The sky was blue; not a single cloud in sight. Fine strips of grass were whistling in the wind, singing a haunting melody. Blue skies don't always mean happiness. Especially for Edward A. Cullen. For, today was April 12, the anniversary of his wife's disappearance.
It had been three years with no sign of her. All that was left was her old, beaten truck and a tree that were oddly intertwined. The scene was left with no remains.
Isabella Swan-Cullen was pronounced dead April 12- her cause, a car crash with no futher leads to the carcass. She was never to be found.
Maybe it was planned that way.
But, Edward Anthony Cullen did not give up. He swore he never would. He knew she was out there, just, knew. A gut feeling, as most would say. But, his faith and hope was dwindling. Slowly spiraling down to nothing but a spark that was beginning to fade.
Every year, on April 12, Edward Cullen would walk one mile to the Forks Cemetery and pray. Pray that Isabella would be found- prayed that she would come home.
But, every year, Isabella's case became more and more distant. Slowly beginning to fade into the many mysteries of the many files that lurked in a closet at the local police station.
Today was April 12, 2011. Edward Cullen just walked one mile to the Forks Cemetery.
HERE LIES ISABELLA SWAN-CULLEN
LOVING AND DEVOTIONAL FRIEND, LOVER AND MOTHER.
MAY SHE REST IN PEACE
September 13, 1984-April 12, 2010
"Why!" The sound resonated across the cemetery.
But Edward Cullen received no response.
The young man dropped to his knees and pulled at his hair. Isabella Swan-Cullen did not deserve the dismissal she was given- It was unfair.
But, life is unfair.
Even for the undead.
"Please, Isabella, if you are near, please… please hear me and come home." Edward Cullen was talking to nobody, yet everyone at once.
All that was heard in response was the whistling of the wind and the trees blowing.
Please. Please.
Whip. Swoosh.
Edward turned around- frantically searching source of sound. He found none.
Whip. Swoosh.
"Hello? Is anyone out there?" He called. "Yes." Replied a voice, so melodic, so velvet, it almost appeared as a hallucination.
But it wasn't.
It was real.
"Who are you?" He called again, stretching back up on his feet, and showcasing his full height; 6'4. "I am a- a nothing. Not a spirit, not one among the living." Edward listened to the timbre of the voice- it was light, smooth. Feminine.
"May I inquire your name?"
There was a deep, silent pause.
"My name is not one you need to know, for I am forgotten to many but am a creature known by all." This, woman, was speaking in riddles- a "creature" that was not alive, but breathing, forgotten by many, but known by all.
"You are not making any sense…what should I call you?"
"You may call me as I appear."
"But I cannot see you!" he exclaimed, becoming increasingly frustrated. Who was playing him- who was here?
"I never knew you were a fan of the obvious, Edward."
How did she know his name?
"How do you know my name?" Edward stuttered through his sentence. "Because…" her voice became softer, more, human like. "Because I love you- and I, am Isabella Marie Swan-Cullen."
"Who is playing with me? Who are you? I-"
A feminine shadow stepped out from the trees. It was a figure, 5'4, at most. Her head was covered with a cloak so red, it reminded him of blood.
Blood.
The female figurine pulled back her hood and Edward gasped.
There, standing in front of him, was a woman he had prayed to see again. But this was not how or what he expected. For the woman in front of him gave off an eerily chill and a dangerous feel.
"Isabella?" he whispered. She nodded silently.
Then, quicker than he could ever see, she traveled over to him, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. "Wha- how?" Isabella placed a chilled finger over his lips.
"Shh- I know you have many questions, but I'll answer them later. Right now, all I want is a, taste."
"A… A taste?" this woman was not the woman he fell in love with and married. This was not the mother of his daughter.
"Yes. I can, smell you. I tried to keep away, to keep you and Nessie safe, but I cannot resist it any longer. Your my, 'singer'."
Isabella leaned in closer, inhaling through her nose. "Mmm." she hummed. "Fresh, pumping, lovely, blood." Edward jerked when she said that. Blood?
"Isabella, get off of me!"
Isabella didn't respond, all she did was tighten her hold. Edward twisted and pulled, but she would not relent her iron grip. Since when had she gotten so strong?
"Isabella, lest you be crazy, but his is the worst timing ever. I am at your grave! People have been thinking you dead for three years! We need to talk- oh- what are you…" Edward stopped talking when Isabella flicked her tongue out to nip against his skin. All she wanted was a little taste.
Just one taste.
But, things never seem to go as planned, especially for the undead.
As she slowly sunk her sharp teeth into his neck, Edward's heartbeat began to quicken.
Fear.
It gave Isabella an adrenaline rush.
A juicy aroma filled her senses, and she began to greedily suck more of the sacred potion.
Just a little more.
Just a little more.
Just a little more.
"Isabella…" Edward's voice was weak, and only then did she realize how faint his heart was, and how shallow his breathing was. "Sstop, please. I have, we have a- dau-ghter… please…" Edward's eyes started drifting shut, and Isabella broke through her bloodlust haze. "Edward! No! What have I done? Open your eyes! Edward!" Her melodic voice was piercing, frantic and earthshaking. "Please, I know I should have stayed away, please…" She pressed her head too his chest and listened to his feeble heart.
He was dying.
She was killing him.
She took her daughter's daddy away from her.
Thugh-thump… thugh… thump…thugh….
There was no thump that followed the first beat.
What had she done?
"Edward? Edward, I know this is a tough day for you, but you need to accept that she's gone- she's not coming back. Now, I understand why you are here, but you have a loving daughter at home who needs her daddy more than any- Oh my gosh."
Alice Cullen, Edward Cullen's sister, was heading up to Isabella's tombstone when she stopped short. There, lying right in front of her, was her brother, with blood streaming down his neck, eyes glassed over and limbs twitching. A shadow passed her with amazing speed, but she did not register the fact. All her thoughts were on Edward.
"Edward! Oh my- oh crap! Please, no, don't- are you? Are you breathing? Oh my gosh." Alice knelt by him and yanked out her phone. "Yes, this is Alice Cullen, I am calling from Forks Cemetery. My brother seems unconscious and I don't think he's breathing but his legs are twitching and- please come soon!' she snapped her phone shut, not bothering to hear what the 911 Operator had to say.
Alice Cullen was a bundle of nerves, checking her brother's pulse and trying to keep calm. But Isabella, she was behind the trees, looking down in a pond, regretting even coming here.
She had killed her husband, her former lover and father to her daughter.
What had she done?
Bad things always seemed to happen to her when she was living, but it seems they also happen to the undead.
Closing her eyes, not wanting to see the disgusting blood color of them, she swallowed her pain and disappeared into the forest; the death of her husband forever on her conscious.
END.
