I read a lot more than I have in my whole life in those few days after Carlisle (he told me to call him that, although it feels strange) turned me. I had to beg the Cullen's to stay a while; they wanted to leave town as soon as I was able, make a fresh start where people wouldn't know me. My reading was very specific; forms of medieval torture that didn't involve the spilling of blood. Those men were going to pay for what they did. But no blood - I've had enough of them inside me, I don't want any more, but I wouldn't be able to resist if it is right in front of me...so I continue to read, make my plans. I know I will save the best for last; Royce. I intend for him to die in screaming agony. I intend for all of them to see exactly who is after them, and scream just because it's me. Edward seems to know my plan, although I have not spoken specific details to anyone, and he has tried to deter me. I will follow through with this. I continue with my research.

* * * * *

I take on three of the silly little boys who had no real idea of what they were doing, too drunk to really understand, possibly even remember. It doesn't mean I'll spare them, though. I get them as they leave their club, drunk again. One of them thinks I am part of their imagination, another thinks I am actually still alive, and he seems surprised. The last one is not as drunk as the others, he sees my red eyes, my inhuman beauty, my absolute stillness. He knows what is coming and he is the first to scream. And the first to die. I go easy on these three, slowly snap their necks - slowly so they feel the pain as their lives are snuffed out, and slowly they watch one another die. Well, after the first anyway. I am a bit dramatic - I arrange their bodies very carefully after I am done, lay them out peacefully with their legs crossed. These three are not my true goal, so I can be lenient. John and Royce, however....

* * * * *

John is in the same hotel he has been in since arriving here from the south. I know this because I have watched him and Royce, carefully, since turning. I know I was not the first, nor would I be the last...I even knew he had one silly girl in with him now. I scale the side of the building, shimmying up so fast, no one would even notice. I peer in the window, and see him tear away the blouse of an innocent young woman, blonde like me, who looks terrified. My eyes narrow. I flick the window; it crashes to the floor of the room making a satisfying crashing and crunching sound. I adore my new strength. John looks my way, surprised, and his surprise turns to horror when he sees me properly. His grip on the girl loosens, and she runs; she hasn't even noticed what I look like. Lucky her. John backs away from me, step by step, and I laugh, the sound so beautiful, I see him flinch. I speed past him to lock the door, and then smash the lock - no escape except for the 15 storey window. His eyes grow wider; he knows what I am here for. I scoff.

"Can't drink your own medicine?"

He chokes, then straightens. It's nice to see he will at least try to die like a man, even if he can't live like one. It will make my revenge so much sweeter.

I stroll, casually, to the fireplace, pulling a long piece of iron out from my pants. I prefer a dress; in this case, men's clothing was much more...useful for my plan. I pushed the end of the rod into the flame, careful to keep my distance, and silently thanked all the books I'd read. Poor Edward II - he'd received this from his predilection for men, not really a deserving cause for such a death. John, however....his perversions made this seem like the perfect way to die. I could hear him behind me, his heavy breathing, his slow movements towards the door, then the window...the only way out was death, and he was just realizing that now.

I listen to him only a moment longer, then leave the rod in the fire, allow myself to speed across the room, stand inches from him. He steps back, startled and I smile, catch his arm, throw him face down on the bed. My speed and strength shocks him, he cries out. It won't be the only time tonight. I tear strips from the sheets; tie his limbs to the bed posts. Once I am sure he is going nowhere, I return to the fire, grab the iron rod. I make sure I pass the rod in front of his eyes when I return, throw his own words back at him.

"I'll bet you like it like this."

He screams then, and I haven't even started, but he knows what's coming. I tear his pants off with one hand, exact my revenge slowly. He screams a lot, but no one comes. He should have chosen a hotel less inclined to overlook disgusting tendencies.

* * * * *

I smile to myself, hiding my face behind the newspaper. Edward is glaring at me across the table. I have now come to find he can read minds, so I revisit every moment of my night with John, all the bits they missed in the paper. Edward makes a disgusted sound, leaves the table, and leaves Esme looking confused. I hear him speaking to Carlisle in another of the houses many rooms.

"You were wasting your time, Carlisle."

"You need someone, Edward. And she certainly is beautiful."

"I don't need anyone that badly."

Disgusting. Neither did I. Edward may be exceptionally handsome, but as a husband? Not a chance. Although I am a bit annoyed he didn't agree with Carlisle on how attractive I am. I sniff.

I continue to browse the paper. They found nothing much more than a man tied to a bed, dead. It was going to take a bit to find cause of death, my chosen method left no outward signs. Again I smile. I used to be such a nice person.

Now, I wait until the findings of John's death are announced, and I am certain Royce has read them. I want him to know I am coming.

* * * * *

I follow him, to a windowless room, the door as thick as a bank vault, two armed guards stationing themselves outside. I grin to myself, I can't help it. The naivety, thinking that would stop me. Well, at least it gives me time for preparation. I wait until it is dark, and then roam the streets, trying to remember where the dress shop is, where my wedding dress was waiting for me. My human memories were a bit fuzzy, everything except that last night, and Vera. When I finally do find the shop, I see my dress is no longer there. How disappointing, I did so want him to see me in it, just once, but there is another, that will have to do. I decide to take my theatrics the whole way, steal matching shoes and a huge bouquet of pink roses. I peer at myself in a window as I pass by slowly - every inch the beautiful, blushing bride. Perfect. Time to pay Royce a visit.

Those two poor guards are in for more than they bargained for, but I really can't leave witnesses. I fly around the corner; break both their necks before they even realize I am there. They have done nothing to deserve a drawn out death, and I am sorry. Not enough, apparently.

I give the vault door one good solid kick and watch it tumble to the floor. I position myself carefully, and enter slowly, humming the wedding march, head high, flowers just right. I stop when I see Royce, his face a mask of absolute terror. How nice.

"Darn, I should have brought you a better suit. This will just have to do."

I break off one rose stem; push it carefully into his buttonhole.

"There. The ideal bridegroom. Well, except for the other night, anyway. Did you get a bit impatient? I'm impatient too. I can't wait for you to die of natural causes."

He whimpers. I'm disgusted.

"Come on now, Royce, shouldn't you be kissing me, telling me how sorry you are?"

Another whimper. I sigh.

"Fine. Let's get on with this."

I shove him back into his seat. At least he had the decency to stand when I entered. I stand on his toes, push down. He tries not to cry out, but he is too weak. And I have broken them all. People in the Middle Ages...they really did know how to prolong suffering.

I take his hand carefully in mine, as going through the motions of a wedding ceremony. And squeeze. Another cry.

I spend the night enjoying the sound of his yelling, screaming, cursing. I laugh when he curses me; it's as if he thinks there could be anything worse for me now. It takes a long time to break every bone in a person's body, one by one, without breaking skin. I save his skull for the finale.

And then I go home, to do whatever is the vampire equivalent of crying.