Authors Note: Hello my pretties!
Just a bit of a note before you continue reading this. The following story is the entire Twilight book written in Jasper and Alice's perspective, starting from the time Alice woke up as a vampire, and Jasper was with Maria. I (Kimberlee-Shantel) will be writing in Alice's perspective while Sarah (Sewwychristine) will be writing in Jasper's.
We do not own the characters or any of the dates/plots mentioned in the story. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. We just elaborated and put them into greater detail for your enjoyment.
Chapter 1
Beginnings
My eyes were still closed, my body writhing on the cold and wet concrete beneath me, although I paid no attention to that. Every fibre of my being burned as if it were engulfed in flames. As if hell wasn't enough, God took it upon himself to find and unleash the cruelest of all punishments onto me.
I couldn't physically pinpoint just one specific limb or bone or muscle that seared with pain: The entirety of me stung in absolute agony, and despite my constant prayers, God seemed to find me unworthy of such a blessing. Every last millimetre of me was being stabbed, boiled and skinned alive, all at precisely the same time. Each nerve ending fired so rapidly that my muscles convulsed uncontrollably, shaking my body so hard that seemingly every particle in my body, right down to my individual skin cells, vibrated in unbearable and unstoppable torture. I could feel it coursing through my veins, my rapid heartbeats pumping it further, quicker into my body from the tips of my toes to the ends of each strand of hair.
I found myself unable to call out in distress, unable to alert anybody to my position in the dark alley I could only assume I had been left in. The feel of the humid air I breathed, the scent that came with each pinching gasp, lead me to believe that an alleyway was the only logical answer to where I had been discarded, thrown here to rot just like the trash that seemed to surround me. I'd been left to whatever demons were tearing me apart, my remains surely scattered for the sewer rats to finish off. The perfect ending to someone like myself, who was so clearly controlled by something as evil as the Devil himself.
I was unable to move, not even to open my eyes and see the cause of the invisible maiming that continued to burn me alive. The only screams I was able to elicit were in my mind, deafening me.
Through my internal screams, I caught a glimpse of the fire that begged to consume me. Raging in anger; licking at torn body parts; scattered like crackling logs. In my hazed state, I took notice to an unfamiliar man with long hair, pulled back off his shoulders. A piece of white stationery in his hands, a maniacal laugh escaping his lips as he tossed it into the growing fire, before the image disappeared.
I wasn't sure if I had actually seen such a thing, if it was the true cause of my inexplicable discomfort or if it was a figment of my imagination. My mind willing me to see what my body has been longing to understand: A cause for my pain. Either way, it was something I never saw, let alone remembered after it departed.
In a failing attempt to remove my mind from the consistent abuse being inflicted upon me, I had begun to count the seconds, the minutes, and the hours that seemed to pass. Each tick of the clock within my mind was nothing more than a soft whimper, begging the heavens and the hells to put me out of my misery once and for all.
I was amazed at how aware I was of everything around me. The people scurrying about on the street a good yard from where I lay. The rumbling in the clouds over head as they began to drop countless raindrops onto my exposed body, each one practically unnoticed in comparison to the immense pain I was still having inflicted onto me. The laughter, the shouting, the everyday noises continued to flow by. Life continued to go on, though none of it was distraction enough to tear my mind away from the horrid sensation. I was damned.
Two hundred, fifty-nine thousand and two hundred seconds passed in total. Three entire days of mind numbing and paralyzing agony – something I assumed was one of the many tortures of the devil. For the first time in those agonizing seventy-two hours, I felt the pain change, dim, fade. I felt the coursing flames in my veins end their continuous journey, I felt my heart give in and my breathing relax. I felt the cold settle in, though in a comfortable fashion.
I felt my muscles and my skin tighten; firming in what I assumed was defense against the pain they had fallen victim to. I was able to feel and count each individual ran drop that splashed against my flesh. All of the sounds that had been occurring around me, all of the scents lingering near washed over me like never before.
I allowed my eyes to flicker open, though I didn't have the chance to admire my heightened eyesight. Instead I was plagued with another form of torture, though this one was in my mind alone.
I saw a beautiful young female, walking down a crowded street. The most gorgeous of pearls hanging off her exposed neck. Her hair was pinned up, a smile on her face as she continued on with her everyday tasks. My mind flickered like a candle, darkening before flashing to the next image. The same young woman drenched in a red substance. Blood. In this vision, I stood over her with the same liquid coating my mouth, a demonic smile painted across my lips.
To my left stood one of the most attractive men I had the pleasure of witnessing. The vision was so vivid and real; his skin was the palest of ivories, looking as smooth as fine marble. He tipped his flat cap in greeting to my presence, and at that moment I swore that I could have counted each shade of blond that made up his hair while I stood there, had I known the beautiful image would have lasted long enough. Perhaps I had already begun doing just that, for I hadn't paid the slightest attention to the scenery changing from a dark alley way to a small cafe. Instead, I caught onto the vaguest of glimpses. Glimpses of the blood around us and glimpses of his head lifting back up, his red eyes peering down into mine. My body trembled in the fear the horrible images were creating in me: The devil himself staring at me through my mind before everything faded and I was left staring blankly at the wet brick wall in front of me.
My entire body was tingling from the aftermath of both the physical pain and the mental images, my eyes staying glued on the brick wall. From my position on the other side of the alley, I could clearly see each single dew drop, each crevice in the stone creating the walls. The practically invisible specks of dirt that floated harmlessly in the air, things that the average human was not meant to view with their own eyes. I put it down to the Lord's judgment and his unknown reasons to torture me further.
My head snapped violently to the side upon hearing a stirring beside me, sounding like the highly distracting sound of the shuffling of feet against the roadside. Not a soul was within hearing range of where I sat, not even the common mouse.
The sound persisted, my attention focused solely on locating the cause in some vain attempt to retain what little sanity I had left. With my head still turned to the side, the smallest flicker of movement caught my sight. A spider carefully constructing a silken web along the rough brick, the sounds it elicited catching my ear as if the sound were intensified. I had no explanation, only theories as to what type of world I had been sent to as punishment for my unintentional curse. My eyes closed tightly in an effort to drown the scraping sounds of the insect's legs against the stone, the sound reminding me of twigs snapping with applied weight.
Twigs snapping...
My mind ricocheted from one thing to another so quickly I thought I would fall ill. The man from my vision, the one laughing by a pile of limbs set aflame was running. He was a complete stranger to me, other than having seen him in my mind once prior, the image of him torturously confusing to me.
I fell still as I waited for the movement in my mind to come to a stop, though it refused. Unlike the two previous glimpses before this, it continued and allowed me to focus on small details. The man wore his hair long and pulled off his shoulders much in my earlier vision though in this specific image his clothing seemed dated in a time not my own. They were muddied and torn, unacceptable in the public's eye. He wore nothing on his feet, the snapping of the twigs clearly audible upon contact with the earth's floor.
The man bore a wide grin on his face as he ran through the wilderness like a savage animal, at a speed I was barely able to so much as comprehend. Following closely behind him was an equally as savage looking female with hair that licked the hair like red flames. The sight of her alone was enough to have me trembling in intimidation, the way the frightening male made sure to remain close to his running partner insured me of their protectiveness over one another, though I wasn't sure why I was being shown such things.
It wasn't just images I was able to gain from the odd predicament I found myself in, I was also able to feel the strongest emotion radiating off the two; longing. The couple longed for someone; they depended on that final member and were incomplete without them. For the briefest moment, I felt that incompleteness.
In a rapid flick, it was as if everything I was viewing had fast forwarded. The longing for something more no longer existed in my mind; it was replaced by a feeling of completion. A third party occupied my vision, a final member in the group already consisting of the man and woman of the flames. Their mouths moved in conversation, though I was unable to hear a single word.
The three wore new clothing now, articles of fabric I never dreamed nor wished to see on anybody, let alone savages. The female alone had so much skin exposed; she might as well have been one of the unfortunate woman working the busy city streets. The two men for the most part lounged shirtless, their broad chests coated in dried blood. The sight of the red substance caused me to tremble in a vague remembrance of my previous vision, myself resembling their physical state.
Another flash: This one taking me more by surprise than the last. I could feel a rush of primal instinct doused with the prospect of a game. The back of my throat burned, a driven thirst trying to take control of me with little avail. Instead of giving in, I continued to watch the images playing on through my mind.
A beautiful brunette: so ordinary yet so very spectacular. The clothing she wore was simply appalling, evidence of a future I did not want, nor desire to be a part of. A strange comfort washed over me as her scent from the vision continuing to play hit me. She smelled delicate and fragile. Floral, like freesia and in the briefest blink of my eyes, she was dead, devoured and lost from the world forever. The trio I had been following in my mind stood over the beautiful girl, tossing her limp and lifeless body to the ground carelessly all the while wiping her blood from their lips, and then they were gone.
My mind went blank, ridding of the horrible images that played in my mind over the past few minutes. I sat up from my lying position on the cold and wet ground, my chest heaving with anguished sobs. That girl, that ordinary nobody... I was attached to her in ways I didn't know possible. I had an imaginary friend, a figment of my imagination taken away from me which in any other case would have left me perfectly fine only now, I was more incomplete than I ever thought possible.
I wasn't sure how long I continued to allow myself to tearlessly cry – a feat which was fairly unusual. I blamed it on pure exhaustion in fear of the true explanation. The devil simply didn't grant tears to his prisoners.
I had lost a perfect stranger, though it felt as if I lost family. In my jumbled and thoroughly confused mind, I had been trying to piece every part of my visions together in hopes to find a resolution; in hopes to find a way to save the girl that brought me so much pain with her death. I had a nagging feeling that turned into a certainty that I was the cause of her death, I was the reason her life was taken. I had been covered in blood in one of my premonitions; I was linked to everything, despite knowing how or why. The only thing I knew was I didn't want to be the monsters the four other members of my visions turned out to be. It was then I decided to make a choice. I could succumb to the devil himself and continue to allow him to torment me for something I could not control, or I could fight back with everything I possessed.
I will not be broken.
With that single and undying thought in mind, I found the strength to pull myself up off the ground. Despite the heavy sobbing I had fallen victim to, I didn't find myself short of breath. I wasn't even the slightest bit exhausted. Perhaps I was being granted the upper hand for the time being, a head start.
I stumbled my way down the dark alley, the streets morbidly dark and dank – practically void of human life. The odd unfortunate combed through the streets in search of a few coins, willing to sacrifice their bodies for the next closest thing to a warm meal. A few older boys, not much older than fifteen counted coins in their hands, obviously up to no good with these women around at this late hour.
I was able to feel the ground beneath my feet perfectly. The shape of the rubble, the sensation of the wet dirt forcing me to realize I had been without shoes. Upon glancing down at my bare feet, I realized I was without proper attire as well, clothed in only what I assumed to be a poor excuse for hospital wear. I had no recollection of being in any sort of hospital or institute, forcing more unanswered questions into my head. Or perhaps this was the sorry excuse of clothing they buried you in nowadays...
My bare awfully pale legs were smudged with dirt, as were my arms and chest. I assumed it was primarily caused by my writhing in agony in the ally those long three days. Running a hand through my hair in search for whatever other flaws I could find, my hair fell shorter than what I had expected it to be, clearly cut at a much shorter length.
I hadn't a moment to ponder why on earth someone would do such a thing, when my eyes fell upon the woman of my dream. The pearls glistened on her pulsating neck. Her hair was pinned back in a sinful way that made my throat parched. Instantly the image of me covered in blood polluted my thoughts, causing me to clap my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.
I had never felt such an overwhelming urge to hurt someone in all of my life. To sink my teeth into her luscious throat and drink every drop of the heavenly fluid that lay beneath. I wanted to hear her scream, to watch her beg me for her life. I wanted to toy with her in ways that would put Lucifer himself to shame. I wanted to kill her, as well as everybody else around me.
Despite what my instincts were screaming at me to do, I downright refused. I was not going to let myself fall victim to this new torture tactic. I was not going to give in and give God another reason to punish me.
I would not be broken.
And so I ran.
