Renesmee was special due a lot of reasons.
And one of them was the improvement her existence brought to Jasper's alter's behavior. For some odd reason he seemed fixated on her. He would do things none of them could have ever seen him doing. Things not even Jasper would be caught dead doing.
Like letting Renesmee put makeup on him. She would paint his fingernails and put glitter on his hair. It would stick to his clothes and his skin and he wouldn't bat an eye at it. He would take her hunting and eat whatever she offered him whether it was human food or even a squirrel.
He would carry her around on his shoulders and roll around on the floor if that meant getting her to giggle, he would make the weirdest sounds and go as far as dancing with her to those God awful kid cartoons. Renesmee even taught him how to play the piano.
She had him wrapped around her finger. He would do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. And the most hilarious thing here was that she looked so small and harmless beside him while he would be looking like he could rip someone's face off and eat it if they were to just breath the wrong way in their direction.
It was an amusing contrast.
And he had grown less prompt to insult and growl. That unless Jacob was involved. He developed an amazing disdain towards him but seemed to have also acquired a liking to Leah of all the wolves possible. No one was quite sure of the why but Emmett was pretty sure it had to do with the fact that Leah had been willing to intervene when Alice was being attacked that time during their fight against the shifters.
Oh. And there was also his name. Jor . Renesmee had been the one to get out of him the name no one had ever managed to find out about.
But as subdued as he had grown he still was unpredictable. Uncontrollable. Alert.
And then he snapped.
~~~~~~~~~
Jasper was prompt to episodes of depression. Yes.
The same as The Major had days where he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
And today was one of those days.
He sat on the stairs on the backyard hissing and snarling and growling at whoever got too close. The blazing needles of anger dragging across their skin. Sometimes he would sit in a corner and act like he was doing now. Other times he would disappear for hours and return with torn clothes. He would seek fights if spoken to. Would scratch and bite if spoken to.
So it was best to leave him alone.
Not even Alice could go near him when he got like that. He was tense and shaking with repressed aggression. Approaching him would do nothing but set him off.
But something about this time was different. He was prompt to scratch a lot. Yes. But he had never scratched at his ankles as much as he had been doing for the past hour as Carlisle had come to notice. He had been watching him for a while now. This behavior was something he liked to keep tabs on for a lot of reasons, one of them being for the sake of everyone's safety, Jor's included.
He felt a particular rise of anger in the air but this time it was streaked with something familiar that took him a moment to process.
Pain .
And against his better judgement Carlisle found himself approaching him. He whirled around and growled at him. Blazing anger oozing out of him but now that Carlisle paid it mind there was something in it...
Oh .
He knew what this anger was. It was the kind of anger that was born out of pain. He was in pain and his response to it was growing aggressive towards everyone and anyone, it fed his anger to an abnormal level, a creature that was in pain could grow scared and therefore lash out even at people trying to help, both due the fear and the pain.
But this level of irrational anger wasn't normal.
It was almost as if it came natural to him to associate pain with anger. To let the pain feed his anger.
And something told Carlisle Maria was to blame for that.
If he had let the pain feed his anger as a coping mechanism it would explain how come he had become such an explosive being. Anger was natural to him. His main emotion.
Jor followed him with a piercing glare. Followed each one of his movements as Carlisle walked past him and descended the stairs. He glanced at his ankles. So much scratching was leaving dark marks behind. Vampires couldn't get bruises since that would need for them to have blood but if their skin got a hard enough hit or too much abnormal pressure it could provoke something similar to bruises but not quite.
And these took longer to heal for some odd reason. Carlisle believed this was because it wasn't an open wound and so their venom didn't tag it as a wound and therefore didn't aid on its healing. It would disappear on its own accord.
-Does it hurt?- He asks wanting him to understand that he meant no harm. One thing Jor never reacted well to was when people tried to comfort him or appease him through their emotions. It would just agitate him more.
Growling was his answer.
-Can I see?- He tried to keep his tone calm and gentle. Same tone he used with skittish patients. He meant him no harm. He could trust him. All he wanted was to help make the pain disappear.
That at least seemed to make his shoulders relax the tiniest bit and he stopped growling. Carlisle took that as his green light and as he knelt before him he made sure to keep his movements open and careful. Let him see his hands at all moments.
He reached out and pulled at the hem of his pants to get a better look of his ankle. The skin felt tender under his touch rather than stiff as he remembered. And while it was an old scar and the pain could be linked to how much damage Maria hadn't cared to ensue it could also be linked to the fact that parts of the scar looked less old.
Almost a week old.
Jasper hadn't seemed to know the cause behind these scars when he had asked him which meant Jor was the one who held the knowledge of the actual reason behind these scars.
That didn't explain how some patches looked recent .
-What did you do?- Carlisle asked. His answer was Jor avoiding his gaze and tightening his jaw. He looked even more angry.- I asked you a question and I expect an answer.- He warned.
-Ah wanted ta kill the black dog.- He conceded with a scowl. Glaring at the trees.
-Sam?- Carlisle couldn't help but frown as he questioned.
-Yes.
-Did he do or said something?- He hadn't seen Sam since that fight two months ago.
-He brought his dogs here. One of his stupid puppies could've killed the angel. Ah should've killed 'em all when ah had the chance.
Carlisle frowned. That was two months ago. Was he still stewing on it?
-You do realize you can't attack them right? I know that what happened was upsetting but killing them is not the answer. Much less now that they don't pose a threat for us.
The Major scoffed at that. Not a threat his foot! Aside from Leah, Seth and Jacob the rest of the dogs should go and die. All of them were threats . Dangerous. Not worth trusting. He hated them.
But he couldn't kill them.
-You didn't answer my question, what did you do?
-Ah did what I'd ta.
Before Carlisle could speak a smell caught his attention.
One familiar smell that sent shivers down his spine and made his hairs stand on end.
Acid .
Its footsteps wild and fast. Loud.
Black blood.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Alice first caught the scent panic almost slammed into her.
But then she realized the scent wasn't coming from the back of the house but from the front. It was heavier and thicker. Merged with such nauseating edge. Like a rotting corpse. Cold. Acid. Bitter. It made her throat close in disgust. She knew that smell.
That was the smell of a black blood who hadn't showered in weeks. One whose blood was predominant over the venom.
It made her hairs stand on end and a sense of dread take hold of her.
-What the hell is that smell?- Rosalie voiced scrunching her nose up in disgust and as grossed out as she looked she was already getting up and standing closer to Bella who had been quick to pick Renesmee up.
Footsteps were heard. Wild and loud. Panting.
-Black blood.- Alice blurted out.
And then there she stood. Right at the doorframe. Her long golden brown hair covering half of her face and her eyes completely black, even her sclera, fangs adorning her grin and claws her fingers. Her skin and clothes stained in dried blood and mud.
She reeked of death and such intense acid a few gagged. Renesmee whimpering.
But none of them got to see her for too long for a blurred flash slammed into her with thunderous force.
Jor .
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Major had never smelt another black blood before but his instincts reeled with such force under the smell that he moved before he could process it. Slamming into the woman without mercy and sending her flying across the drive, her body crashing into a tree.
She was quick to get up and run up to him. Taking a swing at him with her claws that he dodged with ease. Grabbing her arm instead and spinning her around with enough force to dislodge her shoulder. She snarled at him and lunged for a bite.
Her fangs ripped part of his shirt but didn't reach his skin. His gift rippled out as she managed to grab him. His inability to break out of her hold leaving a sore reminder that he was no longer as physically powerful as he once was.
But his gift would forever be his secret weapon.
And he brought her down with it. She released him as she dropped on the ground with a gasp. He pierced her emotional signature with such deep depression a pathetic sound crawled out of her. He filled her with doom and weakness. Desperation. Loneliness. Defeat. Fear. The kind of emotions he would use to poison the ideals of those armies from the South and make them kneel before him. The ones he used to leave the newborns agonizing for a bit so as to remind them who was the boss and why.
He was above them all and respecting him would be on their best interest.
A whimper left the woman and he smirked cruelly. Crouching down and grabbing a fistful of her hair. Forcing her to look up at him. Tears streamed down her face and she tried to cower under his gaze.
-Please-
The back of his hand connected with her jaw with such force he saw skin crack. Black trails of blood seeping through them and streaming down her face. Dripping on the ground.
-Ya open that mouth again an' I'll rip yer jaw off.- It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.
His blood was boiling and he wanted nothing more but to tear her throat out. With his teeth. Because how dare she attempt to use her compulsion on him? He wouldn't let a bitch control him. Not again. Never again.
She had to die. Die. Die die. He wouldn't let a weak bitch control him. Wouldn't let her think she could come close to this coven to sink her pathetic fangs on one of them. No one could touch him and much less them. He wouldn't let her touch them. He refused to let some weak bitch harm them.
-Jor.- The coven leader's voice caught his attention and slamming the woman's face on the ground he glanced at him over his shoulder. No one but him was standing on the porch but he could feel the anxiety coming from the house like giant waves during a thunderstorm.
A sudden thought occurred to him as he watched the leader descending the stairs. Maybe he was like Miss during her particular good days. He grabbed the bitch by her throat and hair and dragged her up to the coven leader, throwing her infront of him and keeping his gift suffocating her, she was whimpering now, and begging under her breath.
-That's enough. She's not a threat.
The coven leader's words took a moment to register and then.
-Pardon me? Not. A threat?- He asked. His voice sharp as steel and his shoulders squaring up. Not a threat? Was this man insane? Stupid? An idiot? This woman had come with all the intent of killing his entire coven. What did he expect to do if not kill her? Let her go?
-She's down. Stop that.
His fingers curled into fists and a growl rumbled at the back of his throat. Stop that? Stop. That? Stop?
He was not going to stop until she was dead. He refused to let her go. She was a threat. As weak and pathetic as she was acting now she wouldn't hesitate to attack once she was free from his gift.
-No. She ain't going nowhere an' ah ain't stoppin' nothin'.
-Jor-
-Dun't ya bring up yer pacifist bullshit with meh right now Carlisle Cullen.- The Major snapped feeling rage flare deep within.
The audacity of this man!
-She ain't no worthless nomad but a black blood. Ah let her go an' it will be a matter of time before she tears yer entire family ta pieces. Ya got a newborn an' a halfbreed in yer house right now. That's two peculiar things already, have ya seen her eyes? Pitch black. She's ain't going nowhere, she'll wait for ya an' once ya step out of that house she'll kill y'all one by one an' not even Emmett or Bella will be able ta stop her.
Each word he spoke it using the same tone he used to intimidate the most stupid and rebellious newborns who thought themselves capable of stepping over him. He didn't care if it came off as him challenging the coven leader. He couldn't let this woman go.
He wouldn't let her go.
And he didn't care what he had to do to ensure her death.
In fact.
To hell with the coven leader's opinion. He could accept that the man was strong and not as weak as he had expected but he still had those morals that made him as weak as they sometimes made Jasper.
And thus he did something he knew he would regret.
But why regret it when it was clear he would never belong here? He would miss the little star and the angel though.
The sense of peace.
But it was for their safety.
And thus he slammed a wave of unforgivable drowsiness upon the coven leader and the second the man stumbled back the second he lunged for the black blood. Grabbing her hair and yanking on it with such force her neck snapped under it. A pained shout left her along with intensified waves of pain. He cracked her spine beneath his foot as this one stomped on her lower back. Yanking harder from her hair he applied pressure to her spine until he heard the bone snap.
The loud crunch along with the pained shout making him smirk.
And then he bent down and ripped her throat out.
With his teeth.
Pulling back and standing up. He met the angel's mortified gaze as she came to stand at the doorframe but he ignored her. Grabbing the woman's legs and disappearing into the forest with her.
Sometimes horrible decisions had to be taken to protect loved ones.
And the Cullens had certainly become that, no matter how much he refused to admit it, to acknowledge it.
That's why he burnt the scars on his ankles with silver.
He was growing soft. Domestic. And if he allowed that he would become weak.
And weakness meant death.
Pain reminded him who he was. Who he was meant to be.
This wonderful life wasn't his. Esme wasn't his mother. Emmett and Edward weren't his brothers. Rosalie and Bella weren't his sisters. Renesmee wasn't his little star.
And Alice wasn't his angel.
It was Jasper's.
All of this. Jasper's .
His job was to protect. Protect Jasper's happiness and peace no matter the cost.
Because at the end of the day.
The Major was Jasper and Jasper was The Major .
One.
The South's terror.