A/N: I have been inspired for years over various Twilight fan-fiction. That inspiration has led me to write an, as of yet unfinished, story. This small part is an excerpt of that. I'm choosing it because it can easily be seen as a one-shot.
I'm interested in feedback about the quality of the picture and story I've created.
Disclaimer: For me as with everyone else on this and many other sites; the characters written herein are not mine, but the intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer. Her gracious permission to allow and encourage us to play with them is much appreciated. Her character's and world inspire many, myself included.
The red haze was fading and the salty copper taste that had become my world, lingered deliciously on my tongue. The body beneath me was crushed; I could not even recognize it. That made it easier; I hated looking in their dead eyes afterward. Bit by bit I had felt myself slip away.
The Thirst; it was all consuming. I was something I never thought I'd be, an addict. It recalled to my mind things like Heroin or Crack. I woke from that burning hell confused and insane with need. I could smell it near me, I did not even think, there was a blink and suddenly I was crouched over the mangled corpse of a man, his head off to the side, and I was bracing myself easily; pouring my fix down my throat like he was some kind of bottle. The burning need wasn't sated though; not until I was leaning back and licking my fingers with a third corpse nearby, his chest ripped open; the heart I ripped him open to get, discarded next to me. I'd squeezed it to pulp trying to get every last drop I could. I had stripped my clothes from me to wring them of the ambrosia they had soaked up in my frenzy. It was not until then that my mind cleared and I realized what I'd done. I screamed, pleading with the heavens, my mind echoing with but one thought, "Why?" , "What did I do to earn this?", "Why am I punished?" I screamed out, my voice louder and clearer than I thought possible; I could hear it echoing down the alleys and from the many buildings surrounding me.
My guilt flayed me and I knew I was in Hell. The burning was every bit as painful as I'd been taught, but it at least had proven temporary. However long it had been that I had burned, it ended. What I had just done, that would be mine forever. I did not understand; what evil I had committed that had condemned me to be cursed with this driving need I could not control. Even now, the Thirst, soothed from the blood it demanded, still pushed me. I could smell more all around me, there was no reprieve from it. So many different flavors, so many layers I could easily identify, and all of it seemed to pull at me, urging me to indulge again. I could feel a tickle in my throat beginning to build. That is when the demoness made herself known.
I do not know how long she'd been there watching me. She was utterly still in the shadows at the far end of the small parking area between buildings. I was immediately stunned at how inhumanly beautiful she was. Her red hair seemed to glow like fire, matching the evil brightness of her eyes. Her skin was like porcelain, her clothing tight and revealing. I registered that she was smiling at me on some level, but most of me could not stop staring into her inhumanly bright red eyes, a stark contrast to the dimly lit shadows she was taking her ease in. Between her eyes and her countenance I could only assume that my actions had impressed her; the thought that anything I had done had pleased this succubus only furthered the burn of my guilt. I found myself crouched and I was shocked to hear a hiss escape me. She pushed herself off the wall on which she'd been leaning and slowly walked toward me. She had a posture, a grace, and the sultry roll of her hips that proclaimed to the heavens that seemed denied me, this was a creature of sin. I considered that perhaps she was my guide here in Hell.
She kicked a chunk of asphalt out of her way with careless ease, one of several I'd ripped from the ground to lick clean in my frenzy. She had a wallet, my wallet I realized, in her hand; my ID held up between two delicate fingers.
"Angela Webber; age 17; home: Forks, Washington." She recited, not looking at the card, "Ms. Webber, I have not seen so thorough and inspiring a display of wanton violence in a long time." I was startled that I had not realized I'd forgotten my own name until she said it. She giggled like she'd found some prize; it made me cold. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun my dear." Some instinct I thought I did not possess took over. Her excited declaration made clear what my future held. A part of my mind suddenly imagined that future; an endless string of horrors. Worst of all was what I imagined near the end. I saw myself, smiling like her, my eyes glowing red. I saw that twisted version of me smile, holding a man's bloody heart, amused as I stared down at a mother trying to shield her baby from my wrath. I saw this demoness and I, making a wager on how long the woman would scream as we made her watch her infant crushed slowly before her. I recoiled from that vision; perhaps if I killed her, it could avoid it. I lunged, every last shred of my humanity desperate to escape that future; driving me to fight it.
She easily sidestepped me; a blow to the back sent me through a wall; sending up a cloud of dust. I was spinning and lunging again before the dust settled. I was driven by the amused smirk she regarded me with as I rushed her. My mind played tricks on me. Instead of the demoness, I saw my evil fantasy self before me. She avoided me again and suddenly I was sailing uncontrolled through the air. Instinct again seemed to take over and I rolled in the air to land and spring again, only before I reached the ground I was struck again and crashed into and through the asphalt further down the alley. I suddenly felt her on my back, bending me back in an impossible angle. I flexed; trying to pull myself straight but it I did not know my new body, it was too much. The muscles in my abdomen instead of pulling me straight ripped themselves apart, and I felt a sharp tearing feeling as my own strength tore me almost in half, a strong sweet scent suddenly filled the air to accompany my cries.
"Tsk, Tsk, newborn. I know all the ways to use your strength against you." Suddenly there was another sharp pain and then… numbness. I felt an intolerable itching feeling, almost as bad as the Thirst in my neck and tried to reach for it. I could not feel my arms; they did not respond. I could not feel… anything. I screamed but no sound came out. I could not even turn my head. The world suddenly spun and I found myself looking helplessly at my own headless but animate broken body. I could not comprehend this; my mind could not grasp this reality. Why was my body over there?
"Angela," came a whisper close to my ear, "…you can't beat me; and as you can see, trauma is enjoyably painful, but not lethal." I tried to sob but no sound came, I could not breath, my eyes itched, though I barely noticed with the burn at my neck. "Some of us have gifts, superpowers in your generation's terms." Her lips bit me earlobe, I could feel her lips brushing against me; she was so close. "You may have one, you may not; but me? I do. My power is subtle but potent. I always know how to escape. I know how to move, how to avoid getting hurt. More than any other Immortal, I cannot be beaten. You cannot get away from me."
She held my head; helpless, while I watched in sick fascination and hopeless fury my body try to drag itself to me, seemingly on instinct. Reality came home. I was damned. I had no options. I could not win. She held me there looking at my broken self for some time giggling as if it was a comedy. The demoness enjoyed the torture I was in. When she finally had made her point to me she placed my head across the alley still watching the rest of me fumble around blind. She left me there. My rational mind realized that only a few minutes had passed before she returned with a young couple, they were sobbing and horrified at the carnage and impossibilities within that dark broken parking area.
I watched as they both pled for the life of the other, each willing to die for the other. They knew they were as helpless as me in this moment; the demoness could not be beaten. She released them and they clung to each other, sharing what they knew to be their last moments. The succubus took my head up again and after a bit of disorientation I felt a strange soothing feeling in my neck before pain exploded like a fire as the rest of my body was suddenly there again. With my body came that burn again, every bit as powerful as when I first awoke. The red haze returned and I turned to the horror stricken eyes of the young nameless man. He was holding the young lady's face to his chest, whispering promises of meeting in heaven. I barely registered it as I practically flew at them. The women's scream was piercing in its anguish as I tore her mate from her arms. She finally fainted as I ripped his throat out.
The red haze passed, my body felt better, my abdomen was whole again, and my neck no longer burned. I looked down at the dismembered young couple and dropped to my knees, sobs wracking me without the accompanying tears. Behind me I heard the demoness' amused laughter echoing full and triumphant. It broke me; I surrendered.
A/N: It is my hope that this caused a reaction.
I hope I painted a clear enough picture of this moment for you. I can't imagine what it must be like for a newborn vampire, driven crazy by blood lust. In the stories they talk about it with great horror. Edward was so affected by it he learned to loath all he was. What was it he hated, what must it be like when the Cullen's are not trying to support you but a hateful "normal" vampire is trying to create one. I was trying to create perspective.
You are not supposed to like this. It's meant to invoke shock and pity. In my story Angela later plays a catalyst for a happier ending; but the light is brighter when one comes out of the darkness.
Did I do well? I'd appreciate some feedback.
Thank you.