"We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick." - Atticus
Bella Swan was going to be dead within the hour.
I was predator. She was my prey. There was nothing else in the whole world but that truth.
My throat was an inferno, aching for the sweetest relief I would ever know. Venom flooded into my mouth as my stomach twisted with hunger. My body shifted towards her, her blood a siren song.
Not a full second had passed from the step that had put her directly into the flow of the heated air towards me. Not a full second had passed from the step that had killed her.
Her eyes slid towards me in movement that she clearly meant to be stealthy - It took the barest of moments for her to process the scene, to read the inhuman viciousness of my face, and shock blossomed across her own as she stumbled. Clumsy. Weak.
Bella Swan rushed now, her gait uncoordinated and awkward as if she sensed the underlying danger. She tripped just before my table - our table - her foot hooked by an errant bag in the aisle, and she barely caught herself with the stool. My body coiled in anticipation at the sheer vulnerability of the display.
Her fall had her scent swirling around me like a cyclone, tearing desperately at my control. Her gaze flashed to mine again - perhaps in panic, perhaps in embarrassment - and blood flooded her cheeks, turning her skin the most delicious color I had ever seen.
It was simple. She was my undoing.
I met her eyes - ready to propel forward, ready to kill - but I saw myself mirrored there. Saw the too sharp face of the monster I had spent decades beating back with effort and uncompromising discipline. And here was this insignificant girl so easily bringing it to the surface by her mere existence.
In an instant, I saw two faces in my mind.
The first was mine, or rather what had been mine: the red-eyed monster that was judge, jury, and executioner. A killer of killers. More appropriately, it was a poorly masked god-complex. A time of rebellion that had lead to so many deaths that I'd stopped counting their numbers.
The other face was Carlisle's. His kind eyes not judging, but loving. I had hoped my face had begun to reflect his - had started to parallel the patience in his brow and compassion in his smile. But any similarities were lost on the monster, angles feral and teeth sharp.
I knew that Carlisle would forgive me for this horrible act I was about to commit. In the most simplest of terms, I was his son and he would continue to love me even as I proved him wrong. The misery of this fact hurt almost as much as the fire in my throat.
Almost.
The girl finally sat down on the stool next to me, her back stiff and gaze averted. She shook out her long, thick, mahogany hair in my direction and I had to grip the edge of the desk to keep me from slaughtering her right there.
She was taunting me. There was no other explanation for it.
I would be quick. I would take only twenty seconds to drain this girl, to devour every drop of that ethereal blood. It would be a nearly painless death - just the flash of my teeth piercing her jugular and she would lose consciousness rapidly, like falling asleep. Gentle even.
But there were be the matter of witness. The innocent bystanders in this classroom, eighteen other children and one man, could not be allowed to leave this room, having seen what they would soon see.
It would take about ten seconds for them to realize what was happening. For panic and pandemonium to ensue. Screaming would draw the attention of others as they fled the classroom and I would be too far lost in the haze of feeding to stop them. I would be exposed as the monster I really was.
I flinched at the thought of what I must do… I would have to kill them all first. Even at my very worst, I had never committed this kind of atrocity. My victims had barely been more human that I was. I had never killed innocents, not in over eight decades. And now I planned to slaughter twenty of them at once.
I leaned away from Bella Swan in revolution - revolted by the monster aching to take her.
Why did she have to come here? Why did she have to exist? Why did she have to ruin the little peace I had in this non-life of mine? Why had this aggravating human ever been born? She would ruin me, ruin the lives of nineteen others, ruin the precarious existence my family had constructed in this town.
No. A trade the monster suggested.
A different plan. I would wait, wait until the bell rung and then introduce myself. A spur of the forest reached out like a finger to touch the back corner of the parking lot and it would be easy enough to lead her astray, to isolate her. No witnesses. No collateral. One life in exchange for twenty… that was fair wasn't it?
Yes. A far lesser evil.
I soothed my shoulders back, easing the tension from my form as I breathed in deeply. Her scent was an inescapable cloud around us, saturating, but I welcomed it now. No more resistance. Only the electric buzz of anticipation.
I slowly unclenched my hold from the desk. My grip had shredded through the strut, leaving the shape of my fingers carved into the wood. I smoothed away the imprint with my fingertips, scattering the shavings with my foot.
No evidence. That was the fundamental rule.
I looked at the girl again, trying to reach her thoughts through the curtain of hair she placed between us. Was there fear? Knowing? Could she sense her breaths were numbered?
No. There was no way for her to know. But the fear was inarguably there, whether she recognized it or not, written in the tenseness of her shoulders and quickness of breath. And her heart - beating just slightly faster than a usual speed - was warm and wet-
Soon, I assured the monster. Soon.
The girl must of sensed my stare for she turned, peeking cautiously. A small gasp of surprise slid from her lips and I didn't need my extra ability to know what she saw. My burning hatred had been tucked away into warm, inviting eyes, the severity of my face softened. My body language was no longer tense and closed off but open and welcoming.
I quirked my lips into a smile, careful not to show teeth, and another irresistible blush blossomed across her cheeks.
She saw the sheep I dressed myself to be.
Her wide eyes were painted with confusion, no doubt wondering at my abrupt flip in behavior, and I could only guess at the questions forming: Had she imagined the whole thing? Had I not glared at her earlier with pure, unadulterated hatred?
I averted my gaze to the board as if I were embarrassed to be caught staring. A perfectly human act. She shifted forward again, the curtain spilling back in place.
Impatience was how I made it through the class. Impatience and imagining how smooth her blood would be on my throat. How easy it would be to sink my teeth into her -
The bell rang. There was a flurry of sounds - stools scraping across the linoleum, papers rustling, and the upsweep of conversation.
Bella Swan was still on the forefront of thoughts, still a shiny new toy. One particular stream of thoughts caught my attention: Mike Newton was gathering up the courage to approach her, to ask her about her next class, to take her away from me.
I barely caught the growl reverberating from my chest.
The monster was clear. Now.
"Bella."
She looked at me then, her wide eyes clearly startled, still unsure what to make of my erratic behavior.
"My name is Edward Cullen. May I walk you to your next class?" I leaned towards her as I spoke, my breath fanning across her face and her eyes turned glassy.
"H-how do you know my name?" She seemed confused, unsteady. A little pucker had formed between her eyes.
I stifled my irritation, resisting the strong urge to go back to my first plan. My throat craved for relief. One instead of twenty I reminded myself.
"Oh, I think everyone knows your name." My tone was charming. Comforting. Surely this girl must have realized she'd become the center of attention in this place?
"No." She shook her head. "I meant, why did you call me Bella?"
I struggled through the bloodlust to make sense of her question. She had unmistakably corrected everyone who had interacted with her earlier that day to refer to her as Bella. "Do you prefer Isabella?"
"No, I like Bella." She shrugged her bag onto one shoulder, sweeping her long tresses to the other. Her expression seemed… embarrassed? "But I think Charlie - I mean my dad - must call me Isabella behind my back. That's what everyone here seems to know me as at least."
It took me a moment to realize my mistake. If I hadn't been eavesdropping on all the others, I would've referred to her by her full name, just like everyone else. She'd notice the difference.
The irritation of her silent thoughts came back at full force, fueling the hatred boiling in my veins. What was this silent creature?
"But thanks for the offer. I have absolutely no sense of direction." She laughed a little in self-deprecation. "Do you know where the gym is?"
I couldn't keep the monster's smile out of my voice. "Of course."
The majority of the class had filtered out during our conversation. Only a handful remained, shooting each other brief expressions of bewildered disbelief as a Cullen, a proclaimed social recluse, interacted with the new girl. It would have been impossible to interact with the girl without drawing some attention but this was the best I could hope for. The less people to tie me to her the better.
At the door, another blush swelled to her skin when I carefully tugged up the hood of her rain jacket. My answering smile in was probably a tad too feral, but I couldn't find it in me to care.
"Wouldn't want you to get wet," I winked.
The long dark hair would be a beacon for attention, easily recognizable to any unexpected passerby. But two twin rain jackets wouldn't raise any suspicion. Just two students going to class.
A second was all it took to change everything.
Outside the weather tugged at us, the breeze tearing every which way, and suddenly her scent wasn't as intense. It was still present, still requiring every bit of strength I had to not kill her that second, but it didn't collect and saturate like it had in the small stuffy classroom. Out in the open it spread out, watered down by the wind and rain, and small dose of my sanity returned.
And then the clarity of what I was about to do hit me like a battering ram.
I was going to kill Bella Swan. I was going to kill an innocent human girl. I was going to lose the fight against what I tried so hard not to be.
Carlisle's face appeared to me again. His eyes forever understanding and his smile supportive. My mentor. My father.
"Edward?" Bella's tone was uncertain. I had become too still, my expression hardened once more.
The wind shifted again and her scent struck me in all its potency. Carlisle's face turned grotesque, turned to the red-eyed monster. A stark contrast. Day and night.
Her scent had me under lock and I couldn't escape the chains.
"Are you alright?" She touched my arm lightly in concern, her warmth palpable even through the layers of clothing. The monster waited anxiously, hungrily, for me to do it.
The burning hatred returned at full force. No longer was it unjustly aimed at the poor girl but now at the true deserving person.
Myself.
I hated myself for my weakness, for succumbing to my innate nature that I spent the better part of my existence fighting against. I hated myself for the hardships I would bring to my family. For the disappointment I would read in their thoughts. For the shame and embarrassment of failure.
But my body was like a magnet for the iron in her blood.
"I'm sorry." I grimaced. "But I left a book I need for my next class in my car, would you mind walking with me to go get it?"
Every fiber of my being yearned for her to say no. To just turn and go to class. To free me of her hold. To free me of the monster's hold. And for the briefest of moments, her expression was unsure and a dull hope swelled in my chest.
But then she said. "Yeah. Sure. Of course."
And the monster smiled.
I turned towards the parking lot. My pace was quick, perhaps too quick, for she struggled to match my strides. Or perhaps she was just extraordinarily clumsy for a human. Either seemed equally possible.
The small rational part of my mind wondered where Alice was. Had she not seen me murder this girl in a multitude of ways? Wouldn't she come to help me - to stop this disaster before it came to fruition?
Jasper. She must've been spending every ounce of her power on him, making sure there wouldn't be any accidents today.
How I hated irony.
The fire in my throat had never been stronger. Had never been harder to ignore. The bloodlust was a inescapable haze for sanity and my fate was decided.
We were a little more than half way to where the woods met the parking lot when she tripped. I caught her by the wrist and her flesh was tender beneath the sleeve of her jacket, the thrum of her pulse beating against my hand, the blood rushing-
I was undone.
I was not making it to the forest, this was far enough. No one else was in the parking lot. No witnesses. No collateral.
In the next instant her back was pinned to nearest car. The shock of the movement knocked the breath out of her, those wide eyes darting madly in bewilderment, searching for stability.
"What the-" And then she focused on me. The shift in the atmosphere was palpable as she read the scene before her, read the visceral hunger contorting my features, my too close proximity, the impenetrable hold on her wrist.
The tempo of her heart increased as panic set into her system.
"Edward?" Barely a whisper.
My eyes traced the plains of her face. I was memorizing every feature, every trait, every flaw that made her herself: Her pale translucent skin, the slight widow's peak of her hairline, her pink lips that were disproportionately large in relation to her jawline, her delicate chin that was too sharp in comparison to her heart-shaped face. And her eyes that were beautifully dark and silent... the warmest shade of brown.
Everything that I was destroying.
One last time I tried to pry her thoughts from her. Those secrets were surely there in the sweet depths of her eyes. But I only saw myself reflected.
It no longer mattered. Her silent thoughts would be taken to the grave.
I slowly shifted the long dark hair guarding her neck to the side. Electricity erupted wherever my cold fingers caressed her skin, traveling the edge of her jawline before carefully pressing against the pulse point of her throat.
The pace was staccato. The monster smiled in anticipation.
"I'm so sorry." I chocked out before instinct overcame me. Before I lost myself entirely.
I moved forward, my lips replacing my fingers, hovering. The aroma was overpowering, mouthwatering, and my control was slipping.
"Close your eyes," I said. And then my teeth pierced the fragile skin.
It was my day of reckoning and I had failed.