The Best Twilight Fanfiction EVER

Bella Swan laid her head on the pillow, so sick of all the people around her. They were all so substandard, so...ugly. Nothing like her. She said goodnight to her dad. Her stupid dad. Why couldn't he be handsome and rich like that dreamboat Edward. She hated everything about Forks, from the rain to the ugly people to the fact that she couldn't be near her beloved Washington Redskins. As she drifted off, she dreamed that Joe Gibbs' brain had been transplanted into Edward's body, fulfilling both her fantasies.

In another part of town...

"You got an ashtray back here?" said a rather gaunt woman with unusually short hair. "I haven't been able to light up with all this rain," she said, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her light blue sport coat.

"I believe there is one on the back of the seat in front of you, Miss Fujioka," replied the driver. With her cigarette lit, she checked the inside of her coat to make sure her instruments were in place. The 9mm was loaded, the garrote was taut and the cyanide pill bottle was closed tightly.

She looked out the window, the now darkened scenery still being pelted by raindrops. Haruhi was amazed that this city wasn't built on buoys, and everyone taking rafts to their daily obligations. For the three days she had been here scoping out her target, it had stopped raining for a grand total of five minutes. Why couldn't her targets ever live in Cabo or Malibu? Oh well, she was getting paid a pretty penny for this one. "Crimes against literature" was the reason given to her concerning the hit. What was even stranger than the reason given was the money given. At $10 million USD, the Ouran Assassin Society had almost no reason to refuse this, especially since low-notoriety, low-security targets usually go for about a fifth of that cost.

The car rolled up to the target's location. "Do I need to review your objectives, Miss Fujioka?" the driver said in his somewhat aged, vaguely British tone.

"I'm good," she replied, opening the door and stepping on the curb, trying not to ruin her nice pants and loafers by stepping on the sink pit that was the Swans' front lawn. The house was two-story, meaning in all likelihood the target would be sleeping on the second floor. Lucky for her, (and unluckily for her target) there was a tree right outside an upstairs window. She scaled the bark-girded mass and peered in the window. A female of about 17 or 18, rather plain in appearance slept in her bed, mumbling something about being ravished by a sparkling Joe Theismann. She matched the woman in the picture provided, the one Haruhi had been watching for the past 72 hours. Out of curiosity, Haruhi crawled along the branch to the window and heaved upward To her surprise, the window squeaked upward. She froze as the target stirred.

"Oh my Edward, come to me!" She was still asleep. Haruhi relaxed for a second, then slowly crawled into the room. She realized her best plan of action was to use the fact that she was sleeping to her advantage, and that ruled out using her gun or her garrote, and a cyanide tablet would point to a hired job. So, she looked the target's room over, spying some lace pillows in the corner. Why every teenage girl (herself included) had to have so many goddamn pillows in her room was a mystery of life. But Haruhi wasn't about to complain. She picked one up, sighed, and shoved it over her target's face. Soon enough, the target stopped breathing, then grabbed at Haruhi's arm before her movements stopped entirely. Haruhi checked the target's pulse, and was pleased to find none. She chucked the pillow back with the others, then opened the window and climbed out.

"What the hell were you doing in there!" a pale teenager with his pants around his ankles and his hand around his implement, crouched in the same tree that was Haruhi's entry and exit route. The sight stunned Haruhi enough to make her lose her grip for a second and fall, but she caught the next branch and swung herself onto it.

"What the hell are you doing out here, you pervert!" She replied, in a very forceful whisper.

"I was just watching her sleep!" the boy replied.

"With your hand on your penis?!"

"I really love this woman!"

"So you jack off outside her window while she sleeps?! Besides, all my research indicates this woman is a total shallow bitch to everyone around her. Why do you like her?" Haruhi said, climbing to the ground.

"Because I love the way she smells."

"Wait what! Her scent? I mean, if she wears perfume you could just-"

"NO! I MEAN THE SCENT OF HER BLOOD!"

"Okay, I'm just going to run with the 'You're a pervert' theory." She said, as she walked across the lawn towards the street. In the confusion, she had not taken note of the fact that it had stopped raining.

"Wait, I can't sense her blood anymore! Y-y-you killed her!" The man jumped down from the tree to attack Haruhi, but forgot his pants were around his ankles and fell flat to the ground.

Shit. That meant that someone had seen her face and knew she was the killer. She had no choice. The voyeur had to die.

"You bitch!" He said, pulling up his pants. "I'll never let you leave here alive!"

"I should inform you," said Haruhi, "I'm a trained assassin. You'd best just walk away." She fully intended to shoot him as soon as his back was turned.

"Well, I'm a vampire!" the boy replied. "All your bullets can't kill me, I'm too fast for them. And I don't breathe, so your garrote won't work!"

"That's a likely story. You don't even have fangs."

"No really! I'm a vampire! See my golden eyes and pale skin!"

"You don't really care about her then. You're just pissed 'cause I took your meal away!"

"I don't feast on humans. I only eat big animals. I'm a vegetarian vampire." Haruhi's face was too deeply buried in her palm to dignify that with a response.

For the next ten minutes, Haruhi just stood there and lit a cigarette. "If you're trying to get me to fall asleep. It won't work. I don't sleep." he said.

"I'm sure you don't," said Haruhi, taking a drag. She saw the first hints of light show over the mountains.

"Oh, I see your strategy," the boy said, with a smirk on his ashen face. "You think I'm going to burn up in the sun! That won't work either! Observe!" The sunshine eventually crossed the lawn to him. And then, like some awful, mangled miracle that some evil Earth-2 version of Jesus would perform, he began to glitter.

"Fuck it, I'm out of here." Haruhi flicked her cigarette and began to walk away when a scream caught her ears. She turned to see the adolescent ablaze.

"How did you...fire is my one weakness!" he staggered towards her before collapsing and being consumed by the flickering flame. Haruhi just shrugged and walked to the street corner, where the car picked her up.

"An eventful outing, I assume?" said her driver.

"Not really." she replied.

Epilogue

No charges were ever filed in the murder of Bella Swan. Mostly because the police had too many people with motives, with most of the town despising her bitchy attitude. Later, the Cullen family received a suicide note from one of their kin, a young man named Edward, saying that he was wracked with guilt over strangling his one true love to death and had immolated himself as a result.

The only problem was that no lighting implement was found in or around the pile of ash believed to be his remains. But no one really liked him either, since he was a pervert who liked to sniff people. So they figured it was best to not ask questions and just get on with their lives.

Years later, a housewife in a strained marriage would take these characters and turn them into a novel. It was critically panned and sold few copies.

As for Haruhi, she finally got her vacation, and could only laugh at the absurdity of the events that took place that damp night.

Bella went to the one place where Redskins fans are welcomed. Hell.