I don't own Twilight
His scream of utter horror was music to her ears. So addicting. She wanted to hear more…
"Bella…please…" his hoarse whisper was the fuel to her raging fire.
She chanced no glance at him. She wouldn't give him the honour of gazing at her face. Not so soon.
She tore off the final limb from the body at her mercy. The body that belonged to a girl… a girl who called herself her best friend, once.
Not anymore. No more.
Flinging the remnants at the fire before her, she watched as it turned into ash. As the one who had a hand in wronging her existed no more.
Giddiness bubbled up to the surface. A rush of satisfaction filled her fetching form. The evidence of her power seemed to crackle about her tiny fists.
Then, then, she turned around, faced her greatest nightmare.
He was still so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. He was still her chief punishment. Her deadliest poison. The cause of her sickness and the balm to her scarred soul. If he was the sickness, how could he be the cure, too?
The pain in his eyes sent thrills of pleasure and pain through her form. She wanted to hold on to the pleasure. She craved the pleasure. Only he could give it to her. Her heartbreaker.
"How could you…?" he seemed to be at a loss for words, if not emotions.
She searched for emotions other than pain. She searched for disgust and contempt. She searched for terror and fear. Like he had so often searched for in hers.
(Who was the monster, now?)
Her search was in vain.
She hated it.
"That was Alice…" his voice broke.
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry.
The wind was sweeping away her ashes. Just as it had swept away the ashes of the rest of his family.
She regretted nothing.
Why wasn't he afraid? Why wasn't he begging for his life? Why?
He clenched his jaw, curled his lips. He looked as dazzling as ever.
His liquid gold eyes held raw agony as he said, "We loved each other."
And she spoke for the first time in a long while. "Did we really?"
He unconsciously shook his head, his bronze locks messier than ever. And she didn't know how anyone could look this perfect.
How many other girls had he broken and left behind? To how many did he offer his promise filled addicting kisses? How many girls did he look at so lovingly? How many did he claim to love?
How many victims did he acquire with his dangerous beauty?
The questions scorching through her veins, she leapt on him with a toe-curling growl.
The ashes this time were not swept away.
Okay! I have NO idea why I wrote it. I just wanted to write SOMETHING, I guess. Besides, I have always wanted to write an Evil Bella. So, please, tell me how it went?