Fate or Chance Encounter

1935

The year was 1935; Emmett McCarty was 20 years old. He was a young man without a single care in the world, other than bringing home a trophy deer. It was his turn to go hunting food for his family. He wanted to best his brothers, to provide a meal, and to impress the young ladies with his stories of adventure. His younger siblings thought he was the cat's meow; he was much loved and revered in his family. Emmett was the life of the party; he was funny, handsome, and very strong. He had his pick of all of the unmarried girls across three counties, although not a single one had caught his eye, yet. Life was good for Emmett.

With his rifle slung over his shoulder, he set off in to the mountains of Tennessee. He was going to stay in the woods until he came home with something to show for his hard work. His father and brothers offered to go with him, but he refused. He wanted to do this all himself. Emmett McCarty was a strapping and capable young man with the whole world sitting in the palm of his hand.

It was the middle of July, so it was hot and muggy out. This was his second day out on the hunt. The weather was hot enough that he never required shelter overnight. He just slept on the forest floor. Emmett managed to find a huge clearing. The sun was straight overhead beating its rays down on his body. Emmett was so parched; his mouth was dry and felt mealy. He grabbed his flask and took a large swig of water, swishing the cool liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it. He could hear a brook trickling off in the distance, so he decided to greedily drink until there wasn't a drop left inside.

Emmett's hair was saturated with sweat dripping down his strong jaw line. His breath was coming out, shallow, but steady. His body was sticky and he was starting to attract mosquitoes. He slapped a huge mosquito off of his arm. "Damn blood sucker. Go find an animal to feed off of" he said in a huff. Instinctually, he started to scratch at his bite, even though it didn't itch. The more he moved, the more perspiration soaked his body. It was a vicious cycle. He had pulled his long sleeves up over his forearms.

He was so hot, that he grabbed at his leather suspenders pulling them off of his shoulders and letting them hang down around his legs. Emmett grabbed at his cotton shirt and lifted it to wipe his sweat-slicked brow. Eventually, he decided to take the shirt off altogether. He crossed his arms and started to pull; it hung on tightly to his muscled physique. His shirt was stubborn, but Emmett, himself, was even more stubborn. He grabbed again at the back of his neck and tugged. The shirt caught itself between the inverted V shape of his shoulder blades. This task was proving to be very difficult. Finally, it released, and he pulled it over his head, but it still stuck to his muscular chest and rock hard abdomen. He pulled a fourth time and it made a sucking noise as it peeled away from his body. He wrung the shirt out and tied it around his waist. He picked up his rifle and flask, walking his way to the brook, to cool off and get a drink.

He caught sight of a deer quite a distance away. He was holding as still as humanly possible, aiming his rifle at the unsuspecting deer, waiting for it to come nearer to get a shot off. What he didn't realize is that he was not alone in these woods. He was being watched...intently.

A beautiful blonde girl was drinking him in. Rosalie Hale was out hunting herself, when this beautiful man caught her eye. Most humans were extremely dull and weren't important enough to have Rosalie give them a second glance. She could tell he was very poor by the state of his dress. The thought of his being poor did not bother her and that was really saying something. His simplicity was endearing to her. He was wearing a white cotton undershirt that was tight enough, that when you looked at him, you didn't need to use your imagination to picture what was underneath. He wore a pair of faded dungarees that were a little too short for his long muscular legs. His shoes were worn and in desperate need of resoling. After he peeled his shirt off successfully, his body was a work of art. He was well muscled and very handsome. His face was chiseled, but it had a boyish quality to it, too. He reminded her of Henry, her friend's baby, and that made him even more interesting to look at. His black curls were wet with perspiration and they stuck to his forehead. When he saw the buck off in the distance he smiled and took aim with his rifle. His smile was heavenly. She wanted to stand here forever looking at this perfect man.

She knew that they could never be. He didn't belong in her world and she didn't belong in his. She watched him for a little while longer and then went on her way to find her own food. The thirst was too great watching this beautiful man, so she ran. She would never take away his life, especially if he had a choice. Rosalie knew that she was a monster, but she made a choice to do no evil. Her father-figure, Carlisle, helped her with that decision. After she enacted her revenge on Royce King and his friends, she stuck to her word, and has never taken another human life since and never will again.

Emmett waited in the cover of the trees for about ten minutes waiting for the deer to move closer to the brook. He was kneeling on the ground, the butt of the rifle leaning up against his right shoulder; he closed one eye to get a better visual and waited. The buck's rack was huge. This kill may be a county record. The thought of how he was going to get this one home occurred to him. He was so excited that he never heard the movement behind him, but the deer did. The deer finally looked up; appearing terrified, and then jumped straight up and ran away, as fast as his legs could take him.

Emmett was startled by the deer's hasty departure. Before he could register what was happening a massive weight bore down upon him, crushing the very breath from his lungs. The grizzly knocked his rifle away and started hitting him with its enormous paw and claws. It struck, inflicting severe burning, searing pain going from his left arm all the way down his chest. He needed to escape, so he kicked at the grizzly as hard as his legs could. The bear didn't budge, but it did pull its huge paws back, giving Emmett a moment to drag himself backward.

He had absolutely no use of his left upper extremity. There was bone, muscle, and sinew exposed. He was bleeding profusely and going into shock. The blow had been so severe that it shattered his ribs. A horrifying scream finally flew from his lips, but he knew that his scream would go unanswered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished that he would have accepted his brothers' offer of tagging along. He knew he was going to die and made peace with God. He silently prayed for his family, especially his mother, hoping that she knows how much he loves her. The grizzly attacked once more, and took Emmett's head into its mouth and started to bite down, locking its jaw in place. Emmett started to see the proverbial stars dancing in front of his eyes. As the razor sharp teeth sliced through the top of his head and cheeks, blood oozed all over his face and went into his eyes. His breathing was coming out in-and-out in short staccato-like bursts. Adrenaline was coursing through his body.

At that moment a flash of yellow tore through the trees. The grizzly's nose shot up in the air and it released Emmett; his limp body fell to the forest floor convulsing angrily after it landed. The grizzly was acting as if there were a predator just as dangerous as him nearby. Emmett thought he was hallucinating because he saw an angel swoop down and hit the grizzly knocking it back about 50 yards. The grizzly stood up and charged at her. She picked Emmett up and started to fly through the trees as fast as her legs could take her. "You'll be alright. I am going to save you. Please don't die until I get you to Carlisle." She needed this man to live. Carlisle was the only one who could save his life, to give him a chance, to turn him.

Present Day, 1955

Emmett Cullen came out of his reverie and jumped to crouch on a boulder. Closing his eyes, Emmett flared his nostrils, using his sense of smell to find his prey. The grizzly's scent was dank, musky, and heady. The aching need to kill suddenly took over. Venom was pooling in his mouth, making the aching exponentially greater. His eyes turned black and his vampire enhanced, lethal senses kicked in.

The trees and brush were a blur as he ran at full speed. It was on the move, after his prey. The animal was so engrossed with his prowling, that he never even sensed my presence. "You can run, but I will catch you" I growled out in a menacing, serious tone.

This hunt was not only for sustenance, but also to exact revenge. One hundred yards separated us, me and the same grizzly that mauled me as a human 20 years ago. The grizzly suddenly smelled my sweet scent. His prey forgotten. Our eyes lock on one another, recognition sparking in his eyes. His ears perk and his fur­ ripples in anticipation. Anyone who says that these animals aren't intelligent is wrong. He knew me and wanted to finish me off.

Muscles flexing, he charges and I leap. With a huge thunderous collision, we tore and thrashed, for what seemed like hours. With one quick movement Emmett managed to snap his spine and break his neck. He tore into the grizzly's carotid artery, the metallic, sweet, thick, warm liquid then washed down my throat. The burning in my throat and the pounding in my ears had subsided. He has finally gotten his revenge and it felt good knowing that this grizzly would never be able to hurt anyone ever again, plus it was a tasty kill. Was it fate that brought Rosalie to those woods, on that day, at that precise moment or just a chance encounter? Emmett would like to think it was both.