The Monsters Among Men

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Twilight'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Molly Swan was Quileute, and so too was the rest of her bloodline. Some generations later, Bella Swan witnesses the side effects of her native heritage. A more realistic take on my story 'The Ties That Bind'. New Moon AU.

Rating: T for violence, mild adult themes, and character death.

Author: tlyxor1.

The Monsters Among Men

Chapter One

"What do you think? Is the mind a separate entity to the brain, or is it a construct of microscopic entities that we don't yet fully understand?"

Angela's eyes, dark and expectant, peered at her through the thin lenses of her red framed glasses, and if not for all that Bella had learned in the time she'd lived in Forks, her answer might have been certain. As things went though, Bella had observed, and learned, and changed in the last nine months, and the mind/body conflict, and more specifically her answer to the issue, no longer seemed so clear.

In any case, they were in the middle of their Modern European History class, Philosophy wasn't in their senior curriculum, and the question had no place among the battles, dates and locations relevant to the resolution of Europe's involvement in World War II. Therefore, Bella gave a disinterested shrug, propped her chin in her lifted palm, and stared mindlessly out of one of the classroom windows.

In front of the class, their teacher droned on, her reedy tone a monotonous, repetitive sound that the girl could block out with ease. Her attention was instead on the woods she could see outside her classroom window, tall and fathomless, with secrets and dangers beneath their canopy that Bella Swan should never have known. Her curiosity had always governed her, however, and it wasn't long after that when she'd found herself far in over her head, and with no way out.

With a callused thumb, Bella traced the all too familiar bite mark on her opposite wrist, remembered those few moments of undiluted agony, and asked herself where she'd be now, if Edward Cullen wasn't so set in his ways. She imagined she'd be a vampire, and the girl was repulsed by the thought, but as the sound of the bell wrenched Bella from her reverie, she comforted herself with the knowledge that it was not something she'd have to worry about.

Not any more, at any rate.

With a small smile on her face, Bella gathered up her books, walked with Angela out of the classroom, and made her way to the parking lot with her olive-toned friend by her side. Angela was rather nice, quiet and unassuming, with a remarkable mind behind her observant gaze, and very little patience for the crap their friends usually pulled. Bella could talk to her for hours on essentially every subject that came to mind, and it was refreshing to find a fellow academic among their peers.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Angela queried. They'd come to a stop by Bella's beat up chevy, and Bella leant against it's rusted side, heedless of the stains it would likely leave behind.

"The Chief's strong-armed me into being his designated driver," Bella answered glibly.

'The Chief' was a tongue in cheek reference to her father, Charlie Swan, whom despite his humble beginnings as a La Push centre security guard, had worked his way up the policing ranks to become Chief of the Clallem County Police Force. She admired the man for his accomplishment, and hoped that she'd one day be so passionate in her own career, but as his daughter, she felt it her prerogative to keep him humble.

Not that he needed it, really - he did a good enough job of that on his own.

"That sounds almost as riveting as babysitting the twins," Angela answered, tone deadpan, and Bella had to smile.

"What lives we live," she agreed, and clambered into the cab of her truck, "I'll catch you on Monday, Angela. Let me know what you decide about the mind/body problem. It will be interesting to argue with you."

"Sure thing," Angela answered, and Bella reversed out of the parking lot, a careless wave over her shoulder for her friend. Angela was perhaps the only one she had in Forks, but Bella didn't mind. She'd always kept her few friends close, cared for them as they cared for her, and that was all that mattered.

Bella reached her house some minutes later, shuffled inside, and prepared an easy meal for her father's dinner. She'd not had much of an appetite herself, and combined with the sniffle and scratchy throat she'd harboured all day, the eighteen year old was certain she was coming down with something.

It was appalling timing, given that midterms were a week away, but Bella had ploughed through colds before, and this time would be no exception.

With that in mind, Bella prepared herself a cup of herbal tea, and another of chicken soup, and settled in front of the television for a night of relaxation. Her homework could wait, and the rest would hopefully help her shake off the cold before she really got it, and besides, she'd been working her ass off all semester - she deserved a break.

Before long, however, Bella had drifted off to sleep, and it wasn't until her father arrived home that she woke, the sensation of his hand against her brow a comfort, if a strange one. She shivered beneath the throw he'd spread over her, and it seemed her cold had progressed quickly: she felt miserable.

"Not feeling too flash, hey?" Charlie mused, upon seeing her awake. "I'll get you some water."

Bella guzzled it down eagerly, and the glass after that too, and didn't protest when Charlie ushered her up to bed. Instead, she grabbed a wastebasket and a box of tissues on her way up, and was unsurprised when he followed with a bottle of water, some aspirin, and some dry toast.

Charlie tucked her in, settled on the edge of her bed, and carted fingers through her hair as he told the familiar, well loved legends of their people. He'd always done this when she was sick, and as bedtime stories when she was younger too, and Bella had tucked them all away inside her heart, forever memorised, and forever treasured.

And so she drifted off to the familiar cadence of her father's voice, to dwell in dreams of wolves, of heroes and sacrifice, and of monsters too, their eyes stained red, their teeth too, and the promise of impending doom in their every step.

Bella couldn't know that as she slept on, her father stayed by her side, more and more concerned as her temperature climbed, as the sweats began, and the delirium too. She cried in the nonsensical words of their people, and dreamt of the legends she adored. And far from them, a wolf howled.

And things would never be the same.