The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt: Red
Pen name: BecauseSheCan
Pairing: Bella with mentions of Edward
Rating: M
Febrauary 14, 2009
Daria,
I missed a day. Well not really a day was stolen from me. Someone took twenty four hours of my life away from me, and I mean I used to sleep away twenty four hours of my life, but I don't have that kind of time anymore. I don't need anyone taking something that has suddenly become so fucking precious, I don't need to deal with fucking ego's, or politics, all I want to do is wait for this to end. I want to die. I do, but I sure as hell do not want some old fucking man drugging me and making this shit harder. I want to choose the when and how, I want to do this right. Sometimes I wonder why the hell they don't ever show Superman or Sherlock Holmes dealing with all the red tape. Not that I am a superhero or a fucking brilliant detective but honestly I am trying to do a bit of good here right?
I should probably explain.
Yesterday we went to Professor Hunt; he was the contact Justin found in his father's journal. I was nervous and I think Justin was too, I mean we were excited of course, but we had no idea what to expect. We had no idea what type of man this guy was, but we couldn't not take the chance. At least we thought we couldn't not take it. Now I wish I had, I wish we had.
Of course when we got there we felt safe. Professor Hunt was this really frail man in his late seventies. He wore these adorable black glasses, and I just wanted to give him a hug. I barely remember my grandparents but he looks like what I imagined they would end up like. His home was warm; it smelled like books and cinnamon.
There was nothing controversial about this man. Nothing, nothing that could have hinted… that could have made me think…
We stumbled our way into the conversation, I mean we knew that he studied Vampires and the articles we found on him suggested that he knew they were real. I mean he veered very far from the traditional mythology surrounding them but we didn't know for sure. He sat there, his blue eyes watching us half focused half amused. I guess he was just humoring us because when we finally got to the prophecy he took over. He asked us questions, he wanted to see my scar, he asked what we learned what we thought, how it could be interpreted. We gave him information, we were so anxious to share and talk this through with someone that we shared too freely, we gave too much away. Still even then I didn't know, I mean I felt comfortable with him, I trusted him, and everything about him drew me to him. I still can't believe he was all bad; I still kind of regret what happened. Maybe I just can't think ill of anyone, maybe I want to believe in humanity if I am risking everything to save us. Maybe, maybe, maybe, everything about my life lately has been filled with maybes.
The last memory I have from yesterday is sitting in Professor Hunt's study discussing the prophecy. Even that is fuzzy, I remember being sleepy but I figured it was due to the tea and the fireplace. It could have also been his voice, it was soothing, and after about five minutes of him telling us everything he knew my mind started to wander. It became harder to keep my eyes open but I fought it because I didn't want to be rude. I didn't want to offend him, and because what he was saying was pretty damn important. So I sat there waging a war against my eyelids as he told us everything. I mean everything, all we had to do was give him the pieces of the puzzle and he put them together for us.
I just wish I can remember what he said.
My memories from after the tea are blurry. There's little scenes, images without words, words without images, I keep trying to stitch it all together but it still doesn't make any sense. I remember this one bit, where I asked what the final barrier must be broken meant and told me that half of that part of the process was already done but it had to be done both ways. He pointed at the scar on my hand. The final barrier. I have to change? I asked him, he shook his head and smiled. He has tasted your blood, now you must taste his. But he doesn't have blood, Justin said, and the man just smiled at us. Maybe he does have blood, or maybe the venom is his blood, but how? Wouldn't me taking his venom make me a vampire, and him drinking my blood shouldn't have any effect on him. I didn't understand, he told me I needed to trust the prophecy, then he said something else but I can't quite remember it is there on the edge on my consciousness but it's not there. I can't…. GOD DAMN IT. I don't understand why he would tell us everything, if he knew he was going to do this to us, it makes no sense. But maybe the only reason he told me everything was because he knew I wouldn't remember.
He knew Justin wouldn't remember, that had to planned right? I hope it was, is that wrong? I hope he didn't just randomly decide to kill Justin when we got there, if it was planned there was a reason to it, if it was planned than I can feel better, I don't even know why thinking like this is making me feel better but it is. Justin's face is the clearest part of my night. I woke up sometime between being drugged and being rescued. I don't think it was suppose to happen, maybe I didn't drink enough, maybe he thought he would be ready for me to wake up, I don't know. But for whatever reason I woke up bound and gagged on the chair, half out of my mind, and scared shitless until I saw Justin on the ground, except he wasn't bound. He was just lying there. Still. Pale. There was blood pooled around his head, and I thought of his father. All Blood Flows Red. His blood, my blood, Jessica's blood. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to scream, I wanted to rush to him and save him, I didn't think much about saving my own ass. No self-preservation instinct as Edward would tell me. If I had I might have thought about the fact that screaming would alert the professor to my being awake. If I had I might have thought about the fact that he would try and shut me up. If I had I might not have had him swing a damn shovel at my head.
It turns out my blood flows red too.
And now I am here, in this room a bandage on my head, drugs at my side. I wish I knew who saved me but they have to be humane to bandage me up and take care of me right? The sheets are soft, the blanket is luxurious, I could almost believe I was at a hotel if there were any windows around. Once again I find myself at someone else's mercy. This shit is getting old pretty quickly.
All kinds of fucked up,
Bella.