Author's Note: My first try at Twilight fan-fiction based on the books and movies with a twist.
Chapter 1
He knew his whole human life had dissipated right before his eyes the moment she changed him. His spirit and his body, the key factors that made him human, were gone in a blink. The love and fondness for everyone he knew - also turned nonexistent. He was no longer prone to overwhelming pathetic distractions, such as feelings, anymore.
He had worried friends and family waiting for their missing boy to come home, to be home. They waited for the same student and friend who had a kind and giving personality that everybody loved, who helped people in various situations - the "pretty boy" who his parents could not wish for anything more besides having their beloved only child sitting on the couch, telling them comedic stories and jokes from school. Those unfortunate souls grieved and endured the sudden loss of a young man that used to love them all the same - son and friend. Riley Biers died so long ago.
Victoria, his beautiful love and light, transformed Riley entirely from inside out, physically and mentally, in a bite. Her flaming red hair danced like fire; twinkling scarlet eyes and the playful smirk he so very much loved always made their way onto her face; she gave those feather-light kisses, almost - just almost - as if she was hesitant to give into their love. Riley adored the angelic, child-like tone of Victoria's voice, calling out only to him. She made him into who and what he was now. Victoria forced him to see what the world was and discover the hidden creatures beneath it - creatures like themselves.
In that one fateful night Riley first laid eyes on her, he felt himself trembling and idolizing his fiery soon-to-be lover. She stalked and teased him, all the while toying with his fragile human life. How could a monster be so beautiful and cruel at the same time? "I'll take good care of you, dear." It was the first time said boy heard the chiming bells in her voice - ringing like Heaven itself - and he had one hell of a change in nearly three days.
Victoria took a bite at Riley; the venom flowed through the veins and arteries, poisoning his very mind and body. He still remembered the unfamiliar excruciating process that led him to being a vampire. It was like having fire impossibly dismembering the body by peeling off the flesh and crushing the bones... slowly. Then, the same burning sensation stitched the ruined body back; Riley couldn't breathe, feeling like someone had just ripped his lungs. He never knew fire would hurt this much. From all of what he went throughout his life (including his human role), the change into a vampire was very most spiteful and one he'd rather chance with broken arms, legs, and ribs.
Riley knew the transformation seared off several of his human memories; every attempt at recollection proved to be a failure or small bundles of muddy pictures. He could only recall names of his parents, grandparents, and a few of his closest friends. He remembered painfully enough of what had happened the night Victoria changed him. He sometimes shuddered at the concept of so much fire when no one looked his way.
But, it was worth the benefits he was given. The stone cold skin that glistens in sunlight protected Riley from harm; the ultimate strength and heightened senses that he prided himself with were god-like. The vampire even smirked when his demonic red eyes and stark white teeth scared the living crap out of every person. A bestial character grew within Riley each day, hungering for more blood after each meal... along with his undying servitude and affection for his Victoria.
Anything for my sweet Victoria, Riley would remind himself, even if it were worth my life. She's given me what I've never dreamt of. She's my creator... my adulation... my love.
The one thing that made him uncomfortable at most was that there were the lingering emotions from his past life, including remorse. The first time he hunted his meals (with Victoria by his side, of course), he couldn't imagine how sweet a simple human could smell within a breadth. How fascinating his hunger and thirst reached at their uncontrollable peak, how hot and so soothing blood could sate him, and how guilty he had been after his seven kills. Many months took that horrible feeling away. Riley turned deaf to the rippling, screaming sounds of humans and concentrated on the food only. The restrained anger from his past helped him in several situations, mostly involving the newborns.
A thunderous weather came up ahead. Rain droplets fell from the dark, stormy night sky and pattered against the ground of the city Seattle. The blond vampire was sent to collect both his and Victoria's food. The other thickheaded newborns that were all infected by Victoria lingered near the industrial docks or hunted in the poor living areas of Seattle, where numerous dregs hid.
No doubt they're tearing those places up, thinking I'm stupid enough to not know that. They can't even listen to one single rule - just one obvious, simple rule - that doesn't blow our cover! Riley ranted silently. Each time, I'm looking out for them. I'm cleaning out their trash. Each time, they almost got caught. I'm the one doing something about it. Each freakin' time, they disobey me, and I had to rip them to pieces. Why can't I just take a break from all this crap? Oh, that's right! Because I'm a vampire.
Those newbies were damn lucky to even be alive after Victoria transformed them all. Usually, they talk about something, disagree and argue with each other, and get into fight about their conversation. Somebody rips someone's arm or leg and tries to burn the body part with the few remaining hidden matches in the house. The injured vampire would turn even more physical to regain his or her limb. Riley comes in and somehow "saves" the day by shouting and tearing them apart. He would lecture everybody present in the room and return to whatever he was doing. Every day was like this. All in all, being a vampire sucks.
At least the newborns knew not to mess with him while he's hunting after what had happened last month. Some junkie vamp thought Riley shouldn't be their leader and decided to take him down with three of his newly-changed friends. They tracked him to where he was hunting and jumped on him. In less than fifty seconds, Riley was left standing and later ripped arms off anyone who dared crawled in his way.
Tonight, Riley chose to hunt near Seattle's more noticeable areas after he dropped off Victoria's meal next to her place, knowing she could smell the blood of the unfortunate drunk taxi driver and the unconscious prostitute, and left a note saying he's hunting by himself. It was hard to find food to challenge or to play within the outskirts of the city. Ill from the sour, bitter blood he fed on the last few weeks, Riley decided he needed a little refreshment... but not without any fun.
Unknown to the additional vampires that Victoria created, Riley was an exception when it came to chasing meals. He's smart, precarious, and should know how to clean his plate. Darling Victoria trusted him enough not to do anything asinine that would alert the local authorities.
Like I really wanted to, he snorted.
On the edge of the roof, Riley shut his eyes and savored the feeling of lukewarm water running down his self, cleansing the weekly troubling thoughts off his mind - like a good wash after sports. The nostalgic essence emanated into Riley's mind, but it was long forgotten. Being a vampire, almost everything was a few degrees warmer than him. Smirking, he asked himself the idea of ice cream literally being much tepid than a vampire.
The blond vampire inhaled the scent of the cold weather mixed with the warm odor of the pulsating blood belonging to the few unsuspecting citizens that started to decrease in numbers below him. Obviously, they were afraid of the recent murders happening in Seattle. Missing people all over town, leftover severed body parts, and "car accidents" happening in the slums. He could smell immense fear radiating from the humans… and it fueled his hungry beast's eagerness for blood.
Riley's throat smoldered like blazes licking the internal tissue of his neck when he thought it couldn't get even more inflamed. His stomach seemed to empty out whatever contents left in there for a certain warm thick liquid to fill it up. Venom pooled in his mouth as he drooled at the beautiful rhythmic sounds of heartbeats and pulses. His mind turned off and let the hunter's instincts take over. Riley finally released a low guttural sound, deep from within his chest, to emphasize his hunger and opened his coal black eyes to the hunt.
Let's get it on.
It was so stupid to leave the house, to leave the city in the middle of a rainy night; especially with the death toll rising in Seattle, it was incredibly risky. Who knows what lurks in the dark crevices of the night? Druggies, drunks, psychopathic murderers, rapists. No. There's no need for paranoia to kick in and ruin her day.
Focus, focus, she mentally slapped herself. You're free.
This was worth it, drenched in cold rainwater. It was worth the hell she has spent all her life searching for… to have freedom all around her. The feel of fresh rain and the scent of crisp air churned her gleefulness of being liberated. Not flinching at every touch and no one to bug her felt so right.
She can't stand how everybody treated her like shoes trampling across a floor mat. The teasing, taunting, and the picking - she can't take the whispers anymore. They called her a "loner", a "poor girl", the "girl with the abusive dad", or what everybody yells at her most often: a "nobody". The fifteen-year-old didn't do anything to provoke them and didn't understand why they bullied her. She could partly comprehend why the students at school loved her to be a victim of injustice jeering; her receiving straight A's and owning little money shouldn't be that personal to them. It's not their problem to worry about. She had nothing to do for herself at home except to read and study borrowed books from a library.
To make cash, she worked at the said library and a greasy burger joint. The library was a place she mostly preferred to call "home". The pay wasn't bad at all for eight to ten bucks an hour. The library's mysteriously always short on staff and was glad to take in some helpers. People there stuck their noses into the books that they don't care about anyone around them, except other than the universe they're reading.
Books helped her to escape reality at times of urgency. In figural terms, they were her friends - her only companions. She didn't bother the shaggy pages or the weathered cover, but the story within. It amazed her how a single person could weave an entire world to only be disclosed to reality in paper and pen.
You know what they say: "The pen is mightier than the sword."
Indeed it is. It proved to be better than spilled soda and oily food seeping into my shirt, the young girl scoffed.
Her dad was a different matter. Whenever he comes home drunk from work, he ransacks the whole house for money and beats his daughter for unfathomable reasons. A few hours later, he goes out to gamble again and drinks more booze. Sometimes, her father returns to his house back from work early and abuse her just for entertainment. His stank breath revolted the girl so much that she had to gulp the rising bile back down her throat. Each beating worsens and worsens until it haunted her dreams all the time. The girl cleverly covered up the bruises and cuts with large clothing and sunglasses; not many questioned her shady appearances at school.
Every night, she wished for her affectionate mother to come back and defend her. The warm chocolate scent, soft tresses of brown hair, and her mom's soft, unblemished hands seemed so comforting. Without her beloved mother protecting and standing up for her, she was nothing but a rag doll to her father. She had to face the harsh reality life has given her.
No… no more. Bree Tanner was not a bag anybody could punch or a child they could terrorize. She's not a nobody or a Tanner any longer. She's just Bree, a fifteen-year-old girl who's simply running away to live up to her freedom. She had to leave this place at all costs. It was time to go anywhere but Seattle.
Bree packed all her clothing, toiletries, and books - anything she owned in her cramp room - in a ragged backpack. She stashed her hard-earned money into her wallet from her secret storage (in the mattress, next to a bent metal spring) and kept the rest of her valuables in the bag.
Bree ripped out a picture of her mother and stored it in her pocket, ensuring herself that it was safe. She was relieved her father was not here to see this. The very utter of her mother's name in front of him cost Bree a rough backhand to her face.
The next minute, she ran... ran away from the dump called "home"... ran away from the place, the dark times, the ones that caused her vivid nightmares... ran away from hell... to wherever life leads her.
Bree smiled genuinely for the first time in eight years since her mother left. She raised her arms up, faced the droplets of rain splashing on her body, and twirled around, softly giggling at the predicament like she was a little kid again. Only she was in control of her life. Yes, it was good to be free.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she realized her whole body soaked wet and shivered violently from the freezing water that continued to fall from the sky. She realized it's already been about two hours since she left the house, and she was the only person stranded in the streets. The temperature dropped lower each minute as she jogged on. Her breath was visible as a small white fog. She needs to find shelter, or else she'll soon catch a cold.
Suddenly, icy chills crawled into her spine; Bree froze and stood rigidly, her erratic breath caught in her suddenly constricted throat. Her human instincts alerted her of an unknown presence - a creature that watched and followed her every movement. Despite the dense rainfall and the black night's shade, she searched every area visible from her spot - not that it's much. The dim-lit street lamps on both sides of the slick wet road didn't do much help either. She paced her steps to a quick rhythm…
One-two-three… one-two-three…
Bree ran through possible reasons why a person's stalking her. She knew she didn't have much money - well, maybe several hundred bucks saved up to get her to Portland or California - but she doesn't look one from a wealthy family, let alone act like it. Maybe this stalker wants more than money. Bree shuddered at the thought of it, regardless of her present trembles caused by the cold climate. She only has a few jabs and kicks to defend herself… then the next option was to sprint as fast as she could with the person down.
No, she's probably just overreacting. There's no one here. It's only the street lamps, the black road, and her. Nothing else.
Calm down, Bree. It's just nothing. Who's here anyway? It's not like there's someone following you. What've you gotta lose? The girl took deep breaths and composed herself to keep walking.
One-two-three-one-two-three…
Almost unnoticed, the unknown being rushed behind her.
Turning around, Bree frantically glanced around for the source of the noise and tightly grabbed onto the straps of her doused bag. The girl gasped out, "H-h-hello?"
Again, the same shadow flew across her back… and again, when Bree tossed her head to the other direction. It continued for another three times, the silhouette blurred as it sped rapidly; she found out that the figure was somewhat circling her.
Bree twisted her stance to the whooshing sound, only to have the creature going past her sight too swift to see through human eyes. She began to hyperventilate as she unwillingly grasped the fact that her stalker was clearly inhuman and has the speed of probably over a hundred miles.
"Please stop," she whispered softly.
Acting out the best possible solution to her, Bree dashed towards the end of the street; her feet loudly splashing on huge puddles, her back aching from the bumping of her backpack. All she could think about was running to the end of the road for safety.
One-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three…
As Bree tried to glimpse behind, she slammed into a solid wall and fell down onto the inch-flooded asphalt. Her thin skater gloves ripped open on impact, rocks cutting into the palms of her hands. Bree felt her back would show large bruises the next day, and the stinging in her hands was throbbing. Momentarily dazed, the girl crept away from the unexpected wall, going over how it happened to be there. It's not probable; no wall stood in her sight. There was nothing on the desolate street that stood except her and the creature… the creature!
It grabbed hold of her coat and threw her against a brick wall, hard enough to knock her out.
Fretfully, Bree stood up with dull thumping around her most painful areas and spun everywhere to see if anyone was visible. Black spots threatened to fill her sight. The heart and lungs in her chest were threatening to explode from the reckless actions she took and the cruel suspense that was given. Bree clutched her head with one hand and the other onto the jagged bricks behind to support herself. Her heartbeat filled her ears.
One-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three…
She felt a warm wetness in the back of her head where it hurts the most. Oh, no.
Trembling hands gently pulled out from her neck, to be covered in an all too familiar liquid. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening! It can't!
Bree took three breaths to fill her lungs; she can't take this any longer.
One… two… three…
Then, she froze, droplets of water distorting her vision. There was something - no - someone under a street lamp across her. It was a boy, she could make out. He disappeared…
And, he returned in sight unmistakably in front of Bree. The said girl, right then and there, caught her breath.
The boy, a few years older and about a foot taller than her, was unbelievably handsome. His dirty blond hair sagged with water, his pale skin seemed to gleam from the light that illuminated from the street lamps; the chiseled form of his face defined his muscular form. The smirk plastered on his mouth as his perfect white teeth shone like the moon itself. His glinting eyes - the color of blood-red rubies - alarmed Bree the most. No one had eyes like that; it's abnormal. The boy's physical features all put together, appeared… inhuman.
Bree discovered he was the stalker.
She slowly stepped away from the boy to avoid him at all expenses.
One… two… three…
In just a second, strong rock-hard arms gripped Bree from behind, enough to effectively restrain her from making any movements to escape. She didn't struggle for she knew that her confinement was too strong to resist; in fact, strength like that was too powerful for her captor's age. There was no point in screaming for help as he clasped his freezing hand over Bree's mouth - if there was anyone around to stop this madness.
Bree couldn't understand what was happening now; the situation turned more abstruse by the second. It was beyond anything she could mentally grasp. The boy smelled her while he ran his ice-cold fingers around her neck, creating even more goose bumps on her skin. Bree felt the curve of his nose trailing along the other side of the neck, him inhaling her scent. She tried to take in deep breaths through the hand grounded on her mouth to calm herself. But, being the victim, how can she ever be calm?
One-two-three-one-two-three…
Without warning, her captor sank his razor-sharp teeth in to her skin like a hot blade slicing through butter. Bree wheezed out in agonizing pain and numbness as she felt him incise her neck into the blood vessels then sap the warm red liquid from that part.
So, this is it. This was how she was going to die, how her life would easily fade away, how pathetic her death would end this path… her moment of freedom ruined by an attractive beast with superhuman reflexes that could kill her within a single snap of her neck. Tears welled up in her dark brown eyes, the pouring raindrops combining with the salty water. Her mind anticipated the unfortunate fate she would go by, as her depleting heart, which had endured the never-ending frightening tension of this night, thumped weakly against her ribcage.
One… two… three… one… two… three…
What happened afterwards was indescribable.
One… two… three…
Three people he killed so far, three people that were not as much fun or challenging as he thought. He's very disappointed in the outcomes of his evening.
The first victim was a screamer - a grown man. The person owned a 24-hour burger joint that had a few sleepy customers. He was pudgy, but not too short as a midget. The owner left his shop and sauntered to his barely standing '72 blue Chevy. Right when the man opened his car door, the hunter reached out and grabbed his thick neck, choking his prey as he tried to scream. The drinking process wasn't as easy as sucking the blood out of a druggie. The owner's neck was filled with fat, so it took about two seconds to find the right artery.
The second human turned out to be a woman coming home late from work. All in her business attire, walking tall, chin up, as she used her bag for rain cover. He knew the type; always confident in everything they do but sacrificial when it came to the pursuit of their future, which had cost them their families and friends. It sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. When he clutched her stick-thin neck, the frightened woman amused him by begging for her life, offering anything she has to the hunter. He smirked as he placed his lips on that bony neck of hers and hauntingly whispered, "Your blood."
There goes the third - a boy wandering around the empty streets when he was supposed to be sleeping. The hunter followed him returning from a late night party filled with canned beer, hot babes, and broken objects. The prey, however, was one of the few who wasn't intoxicated or at least hadn't hooked up with some chick. Disappointment and sadness filled his nose. This was an interesting spectacle. The boy - a college freshman - had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend, the whiny blond wench who wanted to get wasted and get knocked up. The prey was deeply hurt by the girl's antics. Everybody knows life's not fair. The hunter drank his untainted blood and savored it. This boy's life tasted good and healthy though.
It's funny about the different methods people use to scream. There were the earsplitting shrieks women often use, outrageous grunts coming from men, childish whimpers both gender create, and that hideous noise in between a moan and a groan. It's just plain annoying.
The hunter darkly chuckled in thought, How does the world work these days? He shook his head as he trashed and lit the bodies in a dump, knowing his flammable venom would erase the evidence.
A melodious giggle came out of nowhere and stood out from the continuous rush of cars, chatter of noisy humans, the pounding rain, and fizzing lights that hung on the ceiling of the building next to him. It sounded of joy, relief, and comfort… Who takes comfort in a freaking weather like this?
Riley closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound, trying to trace where it was. Not far, just about sixteen or twenty blocks from here. He leaped onto the slick rooftops and sped towards the giggle.
Thrum… thrum… thrum…
His ears perked up at the mysterious noise as his nose gained a lingering warm scent. Riley unknowingly eased at the noise and the smell, his body less tense and the hunting instincts toned down a little.
While he inhaled and listened once more, it brought about reminiscence from his human life. Riley sensed a warm place with family and friends forgotten; the tip of his nose full of Mom's loitering kisses, him embracing Dad's fond hugs, his many friends' kind gestures of pats on the backs and greeting him with their own handshakes. The pictures, though, were very blurry; it was like seeing through thick sewer water.
Riley shook out of his nostalgic reverie and growled deeply. It was the first time Riley had a long glimpse at his previous human memories. No one gets to him like that, not even Victoria. The earlier life of Riley Biers was gone, and he intended it to stay that way.
Nearing to the unknown source, Riley began to decipher the thrumming sound as a heartbeat. The vampire was relieved when it belonged to a human; it should be easy to kill him or her. But the sound…
That's unusual. I've never heard of such a... soft rhythm before. A heart should go "ba-bump, ba-bump", not "thrum-thrum". Riley scoured the roofs once more and looked down on the streets.
There he saw a hooded girl a few years younger than his nineteen years - fifteen, no more and no less. Scanning through the dense rain, Riley saw she had waist-length locks of wavy dark hair clinging onto her ripped wet overcoat at her front. Her round face gave a sense of maturity - the pursed lips and the thinning of baby cheeks. She's going to grow out of that cuteness someday and bloom into a beautiful woman.
Unfortunately, Riley was still in the mood for dinner… and playfulness.
The blond vampire took a whiff of her scent and growled at his hunger. She's definitely one hell of a tempting human. Her blood does not smell too sweet for his senses to override his system, but it called to him very strongly as the blood itself was only meant for him.
Like a beautiful siren singing to her love-struck sailor, Riley compared.
Riley observed his victim for a few more minutes before the beast within had declared enough. The primal feelings festered, making the blond slip his control.
It's now or never, the beast snarled.
Let the games begin.