Yes! New update ... sorry it took me so long. It's rather graphic, and bloody. Assume that Edward has gone a little mad at the loss of Bella and is in denial.

WARNING: THIS IS GRAPHIC AND BLOODY. EVEN IF YOU THINK THAT THIS IS NOT HOW EDWARD WOULD REACT, THIS IS JUST A STORY. I ACCEPT NO FLAMES, AND DON'T BE ANGRY. YOU ARE WARNED.

Edward

I could already smell the anesthetic in the air. I knew where I was going - I knew that I would not like what I saw. I didn't want to see what I had done, but I was still running, running. I couldn't stop, I couldn't see, I couldn't hear. My mind was roaring in a thousand different voices, blending together so that no one voice could be heard. It was screaming in confusion, like the roar of a crowd panicking as it runs away from an imminent monster. Only in my head it sounded like the crowd multiplied by the thousands, all screaming in my ears as I ran. My head spun, my vision blurred, as I grew nearer and near to my destination.

The wind whipped past me, but I could hear nothing – not the thoughts that ran through others heads, not the sounds of my feed crushing the underbrush, not the wind whipping and screaming in my ears. The only thing that I could hear was the voices, the screaming that did not cease.

What I would see would crush me. I could already tell, with or without Alice's talent. I could smell the blood of the patients lingering inside. The human blood that boiled inside of me made me faster, stronger, swifter. The one strand of hope that I clutched desperately onto was shredding away into pieces as I ran closer and closer, blurring past trees and brush. The trees grew thinner and light shone dimly between their intertwining branches, the hazy light blinked between the moss-covered trunks of the surrounding trees. As the trees began to fade, I froze.

The asylum stood, blindingly white, out against the hazy light that filtered through the fog. Still shrouded by the increasingly shrinking cover of trees, I moved forward slowly, reaching out to touch the trees that I passed. The screaming in my head swelled, pressing in on my from all sides, and I dug my fingers deeper into the wood, leaving empty holes in the trunks of the trees. I took a hesitant step forward, toward the door of the asylum. The screaming escalated. Still I felt a pull toward the ominous white building – tugging at the deepest pits of my stomach and wrenching at the strings in my silent heart.

The door stood before me, an obstacle in my path. She was waiting behind it, in a condition unknown by me. The glaring white light bounced off of the walls, giving my skin a dim glimmer. The knob glinted in the blinding light, taunting me, almost seeming to spin, to turn by itself. It was waiting for me to open it, for me to receive my torture.

I reached out a pale, trembling hand and grasped the knob. Even against my freezing skin it felt chilled, colder than the chill of death. I paused with my hand on the knob, my fingers wrapped firmly around the smooth metal, the voices screaming in my ears as two side, to enemies.

I could hear the voices screaming to open the door, to twist the knob, that it would be ever so quick to see her, that I needed to see her. At the same time they were screaming to turn back, that I was no longer a part of her life, that she would reject me, that I would only be doing harm. They rose as I turned the knob slightly, ever so slightly. Then my resolve gathered and I wrenched open the door.

The voices in my head screamed louder, louder, until I could hear nothing except them and the pounding of the noise that enveloped me. It was dark inside, darker even than my eyes could see well in. As my eyes adjusted, the voices gathered in one continuous roar.

"NO!"

Before me lay a contorted body huddled in the corner of the blackened room. Ragged, matted hair placed a curtain between me and the human, blocking my view of the face. I already knew who it was.

Blood ran down her arms like rivers, soaking her clothes and the padded walls, staining everything around me an even darker crimson. Bloodshot, yellowed eyes rose to meet mine as the curtain shifted to part. Sallow, sunken cheeks stretched as dry, cracked lips opened to scream in a bloodcurdling shriek. The voices that had swirled around me were silenced, drowned in the wail that chilled me to the very bone, to the deepest, darkest, most hidden part of my heart.

Her scream rang on forever, penetrating me in every way. It swallowed me, pierced me, stabbed at my every empty vein. It went on and on, ringing through every room in the building, warning others of my presence.

I shook my head, not wanting to believe it.

"No," I whispered, "No.

"This isn't her. You aren't her."

It couldn't be. I left her to live a life as a human, a natural, happy life. She's living that. This is not her. She's not in an asylum, she's not suffering. This is not her. My mind refused to accept that this was the angel that I had left, that this was Bella. It rejected the idea the moment it was formed with thought.

I was filled with rage, with fury. Someone was trying to trick me, to torture me. This was nothing more than a trap, a trick. This yellow-eyed thing was here to taunt me at leaving her, it was not Isabella Swan. Isabella was living a fulfilling life, the life that I had wanted her to have. I lunged at the creature that mocked me, that was placed here only to cause me agony. I tore at its throat, spilled its blood until it soaked the entire room. I sought to do more but was dragged back, held by my father, whom I was barely able to recognize in my rage. Alice held my arms, Carlisle held my shoulders, dragging me out of the room. I tore at them, so enraged that I was raging to destroy the thing that caused me excruciating pain. My father and sister drew me out of the building, and I sagged in their arms exhausted, eyes as red as the blood that dripped from my hands.

As I said, Edward is mad and in denial. Yes, he just killed Bella, but he's insane and believes that it was a creature that was taunting him for leaving Bella. This is not the end, and will be one more chapter, two at the most.

NO FLAMES. I REPEAT – NO FLAMES.