Enchantments Contest Entry

Title: Death Lies On Her

Word Count: 9, 976

Fantasy Element or Creature: 'Original' mythology about death, souls and grim reapers created for the sole purpose of the story.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight; any original characters, details and plots belong to the writer. No copyright infringement is intended. Any coping or reproduction of this work is not permitted without the author's express written authorisation.

I'd never given much thought to how I would die. I'd hoped it would be of old age, surrounded by those I loved. I feared it would be of cancer, killing me from the inside. I had nightmares of drowning or being eaten by monsters. I worried any plane I stepped onto would crash to the ground.

All these thoughts were merely in passing. Never serious considerations. Why worry about dying while I was still alive? I had my whole life still in front of me, after all.

Wrong.

My actual death was a lot more painful than I would have hoped, and it happened much too soon. I was 19 years old. 19 years was all I got.

I guess I was partly to blame for it. I knew I shouldn't have been driving with tears streaming down my face as sobs wracked my body. I knew I shouldn't have been driving just above the speed limit in the middle of the night, with rain coming down so hard that I could barely even see the road. I knew that the bend I was driving through demanded one's utmost attention and respect, because the railing needed to be fixed and the steep incline just below was a guaranteed death trap.

I didn't show that bend in the road the respect it deserved. Because you know what? Rolling down a steep incline at that kind of speed in a car hurts like a motherfucker.

I died alone, at the tender age of 19, on what I had only a few minutes before dubbed the worst night of my existence, with my blood and brain matter splattered, smeared and pooled all over my car.

You'd think my bad luck could have run out at that point, but no, not for Bella Swan; clearly she needed to suffer some more.

Not only did I die alone, at the tender age of 19 on what I had dubbed the worst night of my existence, in a car accident that tore my body to fucking shreds in excruciating pain, but it had to happen at exactly the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'm fairly certain the Black Soul and his dog were quite surprised when my car came rolling down the incline and smashed into the base of the rock-face they were perched on. That's what Brent told me anyway. He also told me they were relieved when my soul appeared like a shimmer, slowly taking on a physical form in the pouring rain on the side of my car. Demetri only had a few hours left of his 100 year sentence, and he needed to find his replacement before he vanished.

Brent called me the answer to their prayers. I called him a disgusting asshole.

He laughed, the dick.

I had been so right about that being the worst night of my existence. Not only did I have to first experience the most extreme terror, sadness, shock, pain and regret as I rolled down the incline, because I knew instantly that I was going to die and there was so much I had left to accomplish, but I wasn't even allowed a moment of peace after my heart stopped beating before the next torture began.

It's one of the most difficult things to do, dying. The confusion, bewilderment and complete sense of loss – loss of body, loss of grip on the world, loss of life – is so disconcerting that you just don't know what to do with yourself. You have no idea that you've just been reduced to the physical manifestation of your soul, and that the body that once belonged to you will never come back to life. You just stand there like a complete tool and stare at the scene of your death.

If you're lucky, a Guide will find you first. They're quick and efficient now – they've been forced to become so because of beasts like Brent – and they'll whisk you away with a few calming words and kind smiles. You'll follow blindly, because as a soul, everything that once tied you to the universe has just been violently shredded. You have no real body, nothing to anchor you, no security line to pull you back in – you are floating in nothingness. You'll follow like a sheep because nothing makes sense except for those calming words and gentle smiles.

If you're unlucky, a Black Soul will find you first.

You'll stand there in your confusion as it appears in front of you, with a huge dog that reeks of rotting flesh by its side. It will have an arrow aimed at your heart, and with a dispassionate voice it will grant you the courtesy of letting you know that you're dead. It will tell you that you're now nothing more than the purest essence of your Self – a soul – hidden within a shell of what you used to look like when you were alive. Like a ghost.

As a final goodbye, it will tell you that you're about to disappear into nothingness, forever denied your right to eternal peace.

'It's nothing personal, you must understand.'

Then they will shoot. They will shoot the arrow straight through your heart and the touch of Death Himself will kill you in ways the word doesn't even cover.

I wouldn't know what that feels like. No one knows what that feels like, because once it happens, you're gone for good. You're nothing. Nada. Completely dissolved. Not a single atom of what you once were remains. Nothing.

I filled my lungs with the cold air surrounding me. At least I assumed it was cold, I wouldn't really know. I didn't really need it either; I was dead. The need for oxygen was a luxury reserved for the living.

But it had to be cold; the sun had set, and the leaves around me were all yellow, red and brown, some falling to the ground as their lives ended.

Would anyone blame me for being obsessed with death? I doubted it.

I was obsessed with my own, most of all. I often found myself thinking of that night, thinking of how Demetri had appeared in front of me, drenched with the rain. He had cocked his head to the side just as the foulest stench I had ever had the misfortune of inhaling smacked me right in the face. Brent's glowing, blood-red eyes had appeared in the darkness over Demetri's shoulder, and a scream had lodged itself in my throat.

"Thank fuck you're here," Demetri had said before he took a step closer. "Yes, you'll do just fine... wouldn't you agree, Brent?"

The monster had growled, and I had trembled in my figurative boots.

"You'll understand everything tomorrow, little girl. I'm sorry I won't be here to explain it to you myself, but my hours are numbered here on Earth. We've left it pretty late." Demetri had chuckled and reached out with one pale hand to trace the air around my cheek, never actually touching me. "There will be someone here when you wake up. He'll explain everything."

Then he had stepped back and Brent, the most terrifying monster I could never even have imagined in my wildest nightmares, had lunged at me.

I shivered, closing my eyes against the remembered pain slashing through my chest. I didn't like thinking about that part. I didn't like thinking about Demetri using one of his black-tipped arrows to slice through his skin, or the thick, black liquid the wound revealed. I didn't like thinking about Demetri holding his wound above my own, where the purest light I had ever seen shone out of me. I didn't like thinking about him pouring that darkness into me, allowing it to slowly take over my entire soul.

"Bella? We need to get moving. The moon will be up soon."

Brent appeared beside me and I nodded without looking at him. I didn't bother replying; I gathered my feet beneath me and we took off, heading east towards his birthplace.

Running was easy. It didn't require concentration. I just ran, fast as a speeding bullet, and it allowed my mind to wander. My morbid obsession with my own death reclaimed my thoughts, as it usually did.

There was a lot to learn when I woke up, exactly 24 hours after Demetri infected me with his darkness. A blonde man and a dog similar to the one that had attacked me stood looming over my prone body on the ground.

"Are you awake? We need to get moving. Follow me and I'll explain everything."

James introduced me to my new existence. He told me the story about Life and Death. How Life was this ethereal being who had created all life and how she was most proud of humans and the souls she had given them. She even created an after-life for them, so that when they died, they could rest in eternal peace. Then another being just like her, one who would eventually become Death, had come into her life, and they'd fallen madly in love.

But he had become jealous of how much attention and love she gave the souls, and after centuries of letting his hate of them fester in him, he had left her and come to Earth to wander it all alone. Bitter and full of hate, Death had eventually come across two beasts – Brent's parents. At the time, Cináed and Morath were the only creatures of their kind, but when circumstances revealed to Death how he and the dogs could work together to create Black Souls – by the dogs ripping into them and His dark and deadly touch infecting their insides – he had ordered them to breed. We were his weapons, his 'creations'. His revenge against Life.

Basically, we were a huge 'Fuck you'.

In layman's terms, I liked to think of us as evil Grim Reapers. We fucking destroyed souls. I couldn't really get over that.

James told me how a Black Soul only existed for 100 years before they faced the same fate as the souls they destroyed. Ceasing to be. A soul can only withstand the touch of Death for so long after all. Fucking karma.

He told me how all Black Souls have a beast and that Brent was now mine. We could communicate through telepathy; it was basically like talking out loud, but Brent would only be able to hear the thoughts I wanted him to hear, and vice versa.

This had proved to be a very fortunate thing.

The dogs never died, unless they were killed. They just got new Black Souls every 100 years. When Brent ripped into me with his teeth and claws, the venom that drenched them seeped into me and created a connection between us. It would only be broken when I ceased to exist – something Brent would survive. It was necessary since a Black Soul only had 100 years on Earth and it would have been inconvenient if the dogs, which were still only bred by Cináed and Morath, fell down dead every 100 years. Should Brent be killed, however, I would die. The connection I had with him made it impossible for me to exist if he didn't.

Luckily, the dogs were hard to kill. Unluckily, the Guides figured out how to do it thousands of years ago. They carried swords sharp enough to pierce the dogs' skin and chop off their heads. Beheading was the only thing that actually worked, but it was rare for a Guide to pull it off. However, wounding the dog created pain for the Black Soul, which gave the Guide time to whisk the lost little soul away to safety.

James also told me how Black Souls and Guides were basically at war, constantly fighting to get to souls first. I supposed it was lucky for the humans that Guides far outnumbered Black Souls. The balance of life would be completely fucked up if more souls ceased to exist than were recycled.

James taught me a lot of things in the first few days of my new existence. How to use my bow and arrow to destroy the souls Brent and I found, for instance. He taught me how my instincts as a Black Soul were impossible to ignore. The real catch of being these ungodly Grim Reapers was that we hated dying. Our instincts simply wouldn't allow it. We had all our memories from our human lives, we were all fully aware of the evil things we were doing, and we could wish for the sweet relief of ultimate death all we wanted, but there was nothing on Earth that could make us intentionally seek it out.

Basically: suicide was out.

Those instincts forced me to hunt down and destroy human souls. When the purest essence inside them dissipated into the air, the darkness within me was nourished. I fed off my victims, and no matter how much I wanted to just stop, to just starve to death so no human had to suffer the unfairness of being destroyed, my instincts wouldn't allow it.

I was in fucking hell. It had been 20 years since I died. I still hadn't come to terms with what I had become.

I looked up at the darkening night sky, searching for any signs of the moon.

"We're making good time," I said aloud, leaping over a fallen tree in my path.

Brent grumbled low in his massive chest, the trembling noise some sort of agreement. The white gust of his exhale was just barely visible at the speed we were running – it looked like smoke escaping through his bared teeth as if the fires of hell burned within him.

I sighed and kept running, wishing for time to move faster. It had been a month since I last saw Edward, just like it was always one whole month, and with less than an hour left until I would see his face again, seconds seemed to trickle by slower than rain going straight up, back into the clouds.

My dead heart felt both light as air and heavy as stone when I thought of him. It seemed unfair that I had to be dead before I got to experience the truest and most passionate love of my existence. I didn't care how many rotations I had gone through before I became a Black Soul; Isabella Swan could have been my first or my third, it didn't matter. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I had never loved anyone the way I loved Edward.

Once a month, all beasts like Brent had to return to their birthplace and hide away from the light of the full moon. It was the only night they slept, and consequently, it was the only night I spent away from my hell-hound. Consequently, it was the only night Edward and I could meet.

The thought of him, of his face, his arms and hands and lips, his embrace and his voice as he told me how much he loved me, urged me to run faster. To get Brent to his damn cave faster, where he would crawl into a ball and sleep so deeply that he was dead to the world.

A swell of relief, anticipation and nervousness rose in me as the small mountain appeared in the distance; my time with Edward was drawing closer and closer. I worked hard to contain it, but knowing that I'd see him soon filled me with so much joy I barely knew what to do with myself. In the world I roamed, happiness was practically unheard of – no Black Soul would ever profess to being happy – but I was when I was with him.

He was my soul mate, and it meant so much more than the corny connotations humans had placed on the term. What with souls actually existing and all, the phenomenon was a lot more serious than romance novels made it sound.

No one really knew how it happened, or why. It just did, and not even Life herself could account for it. She had, for some reason, allowed souls three 'rotations' on Earth, with different bodies each turn. Some would call it reincarnation. Sometimes, two souls floating without an anchor in what I liked to think of as the 'Waiting Room', where all souls went before a new rotation began, would be drawn together and collide. When they did, they'd cling to each other, desperate to find something to hold on to, something to keep them anchored.

When they were later ripped apart to be placed in new bodies and new lives, a small part of them would break away and take up residence in the other. And if they met again, their souls would explode with the need to be reunited. It was impossible to resist the urge, and there were very few who would have a reason for even trying. Why resist the complete joy of being with the one person who is absolutely perfect for you?

I sometimes wondered how long ago Edward and I had collided like that. How long had we clung to each other? How many weeks, months, years had we been given to get to know one another in the most intimate way two souls can? And how long had we been forced to suffer the solitude of being apart?

Oh god, I need to see him. Now.

My skin was crawling with need to feel his touch, my lips tingling with the need for his kiss. My long-dead heart sat like a stone in my chest, so desperate to be wherever he was. My body knew I was only mere minutes away from seeing him; if I didn't have to keep myself under control because of Brent's watchful eyes, I'd probably be doing cartwheels and bouncing around like a possessed ping-pong ball with excitement.

However, I had long since perfected the art of appearing bored when every cell and particle in me was damn near trembling with the need to be somewhere else. I watched with dispassionate eyes as Brent climbed up to his cave after me. The only thing I had to do now was make sure the opening of his quarters was sealed tight and then I'd be on my way.

"I'll see you in the morning, Brent," I said as he slunk inside the dark cavern with the grace of movement one wouldn't expect from such a monster as he was.

"Keep out of trouble," he replied, just like he always did on these nights.

The last thing I saw before I pushed the heavy boulder into place was the ghostly, deep-red glow of his eyes, slowly falling closed as sleep overtook him.

I waited for his deep, rumbling breaths to announce him unconscious. The six agonising seconds I had to wait felt like a lifetime as I tried to keep my feet from bouncing and my hands from shaking with the need to run; to run as fast as possible from there and to him, to Edward, to the only thing that mattered.

Finally the cave seemed to shake with his monstrous snore, and I took off so fast that my running leap from the cliff landed me 60 feet away on the ground. My feet had barely touched the forest floor before my legs were carrying me to Edward, moving almost of their own accord. We were always connected, always, and the time we spent apart hurt more than dying. I needed him to soothe the pain, and only his touch could do that.

I pounded the earth beneath me, and not for the first time I wished I wasn't so damn silent. No matter how much I tried, my feet were soundless across rock, dirt and forest. It was so anticlimactic. So... dead.

So horribly appropriate.

I jumped across a river, and my face split into a seldom-used grin. I left all the negative shit behind me, because it had nothing to do with my time with Edward. So close now I could taste him on my tongue...

And then I was there, so close, just another mile, just a few more seconds, just a few more trees and bushes and rocks to pass, and then I burst through the last screen of branches and there he was.

Standing in the middle of the clearing, radiant in white, was Edward, his eyes trained instantly on mine, knowing exactly where I was going to emerge.

I didn't stop running. I leaped at him, throwing myself into his embrace with a relived sob, feeling the piece of his soul in mine quiver with relief and joy. The stone-weight of my heart crumbled and shattered away, leaving only light and love and god, so much for me to feel!

"Bella," he gasped as our chests slammed together with the force of my running leap, but he could take it, as he always did, so strong and tall and mine and beautiful and amazing and so warm, so warm where I was ice cold, so light where I was dark. His arms folded around me, all the way around, holding me so tightly and using all his strength. My own arms slung around his shoulders, legs around his waist, and I cried out with joy as the pain instantly disappeared. I melded myself to him like a wet shirt.

He mumbled my name, burying his face in my hair, and we simply stopped there, just holding each other, just breathing again, just feeling the world around us with the absence of pain. And then I was pulling back and my hands were pressing into his cheeks and the glorious stubble tickled my palms and then I kissed him and my body sang, pure love spreading through every part of me.

"I love you so much," I mumbled against his lips, savouring the feel of them. There was nothing better in the world than this, this moment, these feelings, his hands on my body and his warm breath in my mouth. Nothing.

"I love you, too. God, I've missed you." He sounded agonised as he kissed me back, giving me everything I could ever want and everything I would ever need. Agonised and relieved, and so beautiful I wanted to cry. And suddenly his hands were everywhere, and I needed them everywhere and I wanted him closer, more, in me, moving over me, against me, with me. I wanted skin against skin, and as one, we tore at each other's clothes, black and white strewn across the clearing.

It was always like this. An overwhelming urge to connect would slam into us both, and we wouldn't use any words, we wouldn't pause to talk; we would rip and claw and pull and push, and he'd lay me down on the ground and I'd drag him down with me, between my legs and so warm and so hard, and he'd be right there and someone would growl and groan and whimper and then...

Home. That was the only way to describe it, to describe feeling him filling me, pushing in, making me whole and good god, it was home and it was perfect and I loved him so much. My back arched away from the grass and I couldn't seem to get the unnecessary air into my lungs fast enough.

No words could describe this. This was everything, and my legs and arms and hands wrapped around him, pulled him so tightly to me that there wasn't an inch of space between us. I forgot anything that wasn't him, or us, or this. It didn't matter that I had darkness and death churning in me; it didn't matter that we were so irreversibly different. Nothing mattered but him and how he made me feel and the soothing balm of his hands and skin and lips and voice and eyes, and how much I loved him.

Just like always, it was over almost before it had begun. A month is a long time to yearn after your heart; orgasms tend to happen really quickly when you only have a total of 12 nights together a year.

We didn't move as we lay there on the ground, trembling in each other's arms. Edward's beautiful face was buried in my neck and I felt his warm lips touch the skin there from time to time. Just because he wanted to. Because he loved me. Because he was mine and I was his, and this was our night and fuck, I'd missed him so much.

I clenched my eyes tightly shut against the sudden rush of emotions that rose in me, both good and bad; I hated how unfair all of this was and that there was nothing we could do about it. I loved how this was ours and no one else's. It was all so confusing and wonderful.

Edward's back moved under my hands as he drew in a huge breath.

"Finally," he whispered against my skin, trailing his lips along my jaw. "Finally I can breathe."

"You don't need to breathe," I teased him, sliding a hand into his hair.

"I know, but when I'm not with you it feels like I can, like I have to. It also feels like I'm fucking drowning, which is quite inconvenient. It's all very confusing."

I laughed and it felt so good. He was the only one who could make me laugh or smile.

We began to move then, rearranging ourselves in the middle of our secret hiding place. We never let go of each other. I sat on his lap, winding my legs securely around his waist once again. Chest to chest, silent heart against silent heart.

I couldn't stop touching him. My hands were constantly stroking his cheeks, measuring the length of his shoulder against my thumb, feeling his muscles shift under me as he explored me just the same.

"So what have you been up to?"

I kissed his lips before he had a chance to respond. We always asked these questions, pointless as they were; we knew exactly what the other one had been doing.

"Well, I had the privilege of meeting a famous person," he told me. When he smiled, my whole world stopped just so I could savour the moment longer.

"Oh yeah? That's exciting."

"Not really. The only reason I knew she was famous was because she asked me, 'Don't you know who I am?'"

If I could record his laugh, I'd listen to it constantly and never get bored.

"And what about you," he asked when our laughter died down. His smile slowly slipped from his face; the things that I did were never the cause of anything but frowns and sadness.

I leaned my forehead against his, closing my eyes as I sighed. "Same old shit. Brent still doesn't really like my 'diet', but it's my choice, so I don't care what he thinks."

"Is he getting suspicious, do you think?

"No. My choices aren't suspicious. They're me. Brent knows how I feel about doing that to innocent, good people."

He hummed and slowly traced the bumps in my spine, his fingers like fire across my skin, in more ways than one.

The conversation fell to the wayside as we simply sat with each other. This was all so important to us, these few hours that were never enough. He was the only life in my dead world. He was my heart, my smiles, my joy, my everything. Every second we spent together was sacred.

"I've missed you," he whispered so softly I barely heard it. The agony from before was back, and I suddenly felt like crying.

I missed crying.

"So much," I whispered back, cupping his face in my hands.

This time we made love. It was slow, and we spoke to each other throughout. I loved how he told me all the things he adored about me, and I couldn't help but do the same in return. I rocked over him, his guiding hands on my hips showing me what he needed. When I came, I did so with my head thrown back, my entire weight resting in Edward's loving hands as he held me to him, moving me over him until he joined me only seconds later in his own release.

We arranged ourselves in the grass, facing each other on our sides. I wanted him closer. With my leg thrown over his hip and my arms around him, my wish was fulfilled, and then some.

I stared into his eyes for a long time, trying to ignore the whispers of pain that tugged at my heart; even on the only night we had together, it was impossible not to think of how much it was going to hurt to leave him at dawn. Maybe I couldn't physically cry, but my lip still trembled and I felt my forehead creasing as I fought to hold back a sob.

"Don't," Edward pleaded softly. His warm fingers traced my ice-cold cheek. "Bella, please... love, please don't think about it now."

"I can't help it," I whispered. My voice wasn't strong enough to go any louder. I gripped onto his shoulder, digging my fingers into his skin. "It's all so unfair. I just want to be with you, every day; see your face and kiss you and tell you how much I love you. But instead we only have this one night, and it-... it's not fair. Why did we have to be the ones to go through this? Why- I can't... All of this just hurts so much, and I hate that it's hurting you." My voice broke in a sob that felt unfinished without tears. "And I can't take this anymore, and I just... I just... It's not fair... it's not-..."

Edward pulled me to him and I cried my unfinished sobs into his chest. It was all so damn hopeless, and it hurt so much, and it felt so unnatural to not be with him every minute of every day. He shushed me with soothing murmurs and gentle fingers through my hair, and I clung to him desperately, never wanting the night to end.

We made love several more times, pouring as much of ourselves as we could into the few hours we had. I watched the moon arch over the sky with trepidation, praying for something to stop its movement, to make time go a little slower, to give us just a few more hours; that was all I would ask for. I didn't need to be greedy.

Please, someone... don't make me leave.

No one listened. No one ever took mercy on us. More torture awaited.

When the sky turned deep blue, and the first signs of dawn announced the end of our time together, we dressed each other in silence. Then we stood, holding each other as long as we possibly dared. White and black. Warm and cold. Life and death.

"I will always love you, Bella. You're everything to me," he whispered into my ear, as if he didn't even want the air around us to overhear his words.

"God, Edward... I love you. More than anything."

His hands shook as he cupped my face, and the sheer pain in his eyes as he looked at me tore my heart right out of my chest. I sobbed again, grasping his wrists tightly, holding on to my entire life.

He kissed me with every ounce of his love resting on his lips, and a pained groan tore from him when he let me go.

"It just gets harder and harder to do this." His voice was hoarse with the weight of his emotions, and then he pushed me gently backwards, back towards Brent's cave, back towards the horrible darkness of my days without him. "Go. You have to-... go."

I shook my head, as if it would change anything. "I love you."

And then I ran. And my heart stayed back there with him, in our clearing, and the gaping hole in my chest was the only evidence I had that this was all real.

dloh

It had been three weeks since we'd last run across a soul I was willing to destroy. One handy thing about dogs like Brent was that they could see someone's whole life flashing before their eyes if they were present at time of death. This allowed me to destroy only bad people, criminals and psychos – if we ever came across a soul who had a shot at becoming a Guide, an honour bestowed only on truly good people, I ran in the opposite direction. I would not destroy something that pure, someone who had a shot at being what I desperately wished I could have been myself.

If I wasn't thinking about death or Edward, chances were pretty high I was thinking about how different my existence would be if I were a Guide. How different Edward and I would be.

So fucking unfair.

"Bella, we can't keep running like this. Three weeks is too long – you're starving."

I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the truth in Brent's words. I was starving, and I knew that if I ran across a soul now, my instincts wouldn't allow me to leave it alone. It wouldn't matter if it was an innocent child or a serial rapist – I'd have to destroy it, if only to keep myself from wasting away.

My hunger clawed at my insides, twisting painfully and snarling a reminder of what I was. I kept running.

It wasn't until later that night that I was forced to stop; Brent suddenly went rigid and froze in his tracks. I turned back to him with growing apprehension. I knew what this usually meant.

"What is it?"

His hackles rose as his whole body seemed to shake with the vicious growl that tore out of him.

"Time to get you fed, Bella. There's a whole feast for you five miles south of the city."

Fuck.

He took off without waiting for an answer from me. I had no choice but to follow him.

"How many?"

"15. A bus hit a patch of ice."

I gasped. I hated accidents.

"And the road? Any other cars?"

"No, the road seems pretty deserted this time of night. I don't thi- oh, shit!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Three Guides just appeared!"

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Guides in the same place as someone like me was never a good thing.

"Should we turn back?"

"No, we need to hurry up. There are two other Black Souls closing in – it looks like it's going to be a fight. They'll need our help."

Shit, shit, fuck, dammit, fuck! I hated when he did that.

"Brent, come on, it could be dangerous! Let's just fi-"

"Bella, we can't avoid this. They know we're coming anyway and they will need our help. So you better start using your inside voice or shut up."

I punched his shoulder, ignoring the growl he sent my way.

"You know I don't like this, Brent. I can't believe you dragged me into a fight."

"It's your own damn fault! If you'd fed at some point earlier, I wouldn't have stopped. You need this, Bella. Just one soul; you can handle it."

This was another time I missed crying. I could not handle it. A bus full of people rarely held any murderers or psychopaths. Just normal, innocent people.

"Fuck you."

He only snarled and ran faster.

Soon I began to feel the tell-tale pull of roaming souls nearby. The hunger and darkness in me seemed to purr with excitement, forcing me closer and closer. My instincts started taking over my movements, and within seconds I was running ahead of Brent. I wanted to slow down, I wanted to stop, to turn back around and find a jail full of child molesters, but I couldn't.

So close... just one... it won't be so bad... the innocent ones are much sweeter anyway...

I groaned and shook my head, disgusted by the thoughts running through my head. I knew it wasn't me – it was only my hunger – but I was so repulsed I would have thrown up if I could.

I heard the first scream and knew I was close. Within seconds Brent and I burst out of the woods surrounding the road and came face to face with the carnage.

Sharp bends, buses and ice really don't mix. Add a few trees on the side of the road, and you're pretty much fucked. Especially when the bus goes up in flames.

But I couldn't focus on the wreckage. All I could see were thirteen – some must have been destroyed already – terrified souls spread all over, some staring at the bus in horror and some staring at the two terrifying monsters growling at them.

A flash of white caught my eye, and time slowed as I felt myself become doused with panic. It was almost like slow-motion as my eyes took in Edward, trying desperately to herd the souls away and avoid the deadly arrows of his enemies.

No, no, no, no, oh god, please no...

This was all too familiar to me. A fight just like this was how we'd met for the first time. It had freaked me out more than anything in my entire existence to feel such an instant draw to someone; for weeks afterwards I had wandered around in a daze, a yearning in my heart to see him again, to be wherever he was. I'd almost lost my mind with longing for him, and the next time we saw each other, I was both relieved and horrified.

It wasn't until months later that I had run across him at our clearing during a full moon. Neither one of us could resist the draw between us, and ever since then I had been completely his.

But now he was here, in another fight. There was nothing that terrified me more.

He looked up briefly, and our gazes locked. The same panic I felt in me seemed to flare in his eyes; panic at having me so close to danger. I wanted to grab him and drag him somewhere safe, to keep us both out of harm's way – I wouldn't be able to stand it if anything happened to him. It was my biggest fear, and I knew it was his as well. Panic was the only emotion I could feel right now.

We stared at each other for less than a second. Black Souls and Guides were not supposed to love each other. If anyone found out... the danger we would both be in wrapped my heart in stone-cold fear.

Edward's eyes broke from mine, but no matter how much he tried, the tension that had entered his body now would not go away until he knew I had made it away from this fight safe. The same went for me.

Miraculously, I hadn't faltered at the sight of Edward. I kept running, grabbing my bow and an arrow in automatic movements and tried to decide which poor soul would never feel the pleasure of eternal peace and rest at my hands.

Just one... that's all you'll need...

I hated this part. I wanted to scream as I looked around, seeing the bewildered and scared faces of my potential victims. How could I do this to them? How could I pick one?

I groaned as I allowed my instincts to take over. The sooner I destroyed someone, the sooner this would all be over. I stopped in front of a middle-aged man who looked scared out of his mind. His eyes kept flitting about and his mouth was open in a silent scream. I aimed my arrow at his heart just as he seemed to realise I was there. His terrified eyes widened, and he started shaking his head.

"Please... wha... what-...? Please..."

My face twisted in pain as he begged me, and I let out a sound akin to a whimper.

"I'm so sorry," I told him in a strained whisper, and then my fingers let the arrow fly.

He dissolved in front of my eyes, the look of terror frozen on his face, and I immediately felt my hunger become sated. I felt like screaming, like tearing my skin from my flesh, like throwing myself into the flames taking over the bus. Fuck, I hated this so much.

Even without looking, I knew Edward had seen me. I could feel his eyes, watching me, begging me to look up. I allowed myself one second to let him see how much I hated myself for what I just did.

I turned around and once again looked directly at him. All I could see in his eyes was understanding. He gave me a barely noticeable nod before grabbing a soul and pushing her behind the bus, trying to keep her out of harm's way. Somehow, that made me feel both worse and better.

I wanted to leave now that I'd gotten what I needed, but the urge to make sure that Edward came out of this alive kept me rooted in place.

The male Black Soul suddenly shouted at me. "Hey, you! You gonna help out or what?"

I nodded without thinking; I couldn't make them suspicious, I couldn't make them think I was acting strangely – I had to act just like them. I had to keep Edward safe.

It was hard to keep track of what happened next. These things tended to get messy. A few more souls were caught in the crossfire, but the majority of them seemed to be doing well under the Guides' protection.

I shot a few arrows at them, intentionally missing by the width of a hair. I couldn't bare hurting one of Edward's companions either; the very thought made me sick.

"Bella! Distract the little black-haired one!"

My head snapped around to Brent, confused by his sudden command in my head. I felt like I couldn't focus on anything when I turned back towards the fight, trying to see what Brent was referring to.

I forgot all about the little black-haired one as my whole world tilted on its axis, and a shrapnel of panic and fear tore violently through my long-dead heart. I took in everything in the blink of an eye; the male Black Soul was aiming an arrow at Edward, who was too distracted by the snapping teeth of a dog to notice, and he had a perfect shot.

His elbow pulled back another inch in preparation, and I could no longer hear the screams of the souls, or the roar of the flames or the growls of the dogs. Everything fell away but for one thought: Edward was going to die.

It's possible I shouted, or screamed. I really had no idea. I just knew that I could not let Edward die. It wasn't an option.

The arrow was flying out from my bow before I had time to think; it lodged itself straight through the guy's head and he fell to the ground immediately. His arrow went flying, hitting nothing but the asphalt as he collapsed.

Everyone stopped. The sight of him falling down because of an arrow through his head shocked everyone into stillness. They stared. First at the slowly disintegrating man, and then up at me, my bow still raised. My harsh breaths, infused with panic, seemed to be the only sound echoing against the trees around us.

Fuck. Shit. Oh shit, oh shit, what do I do now?

I couldn't help it. I looked at Edward. His eyes were wide as he stared at me. This was not good. I felt my lips move soundlessly as I tried to think of something – anything – that would help us now. He just shook his head, growing fear taking over his face. So not good at all.

The man's dog roared at me, turning away from Edward in his rage. I hardly noticed.

"What the hell was that?"

The other Black Soul, a woman with fiery red hair, was the second to break the silence. She looked just as furious as the dog currently growling at me. The other two Guides just looked confused.

"I... I don't-..."

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop my eyes from flickering back to Edward. I was so scared of what was going to happen now that I couldn't even gather my thoughts to make up some believable lie.

It was too late anyway. The woman glanced between me and Edward, taking in how he never stopped looking at me in panic, and realisation dawned on her face.

"You were saving him?" Her voice was no more than a repulsed whisper, as if she couldn't believe I had done such thing.

Terror clogged up my throat, making words impossible. The man's dog growled even louder and took several strides toward me, teeth bared in a clear warning. Edward's sword twitched in his hand and he seemed to take a step forward before he could stop himself. He would not let the dog hurt me.

The woman suddenly barked out a laugh, looking at me in astonishment.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. You... and him?"

I had no answer. It was fairly obvious by now, anyway. When I remained silent, a definitive acknowledgement, a furious snarl broke out to the left of me, and Brent's words filled my head.

"Bella! A Guide? What the hell are you doing with him?"

Brent appeared in front of me, standing directly between Edward and myself. I still couldn't speak or move. I couldn't even bring myself to lower my damn bow.

"Answer me!"

His order was accompanied by another snarl, and I jumped slightly in alarm. My voice shook as I finally got some words out. "Brent, I... you don't understand, I-"

His growl cut me off. He was absolutely furious.

"No, I don't understand! How could you be so fucking stupid! Aren't there better ways to fulfil those urges? There are plenty of Black Souls who'd be willing to help you out with that, and you still go after a fucking Guide? For what, Bella? Sex?" He seemed to spit the words at me, and a sudden wave of fury rolled through my body at his implication, replacing the ice-cold dread with a raging fire.

"No, it's not about that!"

"Then what?"

Before I could stop myself, I snarled out what could only be my own death warrant.

"I love him!"

My bow clattered to the ground as I clamped my hand down over my treacherous mouth. The little black-haired one gasped – she seemed to speak for everyone present. Edward's sword dropped just a little, and the fear and panic that had been etched on his face before became about tenfold at my declaration.

The man's dog looked between me and Edward. His red eyes, full of death and anger, bored into me; after a few seconds he slowly began to walk away. He cast a quick glance at Brent, as if to let me know that the only monster I should be worrying about at that moment was my own.

I was afraid to look at Brent. He had always only tried to protect and help me, but his disdain for Guides wasn't a secret. I knew that he was not only absolutely enraged with me, but disappointed and disgusted as well. He just wouldn't be able to understand; his view on our existence was skewed after centuries of wandering this Earth and watching companion after companion either disappear every 100 years, or die at the hands of a Guide well before their time.

The rumbling growl that started rising in him was so deep I swore I could feel it through my feet.

I painstakingly swallowed and looked down at the ground.

"Brent, please ju-..."

His roar cut me off, and I cowered where I stood, my eyes forced to look up at him. He hadn't moved at all, still standing between me and Edward in the middle of the road. His gaze never left me.

"Brent..." I tried again, speaking out loud. My voice was no more than a weak croak.

His claws strained against the asphalt, warning me this time. Loud and clear.

"Bella, don't," Edward pleaded with me. I could almost see the chaos of his emotions, and all of them were directed at me. He held no concern for his own safety whatsoever. I really wished he would.

"Edward... you-...? And her?" The blonde Guide pointed at me, looking completely perplexed. Edward didn't even spare him a glance.

"Not now, Jasper. Please."

"Edward..." The black-haired one spoke now, her voice laced with sadness and disappointment. I didn't even know her, but her tone felt like a knife slashing across my chest. I knew I wasn't good enough for Edward, but it still fucking hurt to hear a stranger confirm it.

Apparently Edward wasn't very happy with her tone either. He tore his eyes away from me to glare at her.

"No! You don't get it, Alice. Bella is to me what Jasper is to you, so don't you dare give me that bullshit."

"You're mates?"

He looked back at me, our eyes locking across the distance. His sword twitched in his hand as he gripped it harder.

"Yes."

Everything happened so fast after that. As soon as the word left his mouth, Brent's voice filled my head.

"This is for your own good, Bella."

Then, with a monstrous snarl, he lunged at Edward. I screamed as I watched Brent's teeth snap closed in the thin air where, only milliseconds before, Edward's throat had been.

"Brent! No!"

My voice was raw, breaking in pain as I realised that there was nothing I could do this time. Brent would not stop until Edward was destroyed. I couldn't send an arrow flying at him now – even if that could kill him, my instincts would never let me do it. Edward could try to fight him off, could try to swing that sword at his thick neck, but Brent had survived centuries of fights just like this. Edward was just an infant compared to him; weak, defenceless and easy prey.

I had doomed us both.

Edward and Brent flew around so fast that their movements seemed like a blur. I saw flashes of metal as his sword swung through the air, black against white, growls and grunts echoing all around us.

"NO! Brent! Please, stop! Please!"

I had never felt this anguished in my entire existence. Edward was going to die, I knew it in my heart, and the complete pain of that knowledge made me feel as if I had died all over again. I hadn't even lost him yet, and I still felt abandoned, still felt like I had lost my only grip on the Earth. There wouldn't be anything left for me when Edward died, and I would be forced to endure the agony of existing without him for another 80 years. I could beg Brent to kill me too, but how would my instincts ever allow me to actually follow through?

How can my heart ever allow me not to?

Then a howl of pain tore through the air, and a dark splatter of black blood appeared on the road as Edward's sword sliced through Brent's skin. Immediately, I felt the echoing pain slash through my own chest, and I screamed, clutching at the phantom wound.

A lifetime seemed to go by in the following two seconds. Edward looked up at me when he heard my scream, and I could see it dawn on him what he had just done. Hurting Brent meant hurting me, because of our connection. It then crashed into him that if he somehow managed to kill Brent, I'd die too. He couldn't survive this without losing me, and I couldn't walk away from here without losing him.

I could almost hear his heart breaking.

He was so completely distracted that he didn't see Brent's next move until it was almost too late. A giant paw swiped at him, just barely missing his abdomen, but the sudden attack knocked Edward off his balance. I watched with a sense of denial and screaming fear as he lost his grip on his sword.

It flew through the air, landing several feet away from him and skidding down the road towards me.

This was it. I was about to lose the only one who had ever really meant anything to me. When he died, I... I couldn't even imagine what my existence was going to be like. All I could see and feel in my heart was darkness and misery.

I looked down at the sword, just within arm's reach of me. Would it disappear when Edward did? Or would I be able to keep it? Would I be able to carry this one thing of his with me until I was finally allowed to join him in nothingness?

Brent's satisfied growl tore my gaze back up; Edward looked resigned to his fate. When he looked into my eyes, I knew what he was thinking.

Thank god it's me and not her.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout at him to run, to get away, to survive, because I couldn't... I couldn't...

He can't die. You can't let him die. Even if it costs you your own damn life, you cannot let him die.

If I'd had a heartbeat, it would have been pounding in my ears, drowning out every other sound. As it was, I could hear everything with a terrifying clarity. I could hear Edward draw a final breath; I could hear Brent's claws against the road as he crouched down, ready to leap.

No.

And then there was nothing.

I was running.

I had heavy steel in my hand.

I was screaming at the top of my lungs as I raised the sword above my head.

I distantly heard Edward calling out my name in an anguished cry, telling me to stop, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except saving him. He couldn't die. I would not allow it.

Even if it meant sacrificing myself to do so.

Brent had no time to react. I brought the sword down with all my strength, even as every instinct, every damn particle in my body, sought to stop me.

The blade sank through his skin, flesh and bone cleanly, effortlessly, and I immediately felt pain like I had never felt before searing through my entire being. Brent's head and carcass fell to the ground, followed by the clatter of the sword as I dropped it.

Terrified. I was absolutely terrified as I felt myself disintegrate, felt myself disappearing. I couldn't believe I'd put so many souls through this agony, through this complete and utter terror.

Strong arms grabbed me as I fell to the ground, but not even Edward could hold me together. I looked up at his face, his beautiful face, so twisted in suffering now. I wished I could cup his cheek one last time, but my arms refused to move.

"Bella! No, no, no, no! NO! Bella, oh god… why-… Bella, please, oh god, please, please… Bella!"

His hand on my face, his eyes above mine, dark now with pain and horror at what I had done to save him, and his sweet voice in my ears, pleading desperately. If I had to go, this was definitely favourable to any other alternative. At least I got to see him one last time.

"I love you…" I managed to tell him before everything went black and I could no longer feel anything.

dloh

Not existing at all was very different from what I had been expecting.

First of all, having a conscious thought seemed odd, considering I was supposed to be completely dead.

Second of all, I could very distinctly feel my toes.

Again, this seemed odd.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I could feel other extremities as well, like my fingers and arms. I started listening, and realised I could hear the gentle silence of stillness. I drew in a breath, and I could smell something so entirely warm and good. I could feel my eyes moving behind my closed lids, and a strange light seemed to be flickering above me.

Something was terribly wrong. What the hell was going on?

"Bella?"

I gasped and my eyes flew open. I'd know that voice anywhere.

Edward's face was the first thing I saw, floating above me. I felt completely confused. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Why was he here?

What the fuck was going on?

"You're not dead," he said, seeming to answer my unvoiced question. "Or well, you're not alive either, but... well, you know what I mean."

I stared at him.

"Huh?"

His warm hand pressed against my cheek, but it felt... wrong. It was supposed to be hot against my ice-cold skin, not merely warm.

He laughed, and it was a sound so full of joy that I momentarily didn't care what the hell was going on if it made him this happy.

"You're not dead. You're here, with me."

I had to sit up. Edward helped me as I struggled, gentle hands guiding and steadying me. I was on a bed, in a room decorated only in light and gentle colours.

I looked directly into his eyes with what I hoped was a no-nonsense glare.

"Explain. Now."

He grinned but obliged me immediately. "Life Herself stepped in and saved you. When you sacrificed yourself like that, and went against all your instincts, she couldn't just let you be destroyed. She saved you." He paused to push a strand of hair behind my ear. "She saved me."

"What? I don't get it... What's going on? How... what?"

"She made you a Guide, Bella. Just like me."

His words were impossible. They made absolutely no sense at all. How could I be a Guide? How could... no way. This just wasn't happening, this was some... some weird dream or something. I-... this couldn't be real.

"... What?"

"You were supposed to become a Guide when you passed away, you know. If Brent hadn't been there when you died, Life would have made you one of us. She told me. She couldn't let someone as good as you just disappear."

"But... I killed Brent. How could... I should've been-"

"Death may have created Black Souls, Bella, but the raw material he used still belongs to Life. We are all Her's; she can do whatever she wants to us. She saved you, Bella."

It took him at least another hour to completely convince me of what he was saying. He never grew irritated at having to re-tell the whole story, of having to explain everything over and over. He did it patiently, waiting for me to fully understand what had happened, for me to fully grasp the complete fucking miracle that had occurred.

"I'm a Guide?"

"Yes."

"And you're a Guide?"

"Yes."

"And we'll get to spend forever together?"

"Yes."

Edward was grinning, and I finally allowed myself to believe in what he was saying. It had to be true. If I were destroyed, reduced to absolutely nothing, how the hell was I supposed to have dreams and thoughts and conversations that lasted an hour with my soul mate?

I was a Guide. With Edward. And we had forever.

"Holy fuck," I whispered.

He only laughed before grabbing my face and finally placing his lips against mine. His kiss felt just like home.