Thank you all for such support and awesome reviews! I was so nervous and fretted for WEEKS. I finally had to post to light a fire under my ass.
Thanks to Lts929 and Bethaboo for betawork. To AG for being awesome.
Smeyer owns it. I own the rest.
~*~
Five years.
Two years spent hunting, running, tracking and killing. Murdering. Two years spent attempting to fill the hollowness inside.
Three years.
Three years recovering. Withdrawing. Relearning. Three years putting it all back together again, just to feel partially whole.
Five years since that fateful day in Forks when Isabella Swan and I crossed paths.
One second and my body wanted to tear through the forest and throw away every single day since the first and only time we'd shared space.
My mind was telling me to flee, run back to my house, pack my bags and leave forever.
But we all knew from experience that didn't work.
I could literally feel the void inside, the one I'd stitched up with a temporary thread, unravel and split wide again. Just one whiff, one tiny sniff, and I felt empty.
There was a choice to be made here. And it wasn't the same one as before. Wildly, I shoved a hand into my hair and another onto the bridge of my nose. This could be my redemption. My second chance. This could be the opportunity to do what I should have done first time.
This was the moment I didn't realize I had been waiting for.
My feet began moving, erratically around the forest, trampling leaves and branches and small trees. My hands shook with excitement and indecision. What do I do? What do I do? I thought over and over as I scanned the area with what I could only imagine as wild eyes and actions.
What does one do when presented with the best and worst gift of a lifetime?
I took a deep breath and slowed my feet and focused, deciding to do this the right way. I needed to clear my head. Gain some perspective. I needed to swallow the venom down my throat and ignore the pulsing fire licking at the back of my neck.
I needed to get my shit together before I ruined the opportunity at hand.
Forcing my eyes down, I searched for something to lead me to her. Several feet away, I was able to see the soft imprints of a shoe in the dirt and leaves. Someone's shoes had stripes across the bottom of the soles, causing smudges to appear where they stepped.
'They,' I thought, as though I didn't know who 'they' were.
She had been here, and now, I was going to find her.
I wasn't as good at tracking as I was running, but my skills were still quite impressive.
Squatting over the disturbed area, I saw that she had hesitated for a moment. Her left foot dragged a bit—indecisive—as she wandered the area. When I stood, I noticed a string snagged on a shrub. Purple and bright. I held it to my nose and sniffed lightly.
There was a slight trace of her scent still on the fabric. Narrowing my eyes out of habit, more than need, I scanned the area and found several broken twigs scattered across the ground. Satisfied I had a starting point, I began walking in that direction.
If I had been human, my hands would be shaking. Nerves and excitement exploding under the surface. Like the crackhead looking for a fix or the alcoholic vying for their next drink—a rush of adrenaline burst through my senses, eager and anticipatory. But I was recovering, and held my desires close to the chest. Not sure exactly what I would do when the time came, but also knowing I would do something.
After I killed the cashier, I had changed. I was no longer the soft-spoken boy who excelled in his classes and was polite to his teachers.
I had turned into a cold-blooded killer, unhinged and looking for his next victim. Initially, my tracking abilities were limited. But as time passed, and my need for a specific type of target increased, I became better. Then, once I exiled myself here, surrounded by acres and acres of wilderness, I honed my abilities on animals, learning their patterns and behaviors.
Unfortunately, that meant there was little chance this girl would escape my grasp again. It was only a matter of what I would do with her when I found her.
~*~
I traveled slowly and diligently— getting closer with each step. The wind puffed and her scent wafted from below the next hill, confirming that she was still travelling erratically though the forest. I had a momentary surge of fear that perhaps it wasn't really her. Maybe I was making it up. Maybe I was losing my mind.
I flashed on the image of the dead cashier, drained and draped over the counter and winced—insanity was definitely a possibility.
It really didn't make any sense. Why would Isabella Swan from Forks, Washington be in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina? Why would she be wandering in the woods, away from the marked trails and walking directly towards my home? I tried to rationalize the situation but nothing here was rational.
Why would fate test me in such ways?
I shook off the doubt, because it was too late; it was either her or I had completely gone off the bend. There was nothing left to do, but find out.
I crept silently through the woods, weighing my options, trying to keep my body and my brain in the same place. My mouth, and arms and legs and teeth wanted to be on or in that girl right now so badly, I was almost vibrating from the intensity of my desire.
But even though my body was weak, my mind was still clear. Focused on the lessons I'd struggled so hard to learn. I'd lost so much and gained so little, but what I had was mine. If I took her--killed her--it would have all been for nothing.
I paused and leaned into the peeling bark of a birch tree and waited for her to come over the ridge. She was far enough away she wouldn't spot me, but I would be able to see her clearly.
Panic filled my mind as I waited. Smelling her was one thing, but seeing her would be quite something else entirely. I'd envisioned her over and over in my mind though the years, and had built her up to be my deity. Neither beautiful nor plain she just was…almost divine.
I had searched the world over, and not once had I come across a scent as magnificent as hers.
And then, there was the silence.
This girl had a quirk-- a glitch. Her mind was a steel trap. There were a million times in my life where I had wanted to calm the storm of thought that came my way. Only once had I sat in the quiet of thoughtlessness.
This girl was the exception to my rule, in more ways than one.
I'd spent hours considering this fact. The idea that the one whose blood called to me the most was also the one who held the peace I longed for.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I cocked my head to the air, listening intently, and I could hear her heartbeat under the noises of the forest. She was closer now. I could hear her shuffling footsteps on the leaves covering the forest floor, even though she was half a mile away, but her mind was as deficient as the last time we'd met.
As I waited, at the bottom of the barren tree, I recalled how I'd thought of her countless times since that first day. I'd killed her a thousand different ways in my mind, reliving those first moments, and the ones that could have followed, if I'd chosen differently.
I closed my eyes and imagined the setting. In an instant, I was back there, surrounded by a classroom of children, enthralled by the new girl as much as I was, just not as morbidly. I considered killing her then and there—fast and hard. Plunging my venom-coated teeth into her neck. I plotted luring her behind the school, using my charms to take advantage. I even fantasized of killing her at home, while her father was gone, so I could take my time and relish every second and every drop of her.
But, I had resisted that first time. Could I do it again?
Somehow, the twisted hands of fate were challenging me to do this again.
Her footsteps were getting closer and I opened my eyes, bracing myself for her to emerge over the hill, under the canopy of leafless branches. Excited and nervous, I began scaling the birch, shreds of bark falling to the ground under my eager hands. Snow was coming, it was in the air, along with the conflicting scent freesia that was the taste of the soft, smooth skin exposed to the elements.
Again, I ignored the increased pooling of venom in my mouth and the longing and want in my throat.
I almost gasped when I spotted her head first. Not her head really, more her hat. It was purple and squashed over her brown hair. Long strands spilled from underneath and twisted around her neck and her back, tangled from the wind. Her eyebrows came next. They were furrowed, concentrated on the space above her nose. My hands clung to the tree, my knees bent and my shoes gripping futilely to the sides. I waited for her eyes to lift from the ground, so I could see the color, so I could confirm that it was really, truly her.
I realized I was holding my breath in anticipation, only swallowing the thick liquid that coated my throat. Even though I had known it was her, I couldn't believe she was truly here, in front of me, after all this time. I waited and after what seemed an eternity, her eyes darted around as if looking for something, and I leaned towards her from my perch in the sky to catch them, as they flicked in my direction.
Deep and brown. Soul-filled pools. I recalled seeing my reflection in them, so long ago. I almost lunged from my position, targeting her, pinning her to the ground. I wanted those eyes to stop haunting me. I wanted the fire behind them snuffed out but instead I saw they were rimmed in red, the whites splotchy and pink, and I noted the dry, sticky remains of tears that had seeped down her wind-chapped cheeks.
She had been crying.
I groaned deep and quiet, running my hands into my hair, pulling harshly to make sense of this moment, hoping to inflict pain, so my body would react to reality. Through the murkiness of my hunger addled-brain, I began to see the scenario for what it was or possibly could be.
She was alone, in the middle of the woods. It was getting dark and snow was in the air. It surely would have been forecast. My eyes assessed her small backpack and lack of sleeping bag. Her lightweight coat and mud-stained jeans.
Her eyes were red and her face tear stained.
I realized with a sudden rush the clarity and certainty of the situation.
Isabella Swan was lost.
~*~
The enormity of her situation stunned me. Isabella was lost. Alone. With no one around, with the exception of me. Her hunter, her stalker…her potential killer.
I watched her for a while, as she stopped at an outcropping of rocks to rest. She shifted impatiently on her feet, and I assumed they were tired from her hike. She pushed her stocking cap back when she rubbed her forehead with her purple glove covered hand.
I dug my own uncovered fingers into my pocket and pulled out the string I had discovered earlier.
Zeroing in on her more visible face, I took in her features. She was older—her mortality evident. Her face was narrow, her jaw thin and sharp, her cheekbones high and tight under her flawless skin.
It wasn't the same little girl I left in Forks that day. Isabella had transformed into a woman.
From my perch in the sky I wondered again, how this coincidence could have happened. We were thousands of miles from where we had last left. Surely she had lived her own life, barely aware of my absence at all, our only meeting sixty minutes of hell, five years ago. In a brief panic, I wondered if she hadn't come looking for me. Was she, in fact, tracking me instead?
Ridiculous.
I saw her shrug her pack off her back, and heard it drop to the ground with a soft thud. She struggled with the zipper, her fingers covered with thick wool, but she finally tugged it open, and pulled out a bottle of water and a silver, rectangular package.
I'd stopped moving entirely, as I watched her place the package in her teeth and rip the paper easily, revealing some kind of food that she began to eat slowly and deliberately.
I considered the last time I watched someone eat, and I couldn't really place it. It had been a very long time. My last trip to town had been several weeks ago. But my stops were choreographed exactly. The post office. The book and hardware stores. It was a routine, mostly to keep up appearances, but also out of comfort. I wasn't happy to live my life in exile, but I had no other choice.
The last person like myself that I saw eat was Carlisle, earlier this week when we spent the day hunting. I could only imagine what would have happened if he had been here today, the day Isabella stumbled across my path. I laughed humorously under my breath-- he definitely wouldn't approve of my actions so far.
Or inactions as the case may be.
I had found a wandering human, one I knew was lost, and hadn't helped or redirected her in any way. I hadn't killed her yet either, which I thought would deserve some praise, but that ship hadn't sailed either. The venom was still flowing aggressively down my throat, igniting the fire of thirst.
I frowned at the idea of his disappointment.
Shaking myself free of these thoughts I inhaled from around my shoulder, hoping for a fresh gust of wind-one not carrying the appetizing aroma of girl. Luckily for her, I was successful and caught a gust of Isabella-free air to swallow.
Refocusing, I saw her snack was almost finished. I could tell from the lines on her forehead she was concerned, it was probably all she had, as she had packed light. There was no sleeping bag or larger pack necessary for a longer hike. She had clearly just come out for the day, and, as the day began to wane, I knew I had to make some kind of decision about Isabella's fate. Because, it was clearly in my hands.
The thought gave me a disturbing sense of peace. I could kill her now. It would be so fast and quick. This time, there were no witnesses, no family to fail, no judgments on my weaknesses. No one would know, once I took her, it would be simple. I'd hide the body or even place it where the rangers could find it easily.
Honestly, I considered, killing her may be the kindest thing to do. She wouldn't last more than a night out here. She was far from the trail, so completely lost, it would take any search and rescue team a full day before they came this direction. That is, unless I helped her. Which wasn't really feasible. What would I do? Approach her from the woods and say, Excuse me, you look lost? Can I lead you back to the trail?
In my mind, a fantastical conversation took place, and I could see her thankful for my appearance, not even noticing my too-pale skin and discolored eyes, or the fact I wasn't even wearing a coat. Perhaps, she would even give me a hug, wrap her arms around me and squeeze me tight. I, on the other hand, would encourage it, playing the savior of this girl, patting her reassuringly on the back and once her body was close to mine, I would allow myself one little sniff, just one, and I would drop my nose into her hair and inhale, drawing in the wonderful scent of flowers and human and then—
I popped my eyes wide and surveyed my surroundings. While engrossed in my own fantasies, Bella had put her pack back on and had begun walking again. She fumbled a bit, clearly tired and obviously directionless.
I figured it would only be a matter of hours before she gave up. Then it could be over-one way or the other. She passed over the ridge and dipped from sight, forcing me from my roost in the tree. I jumped down, with a louder than intended thud.
I followed her scent and heartbeat over the hill--keeping a solid distance between us, but probably not as much as it should have been. Her situation and imminent death made me bold. One way or the other, Isabella wasn't making it out of these woods. There was really no reason for me to deny myself. I could let her freeze or waste away on her own. Or I could ease her suffering and pain.
The answer was obvious and sudden relief and excitement washed over me, as I realized my decision had been made. I grinned at myself greedily—and realized with amusement I was actually rubbing my fingers gleefully together like a villain in an old movie.
Yes, I determined, I would kill her. It was easier this way on everyone. My years of misery would be over and her hours of hopelessness would be shortened.
Win—Win.
I began plotting my method, again. Quick and painless? Slow and careful? The choices were overwhelming, and I needed to get my mind wrapped around the idea. There were so many variables. The disposing of her body. My reddened eyes that I would have to hide from Carlisle during our next visit. Alice. Was she watching? Would she see this? She wasn't supposed to keep track. She assured me she never wanted to view my mind or actions again, but was it possible. She often had no more control than I did over my gift. If the family found out, no one would speak to me again…
I found myself lost in thought, only semi-aware of the stumbling girl ahead of me. The wind was picking up, and there were even some swirling flakes of snow falling from the sky. A strong gust of wind blew my hair wildly in the breeze and I stopped, suddenly aware of another sharp, familiar odor.
Panicked, I looked for Isabella and found her easily, purple and bright in the graying day. She was ahead of me still, but her pace slowed, from exhaustion, not care. I absorbed the sound of her sniffing and choking back tears, while my eyes continued to survey the area. I could smell it and hear it coming. The rhythm of its heart bold and strong, its nostrils flaring and grunting, as he also took in the smell of my prey.
And just like that, it was no longer just me hunting this girl alone in the woods. I now had competition.
I flicked my eyes back towards her. She was frozen in her spot. Aware now that she wasn't alone. She still hadn't seen me. But she did see him.
And he was deadly.
I too, was rooted to the ground, watching the events unfold. I thought I was in control, and frankly I still could be, but I knew then, this wasn't going to turn out like I'd expected.
A large mountain lion had Isabella cornered near a large grouping of rocks. I heard Isabella gasp at his presence, a wool-clad hand covering her mouth in fear. Even from my distance, I knew she was terrified. Her heart began beating thunderously and in the air I could see deep puffs of fog leaving her mouth as the heat hit the cold afternoon air.
The lion growled aggressively and took a step forward, causing Isabella to take her own step back towards the rocks. I watched, disturbed that this lion consider coming between me and my prey.
He took another step forward, slinky and low, continuing his approach towards her. She was cornered by the beast. Trapped against the rocks.
"No, no, no, no, no," I muttered under my breath, she was mine, not some afternoon snack for a forest creature. I'd tracked her and dreamed of her and found her and she was mine to do with as I choose and after all this time I wasn't going to lose her—
"Get away!" I heard her scream over the mental temper tantrum I was having. She was waving her arms, one step away from a full-out panic and it was only encouraging the cat to get closer. My feet finally began moving of their own volition, and I saw her take off her back pack and throw it at the lion, missing it entirely.
She tore off her gloves and her hat, tossing them at the cat lamely, whimpering in fear. I moved closer, so much closer and I watched her cover her ears with her hands, close her eyes and scream in the face of her attacker.
I was almost to her, my senses struck by her fragrance and my ears thundering with her screams, my lifeless heart almost thumping with the distress of her own. The cat, sensing my arrival, changed directions and came snarling towards me—realizing the greater threat. His massive paws searched for contact, claws extended and vengeful.
Isabella's eyes flew open, shocked at my appearance and the redirection of the threat, but before she could react, I dove between them, brushing my body against hers forcefully, before knocking the beast on its back with a loud roar, drowning out the tortured cries of my victim.
This wasn't my first mountain lion. Not even the first of the month. It only took me a moment to overpower him with my sharp teeth and claws, its blood, coating my teeth, but not quenching the thirst that still remained in my throat. I didn't drain him, his thick blood pooling on the forest floor, overwhelming my senses. I paused over his body, regaining composure, wondering how I would react to her now. What should I do?
I inhaled and caught the tinged scent of my obsession over the bloodbath of my kill and groaned. There was no way out of this, she was bleeding and beckoning me to take her, to drink her, to put us both out of our misery.
I turned slowly, determined to appreciate the moment that lie ahead, prepared to succumb to the spoils of my victory. I'd won her out right in a battle of the fittest. But what I found was not what I expected. Isabella was on the ground, head cracked against the large rock, having landed there when I'd pushed by her rashly. I felt my mouth drop as blood poured out of the wound, like an offering, across the gray slate.
She was hurt. Dying possibly…or even already dead. My hands clenched into fists at my side, and I only had one thought, one idea that flashed though my head as she lay sprawled on the ground, injured and weak, unable to fight back.
Not her.
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