Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine.
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, but my computer died on me, yet again. The third time in two years - to be honest, I should learn. Apparently I haven't, so my computer crashed on me. So, after a phenomenal amount of money and the entire chapter being deleted (just my luck really), I have finally got around to writing this up. So, here we go!
Love and Pain Go Hand in Hand
Chapter 11 ~ The Hunt
To come to terms with the full implications of my decision was hard. I wanted retribution, I wanted Peter to suffer what I was suffering, but to achieve this by killing Charlotte - she was pretty much an innocent. Wouldn't that be tantamount to murder, making me just as bad as Peter?
Then I would remember seeing the life drain from Harry's eyes, his last words, his taken life. I saw that scene all too often in my mind's eye, likening everything it could in the many places I visited, making me once again loathe Peter as the parasite he was, allowing me to justify murder. I loathed myself at times.
For months I roamed across the country, trying to come up with other options whilst tracking Peter and Charlotte. I often fought with myself, and nearly won many times, pleading the innocence of Charlotte. Then, each and every time, my mind pulled up Harry's last moments; Peter greedily bent over my soulmate, the loss I'd felt, the anger I now harboured. Then, my murderous, savage, revenge-driven devil called for someone, anyone to pay. It cried for punishment - mate for mate, love for love, life for life. After all, what less did Peter deserve?
The hunt became my life. The further I travelled, the more my obsession grew. Everything I planned for was a plan for vengeance. Everything I looked forward to involved a hatred of Peter. I became the hunter - it was my life, my self and my being.
Occasionally, I stopped to wonder what Harry would have thought of me. Each time I shuddered away from the thought. After all, Harry was so kind, and so caring and so loving and peaceful and calm. He would have despised me ruining my life in anger and hatred. He would have forgiven me, but never my actions. So, I didn't often think of Harry's reaction to me, for fear of losing my desire for revenge.
In suffering my loss and searching for retribution, I began to lose myself. I became self-pitying and self-loathing, driving myself into the destructive rut of an unhealthy obsession. Instead of heeding my internal warnings and indecisiveness, I fought harder, and chased Peter down with more fury than I thought could possibly be held in this wolven carcass. I hunted faster and searched harder than before as my humanity began to slip further from me.
Over time, I stole closer and closer. Gradually, the vampires' scent became stronger and newer as I crept up on them. I focused myself on the fight that I knew would be coming. I also knew that, though she was female, Charlotte would be able to fight well from her training when she was with the newborn "army". I plotted more effectively, remembering as many tactics as possible as I prepared myself to fight with her.
I also planned to sneak up on Peter, catch him off-guard, just as he did with my Harry. He would be hunting me after I had killed Charlotte, if I killed Charlotte. After all, no vampire would let their mate's death go unpunished. So he would find me and we would fight and one of us would die. If I wasn't dead already, that is.
Whilst I was busy planning, the two went their separate ways - Peter went one way and Charlotte went another. I had no idea for the reasoning behind it, so I assumed that Peter was expecting me to follow him and try to kill him, whilst Charlotte would be saved. If he thought that, he was wrong. Then again, there were conversations that the Cullens wouldn't have been privy to, that they couldn't warn the couple about. Even so, Alice would have seen my decision and warned them... I couldn't fathom it, but followed the trail that led to Charlotte, just as I had planned.
I crept along, following the trail in my wolf form, until I got to a clearing. She was stood in the middle of it, her back to me, deep in thought. Looked like she was trying to enjoy her memories. She was perfectly still, too still for her state of mind to be stable. Despite the fact I couldn't see her face, I knew she would be frightened as she relived her time with the Southern covens of America and the fights she had fought in her first year. Once again, I was hit by a powerful sense of wrong-doing and the evil I would be committing if I followed through with this plan.
I began to turn when her voice rang clear and unwavering, through the clearing. "I know what you're planning, Leah. Peter doesn't, but I do. Finish it. End it, please." I walked forward tentatively. "Peter has done wrong by you. I was trying to stop it when he killed your mate. I'm sorry." Once again, I stepped forward, each step draining me of the revenge I had wanted to exact. After all, Charlotte had had nothing to do with it. She hadn't been the one draining the life from my Harry. She couldn't have known
I walked carefully around to watch and analyse her face. It could have been a front, so she could attack me when I turned my back, or so Peter could sneak up on me as I was absorbed by her speech. I didn't know, so I went to watch her face. As I slowly walked around her, she carried on speaking.
"Alice called me to say what you had decided. We knew you would have been following us as you tried to avenge your loved one in any way possible." I growled as she referenced Harry's brutal death into the conversation. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I wanted to, believe me, but there was no time. I couldn't have stopped him, not at all. No one could have. He was too determined. It would have happened in that moment or whether you tried to stop it or not. It was just a matter of when." She smiled gently. She was getting to me, trying to talk me out of my determination. It didn't matter what she had said before about sacrificing herself. She wouldn't. She wasn't that noble - no undead creature ever could be.
That brought out the uncontrollable anger from deep within me, a bubbling, boiling, deep-seated loathing, that had me lunging for her before I had consciously thought about my movement. These beasts seemed to get under my skin and cause reactions and didn't think possible in me.
She whirled around, faster than the human eye could see. Luckily, I wasn't human and turned on a sixpence to follow her across the clearing. I barely had time to right myself before I felt her trying to leap on me. I felt, once again, like I was fighting the newborns all those years ago. I felt the adrenaline pulse through my body in reaction to the fight or flight decision - I was choosing fight.
I lunged again, aiming for the throat. She darted backwards, avoiding my jaws, whilst trying to grab me and squeeze, just like a newborn. I thought she had never been taught anything else, and it seemed to me that she was relying on her instincts. I didn't dwell on whether that meant she was trying to kill me or not. I just followed her, whilst keeping out of the way of her mouth and therefore her venom.
She danced out of my way many a time, as I lunged hungrily for her. It seemed as if we were choreographing a routine for a B-rated Hollywood movie - the werewolf versus the vampire. My jaws snapped, her lethal arms tries to grab for me. Occasionally my teeth caught in her marble skin, and there was one less chunk of her. Occasionally, she would get a grip on me, but I would twist away.
This destructive dance seemed to last forever, but could have been no more than a few minutes. One endless moment of violence and hate. One snap of the jaws and it was all over.
The head rolled away from me as I continued to shred the marble. I refused to think I had killed an innocent. I refused to remember that I had destroyed someone - I reverted to the safety net of my old way of thinking. Vampires were things, not people. It was hard after so many years spent with the Cullens, but I managed. I rooted for something to start a fire with so the Peter didn't just piece her back together, because that wouldn't do anything except anger him. It wouldn't have the weight of the punishment I wanted it to.
I got the fire started eventually, by rubbing two sticks together, just like I was taught as a girl.
Then I had to run, just like I had run from Forks years and years ago. Last time it was because I was too human; this time it was because I was a monster and a murderer. No matter how I justified it.
