Shadow Child Chapter 1: Vigilante, a twilight fanfic

Disclaimer: While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Dr Evans are not to be regarded as authoritative.

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A/N: This is a companion to my story "Hobo Trail." It is not absolutely necessary to read that one first, but if you don't, you may feel as if I skipped something when you reach the end of this one. Barbie

Chapter One: Vigilante

1930s

Edward

I crouched on the rooftop, listening to the thoughts of my latest target.

I was hunting in a city other than St Paul; I hadn't wanted to be in range of Carlisle and Esme's accusing thoughts; to have Carlisle come across evidence of my kills. I had lost track of the number of cities I had hunted in since leaving Carlisle and Esme; they were all alike to me.

I thought of myself as a kind of roving dark angel, leaving each city a little safer than I had found it. I was doing mankind a service…I was.

But always in the hours after a kill, Carlisle's golden eyes appeared in my mind, accusing me; I hated the sight of my own red-eyed reflection.

Of course, Carlisle had set an impossible standard, and should never have expected anyone else to live up to it. Even the night he bit Esme, his eyes proved he hadn't swallowed more than absolutely necessary. I think something had snapped for me then. He was a paragon, an aberration; there was something that set him apart, and he was foolishly deluded to think it was a choice any of us could make. I hoped for his sake Esme would prove strong enough, but I had had enough.

I forced my attention back to my victim's thoughts; listening to such corrupt minds banished Carlisle's accusing eyes for a while. If he could hear the depth of human depravity the way I could, surely even he would agree the world was well rid of such scum.

The man had stumbled home drunk, his mind full of his latest "conquest"; he little knew he was writing his own death sentence.

In the beginning, I had killed only murderers and rapists…a life for a life. But then I had started anticipating, taking those who planned to commit murder or rape. After all, wasn't it more noble to save innocent lives than to merely avenge them?

Now I had added abusers to my list of those deemed worthy of death; who knew when they might take it too far and kill their victims?

My current quarry lay sleeping now, passed out drunk in his bed. It would be easy to slip in and take him now, without him even realizing what was happening…but such a death would be too easy. I liked my victims to see what was coming, to know they had brought this end on themselves by their sins. So I would wait here until morning, wait until he was awake and sober and his death would be justice and not merely satisfaction of my burning thirst.

But on this night, my justice was stolen from me. In the dark hour just before dawn, the man's heart gave out and he died without my touching him.

As I realized he was dead, I snarled angrily at being denied my due. He had committed crimes no human was aware of; the relatively peaceful death from alcohol poisoning was too good for him. He had been mine; mine by rights. I hissed a string of profanity, feeling even God had had no right to deny me my justice.

And then as the sun rose, I heard the first waking thoughts of the other occupant of the house.

I had known she was there, of course; the man's eight-year-old niece. Thirsty as I was, she would never have been in any danger; my control was sufficient to leave alone those I did not deem worthy of my particular brand of justice. Little Shady was an innocent; and, anyway, I had never considered condemning to death even the basest bully of a child.

Shady didn't think it odd at first that her uncle was still asleep; it was no unusual thing for him to rise late after a night of drunken revelry. But finally she grew concerned and went to see if he was awake.

Even from the doorway, she sensed something wrong, and hesitated. "Uncle Benny? Uncle Benny!" Running to the bed, she shook him violently, already knowing the truth with a wisdom beyond her years.

Then as her efforts to wake him failed, she flung herself on him, sobbing violently. I watched amazed as memories played through her mind, memories of a man completely different than the one I had sentenced to death.

Suddenly, I knew I would forever be grateful that I had not been the one to take him from her. What had ever made me think I had the right to play judge and jury; to determine when a man's misdeeds so outweighed his good that he was worthy of death? Had I continued down that path, I soon would have found no human innocent enough to live.

Next chapter next week!

I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!

Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. (I also have a chronological list of my stories, so you can see where they fall on my timeline.) Thanks for your understanding! Barbie