Okay, so this is Emmett's story. This chapter is Rosalie finding him, and the change!
I rewrote this. I read the old first chapter, and it was absolutely atrocious. Hah(: So I rewrote it! I'll get around to rewriting the other two chapters, and writing beyond, but this first.
Please review! Comments, constructive criticism, and questions are much welcome!
Tell me if you like it! Thank you(:
I was about to die.
I knew, as I looked in to the cold, dark eyes locked with mine, that I was about to die.
It was here, in the clearing, hidden in the shade of the trees, when I saw it first. I was fast; I tried to run, but it was faster. The huge grizzly bear loomed over me, growling. I shuffled as far back into the underbrush as I could; I couldn't move far, I was too hurt. The ground around me was stained with blood. My blood, I thought in a daze.
I looked over at my gun; it was laying twenty feet away, behind the huge bear. I mentally slapped myself for not wearing the strap. This shouldn't have happened. I was hunting, like I had done hundreds of times before:
I tightened my grip on the gun. The huge fallen tree was almost as big around as I was tall, and had to be over 100 feet long in each direction. I was going to have to climb over it. Looking for a branch I could use as a handhold; I found one, and took hold of it. I pulled myself up, huffing when my foot couldn't get a grip on the rough bark. I rolled over the branch, and landed on my back on the other side with a thud. "Ouch," I muttered, and stood up.
I shook it off, and continued through the trees. A twig snapped, and I turned, ready to shoot. A bunny hopped out of the trees. I laughed, and straightened up, gripping my gun. I pushed forward, until I came to a wall of trees and underbrush. Ducking through, I found myself in a large clearing.
I stepped forward, intrigued. It was there, in the middle of that fateful clearing, when I heard it .The wind picked up; the leaves rustled. And ever so softly, a low growl, barely audible. I spun around, only to find myself face to face with a giant grizzly.
Immediately, reacting on instinct, I reached for my gun, ready to shoot. But faster than I thought possible, the bear reached up; letting out a deafening roar, and slashed down. The gun flew out of my arm; I fell to the ground, clutching my bleeding arm.
The bear came at me again, pushing me to scramble farther to the edge. His paws came down, raking across my thigh. I heard screams; it took me a moment to realize they were mine . . .
And that's where I was now. Laying on the cold, hard ground, bleeding to death. The bear stepped back; I took my chance, overcome with unknown energy. I scrambled to my feet, and started to run. It was but a few seconds that I had, and it wasn't enough. The grizzly caught my food and dragged me back. Its teeth broke through my skin; I felt warm blood seep through my socks.
It yanked me back, and my body dragged on the ground like a rag doll. I didn't cry out. I didn't have the energy to. The grizzly pushed me over with its paw, and left me lying like before.
He paused, and his head bent to mine, sniffing me cautiously. I felt what energy I had left draining slowly, ebbing away. I knew I was on the brink of death. But I forced my eyes open, and my mind clear; I was determined to hold on to my life.
He watched me fight the pain, but I could tell he was getting bored. If only he would tire and leave me alone. As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew hope was futile. He was going to kill me. The realization fully dawned on me; I felt numb.
I knew I could do nothing to stop my approaching death. My heartbeats are numbered, I thought bitterly. I had to release the last holds on this mortal life.
So I closed my eyes, refusing to watch as the bear ripped out my throat.
In my head, everything was silent. I knew the bear was there, I could almost feel his presence, but I had blocked out all sounds, preferring to die in peace. Then, a vicious snarl broke the silence, slicing it like a knife.
I wretched my eyes open; I looked toward the sound, and I knew I was dead.
I saw an angel.
She was beautiful. Soft, golden hair falling in torrents around a dazzling heart shaped face. Pale skin, with eyes like molten topaz. Light pink lips like rose buds.
She gazed at me with her concerned eyes; they were like liquid gold.
Her eyes flickered back to the bear; I saw them harden with anger. Her small lips pulled back in a snarl, and the vicious sound echoed through the clearing. My eyes closed involuntarily.
Terrible sounds filled the clearing; I could no longer block it out. I heard inhuman snarls and savage growls. An awful tearing noise and a menacing roar. The fight sounded for about a minute. I heard a desperate groan, and then silence.
The last ounce of strength I had slipped away, and I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I was in the angel's arms, and she studied me. Her arms were hard, and cold. I shuddered, and her frown deepened. I looked at her face more closely; impossibly, she was more beautiful close up. Her eyes were soft, and deep; molten topaz. Under her eyes were soft purple shadows, they stood out in stark contrast to her ivory skin. Her hair was the color of pure gold. She absolutely glowed; it was as if a faint light was all around her. Her flawless lips pulled back in a smile: it was the sun shining after the storm. Then, her dazzling face lit up in bright determination, and I knew she could only be an angel. I couldn't feel much pain. Maybe I had gone to heaven. Either way, I just wanted to stay with her. My angel, I thought.
She moved, it felt like rocking. Then, we were flying. I was still in her arms, and the forest was flying by me. I gazed up to the angel's face. Her rosebud lips were pressed in a tight line, and her eyes were locked in front of us. She looked like she was in pain. I tried to keep my heavy eyelids up, but I was fighting a losing battle. The angel's sweet face was slipping away. Then, everything went black. Goodbye, my angel.
I woke up to the face of God.
I must be in heaven.
I looked frantically around, and saw my angel behind God. I sighed with relief. He looked me over, and I waited patiently to hear his analysis. Then my eyes closed again. I waited.
Abruptly, I was in immense pain. Apparently, God has sent me to the fires of Hell.
I was bewildered– I couldn't make sense of anything, of what was happening. My veins were on fire. I was burning, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move, couldn't think.
It was so quick; like grabbing the end of a white-hot poker. I heard screaming, and realized – with surprise – that it was me. I didn't think I had the energy to even scream. My body was burning.
Never before could I remember any pain. Not pain like this. I remembered the time I had knocked a pan of boiling hot grease onto me – I remembered the searing like being submerged in acid – remembered screaming in pain. It was nothing to this.
I remembered the grizzly slashing my body open – deep gashes torn through my flesh – and blood spilling out onto the ground. That was nothing. It was like going to sleep after a long day. I would take it again – a hundred times – take it and be grateful.
I wanted to scream, to move and thrash and escape the pain, but I couldn't. It was like a huge weight pressing down on me. I was completely and inescapably paralyzed while I burned.
I couldn't do anything except endure this purgatory. I couldn't think. All I knew was the burning, the fire. Every inch of me seared with white hot fire. My veins ran with molten lava, my skin stung with a thousand needles as the flames licked my body. What could be days felt like seconds.
I wanted it to stop.
Let it stop. Please, just let it stop. Make it stop.
I tried to think of anything besides the pain, but it was impossible.
It could have been seconds, days, weeks, or years, until eventually; time came to mean something again. For what seemed like an eternity, it went on. The fire burned as bright and hot as ever. My misery continued.
I lay there, in the fires of Hell, and waited.
Time passed. I wasn't aware of how much time, but I could feel time going by – in slow agonizing lurches – and I continued to wait.
The fire continued to burn, I began to develop a new sensitivity to it, to every blistering, burning vein – and I discovered I could think around it. I was surprised to realize that I had retained the ability to think. I let my mind wander.
My thoughts were confused. I began to think more clearly every passing moment; thoughts and words instead of feelings and emotions. It was then I realized something was changing. I didn't know what, I hadn't gone far enough to figure it out, but something –besides being able to think again – was changing. I just continued to wait, and think.
I began to count. It was almost – almost – a distraction from the pain. I counted seconds.
Twelve thousand, one hundred and four seconds later, I felt a change.
I realized I could feel. I couldn't move, not yet. But I was aware of my body, which surprised me – surprise, an emotion I didn't think I still had – my body should be reduced to charred remnants, a pile of dust. I felt slight pressure against my wrist. No temperature, either that or no difference. The only temperature I knew was hot.
Six thousand, seven hundred and sixty three seconds later, another change.
I began to hear. Hearing was something I never expected to do again; it came as a great surprise. I listened, and the first sound was a voice. It could belong only to my angel. It was so beautiful; it almost hurt to hear. It was a single word, it sounded almost of longing, but I couldn't distinguish the word. Then, when the pieces clicked in my head, I realized the angel must be staying with me. I just hoped she didn't have to go through the pain too.
Later, voices sounded again. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I could hear the emotions beneath the words. It sounded like my angel; though I hated to think of my angel being angry. Her voice was low and soft, yet furious. Deadly and beautiful. She sounded like she was arguing, but I couldn't understand the words yet.
I continued to listen, until the words began to make sense, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together.
"What do you want to do, Rosalie?" The voice was soft, and kind. "I can't help him now." A growl sounded, then silence again.
Later, I heard more talking. "How is he?" It was a different voice than I had heard before.
"He's going to be okay. It should be soon . . ." The voice trailed off, and I heard a new sound. Footsteps. They were light, but I could distinguish them as footsteps. Then, a click of a door opening.
I heard sounds constantly then. It helped, the pain was still as prominent as ever – the front of my mind – but now I had distractions from it, though I never came close to forgetting the fire. I counted.
I began to hear more. I could hear a sound like a heartbeat. It couldn't be mine, but I didn't know where the sound was coming from, or why it was so loud. Now that I had heard it, I couldn't stop hearing the overbearing, uneven beats. It sounded like a dying heart; it pounded out in a broken, disjointed rhythm. But it was new. It told me that I was still changing. And it gave me something new to count. It was slower, the time moved differently when I counted in beats.
Twenty-one thousand, nine hundred and seventy three heartbeats later came the biggest change yet.
It changed. The pain changed. It was the only thing constant; it came as a shock to me – another emotion I didn't know I still had: shock. But it was true, the pain began to slow.
Slowly and surely it began to ebb away. It was still there, but it was as if I were hardening, as if I were becoming immune to the fire.
It was slow, but it was new. I counted seconds again. The pain lessened inch by inch. It faded first from my fingertips and toes.
One thousand and seventeen seconds later:
"It's happening."
The soft voice interrupted my counting; the first voice I had heard in awhile, and by far the sweetest. It was my angel. The same voice I had heard before, but no longer marred by anger. It was like silk, no other way to describe the smoothness of the beautiful voice.
Other voices came, but I concentrated solely on that of my angel.
"Soon." She murmured, over and over. If it was to me, I couldn't tell, but I listened to the sound of silk, and continued to count the beats. The pain was still slowing. I felt stronger.
Then, sixty-four thousand, five hundred and two seconds later – the longest time yet by far – came a change I wasn't expecting.
Three things happened together, grew from each other so I didn't know which came first: the heartbeats changed, I was overcome with sound and emotion, and the pain changed.
The slow, steady beats stopped, and starting again at the same time. It took off, sounding like the blades of a helicopter, or the whirring of a hummingbird's wings. It was like one single sustained note. The sound overtook everything else; it drowned out the sound of the angel. Either that or the angel had stopped her murmuring. I was overcome with emotion, a longing to hear the angel's perfect voice. And then, of course, the fire. Since it had started to slow, it had been a constant flame: unbearable and painful, but constant. But now the flames flared up in my chest. The fire disappeared from the rest of my body, all to fuel the most scorching blaze yet.
The fire constricted, and the sound changed again. The beats slowed rapidly, I wouldn't have noticed beyond the fire if the sound hadn't filled my eardrums. Finally, the beats stuttered: once, twice, and then, they stopped.
The heartbeats had stopped, but so had everything else. The pain had stopped. I knew it was slowing. I knew I was changing. I knew something was happening, but I never expected this. The sounds had stopped, the silence pressed down on my eardrums.
For a moment the absence of pain was all I could comprehend.
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