Chapter One: Once I had the rarest rose…

A/N: Hello lovely readers! I wanted to let you know that this is my first Vampire High FF…so please be kind :) I have not seen the end of the TV show based on the simple fact that YouTube only has until ep. 15. If any of you know where I can finish watching the season PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! Also, feel free to correct my on anything. I will take your words into account while I am writing. Much love! I hope you like my story. (I also, don't own any of Vampire High. This is just my view of the continuation of the show.)

The maddening pulse of the pain and fever slowed. -Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thump. Thump…thump…-There was nothing the Doctor or Murdock could do. Sherry was gone.

"Drew…what have you done…"


Drew fled into the night; his grief over coming him. He did not quite know where he ran, all he knew was that it had to be as far as he could before his tears could dry. He remembered her sweet face, shining in what little light the night offered. The way her lips felt was they stood in the library and kissed. And finally, the way she had lain in her bed not an hour ago, burning with pain and fever, barely calling his name with what strength she had left. He let himself stray in that moment, thinking about what a world of night or day would be like without such a rose to watch bloom. The red tears ran quicker down his face as he remembered. He could still hear her weak voice, knowing deep down that he was right by her side, and would never leave. But how could he turn such a flower? Would she not become just like him? A beast who for yearned dark things, and lived by its cravings. Could he really condemn her to a life in the shadows? Never to see the sun or family she would leave behind for centuries of battling the creature within. He had tasted her. How could he resist such a fine wine? She was intoxicating. So much more than he had imagined in those lonely days he spent dreaming away in his closed world. His history was to be repeated again tonight. First was his weakness of tasting his friend and being too weak to turn him—and now Sherry, his greatest love, dead because of his weakness to follow through once again. How could he live with himself?

The sky in the east was beginning to lighten. He slowed his pounding feet; but his heart, for the first time in decades, ached with a pain greater than the want, or need, to be alive. He looked up towards the sky and saw the feint hews of morning. It was going to be a clear day—the very opposite of his thoughts or heart. The pain within him spoke of no greater want than to join his love in death. So he sat himself down against a tree and closed his eyes, picturing every curve, every line, and every sparkle of his Sherry as he let his caring slip away and emptiness over take him.


"Drew … Drew…"

There came a distant voice sounding in the gloom of Drew's self. His eyes were shut tight as he willed the calling of his name to cease. His thoughts had fled, but the anguish and pain remained in his heart that he thought long dead.


His shoulder was being shaken forcibly.

"Drew, please wake up."

It was Merrill's voice. Her sweet and gentle voice was calling him back to where he so desperately willed himself away from. His soul was weeping as he slowly open his eyes to behold Merrill's anxious stare.

"Drew, there isn't much time. The sun is almost over the horizon. Please get up."

He looked at her. There was no emotion in his eyes. No hunger, no thirst, no hate, and no joy. Just two eyes, lifeless and dead holding her gaze.

"I will stay here until my end will be the same fate as hers." And he turned his head away from her.

The sharp –CRACK- Drew then felt on his cheek brought him back to her gaze again. She had slapped him across the face, leaving it stinging in her wake.

"Are you so selfish that you can see nothing?!" her eyes had turned dark as she spat out the words. "You care nothing for others. And the one selfless thing that you do, you run away from as if some crazed dog! Now get up and come with me. I will not see you turn into ash because of your rash choices."

If anything, he was surprised to see Merrill acting in such a way as she wrenched him into a standing position and slung his left arm over her shoulder. He remembered all those times that she had tried to let him see, make him understand how much she really did love him, and it had fallen upon deaf ears. But she would be heard here and now, even as the sun was creeping higher in the east. She would get him back to the mansion whether he wanted it or not. He regretted now that he had hurt her so terribly. How he had no respect for her soul's feelings, and had only thought of his desire for Sherry. What persisted her to save him from becoming ashes was completely incalculable in his brain at that moment.

Just as they were arriving at the manor, the sun seared across the sky and night had become day. When they came through the doors, Merrill hurried a weak Drew through the wall and down the stairs before collapsing on the stone floor. A slight steam was rising from them, as they had almost not made it inside in time.

"Merrill!" Marty called as he rushed to her side and put an arm out to grip hers. She took a hold of him and got to her feet to next help Drew up.

"Quickly, we don't have much time Murdock says. C'mon Drew," Marty pulled him along back towards the study. "There's still time to save Sherry."

"What?" breathed Drew.