AN: WOOHOO for the plot bunny that wouldn't die. So i'm writing 3 fics at once, i do have a life...really. anyway, for anyone who really loves the angst of Sam, have fun kiddies! Reviews are like candy! Thanks to my Twisted Sisters (Glitz and Squee- excellent authors, check 'em out) for the betaing and mad crazy brainstorming. The Judges, however, will get smacked.

The mansion echoed with the screams of dying vampires. As knives descended upon undead necks, the dusty, empty estate stood witness to slaughter and to degradation. But unbeknownst to the house, it would also be witnessing the convergence of two disconsolate souls in a violent and tragic event.

Joining with Bobby, the Winchesters sought out and destroyed the nest of a particularly sadistic horde of vampires. Centered in Annapolis, Maryland, the stately house laid dormant after its occupants had been brutally murdered. As Sam had skimmed the newspaper articles, he couldn't help but laugh with derision as the cops called it a serial killer with a barbecue fork. Lately, his patience with the rest of humanity was short lived. They were so stupid as to what went on around them, why couldn't they possibly let the thought of vampires enter their mind? It also lent itself, no doubt, to the numerous duplicities he had witnessed and been privy to before his short-lived death. Sam had thought he had an unshakable faith in his race, mankind. Now, he just wished they would go away.

Now, as Dean, Bobby, and Sam all stalked and killed their prey, he felt nothing but the excitement of the hunt, the adrenaline, as it coursed through his body. Keeping a machete between his hands and an eye darting around the dark corners, Sam entered a high ceilinged, dust covered room. Judging by the endless sheet-strewn shelves, it was the library of the house. But books didn't interest Sam at this point. Any other day, any other time, he might have pursued the titles. But with his current state, and the figure in front of him, Sam didn't care if they held the answers to his dismal life. His attention was transfixed on the sight in the center of the drafty room. A woman, a vampire, lounged in a wing-backed chair, one knee draped over the plush arm, foot jiggling in an endless beat. Unusual to vampires, the nervous gesture piqued Sam's interest as the other foot stayed planted firmly on the ground, much more to the quiet stillness of the undead. Her face cast in the shadow of the wings of her seat, her lithe body slouching into the furniture's depths. She chewed absently at a fingernail and watched Sam as he edged forward. The noises of her dying kin became background noise as the two faced off.

Sam's confusion further escalated as she made no attempt to rise from her elegant chair. He stood five feet from his opposition, machete raised, muscles bunching under the anticipation of the kill. She laughed, eyes glinting in the twilight of the room, dark hair swishing along her narrow shoulders.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A tourist perhaps? Come to find some thrills?" Her alto voice laced with lazy amusement as she took in Sam and his stance. "But maybe not. Nice Knife, Kiddo." She paused, listening to the far off commotion, realization drawing her lips into sneering pout. "Ahh, I see. You've come to kill me. Well, get it over with. Kill me good, hunter-boy."

Sam lowered the knife, uncertainty edging away his determination. "You aren't going to fight me?" Anger, so quick to boil lately, chased away any trepidation Sam had. "Fight me!"

Something close to hunger flickered in her eyes as she straightened in the chair. "Oh, I will. I'm just waiting for you to catch up to me. Make the experience a bit more tasty." She continued to watch Sam as the energy built up through his spine, begging for release. Her eyes flashed, "Come and get me tiger."

With a savage growl, Sam slashed at her, putting his weight behind the blow. All his training flew out the library's moonlit window as he brought the blade down on her slender neck. He didn't care anymore about the training, the skill set. He just wanted the bloodlust to be sated until he trembled with exhaustion. It overtook him so easily nowadays. Nothing else gave him the thrill, the fear, and the savage joy that the hunt did. He felt alive under its touch. As it pounded through his head, blood rushing through his body, only then could Sam hear his heart beat. Only when he was covered in blood and sweat did he know that he was still among the living. As his chest heaved, he knew he still breathed.

But at the same time, Sam wanted to escape it. Because as blood flowed and air circulated, it was a stabbing reminder of what his brother had done. That in one year, Dean would be dead. The guilt and the sorrow that made Sam's stomach clench was always akin to that angry bloodlust. Sam knew it was his fault. If he had killed Jake in the first place, Dean would be okay. The first time the terrible rage filled Sam was when he shot Jake. The damage done, Sam thought that his own murderer's death would quell the black fog around his heart. It did nothing.

Instead Sam's dark thoughts only titillated to breaking point, seeking more enemies, more blood as he drove the knife towards the vampire's neck, Sam's powerfully built frame chased with hate, guilt, and fury. However, the blade never met its mark, slicing through the upholstery. Sam stumbled into the high-backed chair as the woman slid down and out at an inhuman pace. Sam's adrenaline rose as he spun, sprawled across his landing point. He panted and instinctively brought the blade up expecting a fight to the death.

Instead, the vampire stood hands behind her back and feet together, inspecting him. In the faint moonlight from outside, her eyes sparkled with mirth; Sam could now see they were ocean blue. But the rest of her betrayed no such joy at the hunter's folly. Small yet luscious lips twisted in disdain as her body language spoke plainly of a tired tenseness.

"Now, you are too easy. God, not even a challenge." The scorn was evident in her voice as she looked Sam up and down. When she spoke next, it was almost to herself and carried and edge of bitterness. "Why do they try? Why are silly humans so fragile?"

"What?" Sam was still breathing hard and heart beating a violent cadence against his chest. Fear, a now foreign emotion, struck at him mercilessly.

"Boredom, little hunter." Her eyes met his, trapping him in her melancholy gaze. "My life- my death- is filled with nothing. Meaningless ice-chips that do nothing to awaken my passions. What is a vampire if she cannot have passion? I am so powerful that even the toughest kills are a light slap. In life I had vibrancy, did great feats that got my blood rushing in my ears. Now, not even my victims' blood rushes. It flows sluggishly like butter in a churn. No heat, no life. Just death. Now, little hunter, what do I do with that? Kill you quickly, another meaningless, joyless snack? Tell me how to awaken my passion, I can smell yours like rain on an overcast day."

Something broke inside of Sam as he listened to her jaded and frustrated admission. He simply stared, piecing together their tangled worlds. Was that not how he too felt? Life after death held nothing if stuck on this earth? He felt the anger leak away, filing on desolation instead.

"Well, are you going to answer? Or shall I rip your throat out and continue on my morbid path?"

"Don't-" Sam was at a loss for words. So used to being alone in his stagnation, he didn't know what to say to someone who felt exactly that way.

"Don't what? Not kill you? Oh honey, that's a guarantee!" She took two slow steps towards Sam in the chair.

"No, wait." He began haltingly, unsure what response he would get. After all, it could mean his life on the line or could be whether he died slowly or quickly. "Look. Believe me or not, I feel the same." He gave a hallow laugh at her incredulous expression. "Yeah, that's what I expected from everyone. I feel nothing, nothing except a wild anger and a crippling guilt. They are the cause and the effect, and only when I hunt, do I feel anything else."

She cocked her head to the side, considering him. "And what do you feel then?" In front of him now, she looked down while Sam craned his neck, unwilling to break eye contact.

"Blood. My heart. Air. My lungs filing and emptying." Confusion and a wretched pain filled his expressive hazel eyes. "I know that I'm still alive. Alive because my brother chose my life above his. I died. And he is going to hell because I am alive."

Her hand reached out and ghosted underneath his chin, holding him as Sam tried to hide his agony. The touch was firm, yet delicate, no violence suggested.

"Blood?" She asked softly, "You feel only blood as rage, passion, lust runs through your veins?" Her agony matched his.

Barely audible, Sam whispered, "Yes."

Her fingers trailed along his jaw-line to find his ear, slowly trickling down to his neck. Their eyes still locked on each other, hunger blazed as a silent plea passed between them. Sam let his head drop to the side as her fingers gently pushed. In one swift motion, the vampire was on his lap. Sam watched with disconnected interest as her fangs slowly descended and her sapphire eyes shimmered in the near dark. A dull thunk echoed through the room as the knife slid from his grasp and he moved to clutch at his poison. Hissing, the vampire slapped his hands down, determined to keep him prey and herself predator. Sam stilled, surrendering to what he believed was his end with the dark struggle. As her feral and beautiful mouth sank into his flesh, Sam only gasped and wondered vaguely if Dean would kill her for killing him.

She sucked at Sam greedily, understanding of the hunt and his world beginning to dawn. Sweet spicy liquid passed through her as she felt the hunter's life in her grasp. He let out an involuntary moan as his blood filled her and satisfied her. But even as Sam began to float from light-headedness, the sensation stopped and she broke off, arching her back.

"Oh, sweet glorious night! Such power!" She shivered as Sam struggled to rise, indignation and vexation bubbling inside. Sam or the woman?

"Why...didn't you...finish?" He asked, worn from blood loss, but alive with dissatisfaction.

"Oh, you are too delightful for one big meal. No, I shall revel in Whose resentment our resentment, your power, your succulent rage every night."

Letting loose a cry of frustration, Sam attempted to push her off and to attack the demon on top of him. Alas, in his weakened state, she only hugged her knees tighter again to close in on him. The vampire's lips bruised his with a kiss filled with his blood. She pressed Sam into the chair, making escape impossible. He could only respond to the harsh treatment.

She lept off Sam and the chair, muscles quivering and eyes ablaze with his life. She licked her lips, "You will come to me Sam. Every night you shall give your blood to me because we are the same and thirst for the same. Goodnight, my sweet delicious meat."

Sam sat dumbstruck as she walked to a side door and disappeared.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice filtered from the haze.

"Shit." Sam hurriedly stood up and adjusted his shirt to hide the wound. A wave of dizziness assailed him, causing Sam to clutch the back of the chair as he rode it out. Once it passed, he bent to retrieve his machete and with one last look at the door, Sam left to find his brother.

there may be some time between chapters. sorry, i'm working 40plus hours and writing all this...