DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight, or any of the characters contained within, or it would have been much more awesome. All of the books and stories and characters are property of the author and such, and I claim no affiliation with any of these people or objects.
A/N: This is just a really quick ten minute thing I wrote up because I was bored and I felt like writing something easy. So here it is, enjoy! (Or don't, whatever :D) Constructive criticism is more than welcome as long as it's politely written.
Blood spurted from the open wound, and her face remained frozen in an expression of pure terror. He fell upon her hungrily, having finally given in to his most primal instinct; he fed, absorbed in the smell of her – the taste of her. For so long he had held back – no – had been held back, by some unseen force that denied him of his very nature, but no longer. As he finished what remained of this weak-willed morsel, he gazed upon her in all her former glory. Eyes lolled back in her head, her mouth gaped open in the shock of betrayal. Her long brown hair was wet and matted with blood and sweat; she had tried to escape, and that had thrilled him ever more. He knew once again the long lost thrill of the hunt, of making the kill, and the joy of succumbing to pure longing.
A sly smile crossed his face as he indulged himself with memories of the chase; how her fear filled his nostrils and overwhelmed his very being, demanding that he surrender himself to that which defined his very existence, that hunger that had changed him, transformed him into something much more than what he had once been. He was a killer, borne of legends of old, and forevermore destined to know only darkness and the suffering from those he once called kin. She had entertained within him no more than a fleeting desire, before his true nature took over and delivered her into the arms of Death. But she had deluded herself, this girl called Bella; she had seen something in him that had not been there in nigh on 100 years. Her naivety had been her downfall, and there she lay, motionless and pallid, save for the crimson gash across her neck, through which her life had ebbed away.
He felt no regret as he turned his back on her corpse and let the shadows of the night embrace him, for he knew he was going home, into this deep darkness that he had been apart from for too long. And for the first time in almost a century, he was finally returning to the path fate had written for him so long ago. No more would he deny his nature, his identity, his hunger.
For he was more creature than human, and he knew that it was inescapable, this need to hunt, to feed, to kill. He was Edward Cullen, an immortal vampire, and he would pretend no longer.
