There's screams echoing across the forest. The sound of skin ripping and bones snapping is deafening. The cries. The howls. The footsteps above are rapid and so are the screams. Hissing. Growling. Snarling.
A small girl huddled against him whimpers and he can do nothing but hug her in a failed attempt to comfort her. Smalls sobs surround him and he can feel his own tears prickling at his eyes. His throat burns and his heart's beating a bit too fast. Sweat trickling down his spine. And his body won't stop shaking no matter how hard he tries to make it stop.
But he cannot afford to be afraid. He needs to be strong for the smaller ones. Someone he can't remember right now always says that children will always let themselves be influenced by the olders' emotions, if someone older was afraid they would also be afraid.
-No!- There's a roar outside followed right after by a blood curling cry. Then the door is yanked open, leaves and twigs raining upon them, cries and whimpers flood the place as a pale woman looms above them, her black and red robe dripping with blood.
Her hair is blonde and her eyes a piercing crimson, her pale skin stained in red seems to almost glow beneath the moonlight, her grin widens as she sees them.
-Found you.
Her hand reaches for a whimpering girl and he pounces, shielding the girl and growling at the woman. A grip of ice snatches his arm and yanks him out of the hole, his shoulder screams on fire at the violent movement and he can't help the cry that leaves his mouth.
-Lemme go! Lemme go!- He tries to kick at the woman without avail, tears streaming down his face.
-The children!- A man screams and soon he's crashing on the ground as a body collides with the pale woman.
-Take the children! They're not safe here!
Hands grab him and hoist him up. The smell is familiar but he can't quite tell who it belongs to. The person sprints and he can do nothing but watch the massacre from over their shoulder.
Mutilated bodies cover the ground. Some bleeding and some not. Blood stains the grass and the stench of metal is strong in the air. Asphyxiating even. The red eyes and the yellow eyes tear at each other. Growls and ravenous snarls washing over the battlefield. Limbs and flesh are flying in the air. Heads hitting the ground. Hearts being ripped. Blood splashes everywhere.
A force crashes with them and he hits the ground hard with a cry, he turns in time to see a teenager looming over him, a hand sticking out of his chest, blood drips down his chin and his eyes flash yellow for the slightest of seconds. Blood spraying out as he coughs.
The sight alone makes horror seize his chest. Like his heart has been yanked too.
-R...un.- The teenager wheezes out as the hand retreats, leaving behind a gaping hole in his chest, his body drops on the ground, lifeless.
The vampire crushes the heart between his fingers.
He screams.
~~~~~~~~~
Jasper didn't like sleeping. As exhausted as he felt these days sleeping was the worst thing someone like him could do, because half of the time nightmares were what plagued his dreams.
Nightmares about the South. About the newborns he killed and about those he trained. About Maria. About the civil war. About the slips he had have and some others were nothing but twisted scenarios he deep down feared more than anything.
But none of those nightmares could come close to the one he had woken up from in a cold sweat a few minutes ago. He can still feel the iced fingers crushing his arm. Can still taste the iron in the air and in his mouth. Hear the screams. The shouts. So much chaos. So much blood. The gaping hole in the chest of someone he didn't even knew yet reacted so strongly to.
He found himself digging his fingers against his forearms until all he could feel was the pain drowning back the horripilant flashes of red and black that threatened to tear apart his entire being.
That hadn't been a dream. It had felt too real. He couldn't even control the shaking that had taken over him. They had been there. The Volturi.
The Volturi killed them.
Jane was going to kill him.
She had been there. She had been there. And Caius. And Alec. And Aro. He felt goosebumps ripple across his skin and a sense of nausea twist his stomach. He gripped his head as a burst of pain explode across his brain.
"AJ! The demons of ice are comin'! Go with the others!"
"They've found us!"
"Hide the children!"
"AJ, stay with Amber! Has anyone seen Rory?!"
"Alex!"
He was assaulted with the screams echoing across the forest. Making him flinch and press his hands against his ears.
It was not real.
Not real.
Not real.
"AJ!"
"You're fine, you're gonna be just fine, a bunch of corpses can't do a thing against us. Trust me."
Liar.
"Where's Orion?"
̶t̶̶H̶̶E̶ ̶c̶̶o̶̶l̶̶D̶ ̶O̶̶n̶̶E̶ ̶H̶̶A̶̶s̶ ̶R̶̶I̶̶p̶̶p̶̶E̶̶D̶ ̶H̶̶i̶̶S̶ ̶H̶̶e̶̶A̶̶r̶̶t̶ ̶O̶̶u̶̶T̶̶.̶
"Amber's gone! I can't find her!"
̶h̶̶e̶ ̶D̶̶I̶̶d̶̶n̶̶'̶̶T̶ ̶w̶̶A̶̶t̶̶C̶̶h̶ ̶o̶̶v̶̶E̶̶R̶ ̶H̶̶E̶̶R̶ ̶a̶̶s̶ ̶h̶̶e̶ ̶S̶̶h̶̶o̶̶U̶̶L̶̶d̶ ̶h̶̶a̶̶v̶̶e̶ ̶d̶̶o̶̶N̶̶e̶̶.̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶C̶̶O̶̶L̶̶D̶ ̶o̶̶n̶̶E̶̶s̶ ̶m̶̶U̶̶S̶̶t̶ ̶h̶̶a̶̶V̶̶E̶ ̶t̶̶o̶̶r̶̶n̶ ̶H̶̶E̶̶R̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶R̶̶o̶̶A̶̶t̶ ̶o̶̶P̶̶e̶̶N̶ ̶a̶̶T̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶i̶̶S̶ ̶P̶̶o̶̶I̶̶N̶̶t̶̶.̶
"I'll look for her you take 'em out of here!"
"Now!"
"Not the kids. Please. Spare 'em! Kill me! Not 'em! I beg of you please!"
There was blood staining the walls.
Glass scattered across the floor as thunder roars outside.
The sobs are gone and so are the whimpers.
Bodies are laying and soaking in blood on the floor.
Raindrops merge with the blood as the wind howls through the broken window and collapsed door.
A girl's throat has been ripped open. Tendrils of flesh barely connecting her head to her body.
There was blood dripping down the walls.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
So so much blood.
It reeked of metal and puke and piss.
And there was red everywhere.
It was staining him.
Seeping through his clothes and pooling all around him.
All of that blood.
He was bathed in it and he could feel it beneath his fingers. Between his toes. In his mouth.
"I have always been a fan of leaving a survivor behind. It makes life so much more entertaining. Nothing more beautiful than their faces in the mist of their loved one's deaths."
The blood was still staining him. Pooling all over the place and threatening to drown him in it. The walls were closing in on him and the darkness was pulling at him. Lightning strikes outside and bathes the cabin in enough light for him to see the carnage surrounding him. An intestine rests close to his feet. It leads to the superior half of a boy. His eyes are bulging and his jaw has been ripped. Blood. Blood. So much blood.
And he's soaking in it.
He choked in a sob and scrambled to the bathroom. Opening the faucet and scrubbing his hands beneath the water. But it won't go. It won't go, why wouldn't it go?!
And as he looked up at the mirror his heart stopped.
Blood.
There was blood in his face. All over his clothes. Hair. Neck. He was soaking in it. Blood. Blood. Blood. How could there be so much blood?
And it was all theirs.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"You mutts should learn whose at the top of the food chain, maybe that way we wouldn't have to hunt you lot down every few decades."
"Such pathetic creatures."
Something snapped deep within him and his fist collided against the mirror without restraint. The force of the impact sent millions of glimmering shards raining down onto the sink and floor, clattering with sharp thuds on the carpet/floor as the mirror explode.
A rush of blinding rage got him grabbing the mirror's frame and ripping it off the wall. He threw it and it smashed against the wall before dropping to the floor with a deafening clatter. His fingers ached but his chest burnt. His throat burnt. Everything burnt.
And the shards of glass on the ground reflected back at him his bloodied face. Mocking him and reminding him of what he failed at. And his blood burnt.
It burnt with the strength of a volcano and flared like a hurricane of blazing fire.
But with the same weakness of a bubble it puffed out leaving nothing but searing pain behind and a suffocating sense of guilt that choked him.
He couldn't breathe past the stench of blood. He couldn't see past the bloodied walls. Blood staining the wood. All of him.
His knees gave out as he dropped infront of the sink. Hands gripping the edge so tight the ceramic cracked beneath his grip. Sobs strangling him as he squeezed his eyes shut. Breathing was becoming harder than he ever thought possible and he ended up tearing the first few buttons of his shirt but it did nothing at all to improve his breathing.
Images flashed like a cruel movie of red. Blood. Red. So much red. Prickles of burning pain centered in his skull and a sound stuck at the back of his throat as his forehead pressed against the cabinet's small door.
Opening his eyes in order to get rid of the images didn't work for the floor below him was tainted red. Blood. Pink. Red. Eyes. Hearts. Intestines. He was surrounded by bloodied organs. Limbs. And he still couldn't breathe.
And as he lifted his gaze it was to find that there was blood dripping down the walls now. Down the ceiling. The door. The shower curtain. Bubbling out of the bathtub. Blood. Blood. Blood. He couldn't breathe. The iron was strangling him and crushing his lungs and chest with searing heat. He coughed and gasped in a poor attempt to suck in air but all that did was make him gasp louder for air and fall back. Backing off as the blood pooled out of the sink. Dripping onto the floor in slow motion.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
His back hit against something hard but he didn't care. Because he couldn't breathe and there was blood staining the walls. The ceiling. Everything. All he could see was blood. All he could see was red. All he could feel was the thick blood beneath his fingers. The children.
The wails screeched like an echo inside a cave. Like nails dragging across a chalkboard. So far and still so close it felt as if he had them right beside him. Agonizing wails. Screams. Cries. Pleas.
It was too much.
He wanted it to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Someone make it stop, why wouldn't they stop?!
He curled in on himself. Fingers tugging at his hair as he kept gasping for air. Mouthfuls of copper making his chest burn. He couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe. He heard something but he wasn't quite sure what it was, it felt clogged out, the world swimming around him in nothing but deafening wails, making his stomach churn and his skull feel at the verge of blasting.
The stench was all over the place. The iron was crawling down his throat. Twisting inside his lungs and crushing his chest until all he could do was wheeze out as tears streamed down his face.
It wouldn't stop.
They were all dead. She was dead. He was dead. They were all dead. And now he was gonna die. He couldn't breathe. His chest hurt he was gonna die he was gonna die he was gonna die he was gonna die he was-
-per.
Someone was calling his name. Someone someone someone who? Who was calling his name? What was even his name?
-Jazz, love, it's me, Alice, it's alright. Whatever it's, it's not happening, it may feel that way but it's not happening, it can't hurt you. You are safe, I promise.
The voice felt distorted to his ears and almost blurred, making him tug at his hair even more as a choked sound left him. Because the wails wouldn't stop. The screams. Terror was sticking to his skin with such strength it did nothing but merge with his own emotions. Overwhelming. Asphyxiating.
-Jazz, hey, can you take deep breaths for me? You are in Canada, remember? You are safe here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alice was more than aware of Jasper's PTSD. While those attacks had decreased with time it hadn't disappeared. And while the Cullens had been made aware of it a long time ago most of them had never had to deal with Jasper during a flashback.
Still.
None of the flashbacks and/or panic attacks that he had ever had had been as explosive as this one. The fact alone that his gift had obliterated the entire house had let Alice know that something was more than just wrong.
The terror had seized her chest with the might of two tsunamis crashing into each other. It had forced her to grab the wall in a failed attempt to balance herself. It had made the wolves shift against their will and had brought Rosalie to her knees.
For a moment Alice had been unable to even move. But she had felt the weight of his gift before. Thus. It wasn't as impossible to break out of his influence and seek him out.
But nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight that met her.
Jasper was all huddled in the corner of the bathroom, curled in on himself and muttering things she couldn't quite understand even with her heightened hearing. Fingers gripping his hair.
There was glass scattered across the floor and sink from where the mirror had once been.
-Jasper?- Alice crouched infront of him. Careful as she did so so as to not startle him.
Jasper flinched and shrank farther from her. His breathing was coming out in short gasps and too erratic for comfort. It made Alice's chest ache. It didn't matter how many times it happened she would never get used to see him so distressed.
-Jazz, love, it's me, Alice, it's alright. Whatever it's, it's not happening, it may feel that way but it's not happening, it can't hurt you. You are safe, I promise.- Alice tried to reassure, her voice as soft as possible.
But Jasper didn't seem to even hear her.
-Jazz, hey, can you take deep breaths for me? You are in Canada. You are safe here. Whatever it's it cannot hurt you. Just take deep breaths okay? You are safe here.- Alice assured with her voice soft but firm. She needed to keep calm for panicking would do nothing but make things worse.
She wasn't sure for how long she kept repeating the same phrase of "You are safe" but Jasper seemed to calm down. His breathing loosening its erratic mark to a more slow still shuddering one, but something was something. Even his fingers stopped grabbing at his hair.
-Jazz? You with me?- Alice calls gently to which she gets a short nod in return. That releases some of the tension in Alice's shoulders.
And when he finally looks up it's to break Alice's heart. The amount of grief in his face was so deep it made her throat close. How could someone harbor that kind of pain in their face and still be able to look sane?
-Jazz?- Alice calls forcing herself to swallow past the lump in her throat.- Is something wrong?
-I...- Jasper uncurled from the corner in order to roam his gaze around the bathroom almost as if expecting something to crawl out of the wall and tear him apart from the inside out.
His gaze settled back on her and instead of answering he reached out for her and pulled her into a hug. Surprise seized her but she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him.
-It's alright.- She said. She wasn't sure what was wrong or what even had been the cause for this but the fact that he was so quiet... It didn't settle well with her.
Jasper for his side? He hadn't felt this numb since he killed that newborn child. He had been nothing but 13 and still... He clung to Alice.
He wasn't even sure how to feel about this whole thing. Who had those people been? He knew the Volturi had killed them. That he had survived because a vampire found it amusing to let him live. But then how did he end up with his parents? How did he end up with them? And who had that teenager been? Who was Alex? Orion? Rory? Amber? Who were they?
Even if he didn't knew who those names belonged to it made his blood burn and it made an overwhelming hatred bleed into his soul.
Hatred against the Volturi. The hatred he had held before because of Aro's interest in Alice... It had become almost too unbearable to not act upon it. He wanted to rip them all apart. Tear them to pieces and make them beg for their lives. Something moved beneath his skin and the heat in his veins grew.
Those monsters...
He would kill them.
He would make them beg for something sweeter than pain.