Hey! This is my second fanfic, and tell me if you want me to write more. If you don't review, I'll take that as a no. This is a different ending to the night in Port Angeles, in Twilight. Please tell me what you think!

Oh! I also used the first paragraphs or so from the book, and the lines, so if they sound familiar, they are. I'm telling you they are not mine, they are Stephenie Meyer's, so don't sue me!

Disclaimer, continued: I sadly don't own Twilight, or any of the lines from it.

Jess and Angela were going to take their clothes back to the car and then walk down to the bay

I meandered through the streets, which were filling up with end-of-the-workday traffic, and hoped I was headed toward downtown. I wasn't paying as much attention as I should to where I was going; I was wrestling with despair. I was trying so hard not to think about him, and what Angela had said . . . and more than anything trying to beat down my hopes for Saturday, fearing a disappointment more painful then the rest, when I looked up to see someone's silver Volvo parked along the street and it all came crashing down on me. Stupid, unreliable vampire, I thought to myself.

I stomped along in a southerly direction, toward some glass-fronted shops that looked promising. But when I got there, they were just a repair shop and a vacant space. I still had too much time to go looking for Jess and Angela yet, and I definitely needed to get my mood in hand before I met back up with them, I ran my fingers through my hair a couple of times and took some deep breaths before I continued around the corner.

I started to realize, as I crossed another road, that I was going the wrong direction. The little foot traffic I had seen was going north and it looked like buildings here were mostly warehouses. I decided to turn east at the next corner, and then loop around after a few blocks and try my luck on a different street on my way back to the boardwalk.

A group of four men turned around the corner I was heading for, dressed too casually to be heading home from the office, but they were too grimy to be tourists. Through the grime, I could tell they were all good looking, but not anywhere near as good looking as him. As they approached me, I realized they weren't too many years older than I was. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing smoothly and punching each other's arms what seemed to be a little too hard. I scooted as far to the inside of the sidewalk as I could to give them room, walking swiftly, looking past them at the corner.

"Hey there!" one of them called as they passed, and he had to be talking to me since no one else was around. His voice was velvety and eager. I glanced up automatically. Two of them had paused, the other two were slowing. The closest, a lean, dark-haired man in his early twenties, seemed to be the one who had spoken. He was wearing a flannel shirt open over a dirty t-shirt, cut off jeans, and sandals. He took half a step toward me.

"Hello," I mumbled, a knee-jerk reaction. Then I quickly looked away and walked faster toward the corner. I cold hear them laughing at full volume behind me.

"Hey, wait!" one of them called after me again, but I kept my head down and rounded the corner with a sigh of relief. I could still hear them chortling behind me.

I found myself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several somber-colored warehouses, each with large bay doors for unloading trucks padlocked for the night. There was no sidewalk on this street, so I walked along the road. I was far from where I was meant to be, as a person not from Port Angeles.

The sky was getting darker, and I heard the noise of an engine behind me. I turned to see who would need to drive down this street at night. It was a simple van, and as the wind of it passed, I realized that I had forgotten my jacket in Jess's car.

Then it got darker yet again, and I turned to glare at the sinking sun, which was barely visible behind the clouds. I realized that two men were walking silently about twenty feet behind me. They were from the same group as before. I turned back around swiftly, and walked faster.

I stumbled. I hurried past the next building, only a reflection showing the men steadily catching up to me. They walked gracefully and kept their faces forward, towards me.

I rounded a much-needed corner, and noticed a street with some traffic up ahead. There were people on the sidewalks again. As I got closer to the people on this road, I recognized them. Not in the good way. They were the other two guys from the group before. I turned my head only to see the men behind me closer than before.

"There you are!" My head spun back forward. The man who had spoken before had done so. But this time they weren't looking at me. Not directly, at least.

"Yeah," replied the man from behind me. His voice made me jump. "We just took a little detour."

I prepared myself to scream, but there wasn't enough oxygen in the air. My throat became dry, too dry to speak, much less scream. Noticing one of them coming towards me, I took all my strength and put it into one measly sentence, "Stay away from me."

It sounded scared and weak, coming out very quietly.

"Don't be like that, sugar," he called and before I knew it he was at my side, carrying me back through the deserted streets. But this wasn't like anything before. He was going too fast for anything on Earth. He was like a bullet, like a ghost. His arms were ice cold, and rock hard.

I closed my eyes, afraid for what might happen if I fainted in the presence of this man.

He reminded me of him. Edward. This man did not look like Edward or the rest of the Cullens, but he was just as fast, and just as cold.

Could he be a vampire?

But he wasn't as pale, as good looking, as well mannered. Suddenly the wind came to a stop and I was dropped ungracefully onto the ground, and we were in the forest, maybe a couple of miles from Port Angeles. The rest of the guys had come too. Are they all related to the Cullens?

Now, they spoke in hushed whispers, too fast for me to understand. The man who carried me seemed angry; were they arguing? I looked at the ground; I wasn't quite over my queasiness yet.

When they stopped talking, I looked up to see four much more handsome looking men in their early twenties. Their eyes were a dark red, almost black. They looked into my eyes, and then one lunged at me. He picked me up, and ran. After a minute or so, there was a sharp pain in my neck, and there was nothing else in the world other than the pain. I felt myself weaken, and with my last breath, I called out, "Edward!"

I heard a fight going on around me, though it seemed so far away from what I was now. I heard a vaguely familiar voice say my name, but I couldn't respond. I just lay limp in the grass, overcome with pain. Someone picked me up, and the wind started once again.

The person was more determined than before. Before fifteen minutes of running had passed, I had fallen into a painful blackness.

Well, how did you like it?

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