I do not own any of the characters or basic story material, all rights belong to Stephanie Meyer.

This chapter has its origins in my need to take a break from "Ashes". I cannot guarantee there will be any more regular updates with this fic, but I won't neglect it….it's far too much fun to write. Besides, in this story I don't have to worry about readers who have historical sticks up their bums. "Ashes" is still my primary baby, but I think this story will gets its due quite soon. So read, enjoy, and review if you wish.

Genesis Ch. 4: Fissures

The monster's prey had left its lair quickly. A sparrow fleeing from the snake. The knowledge of his prey's fear sent waves of pleasure through the monster's cold mind. There was much work ahead, much pleasurable work. The monster quickened his pace along the country road, eager to reach his destination.

As no lone wolf can slaughter an entire herd of deer, Amun could not hope to bring about his enemy's doom alone. Oh yes, he could take down the older ones just fine. But the newborns, those crazed, illogical offspring….they could be troublesome in great quantities. The monster was a cautious sort, he knew his species was all but dead. If he was to bring about a new age, he'd best be careful with himself. That meant calling upon the few fellows he knew still slept in their silent cages. Where the silence was still master and keeper. Where sound was kept away. Amun would shatter that, just another of many killings. The wide country road beckoned with its soft dirt and fragrant breeze, it sang to Amun, sang of victory and triumph. And his ears were all but keen to the siren's temptation.

…...

Tense, that was the best word to describe the atmosphere at the Cullen's homestead. As Alice had so predicted, Marcus had swiftly arrived. Alone. And very, very frightened.

"Have you had the chance to feed?" Carlisle inquired gently. The real question was in fact if Marcus had killed within Forks. However, Marcus's midnight eyes told the patriarch otherwise. But he seemed not to mind the thirst, or at least, was too traumatized to care.

"That is of no concern. No concern now, or until he is killed or driven towards sleep once again…" Marcus kept his eyes on the window, as though expecting a Demon to leap right through and drag him to hell. Perhaps there was…But the Cullens were yet ignorant of that particular threat.

Alice and Esme kept their distance, but their eyes displayed a raging curiosity. Jasper seemed to strain as he instilled a sense of calm into Marcus. But when Carlisle glanced toward him, Jasper could only frown. Rosalie sat deathly still beside Emmett, and Edward, well, Edward seemed confused. Marcus's mind was giving no secrets up.

"Why did you come alone, Marcus? What has befallen the brotherhood?" Carlisle tried once more to get answers. And this time succeeded.

"Dead. All of them. Killed in but an instant. I never thought….never…." Marcus groaned and leaned forward. His fragile skin crumbling at the effort. Around the room, shock and awe registered. The air was still, and pregnant with questions.

Edward was the first to recover, his eyes narrowed in conflict. What Marcus had to say was difficult to digest, or even believe. "Newborns?" Alice queried. Her shock black hair sparked in the dim light of the room.

Marcus took a cleansing breath and looked toward the family. Once he had thought of them as vermin, a threat. But now, now they were his only hope. No other coven was larger, and the nomads would be useless to fight this enemy. "Carlisle, before I begin to try to explain what transpired in Volterra, I must ask you, what do you know of our species' origins?"

The question caught the family off guard. But as always, Carlisle was the first to clear his head. "To the best of our knowledge, the vampiric disease was a spin off of a virus inserted into the human genome. Most likely evolved from rabies." His voice was textbook in quality, mere vomit-forth knowledge.

Marcus threw his head back and laughed in sheer violence. It was a frightening sight and the coven almost prepared to attack. But the disturbing laughter stopped immediately. Edward glared furiously at Marcus, unable to get a clear look into his head. "I see my brothers have done well in propagating their lies. Lies, lies, lies….all the world's a lie…" His voice drifted off towards a soft keen. The Cullen family kept their tense poses, this type of behavior was…disturbing.

"It isn't a lie in the least, I've personally studied our genome. The virus exists, I've seen it." Carlisle was still his ever-calm self, but a note doubt colored his voice. Marcus looked towards him with a slightly deranged smile. His ancient skin seemed to shift and strain, like granite sifting off a weathered mountain.

" What've you've studied all those years is no more than an opportunistic invader. We at Volterra invested a large quantity of our time in probing that virus, it's no more than a dead end. Rabies, it's almost pathetic. No, no, the origin of our plight is far more complicated than a rogue prion. But it was so very long ago…" Marcus stood swiftly and pressed his glassy hand to the equally smooth window. It is quite possible to mistake the two. Edward rose to stand alongside Jasper, his face still straining to comprehend Marcus's train of thought.

The cry of a dying deer reached into the room on ghostly hands. Predator and prey. Life and death. It made Marcus snap to, made him remember why he was here. "Please, Carlisle, let me now speak without interruption. It is vital you and your family now know what awaits…lest we all be killed…" Marcus whipped around to Edward, staring him down with all his years behind him. And for once, Edward relented to the posed authority. There are some types of wisdom you don't dispute. And some minds that simply cannot be read with equal understanding. Black eyes met and dominated the weaker, more human, amber set. Met, and consumed.

"They were ancient before even my creator was birthed. So old that no name has survived to label their kind. I doubt even a hint of their language still exits…let alone their culture…We, those who carry the vampiric venom, are descended from them. No virus, no parallel genome, just evolution. Humans are more closely related to them, but we share more of their predatory traits. I cannot tell you much more, for most of what I know was imparted to me on the very night I met two of them. It was the last night I ever spent with my creator…."

…...

Ancient Mesopotamia

Marcus's POV

"Marcus, come here my senili. My fresh-heart. Look carefully upon these ruins, and this sand. Drink in what your eyes whisper. For soon it shall all be consumed." Azorexa, my creator, one of the 13 keepers, was with me that night. This was but one name she had, names, like old coins, were worthless in her opinion. She changed her own quite often, I never knew her true name. Perhaps she never had one. At the time of that night, I was but a year out of my old life. In those days, creators kept near their creations, teaching them the Baza, the way of life. I did not remember my old life in the least, she and her lessons were my only memories of that time. I was to be her last creation, for she was old beyond comparison, her creator had been one of the mothers to our race. And Azorexa was failing, her body worn and dying. She taught me then with extra fervor.

"Immortality, never trust that word. Only the dust from our bodies is immortal. I saw my mother die, saw her skin crack and fall away, saw her finally at peace." She had her iris-blue eyes shut then, for back in the early years our eyes turned blue after the change. She then turned her head to me and grasped me about the shoulders, her raven hair falling across my face. "The new ones I see my sisters creating, they seem to think they will never die. Do not be so foolish my child. Everything ages, and everything dies. If death seduces you not from a fellow, then from time. I myself have fallen prey to him, and I am glad to go. Living as long as I've had to is a curse upon all curses. My mind has lost so much…and blood is no more a delight then the wind upon my face. You are my last gift, and this" She gestured to the tortured landscape around us, "is my last gift to you. I may last another centaury, but nothing beyond that. So look well at the birthplace of your race, for it will soon be lost to us."

My creator's words were frightening in their intensity that night, almost as frightening as the crumbling relics around me on that dusty patch we called our origin. Our reason for being there that night was precisely so that I might be able to see that origin, or at least what remained of it. Azorexa and I were leaving for the new lands in the south, away from all of the newborn hordes that were congregating around the capital. Much like today, the appetite of our kind was ferocious, and the blood supply was strained. So I committed that site to the very core of my memory, knowing that after I left this place, few would ever see it again.

"Zeti, come, my child, the night is not long for us and I wish to be out of this land before dawn breaks." Azorexa's voice was pained, and I could then tell that she loved this land dearest of all. Here was her motherland, her own origin, here she had been born and raised by her own mother. And I knew at last, my creator wanted nothing more than to die in her own country. It's almost humorous now, she got her wish that night after all.

We had but barely turned to leave when the scent caught us. To this day, even after so many years, I remember that smell. Almost electric, like the moment before lightning strikes. Azorexa pulled me to the ground and began to bury me in the sand, for there was no where else to run, not in the wasteland of her birthplace anyway.

"Marcus, you must stay down and whatever you might hear, whatever you might smell, do not rise for me. What you see here is the mother race, and they are powerful enemies." I could not see her any longer, my world was made of sand and brick, my eyes saw only the earth. Her footsteps were light and quick as ever, but I heard in them a final resonance. Perhaps it was love for my creator, or hatred for the enemy, but I rose above the sand just as they plunged a flaming sword into her. Azorexa didn't even fight back, she fell into her own lovely violet flame. Consumed by that terrible beauty. A second glance awarded me her murders, a tall female and a leaner, young male. It was the male's eyes that met mine, but neither of us could seem to find words.

…...

South Africa

Bella's POV

10 years. 10 years of romance, trust, love, affection. Everything that came with a lifelong commitment, a marriage. But without a love life or ring to show for it. I had dealt with the intimacy issue years ago, giving Edward my ultimatum. And he chose to keep me celibate and human. Preserving my "safety". Fine, bully for him. In return I got to pursue sharks and every danger that included them. Hekili had provided enough danger to fill several lifetimes after all. In place of sex I had a volatile job environment with poor health benefits.

But the lack of a marriage , now that was a bit concerning. How many times had we pledged our love? How many countless nights had he whispered a pleasant future into my dreams? And yet here we were, working 40 or 50 hours a week; eating cold dinners alone. Guilt leaking into every embrace, he for withholding one of the most intense human experiences from me, and I for replacing that experience with a job that kept him forever on edge.

I ground my face further into the stained pillow of the hotel, breathing in the musk of nights past. The dim whirr of the fan above me did little to help my sleep. Mick and John's conversation kept worming its way into my head, a relentless maggot. I threw off my sweaty covers and went to lean on the bathroom mirror, letting its cool surface ease my feverish head. Maybe it was just too soon for Edward to settle down with me permanently, we were still pretty young….but why not seal the deal? Why?

"Oy! Princess! You left the party too early, wake up and celebrate why don't you?" John's boorish voice bore down on me past the cheap composite wood door.

I sighed and let him into the room, my sweats leaving no need for modesty. Not that I needed to worry about that with John, this was a man I had spent 13 hours with under a single coat during salmon shark tagging in Alaska. That one had been fun explaining to Edward…. "I don't feel like much of a party girl tonight John. Go on without me."

John rolled his eyes and shoved me toward the closet, his voice slurring with too much local rum. "Plesh Bella, Mick wen' to 'is room and I need a wingman 'fer the ladeesh." He paused for a moment, his buzzed brain remembering something. "Ey, did we go an' hurt yer feelingsh? Mick an' me were jush kidding around, Edward will get a fancy ring on ye yet." he sent a hefty pat on my head for emphasis. I smiled and turned toward the closet, maybe a little partying with the locals would do my heart some good. After all, we had just had a major sighting today, what could a little rum do?

…...

Apparently a little rum could do a whole lot, in the span of 4 drinks I was transformed from Dr. Swan to Bell'a'da'ball. And SHE had no qualms about partying whatsoever. Edward went from being a minor suffering to a major heartache for the local women to prey upon. As I raved and rolled and sloshed my drinks in anguish, they were there to back me up and berate the man I loved as a cold-hearted beast. It was stupid behavior, but at the moment, I really didn't care.

John landed a pretty little blonde with my help and she kept him quite entertained throughout the evening. Every sharky tale he regaled her in only made her swoon ever more. She fell like a dead albatross. And John was only too happy to catch her….I also caught a few eyes, not the least of which was a charming British Anthropologist on leave from his university. My rum-lubricated brain listened with fascination to his corn-ball stories and terrible jokes. His greasy-gray eyes somehow managed to hold my attention, and his rough hands somehow found their way to my waist. In my fog of alcohol, I noticed very little. But when he pressed his thin lips to mine I noticed….but I also noticed the empty ring finger, and the nights alone rushed back in on me…..I was tired of being left alone; so I did something very foolish and cruel, but also very human….

I kissed him right back.