I had heard of this phenomenon called love before, something so pure and warm. People described it as the best feeling they had ever experienced, and yet also the worst. Love made you strong but it was also the thing that could hurt you the worse. Specially elves, we could die of broken hearts. We had an advantage in the dangerous game though, we bonded for life. This meant that there was virtually no risk of getting your heart broken by some high school sweetheart or getting cheated on. No, the mating for life ensured that. Of course we only bonded with people that called to our soul, I guess the closest thing humans have to this is what they call soulmates. The one. I had never dreamt of finding mine, exhaled from all elven societies before birth. I walked through all the ages without purpose, without anyone to give me warmth, support me or love me. My existence was dull, filled with endless roaming of continents, until I met him. The ultimate soldier, the major that would go down in history for his bravery.
I had just arrived in Texas from Somalia when I first heard the gunshots. I remember rushing towards the sound, pushing my immortal body to the limit. As far as I know there wasn't supposed to be any conflicts in this area but you could never know with war. It wasn't as if they all sat down and discussed politely where to have each battle. No, it was very possible that the war had escalated since I was last there.
I remember seeing the occasional green plant rush past me in my fervent panic to get to the fight, I remember counting each of my breaths and I remember my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to jump right out of my chest. Imagine my surprise when all I found was a male soldier and three women talking to each other by the water. No furious battle cries could be heard, no dooming bullets swishing past your ears and most important of all there was no battle. How anticlimactic. I had been craving an epic battle, to once again feel the adrenaline flowing through me as I cut down my enemies with a grace, precision and skill that only belonged to my race. Not that I had ever met any other elves.
The three women were extremely beautiful, glaringly so. I imagined that even the most angelic faced women would be seething with jealous if they saw the trio. They had to be sisters, the feracious three. But my focus wasn't on them, it was fixed on the soldier standing opposed to them. The one with the perfect blonde curls, perfect stature and sweet southern accent. I couldn't see his face but I know that that too would be perfect, as if sculptured by the gods. I didn't dare approach them yet, I wanted to see what they were doing first. Was my soldier offering his services to the ladies or was there something deeper and more malicious going on? My money was on the latter by the way that all three of them was paying more attention to his throat than they did him. So either he had a breathtaking neck or they wanted something more sinister out of him, his blood.
I overheard one of the sisters call the leader 'Maria', little did I know that that was a name that would come back to haunt me. A name that would haunt my soldier, my major, through the ages. If he could sleep it would be the name that he would wake up screaming in cold sweat after a bad dream.
Maria was talking to my soldier with an assessing look, this look made my senses tingle in all the wrong ways. It was a defiling looks. I had been so shocked at the scene that I hadn't even thought to use my hearing to actually hear what they were saying.
"What's your name, Soldier?" Maria inquired with her chin held high.
"Major Jasper Whitlock, Ma'am" The major responded back courtesly. His body was tense and I could feel the alert and weariness inside of him. Whatever the women had said before had unnerved him.
"I hope you survive. You may be of great use to me" The leader told the soldier before walking towards him. My own body tensed at the scene when she almost affectionately placed her hands on either side of his head. My glare was hopefully burning holes through her head with the intensity they provided. Alas, they did not and I was hopeless to save him from what she did next. She bent his head to the side with practised movements and bit him. I remember my schock, then the burning anger. Oh gods, the anger.
I can't remember what happened afterwards, I passed out from the intense burning feeling that forced itself upon me. It felt like thousands of invisible burning knives stabbed me over and over again at the same time as a burning cold rushed through my every vein. It came from our bond, when one is in pain the other can feel it. Our emotions got linked together, some of my abilities I shared with him.
When I woke up three days later he was gone, my major was gone. The last piece in my pussle had disappeared. Someone had taken him from me. I remember the sadness that crippled me and the despair that filled me. I rushed from the cursed place, grabbing my major's hat that had fallen from his head, and far away from there. In my search for the immortal soldier I found a friendly coven of vampires up north, they called themselves The Cullens.