Happy New Year! I've been playing around a lot with this chapter, trying to decide how long I want it, but in the end I think what is covered and where it ends is best. So I'm sorry for the shorter chapter but I hope you enjoy it just the same!
I do not own Twilight.
Forks is green. Deep green. It extends past the trees to swallow you whole.
Nothing would direct you toward this little town except the sign posted along the main highway, and perhaps the allure of good hunting and fishing.
According the Marie's notes, Charlie is an avid hunter and fisherman. The idea of him living here with ample access to two obviously enjoyable pass times, is comforting. A darker part of me chuckles at the idea that we both quite enjoy hunting, and wild life too no less.
Bad Bella. That's not very lady like.
Neither is my snort when the idea crosses my mind.
We all have our bad habits. Although mine extend to occasionally seeking out the mugger whose face was hidden in shadow, or murderer who has gotten off the wilted hook of the justice department.
I would pray for redemption, but I long ago gave up the idea that my baser nature is something to be ashamed of. If it were, God would have struck me down the moment I took my first steps in this life, and yet, here I am. It may not be the most sane or infallible logic, but it is mine, and one that I refuse to apologize for. A monster created me. He robbed me of my life, a human life, and in return, I am now walking stone, with a tantalizing scent to humans and an endless thirst for blood.
I do not take the life of innocents, most times, I drink from animals, taking nothing more than I need to survive. Sure, sometimes I fancy myself jury, judge and in a more fitting flare of dramatics, the reaper, but I've never been able to find the crippling remorse over taking the life of one who has no remorse of their own for their actions.
Being immortal has a tendency to blur those lines that seemed so solid when I was human.
However, that inner musing is beside the point.
The point. That would be parking my car, because I am here.
Forks Washington.
Once the car is parked, and I know it won't be bothered in the parking lot of whatever food chain this is, I leave it.
I won't be gone long.
Instead, I'll be weaving my way through the streets, learning the layout and the people, while I make my way to the neighborhood that Charles Swan resides in.
In any city, this task would be half a day at the leisurely pace. Here, I find myself broaching his home within half an hour.
Hmmm, small towns.
Each home here is smaller, but well loved. Nothing too new, nothing that stands out unless you count the newer model cars that sit in some driveways, and newer being a loose term, as most are about three to five years old. Still, they too seem to have a well worn and loved quality about them. This area is clearly a family neighborhood. There are children's bikes scattered here and there in the yards, some also hold toys, soccer and footballs.
Thankfully, I do not stand out much in my jeans and coat. Those who notice me smile or wave, politely. I've never been sure why, but even in this life, I was blessed with putting the humans around me at ease, I do not seem to trigger that baser instinct to fear me. It's been a helpful tool these long years, and I pull my scarf back over my shoulder again, pleased that it still holds true.
His street comes up, and because I love pushing the envelope, I turn down it. Today was supposed to be only a short trip, but I can't help myself. I am intrigued.
That intrigue dies into suspicion the moment I get closer to his home.
Within my sight is a lovely little white two story home. The police cruiser is gone, but there are two vehicles there. One is an old rusted red truck, fit for something like rolling down a street, not driving, and another truck, newer and deep forest green.
Both trucks and the house reek of dog.
Wet dog. Not the collar me and adopt me type either.
A growl builds in my throat and I find my way into the trees, suddenly tense. I've come across this stench before, but it was fleeting and at the time, I paid no mind. Now, it surrounds me, with its repulsive heavy ropes wrapping around me, burying itself into my clothes and nose. Disgusting.
I have work my way around to the back of the house through the wet moss but luckily, it faces the expansive forest.
My luck ends there as well. I'm no closer to investigating when the back door wrenches open, nearly coming off the hinges, and a young girl with black cropped hair that touches her chin comes out. I can hear her growling from here, feral and angry. She's scanning the woods, her nose tilted up, and she seems to pay no mind to the chilly weather, she wears nothing more than a tank top and jean shorts that look to have once been longer.
"Leah! What is it?" The voice comes from farther inside the house, a woman's.
Neither one of us moves, she stays at the door, shaking as she checks the tree line again, and I stay planted behind a denser patch of forest, a good thirty yards from any tree line. My instincts scream enemy, but I am at a loss as to what kind of enemy she is. Something to look into later obviously.
We stay like this for a good ten minutes and never has time seemed to pass so slowly to me.
Finally, her posture shifts, she relaxes a bit before stepping inside again, shutting the back door behind her. I hear the lock forcefully clip into place from here.
Like that would honestly stop me if I wanted in.
No invitation needed thank you.
Still, she knew, this Leah, she knew I was out here.
Not entirely human, whatever the hell she is.
I turn and without pause, break into a dead run further into the forest. This I was not expecting at all.
Trees whirl by in a mess of browns and greens, no light from the cloudy grey sky above even filters in with this dense brush around me. It is comforting at least, to know that here in this rainy little corner of the country, that sunlight is a rare occurrence. If nothing else, it means more time out during the day.
Not that being out during the day will be helpful with this newest development.
Coming to a stop, I take in a deep breath through my nose.
Hunting is not absolutely necessary at the moment, but the activity has always allowed me the time to work through things while I have something to keep the forefront of my mind busy. Being a vampire has its drawbacks, like the nonstop inner workings of the brain. We don't get those blissfully unaware moments as easily as humans.
Not more than five miles off there is a delightful snack waiting. Deer.
Not the best of wildlife, but perfectly fine for an afternoon sip.
Once I'm close enough, I drop my coat and scarf. I don't need them and honestly, the rare chance of getting blood on them is not appealing. I'm rather fond of the garments, and blood is not the easiest thing in the world to get out, tears and missing buttons are also a pain.
With them folded neatly in a pile at the base of a fine old tree, I continue to stalk the deer.
I have no idea if I'm more light footed than the normal vampire, but I've never had the trouble with hunting animals that most do. Perhaps the lack of predator vibe has something to do with it.
It makes little to no difference in the end as I come upon them, before the last can escape I'm up from my first kill and onto the second. They fall easily and for the most part, are not aware of what's happening until they're already slipping away. That is a plus with deer.
Things like bears and bigger game tend to fight back quite a bit more.
That's when things like tears, missing buttons and blood become a question of when rather than if.
I drag both to a watering hole nearby, it won't be long before another animal comes along to make a meal of the parts I do not. It's a perfectly acceptable disposal method, in the food chain, I've merely taken the effort of chasing them down out of the equation.
I take my time making my way back to my coat, because now that I've fed, I have nothing to distract myself with while I ponder the stench I found, or the girl who knew I was out there. I hadn't even stepped foot onto the lawn before she was there, almost a blurry image at first. What's more is the way she reacted as if this wasn't her first time coming across a vampire's scent. With weather conditions like these, it isn't completely unlikely that some have been through here before. Passing through would be the idea for the most part, as small towns like these are much trickier to hide kills in. No, we as a race tend to prefer bigger cities to drop in for a snack, plenty of people, lots who no one would ever miss, and a sea of faces to disappear into after the deed is done.
Still, she knew something. It was clear by the reaction, the anticipation in her frame while she stood there, as if I were going to attack at any second.
I hate not having all the cards.
Clearly here I do not.
As if the universe were laughing at me, finding my coat waiting for me is simply too easy.
I catch a scent before I break the last of the trees. Vampire.
Guess that answers at least one of my questions.
I know I should stop, keep hidden.
There's something pulling me forward though, him. I catch a glimpse of bronze hair hunched over, investigating my belongings, and I forget I am vampire.
I forget I am in unfamiliar territory.
I forget that I sat, watching that boy dye in a hospital 122 years ago.
I forget everything other than his face.
The one that turns sharply towards me when I barrel throw the last bit of brush and plant myself right in front of him.
Topaz eyes.
Not green. Not the loveliest shade of emerald I'd ever seen.
Pale skin, like marble, like my own.
White, perfectly aligned teeth that promise an intimate death to those he would deem food.
The tugging becomes almost painful, like something inside me is reaching out, dying to touch him.
I can't help myself, he doesn't seem to be in any better of shape, standing perfectly still while he stares wide eyed, watching me close the distance between us.
He's taller than me, painfully taller.
His perfect features are frozen at the exact age he was when I last saw him. I don't need to ask, I know.
The doctor.
Part of me roars inside, raging at such a horrible misdeed.
Another part, purrs at the satisfaction of being so close to him again.
The latter wins out, and I purr slightly while my hands, with a mind of their own, reach up to stroke his face, like I had done once before, so long ago.
Breathlessly, his name falls from my lips.
"Edward."
I love hearing from you guys, and I'm already working on editing and nit picking the next chapter. I hope to post every few days since I've been able to crank out so much of the story line already.
Until then.