Bitten: A Twilight Dream

by Bibliophile13

A story where my best friend (Katie), and I find ourselves submersed in the world of Twilight, and join our new found forces to face the unknown. (Don't expect perfection. In fact, be completely honest in the comments. I can handle a little hate if it helps.) Rated T just in case. I have no right to Stephanie Meyer's characters and plot.

2. The Beginning of the End

Chapter 2: The Beginning of the End

Katelyn: I was dazzled. Stunned. Bambozled. Died and gone to heaven. HE was standing there. He had cocoa brown hair, perfectly messy. Tall, lean (but strong), he even had perfect ears. Not to mention he wore a thin white tee, and loose jeans. One problem: his deep crimson eyes.

Something like a squeak escaped my lips. I couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe! My thoughts bounced in my head, a jumbled mess of, "Wow, he's gorgeous." And "We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die." (Plus that stupid voice in the back of your head saying "Gonna is not a word." I was not appreciating my ADD right now.)

After either an eternity or a second (I couldn't really tell you), he smiled. Not a warm smile, or even a fake one. A smile that holds venom a thousand snakes couldn't hold. The kind of smile that means your doom. A smile that could kill. Our fate was set, and it was a cruel one.

The next few seconds were such a blur, I'm not even sure they existed. It was just a flick of his wrist toward Tommy, but it was much more than it seemed. Suddenly, Tommy's back arched, his knees buckling. His skull hit the ground with a crack, blood spilling on the floor, he writhed in agony, screaming at the point it curdled your blood. I stood there in complete shock. Who knew it was just a foreshadowing of what's to come.

Katie: No amount of time can pass that I will forget any detail of that moment. Time seemed to slow as the man turned impossibly quick to Tommy, flashing an evil smile so terrifying it could paralyze a shark. He flick his wrist toward Tommy, and Tommy's knees buckled, causing him to fall to a lump on the floor. I can still hear the crack of his skull colliding with the concrete, and his screams of pure torture. Even years later I can feel the weight of fear planting me to the ground, watching the scene unfold. Every ounce of my being begged of me to flee, to never return, and abandon the memory. But I knew that if the three of us didn't work together, the same agonizing fate awaited my friends.

We needed to distract him for as long as possible, and maybe help would come. It was a desperate hope, with little outlook of succeeding, but what other choice had we but to give up and die? No worthy character in a book would go down without a fight. A look at my friends told me the thought the same things. A slight nod from each of them, and we stood at fighting stance, ready to face victory or death. And with that, the fight began.