The following is a work of fiction. Any similarity to people real or imaginary is strictly coincidence. The Twilight Franchise and Robert Pattinson are the intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer and I claim no ownership, real or otherwise. Any events in the story that appear to mirror reality are all happenstance.
"AGHHHH!"
The door to the house slammed shut, shaking loose the number 1 from its address.
"I can't take this anymore!"
A series of fast thudding footsteps charged up the staircase, propelling the young man into his bedroom.
"Where is that thing? Where is that damnable thing?"
With frantic clawing motions, his hands slashed at the objects stowed under his bed. Armani shoes and small boxes of childhood memorabilia flew throughout the room, striking the walls and breaking a bedside lamp. After several minutes of passionate destruction, everything went briefly silent.
"Here you are." Robert Pattinson emerged from underneath his queen-sized bed, holding a small, narrow box to his chest.
He pulled open the intricately decorated lid of the forest green box and his hearty eyebrows knitted together in anger.
"This is your fault." He seethed.
Then he sighed in defeat and slumped against the bed, knowing it was really his fault. He should have paid more attention in high school English class. He gently lifted it from the box and gazed at it in sick fascination.
The black leathery skin, which ended at the wrist to reveal dry tendons and other unpleasant things, was pulled taught over brittle, twig-like bones. The natural light of his bedroom reflected dully off of the one blackened claw that had not curled itself up into a rueful fist. How could such a dried-out, delicate old monkey's paw have caused so much damage?
Robert Pattinson had started out as a talented actor lacking only publicity and exposure. He knew that if he were to be cast in the right movie, it would propel him into stardom and enable him to look after his dear family. He worked hard in Hollywood, California, auditioning for plays, commercials, musicals, and movies. Although he was selected for several performances, it was never in that perfect role that would be his bread and butter until he was old and grey. As he did every year, Robert Pattinson took holidays from his job as a short-order cook to go visit his family up in Montana for Christmas. However, one fateful year things went a little differently from his usual holiday.
He had been sleeping soundly on a Greyhound bus and awoke when the small, heavyset woman sitting beside him nudged him awake to use the bathroom. As she did her business, he looked out the window at the fresh snow that had just started falling. Most of the passengers, including himself, were unaware that the previous day had seen hours of sleet, or that the current snowfall was masking and aggravating the hazardous patches of black ice. As the bus was winding through a narrow mountain pass, a terrified moose suddenly lurched from the cover of the forest into the middle of the road. Although the driver did his best to avoid it, the terrible road conditions proved to be too much for his defensive driving and the bus fishtailed, struck the moose, and teetered dangerously over the edge of the pass. For a few breathless moments, the bus stayed suspended. Then, as the mountain winds picked up again, the bus groaned and lurched over the edge. Robert Pattinson felt his stomach lurch as they started falling. He was thrown along with everyone else against the far side of the bus as it slid down the hill. When the bus hit an outcropping of rock and started rolling, everyone's chances for survival disappeared. It was utter chaos as luggage, food, and people were tossed around the interior like kittens in a dryer. Hitting another outcropping and getting some air, the bus continued rotating and Robert Pattinson suddenly found that he had fallen through the currently empty window frame. He landed painfully on the uneven ground - broken, bloody and unable to move - as the bus finally slammed to a stop against an impressive pine tree a few dozen feet away. The engine caught fire and, other than the crackling flames, all was silent.
Shivering, immobile, and unaware of how much time had passed, Robert Pattinson vaguely became aware of slow, lurching footsteps crunching their way through the snow. He was too weak and disoriented to feel any sort of apprehension. The sound slowly got closer and closer, until a final two steps came to rest just by his head. The snow creaked as the feet twisted in place and the head atop a kneeling body came into view. Although his vision was swimming, he could make out the image of a man. He wore a heavy, baggy trench coat, had a thick wool scarf wrapped around his neck, and sported a heavy green toque. Most of his face was obscured with the exception of two burning and almost sinister eyes.
"You don't want to die, do you?" His voice rasped.
"No."
"Do you want me to give you something that can save you?"
"…Yes."
Robert Pattinson felt a dull sense of rage and panic when, instead of pulling out a cell phone, the man brought some kind of box out from he recesses of his trench coat. He put the box underneath Robert Pattinson's bloody hand over his heart, and then the man pressed it firmly in place. Without any other word, he retreated as noisily as he had come and left a dazed Robert Pattinson dying in the snow.
Please. He thought desperately to no one in particular. I don't want to die here.
There was a soft, scraping noise from within the box.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a strange room. Tubes and wires were attached to his body and hooked up to machines that he could not name. The walls were a sterile, white colour and the air smelled of disinfectant.
"There you are." A friendly voice noted.
He could see the smile before her face even came into focus. The nurse held a clipboard and was clearly in the middle of checking on the patients in the intensive care unit.
"Where am I?" He managed to get out in a hoarse croak.
"You were in an accident. Do you remember?" She prompted him like he was in a kindergarten school play.
He nodded slowly.
"Your bus crashed. You're the only one that survived and it's a miracle that anyone found you." She looked pensive and then continued. "An emergency vehicle was responding to a call about a hiker who had gone missing. Because they had to take a different route to make it up the mountain, they passed by where you had crashed and ended up taking you instead. You're very lucky!" She continued smiling. "They even took your box."
"What?" He dully became aware of a hard object next to his arm.
"What's inside?" It had clearly been burning in her mind all day.
"…A necklace…for my girlfriend."
"Ah, she's a very lucky girl! Doubly so that you're still here."
He closed his fingers around the box.
"Did…did they find the hiker?"
She paused, looking a bit uncertain, "They did…but, well, he had frozen to death just before they got to him."
"Oh."
She said nothing more and then left after encouraging him to get some rest beyond the three-day coma he'd been in. He knew what she hadn't said was that they would have found the hiker alive if they hadn't stopped to investigate the crash. He opened the box, and dropped it in revulsion. His heart pounded and he squirmed as a dry monkey's paw rolled to a stop in his lap, holding two fingers up.
Sitting on the floor of his bedroom, Robert Pattinson took his head from his hands and shook it. He had made his choices, and now the consequences were hitting him. If he could ride it out, he and his family would be set for life. He just had to endure it. Now used to the thing, he put the monkey's paw back into the green box without so much as a shudder at the dead, dry flesh. He slipped the box into the pocket of his jeans and stood up resolutely. Sure, things had started to get really weird – borderline frightening even – but he knew that if he could keep it together long enough, he would be able to succeed where story and adaptation had failed and be the one to finally best the monkey's paw. What were a couple of over-zealous fans? Sure it was terrifying that some valued him against the life of their children – like that one woman who had thrown her baby over a fence so that he could kiss it – but it had to be like a bell curve; they must only represent a small percentage of the average population.
Feeling more collected than before, he walked easily down the stairs and decided to fix himself a snack. Fleeing the mentally unbalanced gave him a hell of a workout and always left him feeling hungry.
He headed to the stainless steel fridge of his impressive, spic-and-span kitchen and retrieved a bottle of organic non-pasteurized milk. Setting it on his small wooden table, he went to the cupboard to retrieve his comfort food. In times of distress, he would always turn to the sweet, forgiving flavor of Shreddies™ cereal. As the popularity of the Twilight franchise had grown, he had been hitting the Shreddies™ pretty hard and he was secretly thankful that they were both low in fat and high in fibre. Setting the cheerful yellow box on the table, he grabbed a bowl from the dishware cupboard and turned around. He froze. A young woman was standing outside his locked patio door. She stood unsteadily on her feet, rocking side to side, and set her roving gaze on him. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then she started to make a sound. It started out as a low moan, but gradually rose in pitch and frequency as her fan hysteria kicked massive quantities of adrenaline into her system.
"UhhhhhhhOhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGoD OHMYGODOHMYGOD OHMYGOD! ROBERT PATTINSON! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S REALLY YOU!" She pounded her fists lovingly against the double paned glass. "I knew that my dreams wouldn't mislead me! I knew my angel of darkness would never abandon me to the horrors of being a beautiful genius who is constantly overlooked! I love you Edward! I know that I'm the one for you and not Bella!"
Robert Pattinson felt the twinge of his ulcer-to-be and dropped the cereal bowl to the floor, skittering back in alarm. His stomach was doing flips in anxiety. He had paid guards protecting his property 24/7 so that this kind of crap would never happen! The bowl he had dropped shattered, and as he skittered back he cut his foot on one of the pieces. Deep red blood began to ooze from the puncture and that only drove the unstable woman into more of a frenzy.
"BLOOD!" She shrieked, clearly excited beyond being rational. "I HAVE BLOOD FOR YOU! I HAVE BLOOD FOR YOU!" She slashed her palms with a crappy imitation Swiss Army Knife and red blood began to flow. "DRINK MY BLOOD, EDWARD! DRINK MY BLOOD!" She started screaming wildly at the top of her lungs, her wide, white eyes dotted with pinprick pupils. She began pounding violently against the glass, causing it to rattle and her bloody handprints to be left on the glass.
"Holy shit!" Robert Pattinson screamed and limped as fast as he could to the washroom.
Haphazardly winding gauze bandages around his foot, he quickly grabbed the key to his BMW and slipped his shoes on just as the glass to his patio window shattered.
"EDWAAAAAAAAARD!" The girl moaned, lurching through the door in search of her idol.
"Where the hell are my guards?" Robert Pattinson yelled in frustration, bolting out the front door.
He froze in sheer terror at the sight before him. The captain of his guards, Max Smith, was surrounded by six women ranging in age from tween to fifty. They held the Twilight novels in their hands and were followed by dozens of young women bearing poles that had Twilight posters attached like war banners.
"And that is why we will marry Edward!" The leader of the women explained.
As soon as the Twilight merchandise touched his hands, a strange look came over Max's face.
"That is persuasive and amazing." Max began, but finished by moaning, "Edwaaaaard." Again and again, incapable of saying anything more.
Robert Pattinson could see that his entire day shift of guards had, at the touch of Twilight Merchandise, been turned. They stood in that same curious, unstable way moaning "Edward" softly.
The assembled group of people turned as one to look at Robert Pattinson. Taking in his tall hair that was gelled to perfection, a collective shudder of recognition rippled through the group.
"Edward." Came the echoed whisper of disbelief.
Not allowing them the time to go completely apeshit like the girl at his patio window, he ran towards his car and slipped inside through the open window. As the horde shuffled in his direction, slowly gaining momentum, he managed to start the engine and shifted the car into reverse, breaking down his chain link fence. Once he was on the road, he was horrified to discover that it was dotted with people standing unsteadily on their feet and moaning quietly. They shuffled about as though they were searching for something.
Without a second thought, Robert Pattinson rolled up his windows, put on a dark pair of sunglasses, and floored it. There was only once place he could go now: home. He could hide in the mountains of Montana until this whole thing blew over.
Dodging people standing in the empty roads, he started down that familiar route.
For a while, he had tried to convince himself that it was only coincidence that the emergency response vehicles had found the bus crash, and that the paw was just some sick joke. And after a few months, he was able to believe that it had all been utter nonsense. It was the only way he could cover the feelings of guilt. If it really was the monkey's paw from the story, he had the life of another on his hands and that just wasn't something he wanted to live with. He had left the box on the bedside table in his apartment, too filled with revulsion to look inside it again and too afraid of the fallout should someone find it in his garbage.
Returning home later that evening, he had reached his breaking point for frustration. He was buried within many audition lists, but no one was calling him. His job as a short-order cook, while sustaining, was hardly fulfilling. It was tiring work and he was barely making ends meet. He was good at his job, but after a day of irate customers, complaints, and an unreasonable boss, he had had enough. Sighing, he sat down on the worn carpet and spread out the newspaper before him, scanning the classifieds. He took off his shoes and rubbed his aching feet, just wishing that a break would come.
It was then that a funny, unbidden thought entered his brain. He had quietly hidden that morbid curiosity for so long…why shouldn't he find out for sure? If he were to wish for something to help him using that monkey's paw, he would answer the question he had been fearing and avoiding. If it allowed him to survive an accident that should have been fatal, then surely it could give him an acting gig.
"But it can't be anything little, because that could happen on its own." He mused aloud. "It has to be so sensational that I'll know it isn't coincidence."
And for the first time in months, he took the box from the little table and held it in his hands. He felt his heart beat faster in anxiety, as he was not eager to touch the disgusting thing again. Still, it would give him peace of mind. It was too ridiculous! He'd find out it was just a piece of junk and then maybe pawn it or something.
He opened the lid and recoiled at the shriveled skin. It looked so eerily like a human's hand that he found it deeply unsettling. He steeled his courage and then lifted it from the box. Surprised again at its featherweight, he took little pleasure in the brittle, papery texture of the paw. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Okay…let's see if this works. I want that one gig to finally come in. I want to be a part of a franchise that balloons in popularity so that I don't have to worry about money for myself or my family again. I wish to be a famous, world-renown actor."
He peeked out of one eye and looked at the paw. Nothing had happened. He gave a sigh of relief.
"Just what I thought." He smiled at his own foolishness.
But then he felt a twitching run through the mummified hand and, with a startled cry, he dropped it and jumped onto his bed. Writhing on the ground, the paw began to curl its middle finger in irregular spasms. The cracking and creaking subsided and the thing lay still. He continued to look at it for several minutes afterward, feeling pins and needles all over his skin. It had been capable of MOVING on its own! And he had been sleeping next to it for months. The thought of it reaching out to touch him while he was asleep made him feel like-
The phone suddenly rang. He screamed, not doing his heart any favors that day. Shaking and feeling like it was going to explode out of his chest, he steadied himself over two more rings and then lifted up the receiver.
"Hello?" He tried to keep his voice level.
"Hello, is this Robert Pattinson?" A voice on the other end inquired.
"Speaking."
"I apologize for the late hour, but I'm calling on behalf of Studio X. You see, we're casting for a movie based on a monstrously popular teen vampire series and…well…the actor we had slated for the male lead has suddenly become…indisposed. We were impressed by your résumé and are arranging a new round of auditions and would love it if you would be able to come by sometime within the next few days."
"Not at all!" He felt his insides go cold, wondering what 'indisposed' could mean. "I would love to. What's the name of this series?" He figured he should try to read the books before auditioning.
"Twilight."
He had filled up his BMW with petrol and bought a trucker hat that hid his telltale hair from a sleepy, apathetic-looking man in an empty gas station. It was terrifying to him the number of wandering, dazed-looking people he had passed until he had finally reached the middle of nowhere. They moaned and shuffled about, looking for the nonexistent man that he had become. Whatever had afflicted them seemed not to have reached this far. Yet. He could only pray to God that it hadn't reached his family in Montana. He couldn't stand to see them gripped by that horrible animalistic mania.
As he neared the winding mountain pass that would take him home, he turned on the radio. A warning siren blared over his speakers, causing him to swerve slightly in surprise. Even turning up his massive woofers did nothing to cut that excruciating treble. Finally, a deep voice gave a rumbling announcement,
"This is an emergency broadcast of the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. Please stay tuned for further information."
After about thirty seconds more of this repeating message, the emergency message was abruptly cut short by some canned news bulletin music. A haggard-sounding man began to speak,
"Good afternoon to anyone out there who is listening. This is Doug Dubcyek with an emergency news report." The canned music stopped and Doug's tense announcement was accompanied by an even more tense silence.
"For those of you who are living in or near major city centres, you may already be aware of a highly contagious, virulent pandemic that is sweeping the nation. Symptoms of the infected include: difficulty maintaining balance, disruption of the speech centres of the brain, and a tendency to wander aimlessly about. Although initially believed to be transmitted by bacteria, scientists have now discovered that the plague is being spread via contact with merchandise from the wildly popular Twilight franchise. Residents are advised to remain indoors, avoid the infirm, and to avoid touching anything related to Twilight. People who resemble Robert Pattinson in any way are particularly at risk, as he seems to be the focus of the afflicted."
Robert Pattinson felt a lurch in his stomach. How could this be? How could the paw grant his wish like this? Popularity wasn't a disease!
"We will be repeating this broadcast and providing updates should we receive new information every ten minutes. This is Doug Dubcyek signing out…may God have mercy on our souls."
As the program returned to that hideous warning siren, Robert Pattinson turned the radio dial in hopes of finding another station that was still broadcasting. He was somewhat responsible for this – maybe if he found some useful information he could find a way to fix it. Spinning through the channels, he found only static until suddenly the static broke into a clear silence. He sat listening tensely to the radio, hearing only the sound of his engine revving as he continued up the mountain road.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by an eerie laugh. It started slowly and grew faster and louder, joined by more and more voices. He felt his body chill to the core as the horrifying laughter broke into disorganized, discordant cascades of shrill, laughing people. Too transfixed to do anything but drive, he listened for some time to that unnerving sound. Finally shaking off his reverie, he reached for the dial. Just as his fingers touched it, the laughter abruptly ceased and a clear, strong female voice spoke.
"We are liberated. We are free. Brothers and sisters, together we have cast off the shackles of federal servitude – a servitude that brought us neither fulfillment nor happiness – to reshape society in our own image in the shackles of consumerism!" There was a raucous cheering in response. "No longer shall we function as a separate, disjointed, atomistic entity. From this day forth, we shall become a coordinated machine!" There was another round of cheering.
"What the hell is this?" He breathed in horror.
Was it some kind of joke? A history program on Communism? Because there was no way something like this could be broadcast in the United States of America.
"Feminists?" He mused.
"And now I turn the floor over to our brother for an update on our progress." The female voice finished to even wilder cheering from thousands of voices.
Just where were they broadcasting from?
"Greetings my Twildren." A softer, tenor voice began. "As you are well aware, we are progressing. The Enlightenment is spreading and as our numbers grow, our voices grow clearer and stronger as our collective minds contribute their power. However, our power is incomplete and our society has not yet come to fruition."
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Robert Pattinson felt his heart beat faster and faster at the suggestive and terrifying words that were being thrown at him.
His heart all but stopped at what was said next.
"We still have not found Robert Pattinson, our Edward, the centre of our existence. The Edwardian consorts, who appear to us as though Edward himself had come, have been relocated to the breeding centre in Washington DC. However, without Edward to lead us and to be our primary consort, our breeding stock will be weak and our people will be dispirited."
Robert Pattinson began to panic, his heart beating faster and faster and his breaths coming shorter and shorter. His head began to spin, but he feared pulling to the side of the road and being discovered while vulnerable. He tried to take calm, steadying breaths and to focus on reaching his destination.
"We must redouble our efforts. We must find Edward and bring him to DC in order to begin the world anew."
It was late in the evening before Robert Pattinson pulled up to the humble Montana mountain house he had been raised in, screeching to an erratic halt on the gravel. Looking left and right in paranoia and fighting to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest, he suddenly flung the car door open and sprinted to the house, not even bothering to close the car door. Fumbling with his keys and after a few scraping attempts, he managed to unlock the front door. He slammed it shut behind him and locked it, throwing all the deadbolts that it possessed.
"Sweetie?" An alarmed and confused voice asked in caution as halting footsteps came down the stairs. "Is that really you?"
The house was dark, as everyone had gone to bed, but Robert Pattinson recognized the voice of his mother.
"Mom!" His voice had sounded more frightened than he had intended it to.
His mother skittered the rest of the way down the stairs and pulled him into a deep, comforting hug.
"It's okay. You're okay now. You're safe at home with your family." She patted his back.
"Is everyone alright? Where's Dad? Where's the kids?" His questions poured out in rapid succession.
"Everyone's okay. Your father, brothers and sisters are sleeping. What's going on?" Although he couldn't see her face, he could hear the concern in her voice.
"Didn't you hear? There's some kind of disease spreading throughout the country! We've got to barricade the house to protect ourselves in case they find us!" Robert Pattinson started to pull away from his mother, thinking to find some loose wood to board up the doors and windows with.
"It's okay," she put her palms on both of his cheeks and made him look at her although he still couldn't see her face, "it's okay. Look, look at me. You need to calm down. I'll go get the family and we'll talk about it and decide what to do. You're safe here, so just calm down so that you can think clearly."
At his mother's calming voice, he felt himself relax. As his eyes were beginning to adjust to the gloom, he could make out her familiar shape.
"You're right." He sighed. He gave her another hug. "It's good to be home." He looked at her again. "Did you grow your hair out?" He squinted in the darkness.
"Yeah. You like it?" He could hear the smile in her voice.
"It looks good…from what I can see." He laughed, further calming his nerves.
"Oh, you're such a brat!" She gave his arm a light punch. "I'll go get the family. You go sit in the den and take a moment. We'll be there soon." She went back up the stairs.
Robert Pattinson stumbled through the darkness, feeling his way along the wall, and finally made it to the den. He had had such a stressful couple of days with little sleep and even less to eat and, in this state, he found the darkness oddly soothing. He sank into the leather couch with a deep sigh and leaned his head back against the headrest. He had made it. There had been moments, but he had made it.
He half-listened to the sound of footsteps upstairs as his mother woke up the rest of the family. Feeling much more balanced, he looked around as he waited for his eyes to completely adjust. Not a lot had changed about the den. The furniture seemed to be in the same place and the same old TV sat atop an old bureau. The only change seemed to be to the walls. It looked like his father, ever the movie buff, had put up some new framed posters. He chuckled. No doubt "The Godfather".
It was when he heard an excited whisper of, "He's here," and the sound of a cell phone flipping shut that he began to feel a twinge of unease. As hard as he wanted to let it be, he started to feel like something wasn't right. Why were they taking so long? Why were they assembling to come down together? As his heart began to beat louder again, he slowly stood up from the couch with a creak of leather. Shuffling across the floor, he reached the dimmer switch just as he heard the footsteps of his family coming down the stairs. He had only turned up the light a little when he heard the voice of his father,
"Son!" He held his arms open for an embrace.
It was then that Robert Pattinson was finally able to see everything around him. The movie posters were all replaced with Twilight posters, figurines lined the mantle and shelves, and Twilight blankets were draped over the couch. All movies had been replaced with Twilight DVDs.
He turned to face his family and he recoiled in horror, taking a few quick steps backward. He gasped, barely able to take it all in as his mind tried to wrap itself around the grotesque spectacle before him.
His mother had grown her hair longer and dyed it dark brown. His father's hair had been dyed platinum. The twins Nicholas and Chloe were now blond, his elder sister Karen was a short-haired brunette, and his second-youngest brother Jason sported a crew cut.
"Welcome home, Edward." His father intoned ominously, a strange smile on his face.
They started to approach him slowly, his father leading with his arms outstretched for a hug.
"Where's Tobias?" Robert Pattinson felt himself shaking visibly.
He slowly backed away, trying to circle around them.
"Where is Tobias?" He asked, more insistently.
"Who?"
"TOBIAS! Tobias my baby brother!" He shouted, unintended spittle flying from his twisted mouth.
"Ah, the extra." Karen, who was now Alice, smiled fondly.
"Extra?"
"He was redundant." Chloe, now Rosalie, said with an uncharacteristic coldness.
"He sacrificed himself." Jason, now Emmett, smiled in admiration.
"He was redundant." Nicholas, now Jasper, repeated with a dark smile.
"We loved him, but if we were to be the Cullen Royal Family, one of us could not belong. He sacrificed himself for The Vision." His mother who, to his horror was now Esmee, explained with unearthly calm.
"You stay away from me!" Robert Pattinson watched them tensely, back hunched like a cornered animal.
Though he tried, he knew that it would be impossible to circle around them as they began to surround him. They backed him into a corner and he knew there was only one option left.
"You know," he began, "when I asked you about wishes as a child, Mom, you told me something. I still remember it." They continued to press in on him and he took the paw out of its box. "The first is a fluke, the second is a test and the third," he shook the monkey's paw, as though gesturing with it, "the third is to take it back."
He suddenly made a mad dash to push through his family's advancing line. As he tried to jump through the outstretched arms of Rosalie and his father, they caught him around the middle. His heart skipped a beat as he fumbled and almost dropped the paw. Catching it in mid-air, he held tightly in both hands as his father picked him up around the middle in an attempt to pull him back into the den. He struggled.
"I wish this never happened." He was trembling both with adrenaline and the intensity with which he was wishing. "I wish that none of this had ever happened!"
He didn't get a chance to see if he was successful. As his father gave a mighty pull, the paw flew from his hands and he fell backward. He tried to get back on his feet to sprint to the paw and make the wish again, but Jasper swung and caught him in the side of the head with a heavy plastic bust of Edward Cullen. Everything went black.
Robert Pattinson lay on his back, feeling disoriented and looking skyward into the face of the man in the green toque. The man's eyes that were once sinister and shining with excitement were now dark and bitter with disappointment. The feeling returning to his body, Robert Pattinson became aware of the blood trickling down the side of his face as the snow piled up around him in the harsh winter wind. To his surprise, he felt that the monkey's paw itself was in his own two hands and not in the green box. Running his fingers over it one last time, he could feel that all of its fingers were now curled into a fist. He gave a short, pained laugh. The sinister figure seemed to smile and gently retrieved the monkey's paw from Robert Pattinson's chest.
"Sorry, kid." He rasped. "Better luck next time."
The snow creaked again as the man stood and his receding footsteps echoed through the mountain until they faded away entirely. Robert Pattinson, feeling the pain in his body begin to dull, heard the sound of sirens approaching. They passed.
He listened to the sound of the wind sometime after that until he closed his eyes, a mournful smile on his face.