November 1678, England

My dear Grandmother Joan, whom died long before I was born, always had a story to tell. Unfortunately, one of those stories inspired a vendetta in Arthur.

England , 1678, Joan, 7 years old, was expecting a sibling. Rarely does a child vampire feel the joy of a similar aged sibling, but Joan was no different. With all the suspicion and witch hunts at the time, she didnt stand a chance. Her mother had been pregnant for over two years now, which did not go unnoticed by certain members of the public. Rising early in the morning, Joan couldn't help but notice the fog was glowing in the distance. Waking her mother and father to show her the strange phenomenon brought horror upon the family.

Her father walked outside, and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Get some shoes on, where leaving!" He commanded, his eyes revealing his worried state.
The family each grabbed shoes, and Joan was dragged out the door by her father. The pretty glowing in the distance was brighter. Closer. As the trio fled, Joan oblivious to what was coming, the angry mob came upon the house. The house was joined by the glow, and althought the fog was thick, Joan knew the house was aflame. 7 small glowing spheres broke off from the house, spreading around the area with extreme speed.

The speed of the horses was far superior to the fleeing vampires, especially with one being pregnant, and soon one of the spheres revealed the prescence of a horseman, who caught sight of the family. A horn sounded, and the other glowing spheres changed direction, directing themselves to the horseman. Joan knew what was happening now. Her mothers worried sobs had given away her fate.
"I'll distract them." Were her fathers only words, as he unexpectedly changed direction.
There was no time to call him back.

They reached the thick woods now. That would not save them. The other horseman wre approaching, and Joan was hurriedly hidden in a bush.
"Don't move. Don't make a sound. If anyone asks, I was going to kill you." Her mother said, binding Joan in her concealed spot, gagging her.
As she moved away from the spot, the horsemen finally caught her, there torches burning the morning fog. Joan watched from her position as her mother was caught.

Before long, a large mob surrounded her mother, her father brought forth. They were tied to a young, dead tree. The mob threw down logs at there feet, to the sound of her fathers screams.
"Give her a trial!" he screamed.
Then, Joans mother said something noone expected.
"Its no use, they'll find our breakfast before we get a chance to flee," she spoke, admission of her fate laced through her delicate voice.
"HERE!" A man cried from the crowd, bringing forth Joan, taking off the gag.
Outrage poured from the crowd, cries of cannabalism and witchcraft.
"You deserve no trial," a horsman stated, issuing silence. "You will burn."
Joan was shocked at how plain the mans voice was. Tears streaming down her face, which the mob mistook for fright of the witches, Joan watched the flames come to life.

Joan watched as her parents were consumed by the fire, as her parents murderer cooed softly to her, attempting to comfort her.
"It'll be alright, their gone now." The man whispered.


Joan, raising Arthur almost 200 years later, she taught him her morals. She passed down her hate for humans to him, which he attempted to pass down to me. Fortunatley my mother was on an alternate side. She somewhat quelled his hate for the species while she was alive. But thats another story. One I'm not up to disclosing.

(Events as described by Arthur)