AN: I LOVE Alice, and I decided it would be interesting to explore her character by doing a story about her life, and her Jasper. So, here we are. The result of a midnight session with Evangaline (my laptop) let's all hope it's not too bad!
Disclaimer: I don't own the fabulous Alice, or any of the other characters, no matter how much I want to.
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Darkness. That is what my life consisted of mainly. I missed the sun. The only light I ever got was whatever spilled in from the hole they fed me through. This was hell. Sometimes I closed my eyes, and remembered what it used to be. When I would play in the yard with Cynthia. Little Cynthia. She was so full of life. We were not very different. Her hair was much longer, and she liked to wear it loose around her face, and her eyes were midnight blue to my brown, but the main thing was, we were both the happiest in the country. Out of all the people we knew, we were always the most energized. Always the most ready to take on a challenge. Then it happened. I saw it. I saw the brown haired man coming towards me with a smile on his face. That's when everything fell apart.
I told mother, and none of them believed me. Not a one. I tried to make them believe. I told them everything, I told them things that they knew were true, but they didn't believe were true. Maybe they didn't know they were true. They put me here.
I still remember Cynthia's little wails of sadness when they told her that her sister had died. DIED. I could kill them. I wanted to.
I wish I could. But, somehow that would seem, off. I was alone here. Always alone in this world of darkness with only me myself and I for company. I wasn't naturally a depressed person. I just found it hard not to be in this horrible place. I made the best of it though. I created games to play. Trying to think of the most outrageous situations, and place myself there, just to see what I would do.
I would speak cheerily to the men who came to give me the slop they called food, which I ate all of, because I needed the strength. Somehow, I doubted that even after all they'd put me through, they would poison my food. Though, looking back they probably did put a sedative or two in there. I brought myself to the present. I could feel a change in the air, and I felt it coming on. A vision was coming to me, now. I pinched myself.
I had decided a little while ago, that I should stop with all of this vision nonsense, or I really would go insane. My jaw locked. The most entirely horrible part of all of this, was that I was indeed not crazy in the slightest. Damn nitrous oxide. I screeched, and then realized that that probably wouldn't help matters much, so I stayed quiet, softly humming 'moonlight sonata' to myself, and dreaming of playing it on the piano with Cynthia again.
Someone came 'round to give me my daily meal, and I looked at whomever it was willing them to see that I was not what they thought I was. I saw two sharp hazel eyes that looked strangely sympathetic. I squeezed a tear out of my eye, just to see what would happen, and got a strangely sad looking purple one in return. The man spoke to me very softly with a voice as sweet as honey,
" I am so sorry, my dear Alice. I will save you."
"Pardon?"
I was shocked beyond words, but the good manners my mother had taught me rang true in my voice even after all she'd done. He chuckled a small melancholy tune, and turned away. Those eyes were the strangest purple I had ever seen. Possibly the affect of placing blue colored contacts, onto red eyes…(AN: I know they didn't have contacts back then, but they are kind of vital to the story.)
A change was coming. I could feel it in the tips of my fingers, and the soles of me feet, though I tried very hard to shake the feeling, it stuck with me. I turned to the mushy food. Upon feeling it with my finger, I came to the conclusion, that it has a consistency very close to that of vomit.
I ate it anyway, and afterwards, I was just about ready to fill the dish with my own vomit. Several tears escaped down my cheeks. No matter what the strange man had said, there was no way out of this horrible place. I would die here. I lay down on the plush floor, and cried myself to a dreamless, restless sleep. When I woke, I could see light.
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It was spilling in from the door, that was for the first time they had finished testing me, wide open, with the strange man looking at me from the frame. He was very handsome. I immediately pictured him with young Cynthia, wishing she was here, for this man was perfect for her in every way. He had jet-black hair, and a tall though not over-exceedingly statuesque figure. His hair was combed very neatly, and a slight fringe of hair covered the top of his forehead.
He was wearing the usual uniform for those of this 'facility' (or dungeon should you prefer the more correct term) though it looked strangely wonderful on him. I concluded that he would look stunning in what ever he garbed himself in, whether it be a barrel, or this strange white uniform. I picked myself up from the ground, squinting my eyes against the light that I craved for, yet seemed much to bright to handle. I suppose that is what comes from being kept in a black room for 169 days. I'd been counting. He came towards me, and smiled.
"I am Trent." He said. Yuck. I hated the name Trent, but he seemed nice enough, so I let him carry on. He did. He carried on, to smack me on the head. I blacked out.
I woke up to blackness, with the acute sense that I had dreamt the whole thing. I had very vivid dreams that often seemed as though they had actually happened, leaving me with real bruises, and cuts. I shivered. I preferred not to relive those instances. But this was very real. I knew it. I felt it in my squashed bones.
"NO!"
suddenly shouted out from a little way away. I started, and jumped to my feet, ready to investigate, if necessary. I heard a few more shouts that sounded strangely familiar. Trent's voice. I realized, then stiffened. Trent.
Why had he knocked me unconscious? Why was he here? Why was I here, more importantly. I stretched out my limbs, and muscles, hearing a few cracks, when I rolled my neck, and stretched out my back. I heard more shouts, and I was aware of the problem again. Then a clattering of glass. Trent burst into the room, heaving his chest, looking around frantically. I looked at him, hopefully glaring daggers.
"Alice! I love you, dear sweet Alice. I will tell your Cynthia what happened to you. I promise, she will know. " I was so taken aback I forgot my manners.
"You don't even know me!" I cried.
"I know more than you do. I am a vampire Alice. You may not know this, but vampires can have extra powers. My extra power, is that just by looking into someone's eyes, I can know nearly everything about them. I know their essence, I suppose you would say. So, when I saw you, I realized you were not insane, and you were stunningly good, and stunningly beautiful. I love you Alice."
He came toward me, and kissed me furiously. I was immediately frozen. His skin was cold, very cold, and then the kissing! How utterly inappropriate! He barely knew me! He claimed all these things, but I had a strong feeling he was an escapee from the asylum. I tried to pull away, but he was clinging to me, and he was a thousand times stronger than I could ever hope to become. He pulled his face back a few inches, looked at me with RED eyes, which was not the strangest occurrence, and shook his head, yes, causing his hair to bounce slightly.
I gasped. He suddenly took on a quality I had never seen before. It was a slight mix of hunger, or even thirst and passion. A deep passion. Then, he reached his mouth down to my neck, and bit. Sharp pain ran through my neck to my entire body as I was engulfed in fire. It took up every part of me, from the very tips of my fingers, working it's way into every taste bud, every hair, every particle that made up who I was, was suddenly, and unbelievably on fire. It stayed like this. I was screaming in agony the entire time. I couldn't tell if hours had passed, days, weeks, months, years... It was all a blur to me. I was so wrapped up in this horrible fire, that I felt that death, or even the asylum would be welcome afterwards. I would gladly eat ten million puky dinners.
I wished I was eating a puky dinner right now. How I wish I was. I tried to stop the pain by thinking about other things, but the other things were either horrible as well, or not enough to get me to stop thinking about this horrible, awful pain in my throat. that was where it was coming down to. I could feel a little tingle in my fingers.
the pain was dulling, but in my throat was the sensation of strep throat, multiplied by hundreds of times. It almost felt like a craving. I focused on what I wanted. I nearly vomited, and cried all at the same time when I realized that what I wanted seemed to be inside of me. Something told me it would all be gone soon, but I couldn't get a good enough grip on myelf to retrieve it. It was my own blood.
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AN: So when alice talks about wanting her own blood remember, that she still has a little blood left, because the change hasn't been completed yet! I hope you liked the first chapter. the other chappys will be longer, i promise, but I just wanted to get this out there!