Disclaimer: this is fan fiction, based on the well known Twilight series, I didn't write the original, just this.

We don't hunt too close together. Even when we say that we're hunting together, that doesn't mean we run through the forest, hand in hand, then settle down to share a nice big elk.

Of course, there are plenty of times when it is nice to run together, even - sometimes, cheesily - hand in hand. There are plenty of things to do in the forest together, plenty of times when it feels good to be close. It's just that hunting isn't one of those times.

When a vampire is hunting, their instincts take over, they are more animal than human. They do not play nice. We do not play nice. We hunt alone because there's a risk that, if we hunted too near each other, we'd end up hunting each other. I couldn't eat another vampire, of course, but, when I hunt, another vampire becomes competition, and that is intolerable.

I was hunting alone, then, not because there was anything wrong, nor because anyone had made a mistake, but because I always hunt alone.

So, I was alone when I caught the scent. The delicious, enticing scent.

I didn't know what it was at first. I wasn't hunting humans, not in my mind.

But, then, nor was I hunting any kind of animal.

At that moment, alone in the woods, with no competition, I was hunting only the blood. It smelt delicious, perfect, rich. I didn't confuse the scent with any familiar quarry. I didn't stop to consider what creature held that delicious blood. I didn't think about any living thing at all. I was thinking about blood, mouthwatering blood.

And, since I was alone, with no rivals to beat me in the race, I reached the blood and I drank it. I drank it all. And it was amazing. It was delightful. It was life and joy and so deeply satisfying. I had never felt so sated.

Then, I sensed someone else coming, running full pelt towards me, swearing loudly.

"Stop saying it's too late." He was crashing through the undergrowth towards me, talking to someone else, as he ran. "What do you think is achieved by saying that? . . . I can see her. . . . Hell. It's too late. . . Yes, I do realise that's precisely what you've been saying . . . Oh, shut up. "

The vampire was behind me then, but I didn't mind. He couldn't do anything. I'd had it all. All the blood was in me, there was only an empty body at my feet.

Only an empty dead man at my feet. There was still a look of horror frozen on his face. He was wearing a blue shirt.

Suddenly, I was a person again, and I could see what I'd done. I was Bella Cullen and I'd just killed a man.

I screamed.

He'd been alive, only a few moments ago. He had a family, a life. I'd attacked him. I'd been the awful monster in the woods that nobody quite believes in. I'd destroyed him. I was a murderer. Worse than a murderer, I was an evil monster. I'd killed a man, drank his blood, and I'd loved it.

It couldn't help anyone, it couldn't make me more human, but I couldn't stop myself. I stood in the forest, next to the body of my victim, and screamed.

Then Edward's hands were around me, pulling me into a tight embrace, and he was whispering, "Bella, my love, I'm so sorry. I ran and ran, and I'm usually so fast, but I wasn't fast enough. By the time Alice saw that the plane was coming down, it was too late, I couldn't reach you in time. Oh, Bella, I did this to you. I'm so sorry."

I pulled away to look into his eyes, those tortured eyes. He hated himself for what he was and for what he'd made me. I was a murderer and he blamed himself because without him I would never have become a vampire.

There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to comfort him, and to reassure him that he was still loved, still and always passionately loved. There was nothing for him to apologise for. There was no reason for that haunted look in his eyes, that look of terror that told me he was afraid I was going to leave him. I wanted to tell him that it was alright, he was safe in my love, I would never, could never, hate him. I wanted to confront him too; to yell at him for hating us both so much. I wanted to scream at him for daring to regret our love. How could he say that he was sorry for living me, sorry for changing me, sorry that we were together?

But, all my mouth actually said was "what plane?"

He grimaced, "come on, Bella," he said softly, "come this way. Jasper will be here in a few minutes and he'll . . . um . . . clean up."

"No," I started to say, "I should. I can't make Jasper do that."

Edward gave a grim smile, "actually, Jasper thinks it's about time he was put on clean-up duty, his turn is rather overdue. Come on, love, come home."

Of course, I'd 'slipped'. It had happened to the Cullen's before. It had happened to Jasper a few times, I knew that. I'd heard the stories. I'd never thought that I was immune, of course not. But, I'd never really thought about what it would be like, either. For Edward this was business as usual, I suppose.

It was only new for me. For me and that poor man.

Edward tugged on my hand, saying more things in his soft, loving voice. I didn't listen to him. I couldn't bear to hear him say anything kind to me right then, but I knew that he would want to.

I let him lead me home.