I SCRY WITH MY LITTLE EYES
Disclaimer: This particular plotline belongs to my imagination, the characters and some of the ideas belong solely to Stephanie Meyer though - Sucks.
Prologue
Pale hands stroked the gleaming, deadly metal in their loose grip with a frigid caress. Adrenaline pumped wildly through dark purple veins that pulsed noticeably beneath snow white skin stretched far too thinly over fragile, almost brittle, bones.
Tears of deep rooted bitterness and betrayal fell endlessly from hollow and blank eyes, and then dropped soundlessly onto cold steel before they mingled with the scattered dewdrops in a deserted meadow under the sinking sun.
A half-crazed smile graced chapped, raw and reedy lips; a smile which seemed so out of place on a face so determinedly fixed on being devoid of any feelings; decidedly empty of emotion. Unseeing, empty eyes were focused on something in the distance, but they were glazed over as if the world was too horrific and terrible to look at anymore.
Suddenly, two tiny hands, more like the fragile wings on a dove than human hands; tightened around the object in their grasp and then slowly but surely, turned it around so that a merciless tip of cold steel pressed against the slowly-fading warmth of pale human flesh. A rapidly rising heartbeat spun out of control, veins pulsating and jumping; as if the simple, yet fatal, dagger was a drug to its wielder. But who to say that it wasn't.
Every diminishing muscle in this frail body screamed for the addictively pleasurable pain it knew the sharpened, butcher-like knife would bring; and the blackened soul shrieked mercilessly for the sweet kiss of death. And what this soul wants, this soul receives.
A violent, yet eternally satisfied scream shattered through the eerily silence, before it was drowned out by the rivers of vivid red blood gushing out from a pale throat, cut straight through from ear to ear. Scarlet rain fell in puddles around the now sinking figure, as it stained the grass an unearthly red-brown. Motionless on the tainted ground, long ebony locks spread around a broken soul like a blackened halo; making the dying child look like a fallen angel suffering in now empty and lonesome silence. Her crimes unknown to anyone but the slowly fading waiflike creature; she was just another story to be lost in the empty abyss of time.
Soundlessly, just as the daytime began to sinking slowly into night, two almost dimmed eyes glowed one more time, as a single word passed dying lips, hoarse and pained;
"Twilight…"