Accursed

Chapter 1

Angela's Warning

I own nothing that pertains to Twilight. And just to say, this is AU, so there will be vampires, but not exactly canon vampires.

"We are truly very sorry for your loss, Ms. Swan," I was told. Ted's voice was rather dull. It lacked character and sincerity.

"Yes, yes we are," Vanessa said in turn, pushing the navy folder across the desk. The lawyers were being so very pushy, and I didn't like it one bit. "But we do need to make some decisions, sooner rather than later."

So much for finding honest sympathy, much less a grace period to mourn. The death of a loved one didn't seem to really matter any more these days.

"Now," Ted continued, clearing his throat, "in your mother's will, it is clearly stated that when she passed away, her business would be turned over to you, her only daughter." He paced around the long, oak table, trying to appear professional but his impatience was as obvious as a red tulip amongst yellow dandelions. "However, it does continue to read that if you so choose not to inherit the business, you have the right to pass it along."

Now we were getting somewhere. This is what they were truly digging for. My refusal. My permission.

"Sorry, but there is no way that I could dishonor my mother by shunning the work she poured more than half of her life into."

It wasn't necessarily easy for me to talk about my mother, but it wasn't hard, either. The reality of it all, the heart attack, the hospital stay, the visitation, the funeral, the burial. All of it seemed to blur together. I felt numb to it. It was like my mind didn't want to fully comprehend the severity of what had happened, and what would happen in consequence. I made myself feel less guilty about it by saying eight days wasn't enough time to fully understand what my mom's death really meant. It didn't really help.

When they realized that I could not be swayed after another fifteen minutes of attempted negotiation, they allowed me to leave, the deal settled. I would be moving back to Forks, Washington by the end of the week, abandoning the world my mother had created for me here in Phoenix. My quickly earned business degree would finally be put to use, and I would be the new owner of the painfully successful Swan fortune, at twenty-one. It all felt too overwhelming. That's why I was moving closer to the source.

My mother had this bright idea when she was younger, right after she married my father. With the help of her more experienced friends, she opened a business, finding she had a knack for running a store despite her immaturity in nearly every single other level of her life. It was simple: a bookstore with a coffee shop inside. Simply titled Swan's, it quickly became successful, and within five years, mom had enough money to open up two other shops around the state of Washington.

I guess it could be said that she became a bit full of herself, thinking she deserved more than living in the tiny, droopy, dismal town of Forks, playing wife to a man she didn't fully love anymore and becoming unexpectedly pregnant with me. Their marriage lasted two years after I was born, and that's when she cut the cord and ran off with me to sunny Phoenix, a city she'd always been fascinated by.

She ran her stores from afar, hiring managers and assistants to take care of her business while she oversaw it all. The store's name did not change, although I knew for a fact that she longed to switch it to just Renee's, since she never remarried. She didn't like the Swan taint that seemed to follow her wherever she went. First, with the lengthy divorce bit, and then with me. Dad didn't want my last name changed, and my mother reluctantly complied with his wishes since he didn't put up too much of a fight during the custody battle.

I didn't even want to start diving into that hole, wondering why Charlie didn't fight for me as hard as my mother did. It was depressing, and since I would be living with him, it wouldn't do well to bring up old grudges. Over the years, I'd never visited Forks again. He always had to come to Arizona to visit me, and he did. I figured he was trying to make up for his decision to let Renee have me.

The house was empty, just as I expected, but at the same time, I half hoped that my mother would bounce down the stairs, hair a mess, and excitedly tell me about some new television show she'd found. She didn't, and instead I ascended the staircase, my pace slow, precise, and hesitant, and I started to pack. There was a lot to do, and I didn't have much time. The tears slowed the process, and more than once, I had to stop all together and curl up in her bed in an attempt to console myself.

Friday morning, I was on a plane, having sold the almost everything in the house that wasn't valuable to me, while everything that was followed me on wheels below, which was still a ton. It was hard letting my mother's things go, but I just had to suck it up and do it. The realization still hadn't come. I was in no hurry to rush it. The guilt was manageable. I endured the plane ride, sleeping most of the distance, and without much thought, changed planes as I grew closer to my destination.

Charlie was waiting for me, police uniform and all, past the security gate. His mustache was in place, as was his nearly blank stare. I faked a smile, and returned his hug.

"Welcome back, Bells," he said, his voice raspy. Evidence of thirty years of smoking.

"Thanks, dad." It took effort not to call him Charlie. Calling him 'dad' just didn't feel right. Misplaced inflection.

"How was the flight?"

"Fine. Just long."

"Good."

We took a few more steps in uncomfortable silence as we waited for the topic to make its entrance.

"And how are you? You know, with everything..."

"As fine as I can be."

"I wanted to come, Bells. I really did. It was just such short notice...and finances are a bit tight..."

Death was usually a short notice, I thought with a grimace. He knew I would have paid for his ticket,too, but I didn't say anything. I tried to believe that he had deeper reasons for not coming, and for some reason, he felt it better to make up an excuse and lie than to come out and tell me the truth.

"It's in the past, dad. Nothing we can do about it now."

"Bella!" came a loud, shrieking voice.

"What?" I was brought out of my memory trance, and remembered where I was. I was behind the counter, stirring a cup of coffee that had long since stopped steaming. I was in Forks, the wet greenery that I now had to call home. I sighed.

"What's up with you?" Jessica said, tilting her head.

"Nothing. Just daydreaming, I guess."

The teenager eyed me weirdly and then turned, wiping her hands on her apron. The girl was pretty nosy, and talkative, at least from what I'd gathered so far, but she worked hard, and I watched as she grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the counter. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly time to lock up for the night. I tried to forget about my issues with Charlie.

"I'm going to find Angela," I announced, and Jessica hummed, finishing up the closing process.

Angela was also a teenager, and thankfully she took orders better than Jessica did. Jessica obeyed with a kind of arrogance, which was probably from me being only a mere three years older than her. To her, I held a lot of power for someone so young.

And it also didn't help that I didn't have to work for it. She seemed to disregard the fact that I had to lose a parent in order to gain ownership. I sighed, and pushed my attention towards finding Angela. I didn't need to think about that at work. It was only my first day and already I was slacking. Granted, I own the place, so it didn't really matter.

When I found Angela, she was laying flat on her stomach, trying to squeeze her fingers underneath the gap between a bookcase and the carpeted floor. She groaned with the effort, and it looked like she was torturing her knuckles.

"Angela! What are you doing?"

She jumped, startled, and sat back on her heels. "I accidentally kicked a book underneath and was trying to get it out," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Don't worry about it." She smiled with me. "What all do you have left to do?"

She motioned to the rolling bookcase beside her. "I just need to stock these and that's all."

"Soon as you do, just come to the office so I can count your drawer."

"I will."

She continued to work while I worked on my checklist, doing everything else that neither of them could do. It was nice having the store completely set up. All I had to really do was make sure it ran smoothly. Day one was leaving me with very little stress. The store was small enough for the three of us to handle, even on a Saturday night. I tapped my pen against the clipboard, eying the vacant store. It was a bit odd, though, for there to be no customers, even if it was almost ten o'clock. The morning and afternoon had been busy enough.

I started counting Angela's drawer and noticed out of the corner of my eye that she looked nervous sitting in the chair beside me.

"Is everything okay?"

She smiled and picked at her nails. "Well, I know that you just got here yesterday, and everything.." She hesitated.

"Go ahead."

"Well, I was just wondering if I could have next weekend off?"

"Friday, Saturday, and Sunday?" I asked, needing exact confirmation. When she nodded, I debated while looking over the calendar that had the employee's hours sketched in. I might should have told her to ask the manager, who'd given himself tonight off since I was going to be working, but I had a good feeling about Angela.

"Sure. I'll just pick up your shifts."

She seemed a bit embarrassed. "Oh? Are you sure? Because that seems kind of selfish of me to do to you..."

I shrugged. "It's not like I have anything else to do." We shared another smile. I was beginning to really like Angela. When I looked at the clock, a question sparked. "Angela, is it normal for the store to be this quiet on a Saturday night?"

"Oh yes," she answered. "It's usually like this every night."

"Really? That's odd."

"It's because of the mansion."

Not that mansion nonsense again. That was all dad had been talking about since we made it home last night. Forks was a very superstitious town. I knew now that even the teens here believed the stories.

"Have you been told the story yet?"

I laughed a little. "Well, my dad told me about the rumors yesterday, but coming from him, it all just sounds like a joke."

Angela's expression turned to scorn. The flat line of her lips caused my smile to falter.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all, "but they aren't rumors."

The way she said it inflamed my curiosity. Maybe she knew something dad didn't. Maybe it would be somehow more believable to hear it from a regular person, not a father wearing a police uniform.

"Can you tell me?" I made my voice soft and sound thoroughly interested, hoping to make up for any offense I may have accidentally placed. She looked as though she forgave me. Her eyes became softer, although remained a little hard. They still looked serious.

"There have been several incidents. Several strange incidents. Incidents no one can even begin to explain."

"What kind of incidents?"

"What exactly has your father told you?"

"Well," I began, pausing in an attempt to remember the entire conversation from last night, "he said that the only rule he was going to give me was that I was forbidden to go anywhere near the Cullen mansion." I smiled internally thinking about when he had continued stating that I was an adult, and he was going to try and treat me like one, even if I did live under his roof. "It's on this road, right?" She nodded. "He made me drive all the way around so I could come in from the other direction, and not have to pass it. He said that the place was just...evil. Haunted. The town avoids it at all cost."

"Well, he's telling you the truth."

"So, you're telling me that ghosts inhabit the Cullen mansion?"

"No."

"But you said it's haunted..."

"It's haunted by something much, much worse than a ghost."

Goosebumps pebbled on my exposed forearms. The severity and warning in Angela's voice shook me, placing me on edge. "What is it, then?"

"No one is really sure, but from what's happened, we know one thing for sure. It's not human, and it's not a ghost. Whatever haunts the property travels at night. Three people have gone missing in the last two years." Angela's expression grew sad for a moment and she peeled at the worn upholstery of the seat on her chair. "I knew one of the boys that were taken. His name was Eric. He was a daredevil, and went in when his friends made a bet with him. He never came back out. The other two people that went missing were an elderly couple who used to live near your house. I guess they walked too close one morning when they went out for their daily stroll. What lives in that mansion took them."

I gulped, trying to take all of this in. Could it really be true? Maybe the boy used the mansion as a cover up to run away...or maybe he was kidnapped. Perhaps the elderly couple simply moved?

"Has anyone actually witnessed anything strange?" I asked quickly.

She met my eyes again. "We've seen the gargoyles move."

I answered with a blank stare. Now she was sounding really crazy. "The gargoyles move?"

"Yes. There's six of them that perch on the rooftop. Everyday that I've looked, they are sitting somewhere different, but always in the front center. The space between them changes. Their positioning changes."

"That's just not possible."

"It is. At night, they move. You can look for yourself. In the morning, drive on this road all the way from your house and note where the gargoyles are. You can see them from the gate with no trouble. The next morning, look again. They will have moved."

I swallowed hard and tapped my pen thoughtfully against my desk. Shifting gargoyles. People going missing. It sounded fishy. What would it take for me to believe Angela, or to fully disregard hers or the other people's in town beliefs like I had before her story?

"Just never go through the gate. If you do, you won't come back."

"You're sure about that?" I breathed.

"I am."

I patted her on the arm. "I'll heed your warning. Thanks, Angela, for telling me what you know."

"You're welcome. Just be careful who you tell if you still don't believe me. Everyone here is just as scared as I am of that place."

Half an hour later, Angela and Jessica were punched out and muttered soft goodnight's while I locked up the store. I smiled at the truck parked around back before climbing in. I was surprised I loved the rusted, red piece of metal as much as I did. Having the truck dad had bought off his friend, Billy Black, years back made me feel better about my decision to sell the flashy cars my mother had bought us. I'd never felt right driving the Porsche anyway. I never felt right accepting such expensive gifts from my mother but she usually gave me no choice.

I inhaled the deep scent of peppermint and ignored the lingering remnants of tobacco smoke before starting the truck and heading home the way I'd driven in. Angela had given me so much to think about. I felt the deep need to disprove the town's theories. To do that, I would need evidence. To get evidence, I would need to search. I could ask more people about the history of the place. I felt a bit silly now that I'd paid Angela so much attention.

In the morning, I would drive by the Cullen home, and see where the gargoyles were. The next morning, they would be in the same place and I could rest well and let the town believe what they wanted to believe, but at least I would know the truth. They had to be mistaken. Their fear must be clouding their judgment. Gargoyles couldn't move.

Everyone should know that.

Thanks to YxControl and rhpsfaerie, who have finally convinced me to give this writing thing a try. If you liked, or disliked, please review? Thanks.