I know, it's super short :P But hey, I didn't expect to be writing anything for a couple weeks, and I probably won't write any big chapters for a little while, so I'd suggest you take what you can get :P
So, wow, WOW. Thank you ALL soooo much for all your amazing reviews, and thank you for understanding my whole life thing. Makes me smile knowing that you'd still read, even though my postings are erratic and sometimes spread out pretty far. But anyways, here's the chapter :) Don't own twilight!
-moonstruckmanda
There's only been a few times I've taken these staires at human speed. It'd be boring, if it weren't for Bella being here. I pointed out who's room belonged to whom as we passed, ignoring the thoughts coming from Rosalie's. Suddenly, Bella stopped, staring at my father's fathers' cross hanging on the wall as though it were the most funniest, most ironic thing she'd ever seen. Which, I suppose it might have been. A religious cross, in the middle of a house of vampires. And the story behind it, as well, is ironic. I laughed, guessing that she wanted to do the same, but was trying not to.
"You can laugh. It is sort of ironic." She didn't laugh, which frustrated me. I thought I'd at least have had her basic facial expressions figured out.
Extremely frustrating. But instead, she raised her hand as if to touch it, but didn't. "It must be very old."
"Early sixteen-thirties, more or less," I added a shrug, to me it was nothing but to her...
"Why do you keep this here?"
"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle's father."
"He collected antiques?" Obviously, she must have thought Carlisle was around the same age as me. Or hadn't even thought about it. I feared telling her, Carlisle's age might make this all too real for her.
"No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."
There, that was the first of expressions I expected. Shock. Next to come was fear, maybe, disbelief? Soon she'd realize she wanted no part in my life, this would be a lot to take in for any normal human, and run off.
I would not follow her.
...I think.
I waited for the other expressions, but none of the ones I expected came. She was calculating the years. She was still shocked, but not repulsed or frightened. Her eyes held none of that.
"Are you all right?"
"How old is Carlisle?"
"He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday." She looked at me, not frightened at all, but curious. Thousands upon thousands of questions swam around in her eyes, pleading for my answers. I decided to tell her, she's told me so much about her. Not hardly enough, but quite a bit. "Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though. He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He lef hunts for witches, werewolves...and vampires."
I saw her freeze at the word, and logged it in my mind not to bring up the word much more. She may be comfortable around me, but obviously she isn't as comfortable with what I am as she lets on. I rejoiced, a small bit, at this fact at the same time as I was upset by it.
"They burned a lot of innocent people-" I heard Carlisle shaking his head in disgust, sitting in his office. He remembered that, thinking he was right at the time, unknowingly helping kill innocents. Though he did, when he took over the hunting, kill less than his father, take more caution about who and what he hunted, he still felt absolutely awful when he did finally find an actual vampire, and knew instantly that those he had killed, those that had burned over all these years by himself or by his father, were all innocent. At the time he had found the actual vampires, though, he didn't have much time to feel sympathy for them... "of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch. When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a dissapointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived. The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course..."
I had to pause to laugh. Lot of good a pitchfork would do. And a torch, the fire wouldn't have time to catch on the vampire before the human weilding the weapon would be dead.
"and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged. He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisel heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle - he was twenty-three and very fast - was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street."
I was choosing my words carefully. She might already know the way to be transformed, for Hollywood has guessed right at that much at least, you need to be bitten to become one of us, but I'd rather not chance her finding out if she didn't already know.
"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned - anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered."
Remembering my own transformation, its hard to believe he actually succeded in controlling his screams. I had no control over what sounds left my mouth. The pain was too much, I couldn't think, I didn't care.
"It was over then, and he realized what he had become." I looked over at her, sure that she would be at least a bit frightened by now, but what I found almost shocked me, but not quite, since it fit so well with what being Bella was all about. She was shocked, yes, but also sympathetic for Carlisle. Very Bella. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," he assured me, and she bit her lip. I watched as the colour of her lip under her teeth started to change to a lighter shade of pink, and bit back my shiver. I quickly looked up to her eyes, and saw more questions. Her curiosity was just as strong as mine, it seemed.
"I expect you have a few more questions for me."
"A few." I grinned, and pulled her back to the direction of Carlisle's office.
"Come on, then. I'll show you."
Strangely enough, I was excited to show her Carlisle's world. My world. Her reactions drove me mad, not knowing the reasons or thoughts behind them, but they also fascinated me. She fascinated me. She always will.
Super short, I know. If I have time I'll write more tonight, but it won't be posted tonight I'm pretty sure. I've got a huge headache from typing this much (My glasses are broken, and it hurts to look at the screen.) so it might take a few days...or weeks -_- Not sure, but we'll see. Thanks for reading :) Later!
