AN: This is an entry for SulpiciaDoesntApprove's Volturi fanfic contest. It might be too short though...hmm. Never thought about that. On with the disclaimer/purpose. Still hope it's not too short.
Disclaimer: Roses are red. Violets are blue. I don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does. Boo hoo.
Purpose: Written for the Volturi FanFic contest, prompt word justice.
Author: xx-Eyes for Eternity-xx
Title: Justice Has No Meaning In My City
Characters: Jane Volturi, random little boy
Genre: Tragety, Drama
Rated: K+
Warning: Not much, slight mention of blood/flesh. Nothing worse than what the Twilight saga has. *shrugs* Jane quite OOC. *double shrugs*
Justice Has No Meaning In My City
Humans. Simple, primitive creatures. Of no use. So it causes me no pain to kill them, day after day, ten at a time. They have no effect on the world. And if they truly knew the world, they'd want to die anyway. Just the thought of vampires, creatures of the night, waiting outside their door in the darkness, waiting to quench their thirst. I saw this as doing them a favor.
The feeding begins. I see a young boy, cowering in the corner, helpless. He must be only five. Hmm, less blood. Oh, well. Either that, or that strange woman over there. She smells like she has too high blood sugar. Ugh.
I close in on the boy, my small body looking harmless. My angelic face looking caring. I always liked to play with my food a bit.
"Hello, there, child. This is sure a frightening scene, now. Isn't it?" I ask. He nods. Ah, boy. Trust is a very bad thing.
"Would you like me to make it go away?" He has no realization of the true words I just told him. I move closer, and pat his shoulder. He's full out grinning now, wide and toothy. Hmm. Such a nice looking child. Too late, though. I lunge forward, and rip into the flesh. I ignore the shriek erupting just above where my ear is, the thick liquid flooding into my mouth is just to delectable. What had the child done to deserve this? It may not be what he's done, but what he would eventually do. A five year old has innocence. A fifteen year old may not. I was saving him from the regret, the shame that he'd have to take if he continued to live. What a grand lie that was. He had done nothing to deserve this, so why was I doing this? There was no justice in such a massacre. But then again, what is justice to a vampire? I left the bleeding boy, leaving the room. I was the last one to leave. Poor child. Left with a cold, drained body. Another lie. Here comes another vampire.
I was too weak to finish the job.