The cruel narcissist in me wanted to laugh at her for having no hair, no makeup, no jewelry, nothing but unflatteringly short hair: hacked for a noblewoman's wig, insomnia-bruised eyes, and a dirty white strait jacket. The moment my teeth sank into her neck, my body trembling from the sound of her pathetic, troubled whimpers.

"Shh," I paused to say, "don't worry, pretty girl. I'm saving you."

Too terrified to reply, she just continued to tremble and squeal. One more bite and a downpour of venom into her bloodstream ended my work. She was squealing on the ground, crying out in unbelievable pain. I couldn't help but snicker, partially from the blood-high, and partially from the realization that she'd always be my mess. Her hair would never grow back; she'd never remember anything before she met me, and she'd never know there was a world outside of pleasing me.

For dramatic effect, I placed a firm hand over her mouth and planted a kiss on her burning forehead. "Shh," I smiled coyly, "it'll all be over in just a moment. I'll be back for you in the morning."

And I left my wide red-eyed pet to go hunt. Tomorrow I would be back with food.

The next morning, I found that she hadn't moved. I wasn't sure if I should have been surprised. Sure, her straightjacket wasn't strong enough to contain a vampire, but she probably wasn't much used to her senses, and hadn't had much time to recover from the pain.

"I brought you something," I smiled curtly.

The girl was too ravaged with thirst to speak. I lowered the deer toward her and she sunk her fangs into its neck, devouring every last drop of blood inside it. When she looked up at me, her eyes were still red: her face covered in blood.

"Good good," I said, "how do you feel?"

"What…the hell did you do to me?" she growled.

"Just what I told you," I said sweetly, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder, "saved you."

"Saved me?" she shrieked. In a fit of rage, she burst free from the straight-jacket, leaving nothing but a flimsy nightgown between my eyes and her pale, naked skin. "You made me a monster!"

She lunged forward with her newborn strength and had me pinned to the ground within instants. "Not so fast, pretty girl," I cooed, "you haven't even told me your name."

"My name…" she took a moment to think. "My name? Fuck! What's my name! I don't remember my name!"

"Well my name is Rosalie," I said, "I'm a vampire. And now, you are too."

"Yes, I see that," she hissed. "What's my name?"

My eyes darted to a crumpled wristband in the dirt, with everything but "Alice" soaked in blood.

"Your name is Alice," I said. "Since I found you, you'll be Alice Hale."

"Alice Hale," she repeated. "Alice Hale…Hale doesn't sound right."

"It's my name," I said. "And now it's yours too."

"No," she shook her head. "No, no, no, no, no. Stay away from me. You stay the fuck away from me."

Smiling faintly, I nodded and said, "go on then, pretty Alice. Have some fun. I'll wait."

She broke away running and I observed from a distance as she did what every unsupervised newborn did: kill anyone and anything that hurt them in a savage bloodbath. I wondered if my little Alice had any idea why she was ripping apart the flesh of every "doctor" at that mental hospital I stole her from. Either way, as she fed from them, she looked every bit as horrified as they did and I relished the site.

By nightfall, she fell at my feet, looking more exhausted than one usually saw a vampire. Though our kind didn't sleep, we did occasionally need rest. When she finally pulled herself into a sitting position on the ground, she breathed, "what do you want from me?"

I pulled her up against, me, forcing her to stand. "Everything," I said, planting a rough kiss on her throat. "You. Period."

"Get lost!" she warned, pushing me to the ground.

"Oh," I laughed, "I'm sorry. I thought you came back to me."

Her face looked defeated. "I'm so thirsty," she said, "will it always hurt like this?"

I nodded. "It's why we have to find ways to distract ourselves, love."

"If you're trying to hit on me, forget it," Alice said.

"No one," I hissed, pinning her to the ground, "says no to me. Understand?"

She rolled me over, getting my blonde curls and lavender dress covered in the same mud that covered her. Now I was angry. "Come here," I hissed, "come here now."

In her newborn state, Alice may have been stronger than me, but I was more agile, and better able to control my body. We struggled on the ground for several minutes: fighting with teeth, nails, fists, elbows, everything we had. My skin was raw and bloody, but I couldn't give up until Alice did. Her adrenaline was unlikely to wear down, but I knew she couldn't go on forever. When she let her guard down for a moment, I tore away her nightgown: leaving her dirty body exposed in the moonlight. My nails dug into her sides and she squealed in fear.

"Rosalie," she breathed, "stop it."

"Make me," I challenged her.

There wasn't a part of her I didn't touch: wasn't a part of her I didn't shred and taste and break. She tried the same on me, but modesty and shame made her weak beneath me. The entire encounter, don't get me wrong, was more of a fight than a domination but I enjoyed the conquest nonetheless. Hours later, Alice was lying in my arms, pouring mental doctor blood and venom.

"You raped me," she whimpered. "You raped me."

I wanted to say one of those cliché and horrible things monsters like me were wont to say like, "I only gave you what you wanted," but I couldn't bring myself to say it. Instead, I only firmed my grasp on her shaking body and held her until she had the strength to run and waited for the day she'd have no choice but to run into me again.