"So Alec and Jane are really for all intents and purposes in the Twilight universe would be considered witches when they were human. If you made Jane angry with you, even as a small child, bad things happened. Aro was aware of the twins and he was very interested in acquiring them. So imagine his disapproval when their village burned them at the stake. He interrupted that and village was no more and being burned at the stake part sort focused all their talents. Alec became all about no pain, that's where he was focusing. Whereas Jane wanted to inflict that pain on others. So that's really how their talents developed." - Stephanie Meyer.
Alec
I am going to die.
I suppose I have never really thought about death. Well, of course, I wouldn't have…it's not a subject you spend much time thinking about, do you? But all that has changed. So very quickly…that has all changed. Now I have to. Now I can't think of anything else.
Will it hurt? A childish question, but then…strictly speaking I am a child. Yes, I think it will hurt. The flames of the stake are supposed to be one of the most excruciating ways to die that man has ever thought of. Users of witchcraft are said to suffer even more agony than mere criminals; cause of their evil powers.
But that isn't true, is it? Because, though I sit here, bound in ropes, waiting for the flames to light up the hay and wood, I know I am no witch. Or rather, no wizard.
How long will it take for the flames to consume me? I'm not tall for my age – the fire will not have that much of a body to burn. But I am so young. So young. And I did have so many plans for my life – plans that are now shattered. If I have a worst regret, it would be that. I couldn't wait to grow up, get out, get a job, a wife, a home of my own. Away from my Mother's angry slaps. Away from the suspicion. Away from the whispers, taunts…and then accusations, of our village.
For years, I have suffered this. The ever increasing talk of how I and my sister are cursed children, sent by the devil to bring horror and shame to our village. Ridiculous.
In truth, the only proof they have of this accusation is from my sister. My twin sister, Jane, whom I love so dearly, and would die for. Who I'm now going to die for. Because in truth, if it was not for her, I might not be facing death now. Not yet, at least. If she had not had her revenge on Mr. Evans after what he called her I would perhaps live to see tomorrow.
But she did. So I won't.
I look over at my sister. Jane looks the opposite of how I feel. Her face is juttered sharply up, and she glares with utter fury at our executers. Defiance. Determination.
She looks away from them for a second – and her eyes meet mine. She gives me a twitch of the head, and half shrug, and half rise of her perfect eyebrows. She is still very pretty, even bound and after days in a dark cell. Her looks says "Here we are. This is it." Not a trace of "I'm sorry, brother. If it weren't for me you might not be here." But she would never say that. Jane isn't like that. But I don't care. I love her anyway, and I will face the flames for her, for us. Because really, even if I had not been accused now, it was only a matter of time. Jane knew that better than anyone.
I wonder about myself. Jane has always been the one who stands out – the beautiful little witch-child, who can make most terrible things happen to anyone who displeases her. I have always been different too – but I've never stood out like Jane. I am quiet – unnaturally quiet, my mother always says – and unnaturally calm. I rarely speak, not unless I have to – only to Jane. I nevercry. I never scream. I suppose I don't ever really feel the need to. I'm not emotional. Not expressive. I'm just…me.
My sister calls me "numb" sometimes. A private joke between us.
So although my differences are the opposite of Jane's, I know, really, that it was only going to be a matter of time before I too was accused of having a witch's powers.
So I don't blame my sister for what we are about to face.
I give her a slow nod back, and she turns away again, back to face the platform that is now piled high with the bedding of our deathbed.
A man turns to us.
"It's time," he mutters.
But there's a satisfied smile creeping up the edges of his tone that makes my blood run cold with fear.
Jane
How dare they. How dare they point and stare at me like that. How dare they jeer and cheer at my death, how dare they, how dare they…
The man who has just announced that it is time to begin has his arms round me. I am tied up, bound in ropes so tight I can barely move, so he has to half drag, half carry me up to the stake.
I despise this. How weak and pitiful I must look, being carried up to my death by a low-life like him. Someone normal. I find myself hating him even before the flames are lit. But then, I hate everyone around me at this moment.
I hate my mother, who saw my talent, my power, as something terrible, something risky - rather than something so unique, so very wonderful – something that should be destroyed so she could bag another pile of coins in her mostly empty pockets. I hate the crowd before me, cheering finally, after so much eager waiting, for the burning of the witch twins, their bright faces turned up to me, alight with pleasure. I hate the people who are now yanking even more ropes around me, tying me to the wooden stake. I hate everyone, everything, and everybody – except, of course, my brother.
My brother, Alec. He stands next to me, the ropes tight around him too. His face is the opposite of how I feel. Alec and I have always been so different – and yet so much the same. I love him dearly – for he is the only person on this earth whom is similar to me in any way. We are twins, so I suppose this is to be expected. But I do love my brother, for his companionship, and for our similarities. Both of us are different – but not in the way this jeering crowd sees us. We are both so far beyond them in many, many way – we both possess powers they could only dream of.
Alec denies this, of course – but I know it to be true. One day his true talent will shine through. He has an unreal calm and numbness about him – something which is so different, yet so similar to my power.
I smile slightly at the thought. My power is not like Alec's. It is in full, glorious working order – and I wield it happily. Even as I stand facing death, I am proud of it. I am beyond every person in this village, side from my brother. I am different. I am unique. Powerful.
But not powerful enough to save myself from death.
A man takes out from his pocket a box of matches, and draws one out. I look over at my brother.
"This is it," my look says, once again. He nods, face blank and unfeeling as always – but I know he understands, and I know fear lies beneath the calm façade.
The man bends down, and lights the hay at my feet.
Flames shoot up and consume it in seconds, and I feel the hot, burning pain start at my legs. I clench my teeth and force back a scream. I will not do this. I will not show any weakness. The flames quicken, blown by the wind, and travel up my body, licking and then searing and blistering my skin. I scream out loud, unable to hold it back, and the crowd delights in my pain. How dare they. How dare they…
I force the thought of the pain slowly killing me away to the back of my mind, and imagine it flowing out from me, away from my body and onto the crowds. I imagine flames of pain consuming them; imagine my screams to be their screams. I hate them. I hate them all.
This pain is unbearable. So hot it's not even hot anymore – just blazing, endless, never ending agony. Don't think of it! I tell my self. It's not your pain, it's their pain. Every strike you feel tortures them more. Every lick of your flames is agony for them. It's not you. It's them.
These thoughts make it bearable. I close my eyes and see the people cowering in agony before me. Revenge. Punishment. My pain, their agony.
I find a twisted smile creeping onto my face.
Alec
Oh how unbearable this is. How I long for death. Scorching pain like no other is consuming my body in its fiery depths. It's creeping up my legs, and I hear Jane let out a scream. I cannot scream though. I doubt I have ever done so in my life, and I will not start now. I close my eyes. Ah, that's better. Now my eyes are at least not being scalded by the red hotness of the fire.
I force myself to let go. I let body go limp. I take the feeling of unfeeling and let it wash down my whole body. I push away the screams of the crowd, push away the pain of death; numb my self all over. I cannot see. I cannot hear. I cannot smell, cannot taste – cannot feel.
I cannot feel.
Ah, this is better.
Jane
Something's happening. What, I'm not quiet sure – but something's happening to the crowd. I thought I was imagining their screams. Now I'm not so sure. The crowd is still making a raucous noise, yes – but it's not pleasurable. It's frantic, fraught with panic and mayhem, and I hear running footsteps and screams and bangs.
Is this death? Is this what hell sounds like? I've never cared in the slightest where I go or what will happen when I die – but this sounds to sharp and too real for heaven or hell.
I open my eyes – and then I know I must be dead. Ah. What a pity. I am in hell. But then I suppose, heaven wouldn't quiet have suited me. My idea of heaven would be where my power was appreciated, accepted, admired. And I doubted heaven was a place that would accept what I enjoyed so very much to do.
Suddenly, I feel something cold and wet tossed over me. I open my eyes again, briefly, and hear a yell.
"Get the girl! And the boy – both! GO!"
And a mere second after the shout, I feel hands – cold, icy hands – around me. Demons? Are they this cold?
"What…you…" I try to speak but my voice is a cracked whisper.
"It's ok, kid, come on, lets get you out of here."
I hear a rip and suddenly my ropes drop off me. I try to open my eyes but smoke clouds my vision. Where is the fire? I see something beside me – my brother! Alec is unconscious; his eyes closed, and burns covering every inch of his skin, black and crusted and terrible to see. He's being held by a tall, cloaked person – another demon? I thought they were supposed to be red…
My thoughts make no sense. Is hell always going to be this confusing? I'm vaguely aware of being pulled off the platform, down the steps, and laid on the ground. It's so cold after the flames. Everything's cold. The demon's hands are freezing as they touch the place where my heart should be beating, had I been alive.
"Oh no…"
The words are spoken softly, with hints of panic in them.
"Master!"
This time it's a shout, an urgent shout.
"Master, it needs to be done now, at once, or you're going to lose her! She's slipping away…"
I hear footsteps, marred by swishes – another cloak – coming to stand by me.
"Then we have no choice. We do it now."
"Do you need..?"
"Yes. Do her wrists, and elbows, I'll start higher up. As many as possible, and as quickly as possible. Go!"
The next moment was the moment I became certain I was in hell. Because nothing, nothing remotely human could possibly cause such pain. Hands were all over me; those icy hands, one set smooth as marble, the other colder and strangely brittle. I felt something slice though the charred skin of my wrists and the creases at my elbows. The same happened at my shoulders, my legs – and finally at my neck. I didn't have the strength to scream, but if I had, I would have. I would have so much.
Alec
Death takes an awfully long time. Far longer than I expected it to. I was so confused. I don't think I was really conscious anymore. I hadn't opened my eyes since the flames had begun to burn – and I still wasn't opening them now. But I had un-numbed my ears. I was hearing all kinds of things. Odd things. Screams and yells and running feet. Panicked voices to the right of me. They'd talked about someone – Jane? Then there had been moments of silence when I simply listened to the words the person bending over me was saying.
"Breath…come on, breath! Breath – Master! His heart!"
Then the silence had stopped from to the right of me, the other two voices talking again.
"Do you think that's enough?"
"Anymore, and we'll break a record. This is all we can do. Thank you, Demetri."
The voice bending over me was shouting again. "Master! Shall I do it?"
The footsteps moved again – sweeping towards me. "Is he breathing?"
"Just."
"Then, we have no alternative. His wrists and arms, Afton, and fast."
Maybe they are going to carry me to heaven, I thought vaguely. Or hell.
Going by what they did to me next, I'd say hell was most likely.
Jane
Pain. Pain, pain, pain. Hadn't I suffered enough?
You didn't suffer, remember? They suffered…
Of course, yes. I needed to stop thinking like this. It wasn't my pain, it was their pain.
But the pain I was feeling now couldn't be taken out on others. It was my pain, and no one else's – and it was caused by the demons of hell.
Would my life – my death – continue like this forevermore?
Alec
Pain. Pain, pain, pain. Hadn't I suffered enough?
You didn't suffer, remember? You couldn't feel the pain. You were numb.
Of course, yes. I had to stop thinking like this, remembering the pain. It wasn't pain, because I had numbed it till I was entirely unfeeling.
But the pain I was feeling now couldn't be numbed. It was my pain, and no one else's – and it was caused by the cloaked people who, I was almost certain, were demons of hell.
Would my life – my death – continue like this forevermore?
Jane
I'd lost track of time, when the flames of hell began to fade. I had no sense of time. I was dead, and damned to hell, was all I knew...
Alec
The fire began to trickle ever so slightly less from the tips of my fingers. I was dead, and in hell and time made no sense anymore. Neither did anything else…
Jane
It faded from my wrists…
Alec
It faded from my arms…
Jane
Voices. Smooth, perfect talking…
Alec
"Demetri, the time?"
"Three minutes to midnight, Master."
Jane
Master. This master master master. Who was he? The devil? He wasn't acting like any devil I'd ever imagined…
Alec
An odd thing was – how could my heart beat if I was in hell? It was different; fluttering and stuttering like it was struggling to stay beating – but most definitely still in my chest. Why…?
Jane
The pain faded up my legs…
Alec
Across my hips…
Jane
Over my chest…
Alec
Up my neck…
Jane
Oh, my heart. It felt like a hummingbird's wings…
Alec
My heart…my heart....
Jane
The pain faded across my cheeks, and over my forehead…
Alec
Thump thump thump thump thump…
Jane
And then…
Alec
…oh…
Jane
...My heart stopped…
Alec
…My heart stopped…
Jane
…The pain ended…
Alec
…The pain ended…
Alec and Jane
And I opened my bright red, newborn vampire eyes.
Loved writing this. Love, love, loved it.
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