I wanted to try something a little different this time, so I wrote my first Vampire Princess Miyu piece; please let me know what you think. It was hard, writing in the P.O.V of a vampire, because it is so different from my usual characters I write on, so I'm really not sure quite how it did turn out...

There comes a time when people can no longer face the reality that they are forced to live with. I know this, because I watch people.

They go about their daily lives, just taking it and taking it until one day they can take no more. And when that moment happens, they deal with it in different ways.

Some simply break down and cry, until either someone comes to stop them and somehow distract them from their misery, or until their misery simply runs out until they have no more feelings – or energy – to give. Others bury themselves in their work, in an attempt to forget. Some even drink away their troubles, by forcing themselves to grow so drunk that they are no longer able to think about anything, least of all their problems in life.

And some, the occasional few, take the darker means of escape.

It fascinates me, this cycle of pain and usually eventual death that these humans create for themselves.

I have witnessed much in my years of life – if you would call it life. I am, after all, not really truly alive. But then again, neither am I dead, so I suppose life is what I must call it. But as I say, I have seen much. People jump off buildings, cut off their supply of oxygen, take pills – all to put an end to their life, that their problems will no longer plague them.

And I, with my fascination of blood and death, am a silent observer. I do not try to stop them; it is their choice, so who am I to try to put a stop to yet another death in the world?

But I often catch myself thinking; what is it like?

I am not alive, but I am not dead, so I can experience neither. I know, an have long accepted that I will never experience life again. But I could experience death...

Larva has told me that once I grow tired of this cycle, he himself will put an end to it with his own hands, and I trust him to do so.

I do not grow weary of it; not yet.

However, I do want to experience what this is, this thing called Death. Some people seem to look forward to it so much that they would bring it to themselves instead of waiting for it to come to them.

The most intriguing thing I ever saw was someone bringing death upon themselves by blade. There was so much blood, all sliding down their arms like silk, and I could not take my eyes away. I was not hungry, but I could not take my eyes away.

So.

A knife, then.

Breaking my mind away from my train of thought, I cast around for a weapon.

I obtain one easily enough, and hold the blade above my wrist as I have seen done, that one time.

And just like that, it slices through pale bare skin. When I pull it away, the knife gleams red and silver, and I watch with interest as crimson leaks out and drips with not a sound onto my perch on the roof.

Hm. Is there supposed to be something? Anything, that will happen, to make me feel an different than my current state?

When nothing appears to be forthcoming, I try again.

And again.

I am beginning to get very frustrated. Nothing is happening; why? I know, of course, that this will not kill me. How can I die like this; through any human means such as an ordinary knife such as this, death is impossible. But I should be able to feel something...

Nothing.

I nearly throw the knife down in frustration, but my arm stays still... I'm dizzy.

It is from the loss of blood, I expect – I do need blood to survive...

... There is till nothing; nothing but this irritating dizziness. How foolish; why would a human end their life this way if it does not change anything but their existence? One would expect something to happen before they die other than a little dizziness...

Oh. Well, my eyesight is also getting hazy, but this is not so unexpected either...

Through the fog that seems to surround me there is a black shape that has appeared beside me, and who knocks the knife from my hand...

Larva.

And he has knocked the knife from my hand...

Why?

I want to ask, but my mouth does not seem to be functioning properly at this moment either.

His mask is off, too.

"Miyu. Why?"

Two simple words, but that is what I wanted to ask him. And besides, I cannot yet answer. I settle for shaking my head.

He grips my shoulders, and the folds of his dark cloak flow over me.

"Why?" he asks again, this time with more force.

I find my voice at last; when it comes from my mouth it seems softer, more husky than usual; or perhaps it is just me.

"I wanted... to know."

Yes, it is true. I did want to know. But despite this... despite everything... I still do not.

"Know?"

"Yes. I wanted to know what it felt like. To go to Death, instead of waiting... I know I cannot die like this... but I thought... I thought something..."

The whole idea seems slightly foolish now, even though it was so clear to me but a few moments ago.

Larva does not have anything to say to this for some time. He appears to be thinking hard; about what I cannot guess.

"Don't", he says. "Just don't. In the end... it means nothing. Absolutely nothing. This time, Miyu, the end does not justify the means. It is different for humans. But for you... for us... it is not the same. And it will never be the same."

I only stare at him. I must look odd, with my pale face and wide golden eyes, and blood running in small rivers down my arms.

But he gives no sign of it, and just stays beside me as we watch the sun go down, and warps me in his cloak a little more. I cannot feel much right now, but the warmth of this gesture I do feel.

And it is good.