A/N: Please forgive the shortness of the preface. I know it's atrociously small.
Full Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable from canon, which belongs to Mrs. Stephenie Meyer. I gain no profit or benefit from this story but the joy of writing it.
Preface
Fine, I was dumb to think I could steal from Heaven without any backlash, but I'd hoped I'd get away with it for a little longer.
Shaking, sobbing, shivering at the mercy of the monster in front of me, it would have been easy to wish nothing had ever happened. Normal, natural. But I couldn't. Don't ask me why- I don't think even God knows that- but I couldn't regret him and me, me and him, any more than being born. I regretted nothing. I took nothing back. And I guess that made me a moron.
But what difference would it have made, anyway? My knees sank in the dirt. The woman's nails sank into my shoulder, holding me down. Her faces distorted by the firelight, the she-devil smiled at me, an apologetic twist of the lip as though it was meant to help that this was nothing personal. It didn't. Controlling themselves, that might have helped. Or having a damn thought about anyone else. Then they wouldn't have needed my blood, or the blood of Jane Emily Jones.
And since that was out of the question, I would have to do.
The first drop of blood shattered against the dirt- the first of many. Too many. Would dying hurt so much? Or would it be a different sort of pain? Would it be better than what was about to happen? Could it possibly be worse? As the flames crackled behind me, snickering at my frightened face as they waited to be fed, I couldn't imagine it.
Without a word, the beast's blade bit into me, not hearing or caring about my sobs.
Oh God oh God oh G-