A/N: Well, here is 4. I really don't know what to say over three or about four as I am feeling a bit indifferent. One thing though, I lied. I did change 2 qualities about Stephanie Meyers' properties on vampires. Bella's powers were bullshit and too damn perfect in the book so I changed that and I changed a property in Alice's as well; that may happen in just more than one character just to let ya'll know. And so it began…
Anathema-
a⋅nath⋅e⋅ma
ə-nāth'ə-mə [uh-nath-uh-muh]
-noun
a person or thing detested or loathed: 'That subject is anathema to him.'
a person or thing accursed or consigned to damnation or destruction.
a formal ecclesiastical curse involving excommunication.
any imprecation of divine punishment.
a curse; execration.
Isabella's P.O.V.- Sometime in Spring, 1879
We—I haven't eaten in about 3 days. If you could call those days. Alice—I haven't spoken to her since finding out who my murderer was. I was too tired and drained of any energy to actually argue, curse, and fight. Dammit, I couldn't even be angry normally. And what of it?
More tests have been done within those 3 painful days. The unruly and apparently idiotic men tried to stab me with random objects again. This time it was glass, metal, and a sharpened stone. I stifled a chuckle when they tried them and to no avail, they broke. They also shoved this foul smelling excuse for nourishment down my throat in an attempt to make me eat that shit. What did they call it? Um, pork was it? It was pure nastiness. Of course 5 minutes later, my venom laced vomit spewed all over the men and the main doctor. Had I not been so drained I would've killed him on the spot.
Her? Well, who pays attention? Not I. Not I…
But why this incessant pain? It won't go away. It's so different than the one I felt when I was alone here. Now it's a pulsing, throbbing wound that continues to bleed the tears I can't cry. I feel like when I died, my life was stripped from my soul and from my memory. With her, I felt like I'd found some of that, a happiness instead of the usual pain that encased me in a bitter shell.
And I feel this for the person who murdered me.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
I'm not supposed to feel this. Love is not meant for me…at least that's what she said…
Even in my thoughts and beliefs she's touched me. Can't I just forget, not when I have an eternity to remember. Then there's the other throbbing. It's not a true ache, but if it grows too much, it becomes unbearable and I need a release. It feels as if my inner core is throbbing to be touched. I feel myself growing slick with my own venom, and the sensation is almost like the burning stir at the back of my throat but it feels good to a certain extent. Until I need my release that is.
And when I slide in one nimble digit after another, my insides contract and brings me closer to my hard and craved released. Oh, the release though. My entire being is wracked from bottom to top and I swear I feel a little like the self I can't remember again. And…she makes me feel that way.
I heard a rustle beyond the doors of the confine and I smelt a being, drenched in that sweet tantalizing blood.
-t-w-i-l-i-g-h-t-
Alice's P.O.V.- The 27th of April, 1879
My head shot up from its previous position on the wall and I took in the scent of blood. My eyes clouded over into the obsidian that signified my hunger. I ignored the warning growl that erupted from Isabella's throat and returned it with my own. I felt Isabella glance over at me and I knew she was surprised at the monster she now saw.
It and had been 5 days since I had eaten. My glinting fangs and venom pooling on the floor surely showed that. I shook my head and my body thus sending out the dangerous pheromones that brought my prey closer to my mouth. Isabella seemed to notice. She shook as well, causing the same effect.
The thumping stopped and the metal latch was let up gradually. Two middle aged men were thrown in. As soon as they hit the floor, they latched on to each other for dear life.
"Hey, Walter?" came the squeaky voice of the first thin blonde man.
"Yeah, Perry?" sounded the also annoyingly high pitched voice of the taller, darker, faintly thicker, and frankly slightly more masculine man.
"I, uh, I love you." Perry smiled brightly and Walter smiled just as bright.
"Oh, really?!"
"Yeah!"
"Oh, well, I love you, too!" They giggled happily and snuggled together. I heard an audible groan from Isabella. I crawled a bit closer to the prey silently.
"Perry?"
"Yeah, Walter?"
"Um, I wanna die with you."
"Really?!" Again another excited squeal irritated my eardrums.
"Yeah!"
"Oh! Me too!" The two giggled some more and now were practically sitting on top of each other. Isabella growled loudly and I saw she was not but inches away from them. I was soon the same, as I prepared to launch for the darker man. The men noticed and screeched and squished up further on the wall nearest to them.
"Perry?" Walter said through tears.
"Y-Yeah, Walter?" Perry blubbered.
"I wanna have one last kiss from you."
"Really?!"
"Yeah!"
"Me too!" The two's lips locked and Perry moaned as he moved, straddling Walter's hips. Walter's sudden erection surprised him and he grinded slowly on it with his own. Walter's hips pumped upwards and Walter groaned and sucked on Perry's tongue. I was enthralled by the scene before me, but my bloodlust so clouded any sympathy I had for them. I prepared myself to lunge at Walter.
I pounced.
And I collided with Be—Isabella.
I snarled and Isabella glared at me with coal-like eyes. I tried again at my prey, but Isabella pounced on me instead. Her fist slammed into my head. I yelped and grasped my cranium in pain. Isabella made to hit me with her other fist, but I scooted out of the way in time. I retaliated with a right hook to the side of Isabella's face and I hit my mark.
Isabella whimpered and she glared at me from across the room. I charged at her and managed to take advantage of her position on her back. I straddled her and a flurry of fists I just barely recognized as my own attempted to hit any part of her available.
Isabella grunted and groaned as my punches struck her pretty, beautiful, untouchable…face. Bruises formed quickly and her jaw was battered to near breaking. I faltered for just one second, and the tables were turned.
Isabella launched me off her and ran towards Walter. Walter grimaced. Then his face took on the look of euphoria. I avoided Isabella's path to get to Perry. She hissed at me. I replied with a menacing growl and sunk my fangs into Perry. They both glanced into each other's eyes and smiled. Naturally, Walter died first and Perry followed with ease.
Isabella finished, her teeth shining brilliantly in the sunlight. She turned to me just as I finished. She glared and delivered yet another shriveling blow to my head. I screamed and set myself up for another devastating pound to the skull. By this time I was writhing in agony. I was in so much pain that I didn't notice her setup to her next assault.
She was behind me, and before I could react Isabella gripped my arm. She pulled it backwards towards her. An appalling crack followed by an eardrum shattering scream tore through the somber room like the tearing of paper. Isabella released me and scampered over to her usual corner. I mewled and fell forward right onto my contorted face. That's the arm he broke. Damn that--
"Bitch!" I roared, as my anguish fueled my anger. I groaned and dragged myself to the area where Perry's and Walter's body lay. With my good arm, I dragged Perry's body by my lonely corner. I threw him on the ground and curled up on top of him the best I could with a broken arm. Surprisingly, I felt his lukewarm heat coming off of him though he was dead. I must have just been rather frigid.
I groaned as my arm throbbed in spite of my comfortable position. I then sat up and cradled the misshapen arm in my hand. I pulled sharply and howled at the sound of another crack. I had returned my arm to its previous, natural position. It now protested vividly as I tried to revert back to my comforted position. Damn that girl.
-t-w-i-l-i-g-h-t-
Isabella's P.O.V.- Sometime in Spring, 1879
What did I do to Alice? I heard the crack. Hell, more than the crack. I heard the bone whining as it was torn from its neighbor. I heard the scraping and chafing of the bones. I heard the very muscle tendons flare in its fury. Alice, Alice…
Alice.
What did I do to sweet Alice? Who also helped in killing me? 5 more days have passed and I can't stop it with this Alice—thing. I… I dunno what I wanna do. The love stuck idiotic side of me wants to go tell Alice I'm sorry and go make passionate…I don't know exactly what, but passionate something. The other rational, yet extremely violent side of me wants to rip her into the smallest shreds I could muster, and then stuff those into my mouth. Ack! Alice was driving me insane!
3 small knocks on the metal door caused me to stiffen. An army of feet marched down the nearby hall. I frowned. The doctors didn't usually come in so late, we were next to useless. The door was opened without hesitation. A team of men stormed in. Alice's head popped up and she hissed. They staggered and charged for Alice.
Alice stood up fully. She pulled back for a quick jab with her left, but was quickly subdued. She was able knock a few unconscious and almost escaped, but reinforcements poured in like water from the rain. A part of me yearned to help Alice, but I restrained myself. Alice's back arched in attempt to shake some hands off her, but again she was stuck. She slumped miserably and I barely heard her faint sigh of defeat as she was hauled off.
Shit. What's next?
-t-w-i-l-i-g-h-t-
Alice's P.O.V.- The 27th of April, 1879
I groaned as I found myself stripped down to my pallid coat and several drooling men looming over me. I smelt their disgusting arousal heavy in the air, and I gagged. The main brute approached me. His dirty blonde hair was tossed lazily across his shoulders. He was tall and thin. His glasses were rusted and cracked. The grin he shot me paralyzed me on the spot. His teeth were nasty, jagged and sallow.
"Ah. You are the Number 251, and your friend is 347, right? Good. You look well. Very pretty you are." One of his fingers brushed my nipple. I shivered at the warmer touch. "Now, we have an important test to perform. We must figure out what exactly your venom is made of." I hissed. For effect I bared my extended incisors at him, and he merely chuckled. "You're feisty, yeah? Kenneth?" He called out.
"Yes, Dr. Compton." This, Kenneth replied.
"Martin. Please call me Martin. Bring the boy." Kenneth dashed off. Dr. Martin turned his attention back to me. "You're so dangerous, but I can't help but feel more than a little attracted to your form." He placed his hands on my torso. I observed his hands.
They were riddled with age and work. I could also smell his own discharge on his hands from the previous night. I twitched as his hands descended down my trunk.
"Now, now. Don't fight me. I'm just doing a simple test." He flashed that gruesome smile again. His hands stopped. "What's your name?" His breath smelt strongly of liquor. I growled. "Huh, you won't tell me? Let's see."Dr. Martin's hand grabbed at my wrist. He slowly read the bloodied chain hanging of my wrist. "Al-ice. No surname? Guess you're a nobody." He chuckled. Dr. Martin's hands moved downwards again. He was just above my crotch. "Now, Alice, ready for—"
"Dr. Compton, the boy is here." Kenneth came in with a small boy cradled on his arms. The boy was shaved bald. His eyes were a sickly shade of yellow. He was limp except for the small but existent smile on his features. The child's eyes were a piercing blue and his skin was a pasty white.
"Please, Kenneth. Call me Martin."Dr. Martin removed his hands from me and greeted the boy with the sluggish simper that unsettled me. "Joseph Ayers. How are you?" Joseph's head lifted momentarily. "Good. Diesen, please administer the whiskey." Kenneth walked over to a nearby counter. He pulled a brownish bottle from the counter and slowly poured a bit down the child's throat. He stopped abruptly when Joseph spluttered.
"Polio patient. Everything is paralyzed except for his facial muscles. His parents didn't want to have to bother with him, so they sent him here. They said he was interfering with their business plans. Sad, huh?" Dr. Martin's tone suddenly became somber. I felt a particularly strong pull of guilt, as I'd already found several things they would force me to do with that boy.
"Dr. Com—Martin. The whiskey's been administered." Dr. Martin sighed.
"Alright, remove his left arm." I gulped and struggled under the metal that had me bounded. "No time to panic now. It's already beginning."Kenneth took a butcher's knife and laid the sickly Joseph on the table. He lined himself up and took a test swing. It obviously missed, but it was a lined with Joseph's left arm.
Kenneth took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, but I could distinctly hear his thudding heart above all the others in the dusty room. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and Joseph's eyes slid shut. Kenneth brought the knife over his head, lined himself up, and brought it down quickly.
Joseph did not scream or shout, but his face was warped from the pain, despite the whiskey.
"Hurry and wrap it Kenneth. Clean it too." Kenneth groaned and Joseph's head lolled spiritlessly on the counter. His tiny body now looked even more tortured with blood splattered all over it. While Kenneth cleaned, Dr. Martin grabbed the arm and wafted the scent of blood around. He then took the detached arm and put it in front of me.
The smell was horrid. It smelt of rotting flesh. I retched violently and struggled to turn my head. Dr. Martin only pursued me. I snapped at his hand instead. His hand flew back and luckily so did the foul smelling arm.
"What? You don't like blood now?" Dr. Martin truly looked perplexed at the situation. His eyes lit up, and a sly smirk wiped of the look of confusion. "Kenneth. Remove the boy's spine." Kenneth looked horrified; however he nodded and took the butcher knife in his hands. I wriggled against my bindings again, but to no avail. I slumped.
Kenneth glanced down at Joseph, and saw the fear crystallized in his icy eyes. Kenneth wrenched his gaze away. He prepared to remove the spine, which, needless to say, would kill the immobile child.
The cutting. Oh, the cutting. I could hear blood vessels squealing and the tendons screeching for mercy. The knife seemed to be laughing. It was a sick and unsettling laugh that mocked the skin that had been penetrated. I could practically feel the nerves wailing in torment. My mind was soon rocked overboard by an incoming vision; I succumbed to get away from the dread before me.
Vision #344
"So Carlisle, did you come to work, or do you have something else to transact?" A man standing next to a slight, handsome blonde man asked.
"Well to be honest, I've come to see a patient of mine, to possibly adopt." The short and fat man gasped and rubbed his dark mustache.
"Well, Carlisle, you are the expert here in Williamsburg, Virginia. So I have full confidence you know whatever it is you are preparing to undertake." The portly man smiled a genuine smile. As another man passed by them, his smile disappeared. "You did speak with the-uh Quakers?" Carlisle flashed a small smile and nodded.
"No need to be hushed Mr. Henley; I have taken the necessary precautions and proceedings to do what I must do." Mr. Henley's smile appeared again.
"Well, let's not dawdle. By the by, who are you planning to take?" Mr. Henley asked leisurely as they strolled down the long white hall before them.
"Ah, you will not worry for my own mental health will you?" Mr. Henley guffawed rather loudly.
"Not unless completely necessary." He replied between his laughter.
"Well, Alice is my choice." Mr. Henley stopped walking completely and he now resembled that of a ghost.
"W-W-WHAT!? Alice?! She is—She is insane! She isn't even from America! She's Russian, Carlisle!" Carlisle sighed.
"Everyone here is insane, she is no different. She just needs special care and attention."
"For God's sake, she was a brain fever sufferer! How are you going to cope with her emotional and physical needs Carlisle?"
"You forget that my wife was the same way." Mr. Henley was silenced by Carlisle's now somber tone.
"Alright, I trust you Carlisle." They continued to a door marked 'The Gyrator Room'. Outside the door you could hear the faint whirring of a device inside. They opened the door to reveal the infamous Alice.
"Wheeeeeeee!" Alice was strapped to a contraption like a rod on a wheel with a bed of some sort attached to it. It was spinning madly, as the men not too far away rotated the wheel that moved the rod. Alice's giggles and squeals could be heard flying throughout the room. Slowly the device descended to reveal a messy haired Alice strapped down to the bed.
"Carlisle!" Alice shrieked. As soon as she was released, Alice ran to Carlisle and hugged him. It was comical since she was only tall enough that the top of her head reached the middle of his abdomen.
"Hello, Alice." Carlisle smiled at the young girl and prepared to tell her the good news. "Alice, do you want to get away from here." Alice's face contorted into confusion.
"I do not know…I will not have to be a serf will I?"
"Oh, no. You will be with me. I am thinking of adopting you." Alice's eyes lit up.
"Really?! You are not just saying that?" She questioned.
"Nonsense. You will stay with me, Esmé, and Edward." Alice jumped for joy and spun around.
"I will go! I get to have a family!" Alice hopped and skipped with too much energy as she soon bumped into Carlisle's legs.
"Alice." Carlisle laughed. "Let's not tarry. Come on." Alice grasped Carlisle's hand and skipped down the hall. Mr. Henley shook his head, the smile clear on his face.
"I do hope he knows what he's doing. That child deserves better." Looking down he checked off a name. 'Мэри Элис Брэндон --Mary Alice Brandon'.
Alice's P.O.V.- The 27th of April, 1879
So that's my name. Mary Alice Brandon. That's my name. I have a full and real name. A sudden jolt diffused my visionary high.
"Open up." I glanced down at the dust before me. I opened my mouth to save any energy I had left. It was bitter, oh so bitter. It even had a little crunch to it. I managed to swallow the entire bowlful, but it made me feel ill. "That was Joseph's spine. Polio affects the spinal cord and brain. Let's see if you catch the disease." I blanched. I gagged and coughed.
"Aw. Was it nasty?" Dr. Martin mocked cruelly. "Maybe it'll come out with some results." I tried to forge some type of a block, so I couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me heave all over the floor. But then Joseph came to mind, and I thought about how he was essentially swimming in my venom as of right now. His very spirit was drenched in what kills so many. I lost it then.
I spewed. Dr. Martin was right in front of me so the vomit hit him squarely in the eyes. He retracted violently and howled. The venom seemed to be burning right through his eyes. I felt my throat constrict. My eyes clouded over in black. I felt a surge of adrenaline and I broke my bindings to pick of a nearby man. I drained him as soon as I could and moved to the next victim.
God…I've never felt this full before. Now deemed to be the ideal time escape. Now was the time to be free. For me to be free; for Bella to be free…
A vision tugged at my consciousness. I inwardly groaned. Why now of all times…?
-t-w-i-l-i-g-h-t-
A/N: Ooh. 4. It's been awhile, but I had serious plot holes going on. Well, I hope somebody reads it and likes it enough to review. 5 is done, 6 is close. So we'll see how many holes I have there. By the by, where are Walter and Perry from? Who knows? Read and Review.