Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and all character names. This plot belongs to the author, IReen H.

No copyright infringement is intended or expected. Respect.


A/N: I've gotten some reviews asking if the B/J storyline will converge with Edward's. They will. I don't know if it will happen during the witfit or not, just seeing where the prompts take me.

P.S. Thanks for reading! Lots of love!


Word Prompt: Element

Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about new discoveries.


Masen takes the corner at a run, hopping a Labrador on a leash, putting his head down to find overdrive.

You can't leave people alive, not the dangerous ones. If you have to shoot, shoot to kill.

Aro always means what he says.

You don't let people off with warnings.

We are all insects undeserving of mercy.

Life is pain.

His head is full of his breathing, his lungs are full of metal, molten, smoking. His limbs obey the urgency of his adrenalin. His mind churning to find a path out of this fucking mess.

Contingency plans are considered and discarded.

You cannot win a won game, Edward.

He knows where this path ends.

When we can't run anymore, we hide. Or we fight.

Or we kill.

Or be killed.

God, I don't want to kill anyone.

The .38 tucked into his belt is loaded. Its weight is insignificant. Everything in this moment feels insignificant. Except oxygen.

Never discount the element of surprise. But never rely upon it, either. Strength, Edward. Superiority.

All options lead to checkmate.

Fuck it.

He slows to a walk, not looking over his shoulder, not paying heed to the silent surroundings. The ramshackle buildings making up the industrial complex slouch and decay in the corners of his eyes. All there is, in this moment, is the whipped breeze off the water, the weight of the weapon, the increasing proximity of steps behind him, and dread.

But also clarity.

What is more powerful, the capacity to kill, or the perceived capacity to kill? Is the reality of the thing more than the perception of it? If he has the capacity and people don't fear him—is that worse than not having it?

I am not afraid, but I need others to be.

The economy of his motion resides in precision. In his decision. Made. In awareness and timing. He stops, steps, pulls the gun, flicks the safety.

Pulls the trigger.

I am the dangerous one.