Rosalie
A/N: This is a bit graphically violent in parts, so don't read it if you're easily distressed.
Rosalie POV
I watched myself in the reflection off the window from where I sat. Vera had not yet closed her drapes, and I could watch my own stunning face in privacy.
I was so beautiful, I decided, and the notion pleased me no end.
"Henry, stop that!" Vera scolded her naughty son. He was sitting bolt upright, his latest achievement, and tugging on the tablecloth that lay over a small table with an ornate vase filled with yellow chrysanthemums on top. It wobbled precariously with every tug.
The adorable boy clapped his pudgy little hand to his mouth and giggled angelically. I stretched out one hand to ruffle his jet black curls affectionately. I loved little Henry.
All I longed for was a pretty baby of my own, someone just as loveable as this little rascal. Finally, it seemed like I was going to get my wish. In one week's time I would be wed to the wealthy Royce King, free to start my own family.
Vera came charging in from the small kitchen to snatch Henry up and plonk him down a few feet away from the tablecloth, so it was out of his grasp.
"Don't you encourage him!" she warned me, smiling. I laughed.
"I'm sorry, how could I resist?" I glanced down at Henry with gloating affection.
"You're right," Vera agreed, beaming proudly. "He's irresistible."
She could not have said a truer word.
"Anyway," I sighed, and stood up. "I had better be going."
"Oh, couldn't you stay a while?" Vera asked, wide-eyed and pleading. I smiled.
"I'm sorry, V. I have to go home, my father's expecting me." I pouted theatrically, and Henry giggled at my funny face.
"Okay." She hurried to embrace me. "I'll see you soon."
"You'll no doubt see me tomorrow," I informed her.
"Oh, not again!" Teddy, Vera's husband, strolled through from the hallway with a wide grin on his face. He kept one hand on the door, holding it open for us both. I planted a kiss on Henry's forehead and left the room. Vera scooped up Henry and followed me through the opened door.
"Goodbye, Rose." She beamed, as did Henry, showing his dimples. Teddy joined us by the door, putting an arm around Vera's waist and hugging her close and whispering something to her.
I glanced down at Henry's gummy smile, not wanting to intrude on their moment. Henry gurgled at me, and I cooed back.
"Bye-bye, little one." I ruffled his curls one last time and straightened up, catching Ted kiss Vera on the cheek. She blushed girlishly, and I felt a twinge of jealousy. Royce was seldom so affectionate.
I pushed the thoughts from my mind and let myself out of Vera's house.
The night air was cold, extremely so for April, and I shivered as I began the short walk home. The street lamps were on, and I hadn't realised how dark it truly was. I wandered, dreaming of the wedding that would take place in a few short days. Would it rain? I eyed the sky apprehensively. It was too cold, and April was known for showers... I didn't want that to spoil my day. It would ruin the wedding if we had to move it indoors...
I stopped dead as I turned into a road a mere block away from my house. There, under a broken streetlamp, stood five drunkards, talking and jeering loudly.
It was impossible to avoid them, I just had to hurry past and hope they didn't take any notice of me. I thought futilely about declining my father's offer of an escort home. The way was so short... it had seemed ludicrous.
I kept my head down and walked by the men, unnoticed until one called my name.
"Rose!" he shouted, slurring, and his shout was met by a chorus of laughs.
The men knew me? They were remarkably well-dressed for drunks, I thought, and then I realised who had called my name...
But I had never seen him drink before. I recognised the light blond hair though. I knew those blue eyes.
Royce.
"Here's my Rose!" Royce shouted, laughing, joining in with his imbecilic friends. "You're late, we're cold. You've kept us waiting so long..."
I felt wary, untrusting. How much had he had to drink?
"What did I tell you, John?" he continued, speaking directly to a man whose face I did not recognise. "Isn't she lovelier than all of your Georgia peaches?"
The man named John appraised me silently, as if I were a material acquisition of Royce's, an antique that he was sizing up.
"It's hard to tell," he drawled in a strong, southern accent. "She's all covered up."
They all jeered again.
Before I knew what was happening, I felt my jacket being torn away from my body. The cold air rose goose bumps on my skin, and I heard my brass buttons roll in every direction.
I was more terrified than I had ever been in my life.
"Show him what you look like, Rose!" He leered at me and reached over, yanking my hat from my head. I cried out as he tore my hair from my scalp by the roots.
His friends laughed again, relishing my pain.
"What're you doing?" I yelled loudly. I was beyond panic.
"Keep your voice down, babe." One of his friends spoke up in a voice as greasy as an oil slick.
"Don't dare call me that!" I lashed out, disgusted.
Royce's hand flew through the air and struck me hard on the cheek. I fell to the ground, my face on fire.
"Hold your tongue, Rosalie. Be nice to my friends. That's what a good wife does." He kicked me roughly in the gut and I screamed.
"I don't ever want to be your wife anymore!"
"You've said yes now, baby. Don't be like that." His tone turned my stomach, and I blanched at the idea of ever walking down the aisle with this monster.
"I'd sooner die!" I spat with all the venom I could muster.
"Would you?" he replied silkily. "Fancy that."
He wound his hands in my hair and pulled me upward, so that I was at his crouched level, or faces less than an inch apart. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Give me a kiss," he murmured.
His lips pressed down on mine painfully, his tongue pushing into my mouth. He tasted vile. I tried to push him away, but he held me tighter. I settled for bringing my teeth down on his tongue, biting as hard as I could.
"Argh!" he cried, pulling back. "You stupid bitch!" He slapped me again. And again. I felt my nose snap and whimpered in pain.
"You love me, Rose," he murmured, pushing my back to the cold ground.
---
I lay there, bleeding, broken, agonised. The vile creatures moved around me, getting up, walking away.
"I suppose you'll have to find yourself another bride now, Royce," the monster named John teased. I was repulsed that he could speak so casually about what he had done. What they all had done...
"I may have to learn some patience beforehand," he responded, and they all laughed again. I meant nothing, a broken, used and disregarded toy. I was absolutely nothing to them.
They thought I was dead. They thought it was funny.
I lay seething, bitterly, murderously angry as I heard their footsteps fade away. I felt something cold fall onto my face. Rain? No, snow. The cold was horrible, almost as bad as the pain. All I could do was lie and wait.
Wait for death.
---
Carlisle POV
I was on my way home from the hospital, working the late shift. It was cold, unseasonably so, snow falling in large flakes around me and I quickened my pace in human pretence. No human would walk slowly in this chill. My thoughts were wrapped around Esme; sure she would have redecorated again by the time I got home. My heart swelled at the thought of seeing her again. Even a few short hours was far too long for us to be apart.
I felt dreadfully sorry for Edward, I'm sure our thoughts were nauseating for him. He had to spend all day listening to me, which was bad enough, with nothing but Esme on my mind, but he had told me privately that she was just as bad. I wished upon wishing that Edward would soon have a love of his own to distract him from ours.
And that's when I smelled it.
Fresh, human blood.
I was shocked; it wasn't an everyday occurrence to smell blood on the streets. And certainly not to smell that much. I veered off course, following my nose.
As I turned the corner, the most awful sight met my eyes. A beautiful, young girl, lying mangled in the street. Dying. The snow around her was saturated with her blood.
She had been attacked.
I moved with superhuman speed to her side, desperate to help in any way I could. I leant over her, recognising her face.
Rosalie Hale.
I could still hear her heart beating, the rhythmic pounding driving me to pick the girl up. If her heart was so strong, she could still be saved.
She could be turned. Maybe then Edward...
I took off, running faster than the wind.
Rosalie POV
I was flying. That was the only explanation. I was flying off to heaven.
But I was still in pain. It had dulled, which I was grateful for, but it was still there.
And then something was cutting me, and I felt fire beginning to gnaw at my insides. The most painful thing I could imagine. I screamed.
Had I been taken away to be hurt further?
But the burning pain did not change. It just kept spreading through my body at an alarming rate, and I ceased to care where I was. I ceased to be anywhere. I just screamed and begged for mercy.
An urgent voice was explaining something in my ear, apologising, saying I was becoming something. I thought I heard the word vampire, but I was delirious.
The burning raged.
When I came to some sort of coherency, managing to separate the burn from my thoughts, though feeling its potency just as strongly, I realised I was not alone. I could hear three different breathing sounds. That was odd. I didn't think you could tell the difference between people's breathing patterns.
One person held my hand, firmly and securely, whispering steady streams of apologies. With a shock, I recognised the voice. Dr. Cullen. He was the person who had flown with me? So... that must mean the other two in the room were his wife and brother-in-law, Esme and Edward, I assumed.
I listened hard to their conversation when I heard my name mentioned by the woman, Esme.
"...for poor, poor Rosalie," she said. A male groan of exasperation.
"What were you thinking, Carlisle?" Edward growled. "Rosalie Hale?"
He sneered my name, and I felt a spark of irritation. He had no reason to react to me in such a way.
"I couldn't just let her die," Carlisle answered softly. "It was too much – too horrible, too much waste."
"I know," Edward dismissed. Annoyance flared again. How could he possibly know?
"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," Carlisle repeated.
"Of course you couldn't," Esme soothed. From the sound of her voice, I could tell she was standing closer to Carlisle than Edward was. She sounded kind. Decent.
"People die all the time," Edward countered coldly. "Don't you think she's just a little recognisable though? The Kings' will have to put up a huge search – not that anyone suspects the fiend." He let a real growl rip through his chest then, and though it frightened me, it pleased me also. They knew what Royce had done to me.
I felt the pain ease from my fingers, and flexed them.
"What are we going to do with her?" Edward asked, revolted.
A sigh from Carlisle. I was surprised I recognised his exhalation. "That's up to her. She may want to go her own way."
I knew that Carlisle had told me what was happening, what I was becoming, and it frightened me. I didn't want to be both afraid and alone.
The heat in my heart seared suddenly, and I screeched. My heartbeats sped, racing, galloping off towards their last.
With one last thump, my heart was silenced forever.
My eyelids opened, and I looked out through new eyes.
The world was sharper. Crystal clear. Perfectly colored. I gazed above in wonderment, before I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Without knowing how I got there, I was suddenly on the other side of the room, my back against the wall, my body sunk into a crouch. A low snarl was building in the back of my throat.
I saw Carlisle, his hand outstretched, and straightened immediately. There stood the three people I had always envied for their beauty, greater even than my own.
Esme, her lovely face gentle, Carlisle, who looked concerned, and Edward, who was scowling, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
"What happened?" I queried, and I was astounded by the sound of my own voice. Such a sweet, seductive harmony. I felt like I could hear it all day. Edward's frown deepened.
"You've changed, Rosalie," Esme explained carefully. "You're a... vampire."
Though I had been told this before, it still shocked me profoundly.
"What changes? Other than my voice?" I enquired with some trepidation.
"Your face has changed. All of you, actually. You're stronger, faster, and virtually indestructible. Your senses are heightened. You cannot cry; you have venom, but no tears. You thirst for blood." Carlisle explained all this clinically. I knew of the thirst already from the flash burn in my throat.
"And..." Esme smiled a beatific smile at me. "You are even more beautiful than before."
My ears perked up a bit at that. More beautiful? Was that even possible?
I saw Edward press his fist to his mouth to try and refrain from laughing at something. Not knowing what, I assumed it was something to do with me and scowled at him. He was an irritating toad, I could see that already. His laughter grew more pronounced.
"Can I see myself?" I whispered to Esme, the only one I truly felt any warmth to right now. She beamed and nodded, flying out of the room at a speed that stunned me. Obviously not human.
She was back in a second, a small, handheld mirror in her bone-white grip. She handed it to me without hesitation. I felt suddenly excited, and I caught Edward rolling his eyes in my peripheral vision. Sparing a moment to give him a disparaging look, I gazed into my own reflection.
I gasped.
I was more than beautiful. I was extraordinary. Far lovelier than Edward or Carlisle or even perfect Esme. I was beyond perfection.
My blonde hair was shiny, silkier than before, waving to my waist. Each one of my features was more defined, paler and totally unblemished. The only thing wrong was the pair of bright, blood-red eyes.
"Why are my eyes like this?" I wondered, alarmed.
"It will pass soon, Rosalie," Carlisle assured me. Good, I thought. I wanted nothing to mar my radiance.
Edward snorted with laughter, and Esme glared at him.
"Behave," she warned; a reproach.
I gazed down into the mirror again, staring lovingly at the reflection of a vampire.