HI! I did it, I wrote chapter one! :-D
If you celebrated it, I hope your Thanksgiving was wonderful. If not, I hope your week was wonderful. I was slightly in a Turkey coma and before that, New Moon showed up. I guess those are good excuses for not updating quick, right? HOLY HELL, wasn't Edward just soooo, ung, ovary killer? I was smart. I froze some of my eggs before watching. ;-) I saw the wonky mipple too and I still wanted to lick it. *Unicorned* I can't wait to see his 'V' appear again soon in the next movies. And the wolfpack! More like 8pack. (O.O) HOLY CRABCAKES, that Taylor and that Paul! I'd punch him upside the face repeatedly, too! No one deserves to be that hot and not pay for it in fist sandwiches. Seriously. He'll have to make an appearance on this FF. :-) The Wolfpack won me over this time around. I actually whispered at one point: "Bella, just run away with him. Do it, you stupid whore." I know, I know. *Shoulders drop* It's his sweetness and his abs that did it. :-/ My sister's sarcastic text during the movie said: A girl having to choose over two gorgeous men? Pfft. What a problem. lol She's not a fan so much.
But I have to point out one thing. Was it just me, or was the vision hilarious? People at the theater laughed. Yes, laughed at them running through the meadow. Both times I watched it, they laughed. LOL I felt like an overprotective offended parent. I had the urge to stand and yell at them 'suck on your toes' or 'up yours' or 'you're just mean people who just want to be mean!' Is Weitz aware of this? Probably not. We should send him an email.
Ok, I'll stop rambling. I won't ramble so much on these as the chapters move forward. I'm just too excited over the movie. Thanks sooo much for your feedback! I laughed hard and my heart leaped. Please Review if you like this direction. Please review if you don't. I'd appreciate it. I have goodies in store. Hang in there.
I don't own Twilight. I just own a Mini and my FF reading device—iPhone.
|:::::[-]:::i):::| —Tighten yours
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Chapter One – Fourteen
Bella Swan
I can only hear blood pulsing in a rush through my ears. The chaos around me is evidence that my senses are obscured. Cars have collided. Some are in flames, others are disappearing in thick black smoke. People are running for cover away from their cars. Their hands cover their ears and heads. Some are dropping to the ground for protection. Many bleed from scraps and wounds. A parent holds a child close to their chest, looking terrified. Everyone looks terrified.
What is going on?
I realize I'm sitting in my car watching, when I look down at my stiff hands on the steering wheel. My attention focuses on red running down from gashes all over them. The blood curves around my wrist and down my arms, dripping on my lap. I know I should feel pain but I can't find a way to understand or process it. I am numb.
I peal my fingers one by one off the leather and bring my palms close to my face. They are shaking uncontrollably. In my peripheral vision I see movement outside of the windshield. The rain is pouring over the glass in transparent florescent streaks, making the twilight clouded sky looks like it's in tears. Hands forgotten, I jolt from a dent formed on the hood of the car. Black pants covering a pair of legs and boots. Just as quickly they are gone again.
I start panting, feeling fear creep up my chest. I look at all angles to find the legs and wonder to whom they belong to. With my hands still shaking I blindly force them on the door handle. I squeeze it once and feel pain shoot through my arm. I hiss a second time knowing I'll have to try again. Both hands don't seem to help it budge open. It's no use.
I look at the passenger door, wondering if it'll work. Before I reach across, an unknown force roughly swings my door open. The hinges quake as they almost tear. Without hesitation, I swing my legs out of the car and ease out. My legs work. Everything seems to be in place. I'm looking all around me trying to find whoever opened the door. I wondered if the person in black pants and boots granted me the heroic favor. But who is it? Where is he?
I feel myself go dizzy when I turn too fast to look behind me at the damaged car. It's caved in at the front, a foot shy from the dash. I exhale sharply as a sob escapes my chest when I realize I miraculously got out in one piece. Moving my eyes to the back of the car, I see the reason for the crash. A large SUV is towering over the back like a predator in black. It doesn't seem damaged anywhere near the way my car is.
I scan the area knowing everyone around me is going through the same ordeal. I don't understand what horrible tragedy has caused all of this. I'm half aware that I should be hearing all the screams, sirens, horns and the sound fire makes on burning metal. But I can't. And I'm alone. The loneliness goes deeper than my wounds.
The wind slightly shifts from my right. I know there's movement and I look, as quickly as my daze would let me. A tall black figure is running fast towards me. It's still blurred from the distance between us but I can make out what he holds in its hand. The gun gleams in the rain…and it's pointed at me.
My instinct breaks me out of my haze. I turn and run the opposite direction, leaving my car behind. The fear is so heavy in my lungs I am panting with my mouth open. The rain seeps in my mouth and I try not to choke. I know I can't hesitate for one second, feeling the black figure at my heels. I cannot imagine why I'm being chased, but I know I have to keep running.
I look back. A boost of energy rushes through me when I see the figure closer than I had calculated. I plead for my legs to not cave under me.
Please God. Why is this happening?!
To my horror, I've failed. I feel a strong hand grab my arm. It yanks me back. My feet leave the earth and I leap a few feet. With one shriek, I frantically kick my legs to set me free. I fight and twist with all my strength. I need to face my worst nightmare. I want to see who will end me. He is faceless.
I scream. Black smoke and dark shadows surround me. The figure's face looks like it's made of darkness. The blackest color I've ever seen. I feel as though I'm being sucked into its depths. The end is infinity.
I feel the cold metal of the gun creep under my neck. I'm forced to lift my head to keep as far away from it as I can. I swallow my screams when I feel myself choking. The rain doesn't help.
What is this?! Please…someone!
It is wrapped around my upper body in a death grip and it's slowly crushing my chest. I begin to shrug out of its hold on me. I fall on my back as I'm released. The smoke fades and its back to its original form. I don't stop long enough to try understanding why it let go. I scramble to my feet and continue running the same direction. I know its still behind me, but I have try. Even with the last string of strength I have in me, I have to keep running.
I see a metal fence ahead of me that separates grass from the road. My muscles are already tensing just imagining how I'll have to get over it.
This will slow me down. I can't afford to slow down.
I sneak a peek behind me to see how much time I have. It's gone. The black figure isn't behind me. I stop and frantically look around me. I'm afraid it'll sneak up to me. He wasn't far away. Where is he?
Relief washes over me. My breathing slows. The gun is gone. The smoke is gone. The confusion is gone. I notice then that the figure isn't the only one gone. Everyone else is gone. All the cars and people and chaos are gone. What remains is my car—untouched and safe. It sat exactly where I left it. There was no SUV, no dent in the front or flames.
I grab at my speeding heart, knowing I'll be ok. I run my hand through my hair. The rain is still pouring over me. I remember the fence and turn to look back. I'm relieved I won't have to jump over it.
But I shouldn't have turned. I should've run back to the car and driven off—far away.
I'm faced with a gun one inch from my face. My heart jolted again in a fraction of a second. I felt the ground beneath me disappear.
Green eyes. Beyond the gun, all I could see was a pair of very dark piercing green eyes. Suddenly, I can hear again. A loud excruciating scream penetrated through my awakened ears. It was me.
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I wake up in a start, sitting up. I don't know if you've ever experienced hearing a loud sound in a dream and when you wake up you realize it was real. A scream so loud it meshes with your dream and becomes part of it.
Fourteen. Fourteen was the number of times I've had this dream haunting my sleep for the last four months. And every time it happens I scream until I wake myself up. It seems to be routine now. I still don't understand what it all means. Green eyes. Who do they belong to? Why does he want to kill me?
I must be going insane.
Still sitting with the blanket over my lap, I leap a few inches off the bed at the sound of my alarm clock going off. 5:30. I detest the bright red numbers screaming out at me. I've decided the worst sound in the universe has to be this piece of plastic mechanical junk.
I reach over to smack the 'off' button. Usually, I snooze for half an hour to the very last minute, until 6 am. In my opinion, every minute counts. But thanks to the nightmare, I might as well get up. I crawl out of bed and switch on the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating my room with a soft glow. This will adjust my eyes to the bright morning with ease.
I start for the bathroom to take a shower, grabbing the towel off the footboard. I left it there last night when I washed my hair before bed. Now I've broken a sweat from, apparently, running away from guns and a shadow, I'll need another shower.
I switch the bathroom light on and realize the lamp was a wasted technique. The fluorescent lights eat at my corneas. Shit. I feel for the sink with my eyes closed and turn the knobs, quickly grabbing the toothbrush and paste. They're all where they're supposed to be. After brushing my teeth, I look at the mirror and see the streaks of tears down my cheeks. They never fail. This nightmare takes emotions out of me, even when I'm not conscious.
Should I get help? I don't know. It's just weird. I've never had dreams that haunt me like this. I don't think I have guts to get a shrink. I hardly have friends so I doubt I'll be able to talk to a stranger. I can't talk to Charlie about this, it'll just worry him. It would definitely be awkward, since we hardly talk as it is. Frustrating.
I run my hands over my face knowing my last resort would be Angela or Mike from work. But what girl wants to talk to a guy about her troubling dreams? And he's been so…obnoxious lately. Angela will have to do. Even though I know she will try to convince me to get medical help, she would just have to do.
With my mind made up, I run the hot water and quickly take a shower. I run through my closet finding my 'Tuesday' outfit for work. I really don't pay much attention to fashion detail. I sort of have my own uniform for work. Wear this for Monday, this for Tuesday, that for Wednesday and the rest of the week? Mix it up with jeans. I shrug internally. Who cares? Sadly, there's nobody to impress anyway.
While I slip on my black casual slim pants and my white v-neck tee, I still feel the pain in my chest from crying. I'll have to get Tylenol to kill this and the headache starting up. It's bad when it messes with my health. Bastard dream.
After finishing up getting dressed, I grab my keys and slip on my favorite leather jacket. Every time I put it on I feel invincible—brave. I found it once in my attic in an old trunk that use to be Renee's. I have no idea why she would have a jacket like this. I was too young and it was too late to ask her. I pretend sometimes why she owned it. I let my mind run and make up stories of her riding in a Harley as her hair blows in the wind behind her. Maybe she was a badass cool chick. Who knows? Charlie sure didn't know…or at least he would never talk about it. He used to say it hurt him too much to mention her. He doesn't know it hurts me still that he never did.
She died in a car accident when I was 4. I really never had a chance to know her. I struggle sometimes to remember just a detail of her face.
At least I could wear her jacket all day and feel her closer to me and hope her 'badass' would rub off on me a bit. And trust me, I need all the help I can get. I'm a twat. A clumsy, dorky, journalist who's had nothing special in come her way. I can't catch a break. I'm what you call the epitomeof 'normal'. I'm sure Renee was amazing. I'll always believe that.
By the time I'm walking through the doors to work, I find myself still smiling at the few memories. I should probably think of her every morning to start off a good day.
"Bella! What up?"
Ugh, speaking of horrible nightmares.
"Nothing much, Mike. What's up with you?" I say, feeling my smile instantly fade.
"Is that a way to greet a coworker in the morning? Where's the enthusiasm? You should be honored to have me in your presence...to be the first you lay eyes on when you walk in to work. You should be on your knees…"
"Go jack off in your coffee mug, Mike," I cut him off, "It's too early for your bullshit."
I hear giggles from the far left corner of the office and I know who it is. I can't fight the smirk creeping up my lips. He's too easy.
"Oh, so that's how it is? Ok, fine. But someday you'll be begging to be that coffee mug, Bella, begging." He walks backwards to his desk chair, tripping on the way down as he finishes his stupid little threat. His dirty blonde hair doesn't move from the handful of jell he managed to load on his head so early in the morning. His pale blue eyes are the only innocent looking body parts on him. He wears preppy clothes and a smile on his baby face that can deceive any girl who wouldn't know any better. Pretty much any girl in our office who gets a visit from Mike at her desk shares it with her lunchtime gossip circle.
"Douche," I mumble. I walk to my desk and plop down on the chair sending a wide grin at Angela. "Hi, cupcake."
"Hi, muffin." It's our little inside joke inspired from our boss' perverted baked goods name calling obsession.
"How's it hanging?" I ask, turning on my computer.
"Oh, you know, same as always…shriveled and slightly to the left." She's already bored and it's only 9am. I watch her stare blankly at her monitor.
From across the room I hear Mike swivel in his chair. I know it's coming. "Mine is great, actually, I found it shiny and bright this morning with a bit of a faint happy face smiling up at me. You wanna see for yourself?" he asks.
"Shut the fuck up, Mike!" we yell simultaneously from across the room.
"I swear, I'll file a sexual harassment slip for the second time this month! Now, quit it."
Without a word I can hear a squeaky swivel as he slowly rolls his chair back to its place. That'll keep him checked for an hour or two.
"So, I guess…" Angela whispers leaning in, "you'll be getting a slip too since you told him to jack off in his mug?"
"Ok, seriously? Did you resign as a photographer this morning and work for HR department now?"
Angela presses her lips together to stifle a laugh and shakes her head, making her black-rimmed glasses slip down her nose.
"Then shush it. He'll never notice," I say shrugging. "I just threat him with the slips now after he grabbed my ass that one time." I shudder at the thought.
Angela can't contain her laugh, "Perv. So what are you doing today?" she asks, after straightening her glasses. She's the only one I know who can pull those off and still look sexy-geek-chic. I told her once she reminds me of a happier, three-dimensional version of MTV's Daria and she took it as the best compliment ever.
I sigh, feeling exhausted already. "I have more leads for the article. I should be out this afternoon to interview a couple of people who live by the latest crime scene. I just hope I can get something out of it this time, you know?"
"Well, you would think. It has been a year. Why does Harry still have you on this case?"
"I don't know but I'm getting nowhere. I don't want him to take me off of it, though. I've been working on it for so long. It's frustrating but I'm determined to get answers. I have to. It would be a wasted year of my career if I didn't. I can't believe the killer hasn't been caught. This monster is roaming the city, murdering anyone he gets his hands on. That is, if he's a 'He'."
Angela seems deep in thought. "Whoever it is, knows exactly what they're doing. After all this time, they haven't been caught."
"And not to mention the killings look almost planned. The victims are big guys in the business world. Some own a share of the market. Most of them work for the government. But, Ange, one thing is for sure," I shift in my chair and lean towards Angela, "I know there is more than one killer. Every crime scene is different. I think it's a group."
Angela listens intently while pinching her bottom lip with her fingers. "Have you told this to Harry?"
"No. I haven't told anyone. I need more time before I lay it all out for him. The cops aren't spilling information. I don't even think they realize there's more to this than what it looks like." I look back at my monitor, waiting for it to finish starting up from its slow lag.
The sounds of an office ease into a new busy workday as workers begin to arrive. I watch as they settle in and say their 'good mornings'. I nod to a few in response.
"I did tell Harry about one thing, though." I continue looking back at Angela. "There's something specifically odd about some crime scenes. It's how I figured out there are multiple killers."
"What do you mean? How do you know? And why the hell haven't you told me this?!" Angela looks at me slightly wide eyed.
"I know. I'm sorry! Harry asked to keep this part quiet until we investigated a bit more or some shit. I just think he wants to be the one to announce it to everyone to make himself look productive as a boss. He's such a showoff. But anyway," I say, waving my hand between us to dismiss the excuse, "One of the killers leaves a mark with the victim. Sort of like his signature. A red piece of ribbon."
Angela looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Why? What does it mean?"
"I don't know," I say, "the killer does it in a very subtle way. It's always found hidden in a pocket or somewhere that's not visible." I stare out the window. "Maybe it means something, maybe it doesn't, but I know it's the same killer. It has to be. And I'll find out, no matter how long it takes me."
Angela agrees with a shaky sigh. "It's just so scary…all of it. Like an endless nightmare."
At the word 'nightmare', I tense. I have to tell her about my recurring dream. With the loud noise flowing through the office I know I won't be heard.
Coward. Just tell her already.
"Angela, I have to talk to you about something…"
Just as she looks up, Harry walks out of his office to make an announcement. It's his routine way of breaking news to us from a big case. You know it's serious when he buttons his tight brown suit jacket to make himself look presentable and stern. He doesn't know he looks comical with his shirt peaking from the gaps between the buttons. His rosy plump cheeks make him look far too charming to find him intimidating. The whole office stops what they're doing to listen. I take it as a sign and keep my mouth shut about the dream. It can wait.
Definitely a coward.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new story." Harry steps forward and stands beside a cubicle. The noise of computers, printers, faxes and footsteps fade with stifled interruptions of some clearing their throats or coughing. Chairs swivel to his direction.
"I need a team on location immediately. There's been a new crime scene discovered near Navy Pier last night. We think it's from the Red Ribbon killer." He looks at me and winks, letting me know he has approved my name for the nameless killer. I blush, because the name only slipped on a whim during one or our meetings.
"I need a partner to send with Bella to find out any information we can get from last night. We need witnesses, the victim's background, by standards, if any. We need further information on location—And now. I need anything that'll keep us in the lead. We aren't the number one newspaper in town for nothing. We have to move quickly."
With that, he turns my way and continues. "Thanks to her, we've found significant evidence, which gave us the nicknamed for killer. We'll be headlining the articles all through the state and parts of our neighbor states with this new nickname. Everyone will know of this case and we'll be the first to provide crucial information. Now," he entwines his hands against his chest as he pauses, "I need a partner to help her with this investigation."
Before Harry finished speaking, Mike raises his hand and fumbles to stand from his squeaky chair. In the process, he trips over it and kicks it, making it fall back behind him with a loud bang. "I'll do it!" he shouts a bit louder than necessary. Everyone stifles a laugh and Harry looks my way to get my approval.
I mouth 'No!' I know I'm completely screwed once Harry smirks at me and agrees to Mike's request. He hates me.
Bloody shit.
I glare at Mike in complete disgust while he's smiling at me. Then he winks.
Winks.
Rolling my eyes, I grab my stuff and snap my fingers at Mike indicating to follow me out the door. I'll definitely be setting ground rules for him before we leave the parking lot.
Forget the nightmare. Suddenly, green-eyes-who-wants-to-kill-me doesn't seem so bad right about now. Today, I need a savior from this catastrophe.
