-.-
The End of a Bloodline
Chapter: 13. Watch me kill, and love me
Rated: M
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer created Twilight, not me.
I, on the other hand, created TEOAB – respect that
Beta: Gasaway Alley
Special shout out to Laurence Alex who helped me with the French!
A/N: NB! This picks up in chapter 11 - so Isabella is still in the house in the
beginning of this… keep that in mind. Sorry if it causes confusion. I think, though,
that this chapter will answer a lot of questions, and perhaps turn some heads…
Side warning post-posting: This chapter contains somwhat graphic violence/torture etc. Step at own risk.
-.-
"The silent treatment? Brother, have you watched soap operas again?"
Cackles echo around the room as Alec's snide remark does not go unnoticed by the five occupants perched on various furniture in the room. The one in the dining room lets out an amused bark half way through his meal.
Lately, Alec has not allowed feeding in the house because of our human occupant, but this vampire remains adamant. And dangerous. Refusing to follow orders. Being obvious in his eating. Where most carve the bodies of our kills to look like animal attacks, the work of a human murderer, and so on, this one settles for the neck. Nothing else. He bites in and drains his victims, and disposes of them openly.
If he keeps up this blatant disregard for orders it, he will suffer at the hands of Alec. As the oldest, the Alpha, the one who allows vampires in this house, Alec feels it is his responsibility to make sure they all behave. Like running a kindergarten - cleaning up after the naughty children who spill their milk. There are no rules about keeping house. There are no kings and queens of the immortal world who follow up on violators. But there is an understanding between us all to keep hidden in the shadows, and those who do not agree and threaten us all, are killed.
Besides, no one likes a sloppy eater.
I growl at them all, and silence veils the room. Besides Alec, I am the oldest in the room. And with age comes strength, tactics, and strategies. I can kill all of them swiftly - tear off their limbs and burn the pieces before they draw another thought. But I won't, I've surpassed the stage where I kill out of annoyance.
"Oh don't be upset, Edward. Where is your sense of humor? Have a drink, relax."
This time, his attempt at a joke goes by unnoticed. The others think he's being serious; that he wants me to feed, but he's not funny. His crack at me is indiscreetly hinting that I should drink of Isabella. That I should get it over with. He thinks I won't be able to turn her when the time comes. He thinks I'll buckle at the taste of her, and drain her dry.
His lack of hope is disheartening.
Good thing my heart is dead.
"Oh I don't want to spoil my appetite, Alec, but you can go… take these lowlifes with you. A good group hunt. Why don't you call your pet?"
Eyes shift between us, anxious to hear our landlord's response.
For me, this is amusing. Just three hundred years ago I wouldn't dare to say something like that to him. Now I spout off snide remarks like I really am his brother, equal in strength and age. Although, in times of dire seriousness, I know to hold my tongue.
"Leave."
Within a second, the room is empty. When Alec speaks, they obey. The dinner in the dining room is abandoned, and I can smell the small amount of blood left in the girl. Young…virgin… I got a look at her when the vampire brought her in; tattered and worn. A homeless girl, most likely, or a battered child. Either way, the scent of her blood is slightly distracting, and at first I don't hear what my maker says.
"I've told you before, and I will not say it again. Talk to me like that again, and I will tear your head off."
"So serious, Sire?"
He scowls and bares his teeth. His entire stance changes, and by instinct, my right foot slides back a bit, my knees bending.
He lets out a growl. "The jokes are only fun for a little while, brother. Like your little girl upstairs."
"And yours is so much different?"
He cracks a crooked smile. "Very much so. At least she knows what will happen to her. Her insanity is my pleasure. Yours is… so resistant. I've said it before, fuck her or suck her, but do it soon. I'll only tolerate her presence in this house for so long. She's has already caused a ruckus in the lines."
"We are not at war. You can't possibly think these trash-rats are your soldiers."
He shakes his head, and clenches his fist. I do the same, never stepping back. The moment I do, he'll have my head. Retreating is a weakness he does not tolerate.
"If they are, then this house is my Army base. That makes you my Executioner Generale, or at least, bosatta torterare. Speaking of torture, how's our French friend doing?"
I growl.
"You knew he was a loose cannon, yet you let him into this house knowing he'd break. You knew he'd go for her throat!"
"I was hoping you would break before him," he says sarcastically, and the spite in his voice makes me want to take back my accusation. "Really, what do you think of me, brother? After all this time, all these years… this is how highly you think of me?"
I don't. Not really. Throughout the centuries, we have been each other's companions. I feel more of a family connection to him, than I ever did to my human family. Although I call him Sire out of spite at times, he is more a father and a brother, than anyone else have ever been to me. I owe him my life - because he granted me eternity, and I have never held any ill against him for it.
Losing up my stance, I shake my head. "No."
"Because it wasn't me who lunged at her… it was him. He's the one who almost killed her, because he's young and foolish. He almost killed your mate, Edward." As he emphasizes on mate, I cringe. I still remember the agony he laid upon me when I killed Rosalía. He calls me a torturer? All I know have I learned through him - through my own pain. But I know the pain he made me feel was only a projection of his own ache.
And it's a hurt I don't wish upon anyone.
Anyone, but those who do the same to me.
Because Laurent almost managed to inflict that pain on me, he suffers alone. In the basement is a remodeled room with concrete walls and a steel door separating him from one of his arms and legs. For a healthy vampire, the concrete and steel would take little effort to get past. But for him, not so much. He's wounded, starved- crazed.
The thought of his pain makes me grin.
The thought of her shedded blood makes my venom boil.
"It was him who did that, brother. Him. And what would you do then? Walk alone? Without your mate?"
Alec's words echo off the walls, and hit me from all angles. The thought of life without her seems vaster and colder. The life I live is glorious and dark, but without her, it would be reduced to simply feeding. Alec went through those motions for hundreds of years - but then again, he got over his loss because she was a bitch. Plain and simple - she wasn't his, but a whore. And that's how I found her: riding an Italian peasant, sucking him dry in all ways possible - and that's why I killed her. Sick of her volatile actions, deceit, and pure evilness.
But Isabella? She's a pure woman. In mind. In soul. Her eyes are haunted, but her past cannot be anything compared to mine. Past her eyes, she's beautiful in body - though withering in this house. Yet I want her. Her bite and bark sets off a spark in me - and I want to devour her body.
Knowing she's not given in to me yet is the only reason I haven't fucked her against the walls.
Because that's how I want to change her.
Have her human body screaming as I bite down on her arteries. Change her as she moans my name.
The only difficulty will be not stopping. Bleeding my meals dry as I'm still inside them is nothing new. It is something Alec introduced me to during the French revolution - when the women were desperate to find wealthy men. We stole clothes and walked the streets at night, having our pick of whores. We killed them in ecstasy.
To be her changer… her teacher. Her lover.
Now that is what I call belonging to me fully.
But Laurent is a threat to that. His sheer existence represents the possibility of me living in loneliness.
"He could have killed her. So easily…" Alec pushes.
I see red. My eyes change color, and in a split second, I'm downstairs. The door falls off its hinges. He looks up, dull brown eyes full of horror, hiding behind black dreadlocks. His body looks incomplete without the arm, and there is still seeping venom from the cut where the top of his thigh used to be. He begged when I tore it off… I reveled in the sound.
He shakes in his bonds - simple cuffs are too hard for him to fight - and he knows. His time has come. His death has arrived.
I am Le Executioner Generale.
Crazed, I circle him slightly crouched. Teasing. Taunting. Telling. "Slow, or fast. How would you like to go?"
It doesn't matter what he answers. It will be drawn out. Like my pain would have been had I not stopped him that night.
Standing behind him, I hold his neck in one hand, while the other goes to his right ear. The sound of a plea escapes his lips just as I pull… black flesh paints the side of his head, and I throw the ear to the corner, hitting the floor with a faint sound compared to his screams.
"Non. S'il vous plaît. Arrêtez! Je ne voulais pas la blesser. S'il vous plaît. Ne me tuez pas."
His pleas go in one ear and out the other - even if I do understand his French ramblings. My time during the revolution taught me enough for me to understand him, but pleading to let him live is fruitless.
Circling to stand right in front of him, I smile menacingly at him… and rip out an eye from its socket. More venom pours from his body as limps are strewn around.
Nose.
Lips.
I place my hands on either side of his ribcage, and press inwards. He cracks and screams. If he could cry, he would be weeping a river. Stepping back, I look down on my masterpiece. In the wooden chair sits only the shredded upper body of a pitiful excuse of a vampire.
Before his attempt to kill Isabella, he had been a poor tactician.
He has no preference.
He's only five years into his immortal life.
Five years is as far he'll go.
I'm doing him a favor, if anything. An excruciating favor, but still. His reckless and messy hunting would have gotten him killed down the line anyways.
I'm just speeding up the process.
Though prolonging it.
Hours waste by, and I alternate between ripping off and reattaching his limbs. His pleas, though fainter, are like music to my ears. I'm giddy. I circle him, bounce off the walls in fearful attacks, and even sing little hunting songs I knew as a child. Passed down from the Viking lords, I hum the tunes of the songs they sang as they pillaged villages and villagers...
Upstairs, I hear the living room has filled with bloodthirsty prowlers, but they're all silent.
I cannot smell Alec.
Focusing back on the mess of a vampire, I lean over him, and whisper into the sucking hole that used to be inside his ear.
"Any last words?"
His head hangs, and no sound escapes him. Had he been human, one would think he was passed out, but in reality it's his body slowed down - his venom pumping through him trying to restore itself.
Off comes his head…
-.-
Isabella's body jerks and writhes on the mattress.
I stand in the darkest corner, soundless.
The moon shines through the window, the curtains drawn apart.
She's illuminated.
Like an angel in the dark bleakness.
Her sweater, my sweater, is filled with patches of blood and dirt from the floor. Her smell is not nearly as nice as when I first took her, but the aroma of her blood overpowers the stench. She is beautiful though, and Laurent is just one example of what I will do to protect her.
I will kill for her. Again and again.
Slaughter the world, if it came to it.
To keep her safe… keep her mine. Half of me wants her to see what I've done, but the other half knows she won't understand. She's not complete yet. Once she becomes a vampire, she will see the sacrifices I've made, and admire my work.
It's just a matter of time.
But her writhing intensifies, and words slip by her lips. "Tyler. No. Jasper. Mommy." I frown. I don't like it when she does this. She hasn't talked about her nightmares. I hoped she would when I told her about my past. But to no avail. Her lips are sealed.
The front door opens.
Alec joins the house.
I rejoin him in the living room.
But he's livid. When I arrive down the stairs, the limbs of a body is dumped to the floor. First I think it's Laurent, but the light flesh reveals otherwise.
"What's this?"
"This, brother, is the result of sloppiness."
The others cower back against the walls. I am the only one standing unafraid. No one speaks. They just watch the body with tremors. Alec kicks the head closer to them, and they all understand the action, and recognize the face. It's the sloppy eater who brought his dinner to the house.
"I was under the impression I told you to watch him." The question is not directed to anyone specific, and I turn to stand beside him. Side by side, we are the lords of the manner, even if I am only the heir. "Yet I find him on his way here, holding a fully conscious human in his arms. Screaming.They were noticed," he snaps, and they simultaneously wince. I would too, if I had been on the receiving end of his wrath.
"Burn it. Go. Outside the city. Find somewhere remote. And you," he points to a burly creature at the end of the line. "Take the body in the basement."
They disappear out into the dark night, but it's only hours until dawn will break. Before he can say anything, I try to weasel my way out of my duties. "I should stay to watch for her. A stray might pass and smell her."
But it's shut down on the spot. Alec growls, and now I'm the one cowering. "You bury the bodies which fall at your hand. You know that, brother. It may not be the law, but it's respect for the dead. Don't pass on your responsibility to minions."
"But wha-"
"Heidi is coming. I'll bring up the human's food myself."
I nod, and run after the others, catching up to the burly one who holds the pieces of Laurent.
-.-
Knowing Alec is adamant on keeping our location under wraps from others - considering the risk of them being older, stronger, and able to overpower us if it came to it - I lead the young ones far away from New York City. It's tiresome. Never before have we stayed in one location for so long, and the repetitiveness of it all is just… dull. So over the years we've been here, I've always taken joy from venturing outside the city lines. Once in a while, when needed- a stray vampire gone amuck, or disciplinary actions gone too far - I've killed my kindred kind, just to have an excuse to leave.
An excuse to wander off and feel the wind as I run.
Eventually we stop, in a dark and untamed forest southwest of the city. "Start a fire," I command, and they all spread out to collect wood, while the two carrying the limbs stay put. In seconds, the rest return, and set up a big fire. There's no snow, and the fire rises without trouble. Minutes tick by, and I watch the flame intently.
Like I did when I killed my father.
Like I did when I killed Rosalía.
And now another enemy is put to the ground.
Taking the head from the burly one's arms, I look into the brown eyes of the last threat to Isabella. Holding it by the black locks, I throw it into the flames, hearing it sizzle, and smelling the disgusting odor of burnt hair and flesh.
I watch it turn to ash, and then toss the rest in.
"Throw all of it in," I tell the one holding the sloppy eater's limbs.
They all watch with trepidation. Those flames represent our undoing. Our end. I've heard you feel it when you burn, that you scream loud, but soundless. Then again, no one survives the flames. So who could possibly have told how it feels?
Then their eyes locate me, with the same amount of fear. Because the flames are not their only undoing. I am as well. They dread my wrath as much as they do Alec's, and respect my age as much as his, with good reason. Some might have heard about me back in Europe, but they all have witnessed me killing.
"Sir," the burly one says cautiously. He's bigger than me. Taller. But only twenty years into his immortal life. Had we been human, there's no doubt he'd kill me easily, but I have age as the upper hand. I can read him faster than he can process his own thoughts.
"Yes?" I snap.
"The sun," he quivers, and points to the sky. The orange tinted sky.
"Run."
-.-
Running north, we find a cabin lost in the forest. Probably a lumberjack cabin years ago, but the woods are thick and deep now. No man has cut down a tree here in several decades. The roof is overgrown with grass, and a dead tree leans against it. Moss has taken refuge around the broken windows, and the tar used to coat the wooden walls has long since flaked off.
We burst through the door as the sun starts to tingle on my skin. It's a warm tingle, annoying. The build up to the fiery pain shouting through you. Inside the cabin, everything is dark and broken. A table, some chairs, and old beds. Two barricade the windows swiftly using the beds and tables, so fast I'm almost impressed, as the rest simple sit down on the floor. Engulfed in darkness.
And then there's the wait for the sun to set.
Time passes differently for us.
Even if we feel every second passing by, we can easily make them pass faster by shutting down. We don't sleep. We don't breathe. We can sit still, as if we were turned to stone, and be. Though, again, even that can become tiresome and boring.
The burly one begins to fidget.
"Stop it," I snap, and open my eyes. He's already to his feet, towering over us all with his six feet-five inc frame. In some ways, he's a lot like Alec - muscles, southern European features, but he's American. I get to my feet. "What is your name?"
"Marcus."
"Well, Marcus, stop fidgeting or I'll throw you out."
"I haven't fed in three days! I'm going crazy."
It's typical for a young one, not being able to control himself when he's thirsty. I used to be like that… mere hours without blood running down my throat would turn me frantic in search. But years taught me discipline.
He has neither years nor discipline.
His eyes are crazed, hinting red, and I already know his next move. Stepping left to block the door, I warn him, "The sun is high. Do you really want to risk being left for dead? No one will save you from the sun. And it will put you to the ground before you get anywhere."
But he doesn't listen. He charges, and because he's a pain, and young, and needs a lesson, I step to the side. The rest cower in the furthest corner, hiding from the sun which shines through the door as he throws it open. His whine comes out as a gasp. I don't let out a sound, feeling the warm tingle explode into a prickling pain as I stand in the opening. He stops just ten feet from the entrance, turns around for a moment, looking at me bewildered and obviously in pain.
"Go get 'em, tiger," I taunt, and then slam the door shut. His footsteps speed up and then fades away, and I turn to look at the cowards. "Anyone too hungry to wait?"
They all shake their heads, but don't move. Five vampires…scared… hiding in the corner from the big bad sun. It's pathetic. I tell them. They don't talk back. I sit down with my back against the door, and for hours, I sit there and simply look at them. They don't move. They stand, until the warmth of the sun goes away, and the cold night takes over.
We run back.
But five hundred yards from the cabin, north of the cabin, we find Marcus. He lays lifeless on the damp forest floor. "Stop." They come to a halt, and circle their wounded kinsman. I crouch down beside him, and lift up his head. His eyes plead "help me", but where would be the fun in that? I had to learn my lesson the hard way, why shouldn't he?
Besides…the sun won't kill him, and these woods are deserted. The chances of anyone coming by and killing him are slim to none, and animals instinctively shy away from us at all times. Wounded or not.
The days are short, anyways. He'll be able to crawl back to the cabin over time.
"I told you so, didn't I?" I taunt. "I hope you'll learn from your mistake."
I have learned from mine. Being gone, just for a day, has spun my head around. Not hearing Isabella's heart beat, listening to her breath, analyzing her sleep talk, it makes me feel like something is missing. I can only imagine me staying away from her has done to her. Driven her mad? Longing? Even if I've watched her sleep at night, she doesn't know. For a week, she has been isolated from me…
I grimace.
Then I turn to the others. "Go. Feed. Take a day." They don't move. Idiots. They don't understand. "Go!"
They run off into different directions, disappearing between the dark tree trunks. Without spearing Marcus a second glance, I take off as well, running as fast as I can to the house. To Isabella. To make her mine.
The snow starts falling when I close in on New York, and I speed up, pushing my legs faster and faster until finally, I reach the house.
But something is wrong.
It's dead silent.
No heartbeat.
I push the front door open, and my worst fear has become reality. Her scent fills the hall. And another human… Heidi? Alec isn't here, either. I run to the attic, and find the door wide open. No marks on it, and it's obvious she hasn't managed to break it up on her own. Then who?
I rage.
"Something wrong?"
I turn, and Alec is standing behind me. "She's gone. Where is she?" I demand, and step up to him. My chest touching his, I stare him right in the eyes, and push. He growls, pushing back, and before I can do anything else, he has me up against the wall. It cracks.
"Do not test me, brother. Control yourself."
He releases, I crouch. "Where is she? Who let her out?" But it's obvious. Too obvious. The smell of his little pet is strong. "Did she do this?"
"It's possible," he simply shrugs. "I left her alone for a couple of minutes…a stray passed by. He was… wild. New. I had to take care of him."
That's when I notice his clothes. Splotches of venom has penetrated his shirt, staining it, and I know just what he means by "taking care of him".
"You left her alone? She's human, Alec! Even if she is your pet, her loyalty still lies with her race! Where is she?"
"You think I'll tell you? I'm not that stupid, brother - and you will not go after her. I forgave you once, I won't do it twice."
I straighten up, and ask, "You hold her as high as you did Rosalía?"
Instead of answering, he turns his back on me, and leaves. Without a word, he leaves me in the attic alone, wondering what to do next. The moon hangs high on the sky, barely visible in the city lights.
I already know what to do.
Isabella.
Putting Alec's beloved pet on the backburner, leaving the consequences of her actions for later, I take off into the city night, running down alleys and narrow back roads. Buildings become a blur as I speed down the concrete pavements, hugging the walls to avoid the night-wandering humans.
Processing the places she could go, there are only so many places she can hide. The bar she worked at? That reeking man-infested dump is not a home for her. I saw her. When I killed the one she calls "Jasper", I'd found her the same night, and followed her. I have no idea why I waited so many days before doing anything, but I found her intriguing. So I watched her every time the sun went down, followed her as she walked home from that bar, with her head bowed and shoulders hunched.
So that leaves her apartment, and in mere minutes, I stand on the same rooftop I first met here. The scent of her I gone - the wind and the cold snow washed away her essence. I walk to the edge, and look down. The street is empty. A few blocks away a car alarm goes off. Her apartment is on the third floor, and I crouch down, and hold on to the ledge, as I plant my foot on the top of a window sill, and climb down.
At her window, I balance, holding on to the bricks on the wall - trying not to crush them, trying not to crush the sill beneath my feet. Her body writhes, even here. Even in her home, her dreams make her squirm. Peculiar. I inhale deeply, but the window blocks her scent, and I have to hold back a growl. I want her.
Now.
With me.
So I break up the window. It screeches. I watch her. She doesn't move. Instead she starts to mumble a name, but I pay it no mind. Instead I close in on her bed, and watch her… freshly washed hair… smelling of perfume and soap. The white sheets are tangled around her smooth white legs, and she hugs the cover to her chest… her breasts pressed together.
My basic instinct is to rip them off her, and fuck her hard into the mattress, but I manage to restrain myself.
She left me.
At the first sign of freedom from me, she took off… and came here?
That's something I don't understand; why return home when she knows it's the first place I'd look? Her mind boggles mine, and for several minutes, I contemplate letting her be. Leaving her forever. But no, I'm too selfish for that. I can't leave behind what's mine.
Time.
Yes.
All she needs is a little time, to see how the world she lives in is not the place for her. She belongs with the bloodthirsty men and women of eternity. Her fierce soul is build to kill. So I turn around, letting her be for now, and go out the window.
With my foot still on the still, she screams, and I fear she's seen me. Still, I climb up the wall quickly, and stare down from the ledge. Minutes pass, until her feet sound on the floor, and I see her head peek out. She speaks, and if I had a heart, it would break for her.
But as she utters these words "…I don't want to be with you," I say to myself: "you belong to me," and jump off the roof.
With my feet back on the pavement, I start to run, with a strange feeling, wondering why I didn't just take her. Like that first night I saw her through her window, slamming shut the front door and collapsing on her bed in exhaustion, shivering and writhing on the mattress until sleep took her. I watch her, until dawn breaks, absently rubbing at my chest every now and again. I think I'm tired, weary, run down. This human has managed to stir every desire in me I thought long ago squelched, killed and ripped apart like my enemies. She is my enemy. My life. I want something good, and that is the reason I don't take her, and why I return to the house, where Alec waits.
I'm really sorry about the long wait for this one :/ I never meant for you to wait three weeks, but this ended up being twice as long as I'd set it out to be. Hope you enjoyed it!
In other news, TEOAB has been nominated in the Sunflower Award under "Best Vampire Story" and "Best Banner" (courtesy of General-of Fanficanon)
Voting is available here: http:/thesunflowerawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com/2009/07/voting (dot) html
until February 19th :)