- ACT VII-
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"Where are you taking me?" The boy whimpered. He felt the urge to run from the girl, but the sudden need to stay with her was far more overwhelming.
She chuckled softly drawing him in closer to her, "You're not asking the right questions, Jack. Come on, I know you're clever."
He went silent for several seconds before asking another question, "Why are you taking me?"
"Much better." She smiled proudly, "But still not quite what I'd prefer you ask me. Where or why I'm taking you isn't important. It's what I plan to do with you, now that's an astronomically more compelling subject. But don't ask me that yet. The time isn't right."
"What happened to the others?"
"They've already been taking by the humans. They'll overcome their ordeal with little scars and live fulfilling lives. Believe me, I know."
He believed her. It wasn't blind faith in the girl who'd saved him though.
It was the manner about her and how confidently she spoke. He focused on the way she said human. Even seeing the strange morphing of her eyes or her brutally killing the Monster, he still wasn't sure what to make of her.
No more words were exchanged. His eyes wandered, taking in the quiet street, the dark atmosphere of a city night. A fog of despair hung in the cold night air. The buildings looked worn. The sound of sirens in the distance and someone crying in an alleyway they just passed.
It was a hopeless scene. But all Jack felt was hope. The girl's arms were wrapped securely around his shoulders, the heat of her body helping to keep him warm but yet he shivered slightly. Even with the new cloths he was wearing he still felt the cold in the air.
He'd gotten used to that, in the Dollhouse. All he felt was cold in that place. An unbearable cold that never let up. But the cold was already a passing memory.
She saved him. She killed the monster and she took him away. He remembered a story told to him, of a princess being rescued from the monster's clutches by a mighty prince. This felt the same. It didn't matter that he wasn't a princess. What mattered was he would never see that house or the monster again.
They'd both been burnt to the ground. He smiled at the memory.
After getting the others out of the house, he and his Savior had pillaged the house. They took every valuable item they could carry—money, cloths, jewelry, food. The girl loaded everything up in a large suitcase and had him help her drag it out the house.
But then she led him back inside. Back into the Dollhouse, where the Dollmaker laid, dead. She doused him in gasoline and handed a box of matches to Jack. She let him watch the body burn for a minute before hurrying him out of the house.
They didn't stay to see the entire house burn, but the little he saw was enough.
"I know you like fire. That's partly why I chose you." The girl's voice interrupted his thoughts, "And my name is Cilantro."
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"She was here, Jasper." Bella said tiredly, "We missed her by days."
They stood a mile or so away from where a house was burned to the ground. Police had received an anonymous tip about the location of some missing children and immediately went to investigate. They found the children asleep on a trail that lead them directly to the house in flames.
They couldn't save the house or much of the evidence, but they did find the remains of the man who owned the place. The story was all over the news and that's what lead them to the small town.
The story of the maniac who'd kidnapped children and kept them in his basement was all over the news. How he'd died didn't matter in that moment. The children were safe. At least some of them. The police had found the remains of more children buried in the man's meticulous garden.
But that wasn't why they were there.
Following her instincts, Bella demanded they visit the small town. They caught her scent almost immediately when they visited the crime scene. It was obvious she wanted them to know she was there. The scent trail lead directly to a tree, with a very distinct marking on it.
Jasper leaned in closer to the marked tree and growled, "She's teasing us."
Bella scoffed, "You think?" Even through her worry, she couldn't help but smile at her daughter's attempt at humor.
"She could've come up with something more creative." Jasper grumbled slightly, "I mean, a smiley face with fangs? That's kind of rudimentary."
"Yeah, well. Emmett's to blame for her shrewd humor."
Jasper chuckled darkly, remembering the days he'd before Bella's awakening, "I don't think we should place all the blame on Emmett."
"Maybe not." Bella agreed with a sad smile, "I miss her, Jasper."
"I miss her too."
She bit back a sob, "Why did she leave?"
A chime interrupted him from answering. Bella pulled out a cell phone and stared at the screen. Her eyes widened when she read the message.
Because I had to.
He may not have been able to feel her emotions but her expression of frustration was all he needed. He moved to her side and read the messages alongside her.
I miss you both too. But I need to do this. I have a purpose. So do you. Find it. I'll see you soon.
"How does she even know this—Oh. Pyschic. Nevermind." Jasper muttered.
Bella tried to blink away her tears, but there was no way to stop the longing she felt. She brought the phone to her heart and sank to her knees, "I can't do this anymore, Jasper. I can't. Every time we get close, she's two steps ahead."
Jasper immediately sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. Softly, he ran his hand through her hair, gently guiding her head to his chest.
"I need…I need to make sure she'd safe." She choked out between sorrowful moans.
The phone started ringing. There was no pause has Bella answered it.
"Mom." Her voice sounded so different. It was still the same musical tone, but it sounded older.
"Cilly? Oh God. My baby."
"Mother. I'm safe. Stop crying now."
"DON'T YOU DARE—" Bella shouted, frustrated, "—TELL ME TO STOP CRYING! I haven't seen you in over a year, almost two. TWO. Have you any idea how heartbreaking that is?"
"You're an immortal supernatural anomaly. Your heart cannot break."
"It was a damn metaphor, you…bad girl."
She heard the laughter over the phone and felt her joy raise almost instantly.
"I promise. You'll see me soon. But you and Jasper need to stop hesitating. You've already grown to love each other. Why you haven't consummated that love is beyond me…And there are rarely things I can't understand."
"How can we—?"
"Don't ask stupid question, Mother. You can very much show that love. You are just too afraid. You're afraid you've fallen in love too quickly. Like you did before. He is not Edward!"
Bella didn't reply. She just turned to stare into the now brown eyes of the man she'd grown to love in a matter of months. She truly loved his eyes and would have to thank Cilantro for manipulating him into drinking her blood.
"Good. Continue to stare longing into his eyes. He'll kiss you in a few seconds. I'm hanging up now."
He was smiling smugly at her as he took the phone from her ears and stuck it into her jean back pocket.
Cilantro lied. He didn't kiss her. She kissed him.
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Somewhere, about the same time.
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Cilly smiled as she placed the phone of the kitchen counter. She'd played her part. It was up to them now to figure the rest out. She hadn't intended to intervene. But she didn't realize the effect her little game of Hide and Seek would have on her mother. It was only after seeing a vision of her mother running from Jasper did she decide to make the call.
Now though, she was regretting her decision. She missed them. The short time she'd spent with them after her birth didn't seem like enough.
No. She had to do this. There was a goal in sight. She would see them again. But for now, she had things to do.
"Eat slower. You'll get sick." She instructed softly, rubbing the child's back as she did.
He nodded and did as she said, "Was that really your mom?"
She smiled at his nervous query, "Yes. I may have unintentionally hurt her when I left. It wasn't something I anticipated."
He looked up at her with his curious brown eyes, "Do you think I had a mother?"
Cilly went still. It was an innocent question that felt so wrong. It reminded her of the hell this child had gone through. She may not have been alive for years, but her ability to feel emotions, read minds and see the future had an effect on her. It was a blessing that she could choose when to hear thoughts.
Jack was a boy who'd been to hell and back, but yet he held a curious innocence about him that made Cilly feel all the more protective.
"Yes. You did have a mother." The confirmation should have made him sad, but she felt his elation. Maybe he didn't fully understand her.
"Do you think she misses me?"
"She missed you very much."
He paused and like a light bulb going on, he understood, "Oh."
She opened her mind to him and felt his sadness seep into her bones. But instead of forcing joy back into him, she let him feel it. She didn't even reprimand him when he pushed his bowl of porridge away.
He let out a pained cry, his eyes already leaking salty tear. She hated the smell of tears, but pushed her distaste away. She took him into her arms and moved over to the sofa. There she let him curl into her lap, his head resting on her shoulders.
She let him cry into her shoulder, soaking up his despair as best she could. Softly, she rubbed his soft hair and hummed a tune her mother had been fond of.
A week ago, she had brought him to her temporary abode, an old unused cabin—two towns way from where she'd found him. She knew it would be difficult, bringing him along. But she did anyways. He had nothing to go back to.
She'd tried to find as much information as she could about him. His mother hadn't survived long after he was abducted. She killed herself on the one year anniversary of his abduction. He had an older teenaged brother, Anthony. The only information she could find on him was that he was in foster care. She'd thought to find him. But that was an empty avenue.
Anthony would be an obstacle if she brought him into Jack's life now.
His father died in service to the country. Anthony would follow in his father's footsteps and join the Army in a few years. He would live a good enough life if he stuck to that path. He would be married with kids by the age of thirty.
That was not a life she wanted for Jack. Jack had a bigger purpose.
The boy continued to cry. His throat had long gone sore, but still he cried loudly.
She let her fingers touch his temple. Then she showed him his mother, smiling brightly with her arms around him. It was an only an illusion, a lie. The lie might not have been the best choice, but she didn't care. She showed him what he needed to see.
His crying subsided to sniffs as the images danced around in his mind. His mother was beautiful, full of life. She was hugging him, laughing at something he said. He looked younger, happier. He could tell the difference between his present self and his past self. He was such a child back then.
Now his eyes were brutally open to the harshness of the world. There was a decision to be made, he thought. He would either continue to cry and be a child. Or he'd become someone grander. Someone who'd purge the world of monsters like the Dollmaker.
With that in mind, he let out one final sniff, sat up and wiped his eyes. When he looked at her, there was a fierce determination blazing in his brown orbs.
Cilly smiled, she'd just witnessed the beginning of the Jack-O-Lantern. His Genesis.
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He watched her as she slowly rearranged each flower meticulously. She was worried. She'd been worried ever since Forks. He didn't blame her. He just wished she didn't have that guilty look in her eyes. She blamed herself for their family's disbandment.
It was so like her to take that blame. He knew she was remorseful for trying to convince Bella to stay with Edward. She'd wanted to apologize for her behavior. But Jasper had already taken Bella and her daughter away.
How he wished they'd contacted him. At the very least to say that they were well. He wouldn't deny that the anomaly of Bella's transformation and her daughter were appealing, but he would forfeit his curiosity just to make sure they were safe.
As if sensing his mood, Esme spoke, "It's been three years. Why haven't they contacted us?"
He tried to sound positive, "They must have their hands full with Renesmee." He wasn't about to call the child that atrocious name Jasper decided upon. He was sure Bella had straightened out her brother-in-law's silliness with her daughter's name by now.
Esme nodded absently as she moved to the next vase, "Toddlers are a handful."
"Alice called while you were out in town. She said Edward will be home soon. She's coming back as well." That would cheer her up a bit.
It didn't. She suddenly snarled and threw the vase across the room, "Edward…I should ring that boy's neck!"
He was beside her in an instant, his arms circled around her, trying to stop her from breaking something else, "Esme. Calm down."
"How can I, Carlisle? He's coming back. After his ridiculous little adventure across the world. He's been wasting money chasing after her, when she doesn't even care! She doesn't love him. He should have seen that by now?"
"He loves her, Esme." He said, a bit patronizing.
She bared her teeth at him, "She doesn't love him, Carlisle. What does he think will happen if he finds her? She'll fall all over herself trying to get him back? He wanted to take her away from her daughter. He admitted to you that he wants the child dead. His own damn daughter!"
"We don't know what Renesmee is capable of."
She growled in frustration and pulled away from him, "I need to hunt."
He frowned but nodded. He watched her leave with a heavy heart. His family was falling apart. Unlike Esme, he knew where to put the blame.
Bella.
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Forks, WA
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Another bottle. Gulp. Cringe. Gulp. It was his routine for the past five years. Ever since the death of his daughter, Charlie Swan was a broken man.
Every day he felt the pain. The day he'd found out had been easy. At least then he had something to do to keep his mind off everything. He had to help the Cullens (those bastards) plan the service for his daughter. He had to tell her mother she was gone. He didn't get the chance to mourn.
Those days were easy. It was every day after that was misery.
Three miserable years, just him, his pain and alcohol. When he was a cop, he could never understand how people could waste their lives in drugs and alcohol. Now that was all he had to keep some of the pain away. At least when he was unconscious from drinking too much, he didn't feel as hopeless.
He cursed angrily when another bottle of beer seemed to evaporate without giving him any sort of comfort. He reached for another, but stopped short when he heard a sharp knock on the door.
No one came to visit him anymore. Billy had stopped long ago. So did Sue.
It took him a while to get out of his chair, but the insistent knocking pushed him towards the door. He let out an angry sound and pulled the door open.
The curse he'd been building up to, died on his lips when he saw the person standing on the doorstep, grinning madly at him.
No.
No.
"No." The girl's grin seemed to grow, "I am not your daughter."
He stumbled backwards and she moved forward, entering the house.
The door shut behind her quietly. But to Charlie, it sounded thunderous.
She spoke again, "Hello, Gramps."
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