Author's note: Hello, dear reader. I just had an interesting question. Did they mention in the books or in the films who was Carlisle's creator? I don't think so. That's why I'm bringing here my own version of who was really Carlisle's sire. I dearly hope you like it. After this, I'll continue writing my other fic, "The cursed ones", which will hopefully make you fall in love with it! Just for the record, nothing in this story, except the main character and her coven, is mine. Everything else belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Matta nee!
Every minute since she woke up at home with her family dead, Neave had wondered why did Mother Nature punished her like she did. She had always been a good girl, even when she was not so good. She helped her mum and dad, and played with her little sister. And when her mum returned early to Mother Nature Neave was strong. She didn't understand at the time, but she did some time after.
When she was fifteen she was married off to the village farmer. He was a sweetheart with her, caring for her, loving her, giving her the most precious gift ever given to a woman: a baby. She loved her baby dearly. More so than her own life. His name was Cynan, and he was a cute baby boy. Neave was so grateful to Mother Nature for gifting her with such joy she couldn't help to smile every time, even at night when her baby wouldn't let her sleep.
"Neave, I don't think I say it to you enough times but I love you, my wife" Her husband usually said these words to Neave whenever she managed to do something that pleased him, which would occur quite a lot. There was one time, when little Cynan was being put to sleep, when Neave was startled by the arms of her husband around her waist. She felt his dry lips on the skin of her neck, lightly tanned by the sunlight.
"Neave, darling, tonight you are shinning. It would be my pleasure if you came with be to bed tonight."
Her husband was not a young man. Actually, he was at least twenty years older than her, he was above the average of dying ages. Because of this difference they shared the master room but slept in different beds. It was rare for them to be involved in sexual intercourse -they only slept once, in their wedding night just to discover two weeks after that Neave was with child. But, well, she didn't mind it really.
"Wait me there, I'll be ready in ten minutes."
"That's my darling."
Neave smiled shyly, finished tucking in Cynan and closed his bedroom door to walk to her own, to her awaiting husband. She found him completely naked, laid out on the bed and looking at her with hungry eyes. She took out her own clothes and folded them neatly on the wicker chair before joining him on the bed.
One day, when she was in the kitchen preparing the meal for his husband he came earlier. One thing she discovered about him was that he was terrified of death. He couldn't stand it. He said to her one time, after they had yet again consummated their love, that he would find a way to spare their family the tragedy of deceasing. She was still unsure about it, but she would indulge his husband because of love.
What happened that day was the start of the end. Neave's husband proclaimed to have found the way of immortality; he said they would have to do a kind of ritual at night to achieve the power to defeat death. With no possibility of opposing her husband, the naïve Neave smiled and nodded, happy for him. She brought her baby son to his bed earlier than other days, shushing him and cooing him until he was deeply asleep. Once her baby was calm and sleeping, she went back to her husband's and her bedroom. There was a strange circle around the bed, with multiple sacrifices, such as dead animals of different size and eating habits -Did she see a human corpse? -, and blood. Lots and lots of blood that made her dizzy with nausea. But she stood and lied on the bed without any clothes on, completely bare to her already painted husband, who gently marked her body with the same symbols.
The ritual was something really painful. Her whole body felt as if it was on fire, outside and inside. Her blood coiled horribly and her own brain could have exploded for all she cared. She couldn't even scream. And, after three agonic days, she couldn't feel her beating heart. She could only think about how thirsty she was. And she screamed with rage once she realized her husband had turned her in a demon, a monster that had killed her son in a furious attack of thirst. Her eyes were bloody red. Her skin as pale as the snow, and she was incredibly thirsty. She, along with her husband, killed in cold blood their own city, and once they were done with every single soul they ran away. She couldn't abandon her husband because of the marriage between them, but her heart felt cold and dead, and not only in the literal sense.
Decade after decade time ran and with it, them. Neave felt horrible each time she killed someone to drink their blood, and she couldn't for the life of her not watch her husband as someone evil, revolting and despising. Years and years passed by without so much as a blink of eyes, until they decided to abandon their country to go to Great Britain. The year was around 1650, give or take one or two years. Neave and her husband had recruited a coven of creatures like themselves, their children. Her husband turned them all except one girl named Rose. She was a French "witch" that had been almost drowned in the river when Neave had been hunting. She saw the desperation and felt the pain of the little girl and decided to spare her of the Death. She turned Rose and cared for her the hole three days, waiting for the blonde girl to completely turn. Once the turning time had ended and Rose accepted her new life the two women had reunited with the rest of the coven. Neave's husband had not been entirely content with the fact that Rose was Neave's child but he accepted her nonetheless before crossing the sea in order to arrive to Great Britain.
It was not something strange to see a married couple of an old man and a young woman. Thus, Neave and her husband told everyone they encountered they were a married couple. Also, their children pretended to be their brothers, and Rose posed as one of Neave's husband's children's wife. Life, or rather unlife, was not something easy during those years. They were easily discovered by the son of the pastor Cullen, a 23 years old blond boy with blue eyes that went by the name of Carlisle. Neave thought he was really smart and compassionate. She knew about the young lad of the pastor, the kind hearted boy who would always help those who needed it regardless of their position in society. It did not matter whether they were peasants or lords. He was always the good Samaritan, like Christians said.
She had the pleasure of meeting him once, when he was almost fifteen years old. Her coven had just arrived a few weeks and she thought it might be prudent to get to know their new "home".
As she was walking down the streets of the rainy London she walked in front of a little, modest church. It was painted in white with blue shades and gave a warm feeling whenever you looked at it. Many cultures depicted her kind as children of the Devil himself so it was impossible for them to enter a sacred place. Oh, how right they were, and also how wrong. While it could be agreeable that they were cursed and could pass for demons, they could touch and enter the sacred things and places just fine. Neave often questioned why she had been punished. Because there was no way eternal youth and life by the price of human torture could be seen as a blessing. Her husband was completely mad.
"Excuse me, my lady?"
The voice of a young took her by surprise, exiting her from her internal musings. She blinked three times to pretend she did not see the child the first time and to accommodate her actions to pretend to be human. He was a cute little thing, just as her little Cynan had been so many centuries ago. Her chest ached the moment her mind was plagued with distant memories of her dead baby boy. He had been the first one to pay the price of her immortality.
"May I help you with something?"
Neave smiled. The young boy was incredibly polite, with his wide open eyes that screamed purity and his angel-like appearance.
"Sorry, dear, I was just passing by when I saw this beautiful place and I had to stop to be able to stare at such a beauty in this city. I'm Neave Camshron, my family have recently arrived from far away." She lied smoothly about her last name. She had never had one, and she had been inventing new ones to wherever they went. In this town, she and her family had opted for the Celtic one, in honour to her and her husband's orignins.
"I see. I'm the pastor's son, Carlisle Cullen. If you need anything, please feel free of coming to the house of God to seek help. We will be always there to help in everything we can. Have a good day, my lady."
"Thank you for your generous words. I'll make sure to remember them by heart. Have a nice day you too, young Cullen."
"Oh, please my lady, call me Carlisle. I'm too young to be called like my father just yet." His smile, cordial and ever polite and warm, made her return it with fondness and happiness. This child had managed to gift her with optimism in a way no one had ever achieved in her immortal life. Not even her lovely Rose, with her mannerisms and her docile and shy conduct.
The problem of their imminent death did not bode well with her husband and so Neave was completely unprepared for what the man did to the young Cullen. When they were discovered the humans had been ready to hunt them. They run away as fast as they could but her husband remained, just to wait for Carlisle.
He tortured him, made him suffer in so many terrific ways and made him cry and scream even after his voice could no longer be heard to even the vampire hearing. She felt nauseated by her husband's actions and the worst part was that he knew! He was a manipulative immortal that had let power consume his soul. He was no longer her husband, he ceased to possess that power over her the moment he made her this monster. She could not condone those actions and, in a rush of bravado, she stepped between them and stopped a punch that was going directly to human's chest.
"Stop! For Mother Nature's sake, please, stop this madness!"
"Silence!"
The almost lifeless body of the young man known as Carlisle Cullen fell to the ground in a silent groan. Neave's tearless eyes were fixed on her husband malevolent ones. That ignited something within her cold body. Her jaw pressed strongly, marking her facial bones; her lips when back, showing her teeth and fangs with threatening intentions. Her whole body was tense and the air was charged with palpable tension.
"I have loved you till the first day we were reunited. I have devoted my heart and my honour and my whole body and soul to you, I have given you a son and I have let you kill him. I have let you kill me and turn me in this creature, in this blood sucker, and I have followed you in your desire to know the world that this immortality have let you know. I have killed to survive and stay by your side like the gentle, lovely wife I was always supposed to be. I have let you bed me over and over again with these cold and strong bodies. I have let you run free, with no restrictions, to enjoy the unlife you have brought upon us. I have permitted you a lot of things, but this I cannot! You are a sadist, a cruel monster with no capability of love. You are not my husband. You are not worthy of this eternity."
While saying this, Neave had approached the man she called her husband and had found a place between his arms. She hugged him fiercely, not letting his strength defeat her resolution. He was speechless, that she could see, and suddenly her insides felt warm. Her fury and her rage manifested in pure seconds of fire. It burned her husb- ex-husband's body and reduced him to a pile of ashes. It was not a very long moment but, for her, it felt like every second of their immortality together had been buried with his ashes. He was no longer in this world. He probably was in Hell, burning forever for his sins.
"Mother?"
Rose's voice sounded worried, and that was the anchor Neave needed to come back from her thoughts. She could see the shocked and unsure expressions of her ex-husband's children along with Rose's worrying over the body of the blond human. Neave acted on pure instinct. Her movements were as gracious as an angel's and her speed was even faster than they had ever watched. In a matter of two seconds Neave's fangs had found place in Carlisle's neck and the venom poured into his veins with ferocity and pain. Neave cradled his body into her cold arms and looked down at him with pain and fondness in her red eyes.
"Whatever you want to do from now on is no longer my business. You can go wherever you want to; with whoever you want to. You may be responsible for your actions since this moment."
The silence between them was deafening. After some seconds, all but one of them had remained with Neave. She smiled, caressing fondly Carlisle's sweaty face. She hid him within the darkness of the sewers, and with a voiceless farewell, her coven was gone from Great Britain. She hoped Carlisle could forgive her in the future. She would not affect his decisions once he woke up.
After the incident in London, Neave had walked around the world hidden in the shadows. Her coven had decided, after long years, to disintegrate itself. She did nothing to stop them. She was happy to find some centuries later that Rose had found her mate. A white-haired, green-eyed human that had been saved from death by Rose. His name, Neave learned, was Pierre. Neave's intention was to spy without being discovered, for she didn't want to intrude someone else's happiness when she had none. She had been alone since her turning, and more so after she killed her husband. She knew she had a gift; she could set herself on fire whenever her rage overwhelmed her. It was a dangerous gift. It was because of her gift and what she had done with it that she had been given the title as The Vampire Reaper. Everyone feared her, even if she was just a legend between her race. But she knew people, human or vampire, were quite cruel when they wished and could harm anyone who was remotely related to her. Thus, without so much as a backward glance, Neave parted farther and farther away from her child, once again, and her mate.
She continued to travel to different places, to know new landscapes and to run away from every creature that existed. She had given up human blood fifty years after she turned the Cullen child and, since then, she had found a ravenous appetite for grizzly bear's blood. It was really tasty for her. Because of this newfound discovery, Neave decided to rest some time in America.
Her life the last thirty or so years had been more or less calm. No one knew she was there, even the Volturi thought she was hiding somewhere deep inside the Siberian lands. Ha, what a triad of fools. If she so wished they would be ended before they could feel her. But she had neglected her sadistic nature so many centuries already that she could subdue it effortlessly. She had been hearing recently about the Olympic Coven composed by their sire Carlisle Cullen, his mate Esme, and his children Edward, Rosalie and Emmett, along with Alice and Jasper Whitlock. The first time Neave had heard about her child and his family… to say she had been tremendously happy had been an understatement.
Because of her happiness and her enthusiasm, she found herself one cold February morning in the modest Forks. It was a very beautiful place, if one knew where to look for. She directed her steps to the hospital right away. she wanted to be able to get a glimpse to her child. The moment she stepped inside the reception, a hard body collided with hers.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't looking where I was putting my feet."
"…"
The silence which she was received made her uneasy. With horror and shame she noticed the person in question wouldn't had been able to collide with her and maintain the equilibrium if it wasn't a vampire. Neave cleared her throat and looked up with uncertainty. What she encountered before her was the compassionate and surprised gaze of her child: Carlisle Cullen.
Every minute since she woke up at home with her family dead, Neave had wondered why did Mother Nature punished her like she did. She didn't understand at the time, but she did now. It hadn't been a punishment; it had been a gift all this time.
"Hello, young Cullen. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"
Author's notes: Well? I tried to write it as close to what Twilight wikia said concerning Carlisle's past. I know I completely twisted the story but Hey! At least I think I could make some good story here. Let's start the feedback!