Author's Note: This is a ficlet I'd written a while ago, and even forgot about. Heh. But I was looking through my ficlets, found it, and now I'm posting it here. Hope ya'll enjoy, and please review. It's very easy, and it's a wonderful treat for an author, and constructive criticism, while sometimes not what we authors want, is certainly a helpful thing. Don't flame though, okay? Flaming is stupid.

Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue.


Jared Nomak stared out at the city from his perch on top of the blood bank. His mouth would be dripping with blood still only he had licked it all up hungrily, even taking a glove off to wipe it from his jaw and clean off his fingers, desperate for blood.

What was he now? What should he call himself? Should he even call himself anything? How should he handle this, he could he handle this?

Everything burned and ached. His stomach clenched despite his having gorged himself on the vampires inside the blood bank. His eyes were sensitive right now, his skin felt hot and thin, his veins were nearly melted at the boiling blood that should still be cold.

How was he to handle the heat, the unending agony? He hadn't had to deal with this before. He was a pure born vampire. He was born cold, with an exceptionally high pain tolerance. Yet something told him he had even higher pain threshold now. That if it was as low as it had been a few days ago, he would die, his body unable to handle the unyielding pain.

What have you done to me, Father? What have you made me?

Nomak kept questioning his only family, the only family he knew at least. He kept hearing his father's orders to terminate him, to "terminate the project." His father had told them to kill Nomak as if he was just an experiment, to just turn off the power and destroy the results. He was nothing but a project to his father, a failed project.

He was a failure, a mutation, a monster, a project. He was nothing but a project to his father. Had he not run, he would be dead now. Terminated. That's what his father's answer was. Termination. Just, get rid of him and hide the evidence he had ever existed. Not that it would be difficult, his father had worked so hard to keep Nomak a secret.

Jared didn't even have his father's last name He had Nomak. Perhaps it was his mother's name. Perhaps a name his father had taken from an old acquaintance or something. Perhaps it meant something Jared didn't know. Perhaps it was just randomly picked without any care or interest at all.

After all, Jared Nomak wasn't a prince, an heir, a son. He was a project to be terminated after going wrong.

The anger made the pain go away. The hatred and contempt from earlier, when he had played the vampires right into his own trap that they had thought their own, it returned and made the ache lessen, took his mind off the agony and the hunger. It didn't hurt as much when he hated.

He wasn't a project. He wasn't going to be terminated. Not that he wouldn't die, he didn't want to live. He would survive though, survive long enough to "terminate" his father. His beloved father. The precious vampire overlord, and he wouldn't die at the hands of his own "project." He would die at the hands of his own son.