Author's Note – After reading several stories using the concept of a vampire Raven, I thought I'd try my hand at it. This is the prologue, if it receives a positive enough response I'll continue.
Disclaimer – I have never and will never own Teen Titans
Prologue: The Path of Virtue
The sharp ringing of my alarm clock sounded off into the night. I sprang up in bed to silence it to keep from waking the others. In truth I didn't even need the alarm any more, I only set it as a formality. As hard as I tried, I simply couldn't sleep anymore. After noting the time was around two in the morning, I quietly set down the clock and took the time to listen for any sound in the tower that would point to anyone being awake at this hour. I trained my ears to pick up anything that could be heard beyond the darkened walls of my room.
I had grown accustomed to the sounds my teammates produced as they sleep. The sound of soft whimpering, snoring, relaxed breathing and the telltale hum of Cyborg's charging equipment all told me the same thing, I was the only one awake at this hour. It was for the best anyway. I needed absolute privacy for what I was about to do. I knew for a fact no one would dare enter my room without permission. However, It was too great a risk to be caught. They could never know what had happened to me, no one could.
Restraining my excitement and anticipation I slowly stood atop my mattress, standing within the confines of the large ornate canopy that rose over my bed. The domed curvature of the canopy's interior was covered in black fabric to cover up the bare woodwork within. Running my hands over the dark material I eventually found a small, barely noticeable cut I had made in the cloth months ago. It proved to be the perfect hiding place, much better than simply hiding everything in a drawer or in my closet.
Reaching a hand into the thin opening, I first retrieved a small glass followed by an old, barely full Coke bottle. My mouth watered at the sight of the liquid, however little of it was left at this point. I ducked out from under the canopy and slowly made my way over to my desk. If I had a lesser will I would probably have run as fast as my legs would carry me. Still, I managed to control myself, moving at a leisurely pace as I placed to bottle and glass upon the desk before taking a seat in front of the arrangement.
With my hands trembling I took the bottle in hand and attempted to remove the cap. Some of the sticky fluid had dried around the cap, making it difficult to open. After applying a great deal of force, with a slight amount of desperation seeping into my actions, the cap finally came loose and turned. Holding the slightly crumpled plastic bottle in my left hand I then took the glass in my right and quickly poured the contents out. Now my whole body was trembling with anticipation as I took the filled glass in hand. No matter how badly I was shaking, I still managed to bring the glass along with its contents to my lips and began to drink.
I don't think I ever will be able to describe how blood tastes to me. Before it had a very tangible salty taste to it on the rare occasion that I'd been beaten badly enough in a fight. But now the flavor had changed drastically. It tasted like the most wonderfully delicious food that had ever passed my lips in my entire life. As the thick liquid rushed past my teeth and coated my tongue on it's way down my throat I was in paradise. I couldn't help but moan pleasantly as I swallowed.
This was ambrosia, the food of the gods that conferred immortality upon those who ingested it. However I know that's not true, I'm not arrogant. This was the food of the devil that sustained my newfound immortality by destroying the lives of innocent people. That's how I felt back then, at least. After finishing it took an extra amount of willpower to keep from licking at the blood that had congealed to the bottom of the glass. My hunger, although slightly satisfied, was still there and would only get worse as time went on.
In the months after my change, I'd sustained myself by siphoning blood from the emergency supply in the infirmary at Titans Tower. I could only take so much, though, so as not to raise suspicion. It was for this reason that I found myself slowly starving to death, if death ever came for someone like me.
After placing the now empty bottle and glass back in their hiding place I collapsed into my bed, not caring to draw the sheets over my form. I constantly felt exhausted in addition to the feeling of starvation like a great vice being tightened around my stomach. Thankfully my powers weren't dependent on my physical strength, which still meant I was of use to the team. But still, I wondered how long it would take for them to notice what had happened to me. I reasoned that they would have to some day. And so, unable to sleep, unable to eat, I lay on my back staring up into the darkness, waiting for a morning that would never come.