showed me the anxiety from within.

Was she hanging out with me because she wanted to, or because she felt sorry for me? She feared that if she left me alone, I'd go along with my attempts of suicide. Often, I'd ask myself this question and doubted my relationship with her.

Baby, I'm not from here. I'm from the Nightosphere.

Chaos is all I've ever known. Unlike the heroine of Aaa who grew up learning responsibility and care for others, the daily routine my life fell under was compressed with the pressures of being Mommy's perfect little monster. Killing people, taking souls, devouring the last bits of their faith until they begged for mercy; this was what I assumed was my morale. For years, my eyes had not seen sun. Fire was the soul source of light. I'd been the witness to too many tragedies in this pit to say I was pure. I grew up thinking I had to be vicious and evil to meet others' expectations.

At a point in time, a woman saved me when I mysteriously wandered out of the Nightosphere. This woman, now controlled by ice-consuming power in the Land of Aaa, guided me, and many years after, gave me the chance to explore the real world on my own.

That's when I met her. The human. And the moment I met this particular human, epiphany shot me in the face: I wasn't just this bad little boy.

To me, you're clear; transparent.

Day after day, we got closer. Or maybe that was an understatement in comparison to what she really meant to me, because Fionna was always more than just a friend. Such a simpleton, that girl, always so easy to read. I didn't care so much about reading books, but if she were one, the beginning to the end of each chapter would hold frivolous, carefree imagination, unaware of the volatile creature hovering overhead that secretly cherished her with everything he had.

When I joked around with Fionna, I felt alive, ironically speaking. No matter how many times she'd show me, I never got tired of her laugh, the way she blushed when a tease slipped through my lips, or the way she'd make that cute, angry face of hers when I was able to playfully guess the next thing she'd say.

Though at times, I felt inferior to her. She saved random strangers practically everyday in the Land of Aaa. She'd notice this shakable confidence of mine when we hung out and would slap some sense into me. "You're so much more than what you think you are, Marshall," she'd say again and again until I got sick of hearing it. I loved how, even in the darkest hours, I was safe to depend on her to save me, because that's what Fionna did; she saved those that couldn't save themselves.

You got a thing for me, girl; it's apparent.

Once my heart felt secure about our relationship, certainty filled the void. Of course, she'd never admit it, but there's was just something in the pit of my stomach that told me.

Fionna liked me.

Or, to my understanding, there was this incomprehensible vibe between us.

I didn't know how, and I had no idea when it may have started, but I was sure. After all, how could I not notice when I was always looking at her? Realizing this, another emotion surfaced with haste. Sheer bliss? No. Gratitude to the mythical place above? Not quite. Words weren't able to clarify what exactly I had felt but that positivity I had was more than enough to suffice.

After unfathomable thinking, I began to doubt myself again. The very existence that shines my way in complete abyss; did I really have the right to be conceited? Set my beliefs on the highest of expectations that, on the assumption, Fionna was actually able to reciprocate my feelings for her?

I couldn't allow myself to be half-assed about my feelings, no matter how many times I tried pushing them away. I loved Fionna. I adored her. I wanted everything in her life to be what she ever wanted. I wanted to be the first person she came to when she was sad about something. I wanted to be the first person she came to when she had good news. My head went crazy picturing her being her undeniably irresistible self with other people other than with me, even if it was someone as close to her as Cake. I was too selfish, because, like a valuable possession you could not part with, I wished for Fionna to never leave me.

Convincing myself was my only gateway to sanity. If I could convince myself of this much, my days as a lifeless vampire didn't matter. Just as long as my blond, delicate human still lived, breathed.

AN: I automatically started typing this after seeing the sneak peak for the next genderbend episode Bad Little Boy. I cannot tell you how excited I am for this episode. I hope you enjoyed, and please, reviews are very helpful!