Marseille, France
The line between right and wrong is one that I often find blurred.
You can do this, Violet. I reassured myself, fists clenching in frustration and guilt. These were the usual happenings when an occasion such as this arose; one would think that I had grown numb to the possibilities of being discovered, but the nerves never failed to surface just before the time to act came.
From where I stood, it was difficult to tell whether the humans had vacated the morgue for the evening. Of course, had I chosen a position other than two blocks away from the hospital, my answer would, most likely, be obvious. The lights in the spacious room had been turned off, that much I could tell. Though I couldn't imagine a human willingly working on the body of a deceased in darkness, stranger things had happened. Take myself, for example: standing in the middle of a deserted street at three o'clock in the morning, staring at the back of a hospital. I'm fairly certain that any normal person would call that 'crazy', as you say. Then again, the term 'normal' hasn't applied to me for quite some time.
A sharp pain in my gums reminded me of my reasons for being in this place. I sighed at the familiar ache, offering my surroundings a farewell glance before jamming my eyes shut. Inhale. Exhale. The colors and shapes beneath my eyelids weaved a picture of morbidity, one that I would soon join. Inhale. Exhale. Sound drained from my conscious mind, fluttering away like a frightened pigeon. Coolness rushed by me from several different directions, slicing through my tattered clothes with the ease of a well-sharpened knife.
Inhale. Exhale.
Air stopped hitting my form, while sound- or, should I say, the lack thereof -returned to my ears. I hoped that that silence meant no human life, or this little trip would have no meaning. As I opened my eyes, my suspicions were confirmed. The only company I would find in here would be that of the dead.
They each lived behind a metal door, completely tucked away from prying eyes. The only initial indication of their presence belonged to the acidic stench of embalming fluid, which burned my nostrils each time I visited. This evening was no different, forcing me to cover the lower half of my face with my sleeve.
A small sliver of light peeked out from behind the door of a nearby refrigerator. I made my way towards it as quietly as possible, pausing once to sniff the air. The only scent was that of the horrible formaldehyde. Good, very good.
Easing the door open, my gaze met at least two dozen bags of a tantalizing substance. Dark and subtly glistening, every one of them caused my canines to throb. I snatched three without taking the time to examine their labels.
Turning to leave, I almost yelped in surprise when I came face to face with a young man. He smirked, dark lips pulling back to reveal a set of pearly white teeth. I hardly paid them any attention, however, as his gaze had arrested me. Unblinking and glassy, his eyes shone a vibrant crimson. I didn't recall ever seeing such a color, and found it unsettling. He certainly wasn't human, that was for sure.
It didn't take very long to decide that danger had finally discovered me. Within milliseconds, the bags in my grasp vanished, reappearing in the stony hands of the mysterious man. He chuckled, dangling them directly in front of my nose in a manner that wasn't exactly playful. I growled, realizing that his speed outmatched mine by a landslide; there would be no chance at getting those bags back.
"Que voulez-vous? (A/N: "What do you want")?" I spat, already tired of his little games. He had obviously followed me here for a reason; no man- scratch that, thing -sneaks into a hospital just for fun.
"Tsk, tsk. No manners, I see." he shook his head, that arrogant smirk still playing on his lips. Anger welled up inside me as one of the nearby trays began to rattle. The man spared it a questioning glance, so quickly that a human wouldn't notice.
His next comment sent me over the edge. "Oh, well. That can be fixed."
Who did he think he was, talking to me as though I were an animal from the zoo? I hissed, fangs extending of their own accord. The previously rattling tray cracked loudly, launching off of the table and skidding across the floor.
From down the hall, voices and rapidly approaching footsteps could be heard. I pretended not to notice them, very aware of the anxiety bubbling in my stomach.
Get out, now! My mind screamed. I squinted at the man, who seemed to be not the least bit concerned about the humans. Instead, he remained smiling. Oh, how I was beginning to dislike that grin.
Focus, Violet. I reminded myself, picturing the deserted street to the best of my ability. The image was shaky at best, though enough to send the air around me in a whirl. Colors and shapes flashed before my eyes as all sound dissolved. The man was long gone from my presence, a distant memory.
At least, that's what I hoped.
Blinking, I let out a shaky sigh as the deserted street became my surroundings. It was cut short, however, when something collided with the back of my skull and sent my vision into blackness.
I had lost all consciousness before my attacker could make himself known.
Hello again, world! For those of you who read the original version of this story, this IS the rewrite which I informed you of. If you're a newer reader, welcome! As a quick note, I would just like to explain that Violet is not a 'Twilight' vampire, but an entirely different kind.
Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know, and thank you so very much for reading!