Prologue

SYLVIA COSETTE DUPONT

My name was Sylvia Cosette Dupont, and I was changed into a vampire in 1450, AD, in Paris, France at the age of 45. I was a midwife, taking care of pregnancy and child labor from the nobility to the middle-class citizens of Paris. I secretly helped prostitutes with their labor and pregnancy, knowing I could easily have my reputation dismantled, but I never found my reputation tarnished.

It was a beautiful, crisp morning, one of those days that it was perfect to have a wool shawl wrapped tightly around you. Fireplaces were lit inside; families were huddled together in their flats and homes by the fireplace with hands held out for warmth. It was early enough in the morning for me to feel free when I wasn't clustered around by all the townsfolk around me. I didn't like to feel as though I was a bird caught in a cage, these times I could have the cage door open, and my wings could come out. They would stretch for a while before the bustle of the city would commence again.

One moment I was turning the corner and the next, I was thrown into one of the alleyways, where a strong scent of urine and human waste was ever present. It wasn't the state of the alleyway, nothing more than another worn down alleyway, that had me scared out of my wits.

It was the inhumanly beautiful man who stood in front of me with crimson eyes and canary hair that was almost to his armpits. His skin was hard, cold to the touch, and quite muscular. He was dressed like a commoner, there wasn't anything expensive he was wearing, and it looked as though he had been wearing the same clothes for months—it smelt rancid. There was blood that was dripping down the side of his pallid skinned jaw. Behind him a body was crumpled up, dead, letting me know that I would not be his first victim of the morning, it seemed like. I might not be the last victim he would have for this morning, for the insatiable glare in his crimson irises seemed to grow darker and darker.

I had fallen onto the cobble, not caring how one of my most expensive skirts, had touched the dirty cobblestones. I was about to have my life taken from me, from a vampire (yes, even then I knew it was a vampire). Others to think of me as nothing more than a prostitute that had been killed by an angry client, and that would be that.

The vampire picked me up easily, before his teeth sunk into my throat and drank me almost completely dry. The sun rising was the only saving grace I had, this vampire hissed at the sun as though it was his mortal enemy, before he rushed off to one of the man holes and jumped into the sewers—closing the manhole behind him in a loud clang. I on the other hand began the transformation from human to vampire, which took three days, three days where I screamed myself hoarse. I had been dumped into the mental institution not far from Paris since I was not dead, but I was one who was experiencing hysteria in their eyes.

I woke, my throat burning, not aware of where I was, wearing a patient gown. I didn't hesitate to throw myself at the people around me, slaughtering them to my heart's content. All I cared about was the blood that was running through their veins. I hadn't even realized what I was doing until I was near the children's section of the mental institution and saw a little girl standing there with a teddy bear in her hands.

There that child was, holding that precious toy, and peering at me as though I was nothing more than another hallucination, she was accustomed to seeing. Me, a beautiful woman, soaked head to toe with blood from patients and doctors not far from this section of the building, was nothing more than what she probably always saw. It struck me as she came closer to me and reached her hand out. The moment her fingers touched my wrist, something snapped, and many of my memories (though still quite blurry) came at me in full force. I was a midwife, I was Sylvia Cosette Dupont, and I was now a vampire.

I ran away from the child, never knowing her name, only remembering her angelic features, blood still caked upon me. I ran as far as I could, before I reached one of the creeks that were near the building. I tore off my gown from me and washed as much of the blood away from me as possible. The pale and barely there sunlight reminded me I wasn't human anymore when I saw the shade of my skin and felt how my skin was of marble hardness. The freezing water had no effect on me.

After stealing clothes from one of the country side cottages, and sneaking into one where the owners weren't home, I brushed out my hair and made sure to make myself presentable. I was focused on the crimson orbs that were staring back at me, my fingers reached up and touched around my eyes, wondering if there was a way for me to surround myself with expecting mothers and infants again. I wanted to keep that innocence in my life, but I was tainted. Was it wrong of me to want to find a way to become a midwife again?

I started to live in French country sides, going after the weakiest link of family cattle, knowing I should feed from animals instead of people. I would always think of that precious little girl in that mental institution and remind myself what I was aiming towards. I was going to go back to doing my one true calling, even as a vampire, or I would die trying (whether I could die). I would make sure to protect these babies and expecting mothers, especially as a vampire now—since there could be other vampires who could target just expect mothers or babies.

It took me fifty years to cement my faith in my blood source without attacking humans, and it took another fifty years for me to become a midwife again. The moment I held that license in my hands again, I was as close to crying as a vampire could. I kept letting my fingers brush against the license, as though reminding myself I would be able to do what I had set out to do in my human life.

Nothing prepared me for September 20th, 1987.

I was traveling aimlessly, trying to see if there were towns who would accept me as a midwife, when I could sense a vampire and humans not that far from me. I stopped from getting into my car, an average car, when I sensed this. Surveying everything around me, I was pleased how everyone was asleep. It was enough for me to rush in the direction of where the vampire and humans were.

One of the humans was on the ground, slumped over, obviously dead when I reached them.

He was wearing an Police Academy sweater, revealing he was training to become a police officer, dark jeans, and worn-out boots. The woman next to him was the same age as him, her brown hair down to her shoulders, wearing one of her nightgowns. She had scraps and deep, deep cuts on her skin, letting some of the blood out along with mud spread across her skin from wrestling with the vampire. She was suffering from blood loss; the vampire was obviously enjoying cornering her up against one of the trees. It disgusted me, especially when I noticed the woman was clutching a newborn in her arms.

The vampire in front of me was dressed in an expensive polo shirt with popped collars, khaki slacks, and Hush Puppies Oxford shoes. He was quite young, about the same age as the man and woman. He reminded me of one of the characters in Animal House, just another obnoxious Frat boy. I shook my head at the blond boy, who turned around when the woman screamed at the sight of me.

I was dressed in a fake white fur coat that fell to the back of my Mid-Thys, a turtleneck yet slim obsidian sweaterdress, and basic black pumps. My deep reddish-brown curls fell around my hair in a mane of coiled. I knew I was a sight to see, but hopefully my golden irises would let them know I wasn't going to suck their blood. Or it would be off putting, yeah it was off putting. Best to keep it simple and truthful.

The vampire straightened up and turned around, his eyes taking in my sight. "Sorry, Grandma, these ones are mine! Do you know how rare it is to drink a newborn—" Before he could finish what he had said, I struck him across the face, my bejeweled and nicely red painted manicured fingers creating enough of a pressure against his face to crack them in thin lines.

"I suggest you run, now," I merely told him, my velvet, French accent making him confused for a moment. I knew if we weren't in the middle of a small town named after a utensil in the States, then he wouldn't be so confused. Yet here I was, a French vampire, might I add, commanding this American Frat boy vampire to leave the family alone.

"I don't think so—"

Without hesitation I ripped his head off, earning another scream from the poor woman on the floor. Her color was leaving her, her breathing was slower, becoming labored. She was dying slowly, the blood loss too great for her to overcome. I threw his head down and began the process of ripping his arms and legs away from his torso. Once I was satisfied (they resembled marble, crystal agates limbs), I pulled out a lighter and lit the pieces on fire so the vampire could have no way to come back to life. I put the lighter back into the pocket of my coat before I crouched down in front of the woman.

"I know you're confused right now. Your husband is dead, an entitled Frat boy vampire just tried to kill you and your newborn too. I'm sorry enough to tell you though—"

"Yes, I know. Please, protect her though. I can tell you're not like the other vampire. Her name is Isabella Marie Swan. Please, all I ask is make sure she'll be okay," the woman whispered, before she slowly opened her arms, letting them drop like dead weighs on either side of her.

I looked down at the baby, a small little precious baby girl, who started crying, not knowing what to do with the whole situation that just unfolded. I brought my head up, to tell her I would, only for me to see the woman was dead. I ducked my head down again and reached my hands out, letting Isabella touch them for a moment, before she calmed down.

Pulling the baby out of her now deceased mother's arms, I wrapped my arms around her and shielded her from the harsh winds in the woods. The husband and wife were next to each other, and behind me the vampire was burning into ash, leaving a lavender scent around us. It was the only way I could kill him; I still didn't know why the fire would send off the scent of lavender.

As the sun began to rise and the law enforcement started coming down the road that was up against the east side of the forest, I walked just a little faster than a normal human. I knew they would come across the sight of the husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Swan, but they would not find the little newborn Isabella. Instead, when they would arrive at the scene, I would begin my journey on becoming a vampire mother to a newborn human.

Perhaps this was why fate had decided I would be a vampire, not to be the first vampire midwife, but to become the future surrogate mother of Isabella Marie Swan.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: first of all, Twilight doesn't belong to me. Only characters I come up with are mine. :)

secondly: I have been in the mood to read stories where Bella is adopted by vampires.

This story will be kind of like the cannon storyline but becomes different after New Moon. There is no romantic relationship between Bella and Edward.

-Emmy

edited: 12/13/2021