§Author's Warning: Disturbing descriptions of violence. Read at your own risk.
§§ Author's Apologies: It has been a very long time since I've updated, and I apologize for this. I seemed to have been forcing myself to write sometimes, and I cannot have that at all. My work would not have been my best. I believe it's been almost half a year since my last chapter, and I definitely apologize for that again. I'm going to finish this series, if it takes 1 month, 2 months, 1 year, or 5 years. It will be done. All 4 books, and then some if I fill I have prompts and extra little spin-offs. With that said, please do head the warning above. It's there for a reason. Those that have waited a long time for this chapter may have to reread the story again. It has been a while.
"You do know that there is a festival going on, right? Volterra is heavily congested with cars and tourists. There's a road block ahead, you're going to have to take that sharp right to bypass that."
The damn annoying woman continued to chatter, ranging all topics. From nail polish to the latest scandal in Singapore. As if I listened to the news at all.
"Another road block, take this next left, and in twenty meters you can take a left. Oh and by the way you're getting close to the center of the festival. It's the St. Marcus Day festival."
A clatter of nails against keyboard and Chloe reads from Wikipedia, most likely.
" March 19th, this day is celebrated for the removal of vampires from Volterra a long, long time ago." She smacks her gum, and I'm screeching to a halt when there is literally a mass of bright, vivid red.
I search the center of the mass, hastily parking the cycle and surveying the courtyard. A huge fountain rests in the center of the mob and there are too many branching alleyways to search through from my spot sitting here.
In a mass of all red, black would definitely be spotted. I disconnect from Chloe with a thank you and am almost overwhelmed by the smells, sounds, and sights of the festival.
The red of the cloaks are almost too blood-like; the sounds of laughter, chatter, and life are almost too loud; the scents of food, life, and happiness almost burned my nose. I choke back a cough and turn away from the sense overload only to almost run into a short gypsy-like individual.
"Oh holy shit! Please ma'am, do not sneak up on me."
The old woman is unapologetic, but she does gesture to me and I reluctantly follow her, my ears opened to the fullest amount that I could handle.
A small shabby stand overflowing with city wares and trinkets is where she leads me to.
It's extremely colorful. There was shivers running up and down my spine as I followed her inside the stand.
She hands me a very long, red cloak; very similar to the ones outside. And she hands me a golden cross.
Without a word, sound or peep. I stare at her, my mouth opening and closing several times before she smiles, her teeth brilliantly straight and white and she pats my back, murmuring in a very ancient sounding language. Something I couldn't decipher. She gestured wildly, looking far too amused at me while I reluctantly shook out the cloak and wrapped it around my form. It was incredibly long, sweeping the back of my ankles with every step. And the old woman placed the necklace around my neck herself, chanting something comforting, and old in that language of hers.
The warmth of the cross slipped beneath the suit and she starts pushing me out of the stand a great smile on her face.
She literally shooed me away when I tried to pay her for the items, and she frowned and turned away, to help her next customer.
I stood, floored by the fountain, in plain sight. Yet hidden by the gorgeous cloth of red that concealed my identity.
I could not be seen by the Volturi. I could not even think to be seen. My breaths in contrast to my thoughts were relaxed and even. Inhale. Exhale.
Could I directly confront Edward Cullen?
No.
They old vampires were surely watching Edward's every move. Waiting in the darkness to pounce him.
The clock struck its half hour and I turned in the direction of Bella Swan's scent. It was almost noon.
•◘○
I supposed that I cut an imposing figure in the crowd. Almost six feet tall, donned in a red that was highly reminiscent of blood. I didn't quite get a large berth, but I did not get anyone brushing against me, or did I get anyone stepping on my toes.
The hood was up, effectively shielding my face and hair. I watched as Bella tripped her way across the fountain and emerging on the other side to sprint at a specific alleyway.
My heart was in my throat.
I can't. I just can't.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even move in that direction.
I couldn't look at him at all.
I barely breathed as I heard Bella scream his name.
With my hearing, I was able to hear the entire conversation.
Including the awed noises of a small child trying to get the attentions of her parents to look at something.
I immediately slid closer to the family, being sure to keep my back to Cullen and asked brightly.
"Hello! I'm Portia. I can't find my dad anywhere. I'm afraid I lost him. But he did say I'm free to join in the festivities and roam around if we did get lost."
The family welcomed me with open arms and questions about where I was staying and all that sort of supercilious facts.
I was swept up into festivities for nearly an hour before the family signed up for a tour of the ancient castle.
I of course was invited to join, and I did.
I had a horrible feeling about this though.
•◘○
My heart was in my throat as we joined a large group of tourists. I wasn't paying attention to any of the historical qualities of the paintings, sculptures, or designs, but I was staring hard at the tour guides and people working at the desks.
Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
We were guided into a throne room, of sorts and my back stiffened as I caught the sound of locks sliding into place.
I breathed out, shakily as I pulled up the hood and desired myself into invisibility.
I carefully distanced myself from the large group of people, chattering excitedly. A few were looking around suspiciously, as their bodies were probably telling them something was wrong as well.
Oh god, no. They're all doomed, aren't they? There's nothing I can even do! If I could even take on an ancient, I couldn't handle more than one.
It was too late for them, I held a hand to my mouth as I backed into a corner, paralyzed by sudden terror. Shit, I couldn't panic. I can't panic, but this was going to be so bad. No... they shouldn't be able to get away with this at all.
I swallowed compulsively, stomach working to keep the food digested where it was.
The windows were suddenly covered and it fell ominously dark around the room.
People were beginning to react to their instincts now. Forever an animal, there are instincts we cannot ignore. There was a pain filled hush. A couple murmurs about the tour: did people really think this was a part of the tour? Old castles have no reasons for being this dramatic.
My eyes had immediately accommodated accordingly, and I was able to see the first kill of the slaughtering that took place in the throne room.
A child. A god damn child. I heard with detail the crack of the vertebrate and the last breath, and the scream that was cut short.
My back slammed into the corner, hands slapping to my mouth as I stared in horror as several vampires descended on the innocent humans.
That very first kill almost made me vomit.
Some vampires played with their food, biting from several major arteries. Letting the humans bleed out a little before draining them dry.
Some vampires were thankfully merciful, if that, and made clean breaks before drinking their fills. There were less sounds of bone breaking.
There was barely enough time to scream. Kids, women, men, everyone. No one was spared as the monsters drained everyone dry. Those who tried to run in the dark were pursued. Like they had a chance at escaping.
The vampires methodically drained the humans. With passion. They were having fun with this. There was nothing sensuous about it, yet at the same time, there was.
They were cold and yet not lifeless as they fed
The entire group of humans, over 100 individuals were killed. Most weren't clean deaths.
I bit my lip hard to stave off the sobs, turning my head to the wall as I heard every single scream and thud, bodies hitting the floor.
I was shaking. Terror, anger, fear, horror, disgust, shock.
It did not escape me how ironic this was, St. Marcus's day: and vampires were slaughtering tourists like cattle.
I was aware that the bodies were quickly being piled up, neatly, in a space. A space very close to me, and I was jerking back against the wall, nearly upending the contents of my stomach and I turned away, body facing the corner, shaking so very hard. No noise was escaping my mouth as both hands were pressed to my lips.
I heard the windows being uncovered. And the bodies incinerated a room away. Several individuals with beating hearts were cleaning the massacre that was the throne room and not even an hour after the bloodshed, the room was quiet, but for the murmurings of the vampires in charge.
" The Cullen boy is on his way here. It seems as if a human has stopped him from revealing our existence." A sickening sweet voice traveled to my ears.
" Oh, she is quite brave! What a shame it would have been to kill all those innocent humans."
A couple of chuckles came from the direction of the thrones.
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