Author's Note:
I needed to write a dark evil story. This is what I got.
Disclaimer 1: I don't own Twilight, its characters or its plot lines; Stephanie Meyer does.
Disclaimer 2: I don't own the song "Mama" that belongs to the amazing band My Chemical Romance.
The Descent to Insanity
Mama, we all go to hell.
Vampires are the greatest of evil; I know this because I am one. I've felt the burning urge of blood, have acted upon it, and have taken the lives of so many people because of it. At times, I can't stand myself, the beast who has killed time and time again. I've spent nights crying dry tears from the ache of a heart that will never beat.
But after this period, there is a time where I realize that some deaths were worth it. Some humans don't deserve to live. It is the blood of those people that I can still taste on my lips, can still savor the feelings of their suffering, remember their terrified faces…and smile.
Then I begin to laugh, for my mind always drifts to my mother; the woman who took my life from me, who made me this worthless monster. When I think of killing her, I feel no remorse. Instead, I find myself flashing back to the war, my death, and the brutal murder of a person who didn't deserve to be called a parent…
Mama, we all go to hell.
Guns go off all around me, the cries of fallen soldiers ringing in the air like a sick song. I'm shivering, my hand wandering over the blood spewing wound caused by a bullet to the chest. And all I can think is that I don't want to die. I'm only nineteen years old…I've barely begun to live.
My mother made me go to war, I never wanted too. My head was stuck in a cloud of dreams, of exploration and discovery, not death and destruction. I didn't want to murder.
Mother told me that if I didn't fight that she would never speak to me again, that disown me and I would no longer be her son. With her being the only family I had left… I couldn't let that happen.
So now I lay here dying, blood dripping all over my uniform, and slowly losing my life. My heart had already begun to beat slower than it should, it wouldn't be long till it stopped completely.
Beat-Beat-Beat-Beat-Beat
I was suddenly woozy, spinning in a world of blood and killing. My feet couldn't support my weight anymore and I collapsed to the ground. People were rushing past me, guns going off everywhere, but I couldn't focus on the sound. All I can think about is my mother, and the hatred she must have felt for me to send me to this forsaken place.
Beat-Beat-Beat-Beat
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well.
Mama, we all go to hell.
Did she ever even love me at all? I knew she was a little tougher on me growing up, I got more lashings than any of the other kids, but she always told me she did it out of love. Now I don't think she ever cared for me at all. Why else would she have set me to a place where I was sure to die?
Beat-Beat-Beat
Oh well now, Mama we're all gonna die.
Mama we're all gonna die.
A man is gripping onto the front of my shirt, pulling me toward him. I force my eyes open just a bit. He's unnaturally pale with black eyes that seem to be devouring my soul. The dark is consuming my vision; my breathing is slowing down as well as my heart.
Beat-Beat
I faintly hear his voice but I can't make out the words. He quiets again and all I can hear is my own breathing. Then a fire spreads from my neck to my toes. I begin to shake as I wither in pain on the ground. Tears sprout from my eyes. It hurts. It hurts too much. I'm screaming for help but no one is going to help. I'm a dead man.
Beat
My heart beats one last time, before its silent forever. The world goes dark.
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry,
Mama we're all gonna die.
I awake from the last slumber I will ever have. All I can focus on is the fire that is consuming my throat, the unfamiliar burn. I lift up my hands and notice how unnaturally pale they are, not like my farmer's tanned skin at all, and the light that is gleaming from them. My eyes wander to a stream and I crawl over to it. It is here that I see my reflection.
My bright blue eyes are now as black as the night, my front teeth have been replaced with sharp fangs, and my skin is now intensely white. A scar has begun to form on the side of my neck, reminding me of my intense thirst. My pale hands scoop up some of the sparkling blue water and I take a big gulp.
It's nasty and I immediately spit it out. It does nothing for my thirst. I find myself gagging, trying to get out every bit of the horrible liquid.
"That won't do any good to you anymore." My head whips around to stare at a man with black hair clinging to his face, his skin just as pale as mine.
"Please, help me. It burns."
"Come with me," he beckons. I find myself at his side in seconds and marvel at my speed. But then my throat aches again.
We walk in silence for a while, for all I can focus on is the burning in my throat. He led me to an abandoned stable, covered in cob webs. My senses went crazy as the sweetest of smells filled my nose and suddenly I couldn't control myself…
I needed it.
The urge was too extreme and I find myself pouncing toward the stable, nothing but my blind thirst to guide me. I stopped when I saw what was calling towards me.
A woman, no older than 30, lay there moaning; her hands chained to the wall. Blood was all over her…and that was enough for me. I jumped on top of her and bit into her neck, where a nice plump vein was waiting for me. She was screaming but I couldn't help myself. This sweet liquid was calling to me.
And when we go don't blame it on us,
We let the fires just bathe us.
My new fangs ripped at the skin of her throat, sucking on the sweet juice. She tried to resist, shoving me away, but my fingers were gripping tight on her waist, ripping into her skin. My tongue lapped up every last drop of the red solution.
I dropped her dead carcass to the ground. A new hole was in the side of her neck, her body covered in blood. Long, deep claw marks were all over her abdomen. I could still feel the blood on my upper lip and I licked it clean. It wasn't until then that I had realized what I had done…
You made us oh so famous,
We'll never let you go.
I begin to shudder in fear of the new monster that lay inside of my body. With shaking hands, I reached out to the dead body in front of me. A poor innocent creature, which had done me no wrong, was now dead; and all because I couldn't contain myself.
But oh it tasted so good.
I wanted more. I needed more. It was the only thought in my mind. I couldn't resist having that savory liquid in my mouth once again…
"Are you satisfied?" the mystery man behind me questions.
"No, not even close." A sickly grin crosses his lips.
"There's more where that came from."
Blood became my only reason for living. I was addicted to the delicious fluid that ran inside human flesh. But as it continued, something else, an evil emotion, began to stir inside of my soul. It was mostly about the blood…but the feeling that I received from them, was also fueling my madness. I could suck up every emotion and could create any one inside of them. Their fear became like a drug, I thrived off of it.
Sometimes I experimented. I would send a wave of calm, just to see how I liked it. It wasn't the same. When they were scared…they pleaded and begged. You could feel their heart race as you got nearer and nearer….you could toy with them…and their heart would stop…and only when they were truly and completely frightened would you end their misery.
My youngest kill was eight years old. Peter, my mysterious creator, had brought him to me. Before it was strictly criminals and woman of impure stature, but Peter had decided it was time to move onto more innocent souls.
He's one of the ones I regret. He wasn't like the others. The little boy, he tried to brave, and even with tears running down his cheeks he still wouldn't admit he was afraid. I could feel it; his fear, he reeked of it, but he still tried to appear strong. I made his death as painless as possible.
But afterword, I felt dirty. For the first time, I didn't get the rush, and his blood didn't cure the burn. I was scared. I had never thought of what I was doing until this moment; had never paid attention to the fact that I was a murderer.
And when you go,
don't return to me my love
I hadn't asked to be this soulless demon. I wanted to be an explorer, not go into the army. It was my mother. It was all the doing of a wretched woman. She had made me this horrible creature. She had taken my life away. She cursed me to be this horrible thing for the rest of my existence.
And for that, she had to pay.
Mama, we're all full of lies.
Mama, we're meant for the flies.
I was standing outside my old home, peering in at her through the window. The coldhearted woman was smiling…smiling. Not two days ago she had received a letter announcing my death. And she was smiling.
I'd make that grin disappear.
She turned around and saw me through the window. Mother dearest stopped dead in her tracks and put a hand to her mouth. I made my entrance through the front door.
"Hello Mother," I said, my voice dripping with the utmost hatred.
"Jasper…" Disbelief is the only emotion I can detect, not happiness like it should be.
"What? Not happy to see me?" A grin slips across my face.
"You're eyes…their…" She's scared. Good.
"Red. I know."
She tries to put on a fake smile. "Son, I'm so happy you're alive." She lifts up her arms to give me a hug, but I flash my pointy teeth instead. Her hands fall to her sides instantly.
"That's the thing Mama, I'm not alive. In fact, I'm very much dead." Shock, confusion, terror, all these emotions radiate off her body. "But I came to pay you a visit."
She looks near to tears; a devious smile crosses my lips. "That's not possible."
"Oh but it is. You sent me to war mother and I didn't want to go. But you made me…and I got shot. You know, as I lay dying, all I could about was…well, you. How much I hated you." A gasp escapes her lips. "This man and I use that term loosely, took pity on me, more than you did for sure, and made me apart of his species. I'm undead now Mama…and my sole purpose in this afterlife… is too make sure you feel the same pain I did."
And right now, their building a coffin your size.
Mama, we're all full of lies.
"Please, I'm but an old woman." She doesn't even try to deny it, that she hates me. Rage consumes me.
"Well you won't be one for much longer…" I take a step toward her. I'll take my time with her, the woman who condemned me. She doesn't think I notice, but she snatches a knife from the table.
"I don't want to hurt you," Mama Hisses, holding up the knife to show me, "but I swear I'll do it."
I take another step forward.
Well Mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue,
You should've raise a baby girl,
I should have been a better son.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do this Mama, to repay you for all the years of abuse." She's truly terrified now. I can hear her heart beating in an unhealthy rate inside her chest.
"Jasper, please don't do this, of course I love you."
The lie was what set me off.
If you coddle the infection,
They can amputate at once.
You should have been,
I could have been a better son.
A growl escaped from my cold lips and I lunged at her. She didn't have time to react and I held her against the wall. The knife fell to floor, forgotten. She screamed and shuddered against the touch of my cool fingers on her wrists.
"You killed me Mama, you killed me! I was nineteen, Mama, and you killed me." All I could see was red as fury, sadness, and pain blinded my actions. I wanted my life back, my old life. The days spent on the farm, my care free attitude towards life as a child, the fake assumption that my mother loved me…
And when we go don't blame us,
we let the fire just bathe us.
You made us oh, so famous,
we'll never let you go.
She didn't say a word as I screamed at her, called her evil names, and let all my built up feelings out. Tears fell freely down her cheeks as she became sad, a complete and utter sadness that seemed to match mine. She wouldn't look me in the eyes, only past my head.
I wanted her to look at me, to see what she had done, to see the beast that had consumed her son.
When I finished talking, her heart began to race in her chest, her lips parted and she whispered the words…
"You were the worst son a mother could have asked for." Then she got a little bolder as she looked me straight in the eye and yelled "I hope you rot in hell!"
She said: "You ain't no son of mine,
for what you've done there gonna find,
a place for you and just you mind,
your manners when you go.
My hands enclosed around her neck and shoved her against the wall. She screamed.
And when you go,
don't return to me my love."
Her life slowly began to fade away, and soon she began to slump towards the floor. I began to go crazy, laughing maniacally at her suffering. When she was just on the urge of dying, I attached my fangs to the side of her neck. Even though she was near unconsciousness, she still felt it. She was terrified, and my body loved it. I was shaking with the feeling. No blood had tasted as good as hers did.
Mama, we all go to hell.
Her life was in my hands. I felt drunk on the power, on the taste, on the feeling.
Mama, we all go to hell.
In her final moments she called out my name. Over and over again, but she spat the word out as if it was dirty. And I laughed at that too.
It's really quite pleasant,
except for the smell.
Mama, we all go to hell.
And then she was gone.
And I couldn't handle it.
Mama.
Mama.
Mama.
Ohhh.
Mama.
Mama.
Mama.
I called out her name over and over again, holding her lifeless body in my hands. Her eyes were staring up at mine, and if I knew that if I could, I would truly cry, instead of this dry sob that I was currently producing. I missed her.
I missed the woman that would hold me when I was sick.
I missed the woman who would hug me if I had a bad day.
I missed the woman whom I believed to love me unconditionally.
But that woman had turned into something much crueler as she aged. This woman cared about nothing about social status and money. She had been corrupted, just as vampirism had forsaken me.
The woman I killed sent me to war.
The woman I killed didn't cry when I died.
The woman I killed hated her son.
And if you call me your sweetheart,
then I'd might sing you a song.
That's when Jasper left and was fully replaced with a demon. That was when love and happiness were no longer processed as an emotion in this new body's mind. All that this monster cared about was its next meal.
But there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun,
you would cry out your eyes all along.
The memories were what killed off Jasper. He couldn't live with himself, knowing what he had done. He had murdered too many people, had taken too many lives, and had drunk too much blood of innocent souls. It made him/me, whoever this demon is, insane.
We're damned after all,
through fortune and flame we fall.
And if you can stay I'll show you the way,
and return to the ashes you call.
And the memories became all I had.
In the middle of the night, I dream of the people I killed, the people I will kill.
We all carry on.
(We all carry on)
When our brothers in arms are gone.
(When our brothers in arms are gone)
And sometimes I cry silent dry tears.
So raise your glass high for tomorrow,
we die.
And then sometimes I smile and laugh as I remember their dead rotted faces.
And that's when I know I'm insane.
And return to the ashes you call.
And I like it.