Insanity, Seth mused, is not something I'm far from experiencing, or have I already fallen into that deep, dark pit of despair?
His eyebrows were a straight line. His expression, or lack thereof, was not visible in the midst of the councilmen's beady stares. The heat of the same stares burned righteous holes into Seth's body, like a rash. But he stayed firm, knowing that these reedy old men were nothing compared to what he possessed. Their old bones were no longer strong enough to withstand one smack of his hand, one pricking of his thumbs, one inconsequential blow to their physique.
Hurting them would be useless. They were no challenge to Seth's prowess, and they would never be. Not even in their best of shape could they have even scratched his steel-like skin. If Seth could turn the clock back forty years, they would still be no match for him. No one was.
His sly lips curved into a mischievous grin, almost dauntingly so. The councilmen shivered in their seats, some not even daring to question the youth's stride. But, nonetheless, they were still the ones with power, the ones who could bring torment to Seth's life.
But even that was unlikely to happen, as Seth could snap all of their necks before they realized it.
The grin turned despicably harsh, and Desmond's sweat dropped.
School was tough for Bella to endure, especially with the looks her so-called friends gave her. Did she want pity? No, never. She had yet to taste its foul bitterness, and would never want to. But even then, she tasted something rotten on the very back of her tongue. This was pity.
It's not like anyone's died, she thought quietly, so why do they act as if my mother just passed away? Knock on wood.
She licked her lips nervously, bringing her drink to her lips. Her eyes met the curious stares, the unpredictable oaths of benevolence. They were too enraptured to look away, yet were too proud to halt their desire for gossip.
Scandalous, she accused.
It was as if everyone in the immediate vicinity were looking down upon her. Even the teachers, those who were taught (how ironic) not to stare. Couldn't they just... stop? Where was the self-respect? Were they not aware of their own pitiful looks? How their eyes bored into her body like sun spots. She detested it, detested them, but there was nothing she could do to cease their looks. Only their own intelligence could assist her, and that was so wholly limited.
How sad, she contemplated tetchily, that their parents couldn't teach them one ounce of grandeur, or by God, etiquette. But I don't suppose that in this town that any of the parents are clever enough to fathom dignity. But perhaps my standards are too high... compared to everyone's morals.
She twisted the cap on her drink, wetting her lips almost in sentimentality. I used to be fond of them. Even the girls with the bleached blonde hair who, in actuality, are boring, brown-haired girls like myself. I suppose that I'm the one who's had their mind leached, instead of them, with the chemicals sitting heavily on their miniscule brains.
Or maybe the little emo kids sitting in the corner, mourning their not-so-bad life. Or even the muscle heads, who can't seem to get the masculinity out of their one-thought process. Or the art girls, drawing anime like they haven't another purpose, or the band geeks, or the popular kids, or the cheerleaders, or the skateboarders, or the nerds, or all of high school. I used to be fond of them. I used to be one of them.
I used to be fond of their stereotypes.
I used to be fond of him, with his twentieth century romance. The glamor, how fitting, but then again, I was never one for glamor. Bring on the family dinners, the arguments of no appropriate topic, just listing off ones own thought processes. Where is the simplicity? Where is the life?
Where did my life go?
"Apparently the stories at the beach weren't enough to satisfy my own curious nature," Seth said, running his pink tongue over his white teeth. "It wasn't enough to become my own nightmare's fullest monster, but to become it and not know what it involved is even worse. Secrets of undeniable importance were kept from us, the ones with the curse running through our blood. Did you keep them from us because you wanted to have something we did not? Not being a monster wasn't enough for any of you, was it?"
Billy sneered. "We kept the secrets from you for your own protection."
"I sure feel protected now after I found out that my life is connected to another. I don't particularly enjoy discovering that, Billy. How would you?"
"I would accept it." the old man spat with venom.
"Because you never got to be the monster," Seth smirked. "It's not as fun as you may assume, Billy. I can never get too angry. I have to control myself when I just want to blow my goddamn top. I have a cretinous hunger that will probably force my mother to get a second job, along with myself. There is always the urge behind my temples to go run and be free, Billy. But I can't have that, not while La Push is left unprotected from imaginary foes."
"Hold your tongue, boy," Desmond rumbled, "Complaining about things that cannot go unchanged will not grant your questions answers. Get to the point or get out. It is your choice, Clearwater. Use what little brain power you have and get on with it."
Seth narrowed his eyes, his lips pulling back as well. The tips of his lips curled upwards in a monstrous display of beastly fury. His chest shuddered with unmistakable savagery. His body felt so much hotter, like he was sitting on the motherfucking sun. A shiver of acrimony propelled up his spine in a dangerous display of lack of all control.
"Don't push your luck, Bly," he whispered, "'cause I can't really hold my shape that well anymore."
Desmond shuffled his paper with an air of disdain. "I've noticed, Clearwater. You only continue to prove how daft you actually are. Senselessness is one of your more down sloping qualities, is it not? Just like your father. A pitiful excuse for a man, really. I'm not surprised that he hadn't died earlier, you know."
Something like a scream echoed around the hall, pounding in the old men's ears, shattering their hearing aids and causing their pacemakers to stutter in their electrical current. A cold kind of regret dripped into Desmond's soul without pause. He suddenly felt his oxygen cut off as a heavy weight encompassed around his thick neck. He opened his eyes, finding himself face to face with Seth Clearwater, who was perched imperiously on Desmond's side of the high podium.
The boy's right arm was fully transformed into something more animalistic. Claws dug into Desmond's fat scruff without any remorse. He stared into the boy's eyes, noting that they were not their normal caramel color, but rather a striking yellow. A beast's eyes.
Seth's mouth opened, displaying hideously sharp canines, poised with wolfish grace. His bright, undeniably yellow eyes widened in something akin to pleasure, or the thrill of the hunt. "My father... was everything I had wanted to be." His sharp fangs distorted his enunciation slightly, but Seth did not seem to care. "He was the only man I looked up to, and still do to this very day. To this very moment. But if he saw me now, I don't think he'd be that pleased with me. In fact, neither am I, but I can learn to adapt to a new personality. And this..." He leaned down, his teeth pricking Desmond's neck lightly yet painfully, "is surely something I could get used to."
He smiled satanically and pulled away, laughing mockingly. "I can get my answers elsewhere."
He slipped off the podium, his arm reverting back to its former state. But when he turned around to give Desmond a glare, those piercing yellow orbs were staring back at him with such bitter hate.
"Watch out, Desmond. And for the rest of you..." He licked his lips slowly. "Keep an eye out. I wouldn't want you to be stuck out in the wilderness all by your lonesome, now would I?"
The cackle that the boy released was sharp enough to stop Desmond's heart for just a brief moment.
Here we are... In the perspective of the villain (did you expect it?). Seth's not the hero this time, and you can suspect that Edward isn't the bad guy. But how would our heroine (for lack of a better term) fit into is? Hell, even I don't know, so don't go asking me...
This fic is expected to get a hell of a lot darker. Don't say that I didn't warn you.