Disclaimer: This story is based on the character Carlisle Cullen of the Twilight saga, both created and copyrighted by Stephanie Meyer. I take NO ownership of ANY aspect of the Twilight saga featured in this or subsequent chapters.
Blood & Burial
Chapter 2
Running Damned
The end of the alley opened to the back end block of the city- it would be another 6 blocks to the right before I hit the outskirts. The cover of nightfall would only grant me temporary solace. I would find no refuge anywhere in this city. I had to make my escape, and I had to be swift- as I rounded the corner I felt my knees begin to give out. I scanned the street to ensure I was alone before pressing my back to the wall and sliding down to the ground.
I forced myself not to relish in the fleeting comfort of sitting. Any ounce of rest that I gained was lost with the growing pain that shot through my body with every beat of my racing heart. As I wiped the cold sweat from my brow I grew aware of the mixture of perspiration and blood dripping from my neck to the ground below me. I ripped the cuff of my left sleeve and pressed it against the wounds of my neck. I could not risk leaving a trail.
When the bleeding slowed and I felt that my legs could support my weight again, I slowly made my way back to my feet. I wasn't sure how far I could run before having to rest again and there was no time to make an estimation. I resolved to run as swiftly as possible until I felt my legs begin to give out again, and at that point I would stop myself for another brief rest. I started to sprint down the block, forcing myself to ignore any and all pain that my mind tried to warn me of. My thoughts could only dwell on escape if I were to have any chance of surviving this night.
Another block and four street lamps would pass before I felt the urge to stop. I barely got one hand on the building beside me before I collapsed to my knees- I might as well have landed on a pile of broken glass. My knees were never the same since my last hunt. Barnabas swore that I broke at least one of them when I fell from that balcony, and had our doctor had been with us he might have even confirmed it. It had only been several weeks before I could bear weight on them again in a significant and useful matter, but from then on I always felt the dull pain that subtly arose when I exerted myself for more than a few feet at a time.
That pain was nothing compared to what I was feeling that night. The burning was beginning to intensify around my joints, as though I was bearing the weight of scorching coals tied to my body. My body felt heavy, as though the vampire's bite deposited a pound of lead into my bloodstream. But unlike lead, I knew that what was in my blood was not just sitting idly in my veins- it was changing me, and destroying me in the process.
I forced myself to take my thoughts off of that disturbing truth and instead focused once more on my legs. All that really mattered at that moment in time was making sure that I could stand on them, that those two legs that God had constructed me with for this specific moment in time could bear the weight of my broken and tortured body for a few more blocks. The rest of my body- and my mind for that matter- had little significance.
I rose to my feet and picked up a stride that would carry me another two blocks without ceasing. Though I wanted to badly to stop myself, I resisted the urge to rest. The sooner I escaped the city, the sooner I could retreat to the woods.
And the sooner I could retreat, the sooner I could suffer in solitude.
As that thought crossed my mind I felt my knees suddenly give away. Without any warning my legs crumbled within a split second, and I soon felt my chest crash to the floor and my head bounce off the sullied road below me. My nostrils were inhaling the pungent stench of soil and horse hooves before I even realized what had happened. A primal cry of pain escaped my body- my first verbalization of pain since being bitten- and I heard my scream echo down the empty road that bore my suffering. My hands grasped the dirt that covered the ground that I laid on as I attempted to raise myself up, a futile effort given the rapid descent and impact my body had just taken.
Beside my broken body stood a tall black street light, the light atop of it flickering with every weak gust of wind that blew past it. I dragged myself to the base of the post and tossed my arm around it, using it as an anchor by which to pull the rest of my body inwards. The smooth, rounded street light gave my dirt-ridden hands little with which to grasp onto- the lamp was merely a crutch by which I attempted to stand myself up to. My knees quivered as my chest and face crushed themselves up to the post, and for several seconds that post was the only thing keeping me standing until my legs had gained their footing.
It wasn't until I was standing once again that I became aware of how terribly my vision was beginning to distort. I wiped my eyes with my hands in an attempt to rub the dirt away from them, for all the good wiping dirt with more dirt could do. Through the mud and grime before my eyes I could barely make out the lines of buildings and shops within the blur. I could barely recognize the street from my childhood- it was where my father and I had done a majority of our food shopping before his pastoral duties had picked up. The years had not been kind to business in this part of town, as the lack of surveillance by authorities had led to an increase in theft and violence. Add to that the stories and rumors of the inhumane nature of the nighttime "inhabitants"- such as the creatures responsible for bringing me back to this part of town- and there was little doubt as to why business owners had closed their doors and turned their backs on this forgotten strip of the city.
I stepped away from the street light that had been my crutch and stumbled messily towards the wall before me. I stared down the length of brick and broken windows to my right, resting my eyes on a set of rusted cellar doors interrupting the otherwise flattened landscape. I looked once more down to my feet and examined my quivering knees. Leaving the city was no longer an option for me- I was physically incapable of even crawling another block, let alone to the outskirts. I approached the cellar doors and removed the broken locks, then pulled the left door open and held it up with my arms to examine the flight of stairs below me. The pale moonlight above me and the dimly lit street lamps behind me barely illuminated the stairs that I set my foot on, and before my second foot could reach the stairs my head and shoulders tipped forward and brought my entire body crashing down the steps to the bottom of the cellar and crashing into a poorly sealed crate.
The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was the sound of the cellar doors above me slamming shut and the stench of rotting potatoes from the crate I decimated with my body. I felt my mind and body slip into darkness and reality fade way. My nightmare had just begun.
\m/ d-_-b \m/
