*drum roll please*
I give you Edward! This is my take on what happened in that Chicago hospital, so enjoy!
Also, I haven't gotten any feedback on this story yet….so if you like it, hate it, whatever….drop me line and let me know!
Edward - 1918
He stiffened as the young doctor's cool hands felt his head, then the glands in his throat, and finally his swollen cheeks. The fever he had had for days now continue to wrack his already weakened body. The influenza virus that had struck his entire family hit him last, and it had hit him with more vigor than expected for his young, strong, body.
He sucked in a breath of the chilly hospital air, wincing as it came in contact with his parched throat. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw that the young, blonde doctor was on duty that night.
Watching him, he waited as his pen scratched across his pad of paper before he tried to speak. The doctor paused, the end of his pen pressed against his lips, as if he was contemplating telling Edward something.
"My…m-mother…" Edward croaked, raising a frail hand toward the doctor. Dr. Cullen looked at the young boy, using his cool hand to gently press Edward's back down on the bed. He paused in thought for a moment, his strange golden eyes resting on the boy. Edward vaguely wondered what he was considering before taking another pained breath.
Edward could faintly hear a nurse in the background, tending to someone else in the long, large room where most of the flu patients were kept together.
"Doctor, would you like me to change the sheets now?" the nurse asked him quietly. Edward watched as Dr. Cullen tried to discreetly shake his head 'no'. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was as he feared; he was going to die, and soon.
"Name?" she asked the doctor quietly.
"Masen, Edward," the doctor replied, trying to appear casual. Edward closed his eyes again as the nurse scratched his name down on a pad, no doubt to make the proper preparations.
"Don't worry, nurse. Go ahead and take your break. I can handle things in this wing for at least an hour," he said quietly, earning a grateful smile from the young girl. She hurried away, removing her face mask that some of the nurses wore over their noses and mouths while they worked their shifts.
Dr. Cullen looked down at him, lowering himself to kneel beside the bed.
"Edward…I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we just lost your mother. I did everything in my power to help her…but her immune system was just too weak. I'm sorry, son," he said softly, his eyes full of sorrow.
Edward opened his eyes halfway to look up at the apologetic doctor, his eyes filling with tears that he was too weak to wipe away.
Dr. Cullen swallowed slowly, his eyes never leaving his face. He reached over to the bedside table to dip the cold washcloth into a cup of water before dabbing Edward's swollen tongue and lips with it.
Edward breathed, his breaths becoming more and more uneven as he tried to muster the strength to speak.
"I'm…alone," he breathed, looking up dizzily at the young man. Dr. Cullen nodded sadly, his eyes falling to the floor.
"I'll be back to check on you in a little while. I have to finish my rounds. I'm sorry, my boy," he said quietly before rising and walking away.
The fever that wracked his body almost made him too delirious to process the fact that now both of his parents were dead. He tried to calm himself and find sleep, hoping only to ease himself a little more before meeting death on his own in the drafty wing of the Chicago Hospital.
The flu had come quickly to Chicago. Rumblings had been heard as far east as Boston in April, and by August, the entire country lived in fear due to the carts filled with bodies lining the streets. Edward's father had died with the first string of deaths in July; he and his mother had fallen sick in October. It was now the end of November, and thousands were dying in the hospitals every day. There was no hope for any of them.
His fever had run all the way up to 103 yesterday according to the timid nurse that had taken his temperature. His body was so sore that any pressure on his limbs felt like sheer torture. The fever made it hard to process thoughts or think about anything coherently. Even his skin was starting to turn a strange, blackish blue color in places.
There was no hope for him; he was going to die.
Not that it mattered. Not only were his parents now dead, but his aunts, uncles, and cousins were gone as well. Going home wouldn't even be a welcoming because everyone he knew was currently covered with a sheet. They were lucky if they even had a toe tag tied to them to identify them for their wooden boxes they would be buried in.
He had no idea how long he had been laying there really; his mind knew enough to tell him that it was cold out, so it must be winter by now. It felt like he had been left to burn from fever for months. Not that it mattered how long he had been there; the only way he was leaving was in a cart with the rest of the moaning patients in the beds beside him. He was only seventeen; he had wanted to join the war effort. He wanted to play baseball. He wanted to go to college, buy a home in the country, and maybe someday have a boy of his own.
His heart sped up in his chest when he realized that none of this would happen.
No…I want to live. I am too young to let this horrid sickness take me….he thought.
Eventually, the young doctor returned, his cool hands grasping Edward's sweaty ones. It was early morning, not yet dawn and Edward knew that his shift would be ending soon. Edward winced slightly at the feeling of the light pressure. His entire body ached from days of the persistent fever. The doctor kneeled again by the side of his bed and watched him as he lay there, cringing in pain, unable to speak. He leaned forward to talk to him in the faintest of whispers.
"My boy….I want to save you, Edward. I want to keep you from dying," he whispered, softly, pulling away to look at him slightly.
Yes! Save me….I don't want to die! His mind screamed at him, but his swollen mouth and nearly paralyzed body wouldn't obey.
He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. His green eyes met the golden, curious ones of the young doctor, and he managed to nod stiffly.
Carlisle spoke to him again. "It will not be without price, Edward. You will suffer greatly, but you will live on. Is this your wish?"
Edward squeezed his hand in reply, his body beginning to tremble with the will and need to stay alive. The doctor nodded, a pained expression decorating his features. He looked around, making sure they were alone, and draped a white sheet of the deceased over Edward's entire body.
He leaned down again to speak to the boy. "I must get you out of the hospital. I will act as though you are deceased – stay as still as you can mange," he whispered before pushing the wheeled bed out of the long room.
They hadn't gone ten feet when he heard a voice of one of the young nurses that worked in the wing.
"Doctor, I can take him down to the basement if you like," she said, her voice weary.
"No, Evelyn, that is fine. My shift is over and I shall be leaving soon – it is on the way. I leave through the back entrance that leads to Fifth Street, so it's no trouble to go down there," he replied smoothly.
"Yes Doctor," the young girl replied. She glanced at Edward's feet, which were the only things protruding from the white sheet that covered him.
"Who is this one?" she asked sadly.
"Edward Masen. He was seventeen," Carlisle replied, his voice low and full of emotion.
"Oh, the young boy in the corner…I'll miss him, he was always so kind before the fever hit him bad. I wonder what he was like?" she said softly.
Carlisle reached over to gently pat her on the shoulder. "The only solace we can take is by knowing that he will soon be with God," he replied.
Edward heard a sniffling noise, and took some comfort in knowing he was not the only person affected by the horrible outbreak in Chicago.
"Sometimes I don't know if I can handle much more…there's just so many…"
"Evelyn, it is in times like these that our strength is challenged and our true characters are revealed. You are a strong girl, and I am confident that you will make it through this tragedy as a truly great woman," he said firmly.
She nodded, wiping away some of the tears that had fallen down her cheeks and hurried away.
Carlisle pushed the bed down to the basement morgue, where bodies usually were quickly embalmed and given toe-tags to identify them by. Edward winced through his fever and deliriousness at the stench of the large room, which was overflowing with carts full of deceased Chicagoans.
Carlisle shuffled a few papers around, waited until they were alone, and then Edward felt himself being lifted into his strong arms. He opened the back door and bolted into the night.
Edward's mind reeled. The cold air of the Illinois night woke him up a bit, and he shivered in the strange, strong arms of the young doctor as he ran. It felt like he was flying. In only a few minutes, he felt the doctor barely jostle him as he jumped up several flights of stairs as if they were merely steps. He was placed on a hard, sagging mattress and the doctor pulled the sheet off of him quickly.
Edward tried to open his eyes, but all he could see was a blur flashing around the room, moving things. He believed he was in an apartment, but couldn't be sure for it was so cold that it almost felt like he was outside.
After a few moments, the doctor pulled the metal bed frame easily to one side of the room, quickly lighting a fire in the nearby fireplace. Edward coughed, his raw throat aching with every breath. His body shook with tremors as it tried desperately to fight against the virus, but to almost no avail. He moaned and winced as the ache in every corner of his body began to throb; it was like his heart was pounding in his own ears. His tongue swelled, making it harder and harder for him to take his haggard breaths. The virus had exhausted him for almost a month now, and he knew that the end was near.
"Edward….do you still wish to live like I do? I am a creature that is damned to walk the earth at night, but I am indeed living. Do you still wish to live, even if it is a never ending night? "
Edward didn't need to consider it. He was too young to die, he knew this.
He nodded, his body still shaking with the excruciating fever. He coughed violently, blood spattering his tattered nightgown. Carlisle dampened a cloth and wiped his face and mouth carefully. Edward managed to open his eyes enough to see the doctor as he stared at his hands.
"P-please…" Edward moaned his voice raspy and dry.
Carlisle seemed to be in a battle of wills with him as he struggled on the side of Edward's bed. For a moment, Edward panicked. Had the doctor not promised to save him? To spare his life? Why was he waiting?
He leaned forward in Edward's ear, his breath sweet. "Forgive me, my son," he said quietly, before leaning down and cutting his teeth into Edward's neck. He struggled for a few moments before violently pushing the bed away from himself. Edward cried out as his teeth ripped away from the tender flesh of neck.
However, the wound on his neck was soon the least of his worries. His eyes bulged open as it started.
Hot, searing, burning, fire.
No….no…something isn't right…I was supposed to be saved, not devoured by this monster! He panicked.
He knew something wasn't right. The flames licked at the insides of his body as the flames moved from his neck throughout the rest of his body. He faintly heard the doctor gasping for breath in the corner, his body frozen with shock.
Part of Edward's mind feared that the doctor would return and continue to maul him with his razor sharp teeth, but the flames that had taken over his weak body were at the front of his mind.
For hours the burning sensation moved throughout his veins, muscles, and every bone, cracking and mauling it with what Edward was sure were the very fires of hell.
I didn't ask for this…I didn't' want him to do this to me…If I would have known I would have chosen to stay in the hospital and die…
His mind raced and fumbled to make coherent thoughts as he tried to distract himself from the mind-numbing pain that raced through his limbs.
I should have just stayed at the hospital and died, he repeated in his thoughts again.
Hours passed. He tried to beg the doctor several times to just kill him, but the flames of hell that were burning him seemed to be fueled even more by his attempt to speak.
The young doctor - Carlisle - stayed by his side, visibly debating whether or not he should leave or stay. Edward faintly wondered what was happening to him – the doctor had promised that he would live, but that certainly didn't seem plausible now as he burned on the sagging mattress. He also wondered why the doctor never seemed to eat, drink, or sleep as the hours and days wore on.
Just when he thought he had agreed with the doctor on a life of everlasting pain and torture, he sucked in a breath of air. The pain was fading in his fingers and toes. He still dared not move them; he was terribly afraid that the fire would come back, licking and burning every inch of his surely charred veins.
He drifted, barely alive on a sea of pain and fire that never seemed to end. He felt like he was trapped and downing, being burned alive when he was already on the brink of death. Hanging by his fingertips, he gasped and wept while his throbbing heart was engulfed by the venomous flames. It pounded in his chest as the hours ticked by; Edward would have welcomed death with open arms at this point. Nothing seemed to offer any relief, even as the doctor spoke in soothing tones in his hear.
"It's almost over now, Edward. Please hang on….it won't be longer now," he said to him softly.
Edward tossed his head and tried to open his eyes, hoping that the cool air of the small room would help his singed irises find some relief as the flames engulfed even them as well. He let a grunt of frustration leave his lips as his heart thrummed wildly in his chest, trying to stop the flames from taking it. He winced and fought the urge to cry out as the evil heat seemed to penetrate his skull and engulf his brain with its tentacles of flame. His head rolled from side to side as it charred everything in its wake; was nothing going to be left unsigned and un-scorched?
Suddenly, he was distracted by a voice, but it was a different kind of voice than he had heard before. It had the distinct mental flavor of the calm, young doctor, but it didn't sound like he was speaking out loud. It floated into his mind and echoed there, wisps of blurriness coating it, but it was still clear enough for Edward to hear.
I cannot bear to watch the boy suffer any longer…what have I done? I don't remember the change taking this long. How long was I out? Two days? Three? It's almost been three days…I can't take this much longer. The venom has already spread, there's no way to even put the boy out of his misery now…..
The mental voice floated through Edward's singed mind, raking over the coals that now felt like they dwelled there. Surely his skin was black as ash by now.
And what did the doctor mean by the venom? Is that what was searing through his body? It made sense…the burning felt like it would never cease, but the doctor seemed to think it would be over soon.
He concentrated, trying to decide if his mind was playing tricks on him as he felt his arms and legs slowly cool down and the fires in them go out. He still remained perfectly still, fearing that any large movement of joy would send the flames roaring back. His body now felt like a fire that had died down, but was still hot enough to burst into flames again should it be prodded with a poker and given new air.
His skin is changing…the voice came back. Edward strained his ears as he tried to listen. His mind could clearly tell him that there was no one speaking in the room. It almost felt like his mind was speaking to him. Yet, as confusing as it was to lie there in pain and hear voices inside his own mind, he was almost certain that the voice he was hearing was that of Dr. Cullen.
As he laid there and fought with his better sense, he was temporarily distracted enough to not realize it at first when the pain began to fade even further into his body, releasing his legs, arms, and head. Had the fire not raged so hot inside his stomach and chest, he would have noticed the soothing, cool feeling that his calmed body parts now had.
His skin is evening out…no more imperfections. He had a lot of scars on his elbows and knees from cuts and scrapes…he must have been active as a child. At least he isn't suffering as much now…it won't be long until the transformation is complete. God, give him strength to endure this….
The mental voice had returned. Now Edward was positive that it was the voice of Dr. Cullen. But why could he hear it? He was utterly confused as he listened to his own heart pound and race in his ears. He winced as it took on a whole new rhythm while it beat frantically; he was almost sure it would explode. Well, if it did explode, at least it would all be over, he thought.
The faster his heart beat, the easier it was for one part of his mind to ponder the strangeness of his new ability while the other processed the racing rhythm of his chest.
Please Edward, stay calm. It's almost over….I can't bear this much longer…never again will I be so selfish as to change another human being into a monster…
Edward was certain now that he was hearing Carlisle speak, but he wasn't sure how. The words from the doctor were spoken in a long, strange stream of conscious thought that he didn't quite understand. He didn't have time to think about much of anything much longer though, for his heart began to skip and falter as something changed.
Suddenly, it felt like all the pain he had felt for the last few endless days of his life was being sucked up like the eye of a tornado. The flames and embers began to move from every part of his body and began to center in his heart as if it was pieces of metal to a large magnet. He cried out and grunted in agony as his heart began to thump wildly as if to combat all of the flames that now dwelled there.
Nothing he had experienced yet could come close to this torture.
He felt the doctor's cool hands rest on his arms gently as Edward began to thrash from the wild pain searing through his charred heart. The sound of it desperately fighting for its life seemed to echo in his ears louder than anything he had ever heard. If he wasn't so blinded with pain he would have feared of going deaf from the frantic pounding of his heart.
Then, he felt Carlisle press his arms down as if they were beams of steal to hold him in place to keep him from thrashing to the ground. His chest rose and sunk wildly as his heart throbbed.
Thump. Thump. ThumpThumpThump…
The speed increased and Edward braced himself as he prepared for the organ to burst in his chest in an explosion of fire and agony. But no explosion came.
His heart thumped in his chest two more times, and then stopped. And all at once, the fire was out. It was over.
He sucked in a violent breath as soon as he realized it was over. He lay there, perfectly still, unsure if he should move or breathe. Frowning, he realized all at once that he no longer needed to take another breath or exhale. Instead, he let the breath of air out in a hiss.
It worked…he's alive…I hope he's not in pain anymore…oh God please let the boy be okay….
There it was again. The voice. Edward's eyes flew open and he instantly went rigid as his nose instinctively searched for danger. He sat up jerkily, his senses in overload.
He seems panicked…I hope he isn't scared…it's so strange to wake up for the first time like this….
"Edward?"
Edward flew up from the bed, jumped, and landed against the wall of the large room, braced for an attack. A snarl left his lips before he had even landed on his feet. His wide eyes searched the room for a predator, but all he saw were the strange golden eyes of the calm doctor from the hospital.
"Edward?" he repeated, holding up his hands. The doctor moved slowly towards him, as if he was attempting to corner a wild dog.
Edward quickly surveyed the room again; he was in an upstairs, one room apartment. The bed he had burned on for days was pulled away from the wall and set in front of the fireplace; a small kitchen area was to the left of that, and on the other side of the bed was a worn leather armchair. The rest of the one room apartment was meagerly decorated; the doctor's belongs were quite sparse. However, Edward was not so much concerned with this.
He backed against the wall, his senses going wild as he continued to growl and hiss. This was not normal. Why was he making these strange noises and why did his body feel so strange and foreign?
He looks terrified…I should say something…don't want to scare…he looks so wild…I hope I haven't created a real monster…how do I even begin to explain….
"Edward, you are safe here," the doctor said quietly. He continued to hold up his hands as the voice still floated through Edward's head.
Edward's mind was reeling. Between the strange voice in his head, the strange, new scent of the man in front of him, and his changed body, it felt like he should have passed out from mental exhaustion. But instead, each topic felt like it was being separated into files and neatly tucked away into his brain where it was organized for him to view. It was an odd sensation to contemplate several things at once.
He gripped something behind him as he struggled to make sense of everything. A loud ripping sound broke the silence in the room, shocking him completely. Edward jumped to the side, looking down at the piece of wood in his hand. His eyes flashed back to where he had been standing.
He had torn the windowsill clear off of the window.
"What have you done to me?" he growled, his eyes growing even wider as he dropped the piece of wood to the floor. He looked back up at the doctor, who continued to move even closer to him. Edward hissed again and before he could even think to move, found himself on the opposite side of the room.
He exhaled sharply in surprise. How had he moved so quickly?
I've terrified him…oh dear…maybe I shouldn't have tried to walk over to him so soon…he doesn't understand…maybe I should explain to him what….
Edward's eyes widened in terror as he slammed himself as far into the corner of the large room as he could. The doctor gave him a questioning look before Edward grabbed two fistfuls of his own copper hair in his head and bent over in shock.
"Edward?" The doctor repeated, attempting to move closer.
Edward straightened up and panted, still in a state of confusion. "Why can I hear you?" he asked frantically.
The young doctor looked at him strangely, tilting his head to the side. "Edward, you're in my apartment. You were in the hospital dying of influenza and I decided to take you here to-"
"I know where I am! Why can I hear you?!" Edward repeated, more hysterical.
Dr. Cullen looked at him strangely again, his thoughts matching his facial features. What does he mean? He must still be disoriented…I wish I could help him understand…if he would calm down…I would help him….he looks so scared…
"Edward, I am Carlisle Cullen, the doctor that helped you in the hospital…I mean you no harm," he said calmly.
Edward doubled over at the waist, grabbing his hair again. He gasped for breath, trying to remember to breathe in and out as he stood there panicking. Ignoring the doctor's spoken words, he instead grew more frantic to understand the mental banter of the blonde man before him.
"No, I'm not disoriented, I want to know why I can hear what you're thinking!" he spat, his voice raising.
Dr. Cullen's strange golden eyes widened in fear as he processed what the young man was telling him. "You…you…you can hear...me?" the doctor stuttered, his jaw dropping open slightly.
Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding. "Yes, I can hear you. I didn't know what that was when I…what…what am I? What have you done to me?" he asked quickly, his hand returning to his side.
The doctor's eyes dropped to the floor, almost in shame. He looked at the fire, his lips pressing into a thin line as he ran a hand through his corn silk colored hair.
"Tell me!" Edward roared, still shocked by the sound of his voice. Even irate and screaming, it sounded smooth and debonair, almost older.
The doctor opened his mouth to speak, and instead let his mind do the work for him.
If you can forgive me…I am sorry…
"I don't care if you're sorry! Answer my question!"
"Edward, I stole you away from the hospital to keep you alive. I have changed you into what I am…a vampire."
Edward's eyes widened as Carlisle's mind showed him a picture in his mind of his dying mother, rasping for breath and begging the doctor to help her son.
"How did she know? How did my mother know what you were?" he asked suddenly, stepping out of the corner where he had been standing.
Carlisle gave him another look of amazement as Edward continued to read his thoughts and question them out loud.
"She knew you were a…a…vampire?" he asked in amazement.
Carlisle gave him a pained look, and then nodded his head. "Yes, she knew something about me was different. She was a very perceptive woman."
He watched as Edward processed everything, growing more familiar with his new mind.
"You mean...I…you changed me…I'm…a vampire…" he finally spat incredulously. He held out his hands and looked at them in amazement. The scars and scrapes from years of an active, sports filled childhood were completely gone. The freckles he got from spending hours in the sun playing baseball had faded. Every blemish he had ever had were now completely replaced by smooth, stony white skin.
His eyes rose to meet Carlisle's, and he nodded somberly. He looked up suddenly, holding up his pale hands.
He must be frightened…I must tell him that I don't want to hurt him or anyone else…he is probably thinking the worst of me, and of our kind…I must tell him…
"I don't mean you any harm, Edward," he said quickly, matching the topic of his thoughts out loud. "I'm at least able to tell you that we are not like the vampires portrayed in stories," he added.
Edward met his pleading eyes as the doctor spoke. Slowly, he relaxed his stance and tried to calm himself slightly as the doctor continued to speak.
"I do not kill humans, and I can go out during the day…I don't sleep in a coffin, or any other silly thing that is part of vampire folklore," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I try to live as much like a human as possible, and I have gone unnoticed for a very long time."
Edward felt an uneasy feeling come over to him as he looked down at his ivory fists that hung at his sides. He was remembering the fuzzy memory of the doctor whispering something about eternal life to him before the painful bite.
His hand flew up to his neck as he traced the crescent scar that the doctor's teeth had left there. His hands then made their way to feel his mouth and his teeth. No fangs, he thought.
"No, no fangs," Carlisle said softly, giving him a sad smile.
Edward braced himself before asking his next question. "How…how long have you gone unnoticed, exactly?" he asked, looking up at the doctor.
I knew he would want to know…it will scare him…I don't want him to fear…..
"I was born in London in the 1640s," he answered quietly. Edward let a shaky breath go, unsure of how to handle himself. He had been alive for hundreds of years.
He looks panicked…this will be a hard first year for the boy, I can already tell…what will I do with him? I should never have….I'm so sorry, Edward…
Edward looked up, his eyes meeting Carlisle's as the doctor struggled with his thoughts. He could tell that the other man was trying to remember that he could read his mind and could hear his every thought.
"Why can I hear you? And what do you mean by first year? What you will do with me – what does that mean?" he asked quickly, stepping closer to the doctor.
"I don't know…Edward, why you can hear me. Certain vampires…we have gifts. I was not gifted, but certain vampires are," he spoke quickly, his words falling out of his mouth with great speed. Edward frowned as he realized he would have never been able to understand him with human ears; advanced hearing must be a new aspect of his new body.
"Certain vampires have gifts that vary...no one is alike that I have ever met. And as for your first year…it is the hardest. Your thirst will be the worst while you are a newborn, or, in your first year, rather."
"Thirst?'
He nodded slowly, his eyes full of sorrow as he admitted the next aspect of vampire life. "Yes…we…we do need blood to survive, Edward. But I do not kill humans! I hunt animals," he said quickly.
"I don't understand…we hunt? Animals?"
Carlisle nodded again. "Your throat must burn terribly…when it becomes dark out, I will take you out to hunt. Draining an animal will sooth the burn, although the discomfort….it is a trait of our kind, I'm afraid," he said.
Edward put a hand to his throat, his mind trying to remember life before this change. All he got were blurry clips and snippets of a life that seemed like it happened ages ago.
"My mother…" he said slowly, his eyes growing unfocused. "She's in the hospital...I must go see her."
Carlisle moved quickly to his side, earning a warning growl from the newborn beside him.
"No, Edward, you cannot…" he trailed off, his thoughts taking over.
He had no one left, that is why I did this to him. He had nowhere to go, no one to come home to…he is alone…
The doctor's eyes grew frantic as he realized that he had just let something slip in his mind. Edward reeled back, crouching defensively as he hissed again.
"You lie!" he growled, his eyes widening in anger. Carlisle shrunk away, holding up his hands.
"Edward…son…I know this is a lot to handle, but I would not lie…" he stumbled over his words as they poured from his mouth. "I…I cannot tell you how sorry I am…it was the only way…I never meant to upset you. Your mother begged me, Edward…"
"I don't believe you! She couldn't be dead! She couldn't!"
Carlisle stiffened, trying desperately to reel in his panicked, choppy thoughts.
He is alone in the world and completely terrified….and I am too. I'm terrified for me, for him, and for what I have done to this boy…Lord please forgive me for torturing this poor soul….
Edward hissed as Carlisle's panicked thoughts drained through his funnel-like mind – he read and listened to each one before tossing it away with another growl.
"Edward please…you must stay here with me. I will explain more, I promise, but you cannot go outside without my help! You might kill someone!" Carlisle begged, reaching for Edward's arm. He pulled away quickly, his crimson eyes widening.
"I'm no murderer! I'm a seventeen year old man, and I'm going home to my family…this is all just a bad dream…it can't be happening…" Edward mumbled, grabbing his copper hair in frustration. Carlisle winced as they boy's frantic ramblings echoed in the large, upstairs apartment.
"Where am I?" He growled, glancing out the window.
"In my apartment…I live on the outskirts of the city…" Carlisle said slowly, carefully scrutinizing Edward's reaction.
The boy tried to sort through his already fuzzy memories as he paced the room, his speed quickening with every lap. His breaths came in frustrated puffs as he pivoted and turned on the wood, his bare feet making almost no sound.
What have I done to this boy? Carlisle wondered.
Edward's head jerked up, and in a flash he was across the room, his hands locked in an iron grip around Carlisle's throat. He gasped and tried to slide away, but to no avail.
"Edward...you're…hurting me…" he managed to gasp as the boy's grip tightened.
"Then you will understand what I am feeling at this exact moment," Edward hissed, his red eyes narrowing at the doctor. "You did this to me, and you will fix it!" he said.
Carlisle stopped trying to breath, and did his best to pry Edward's strong newborn hands away from his neck enough to speak.
"The change…is…permanent," he gasped, falling back slightly when Edward's eyes widened and his grip slackened enough for him to break free.
"I'm…I'm…a demon…a vampire…for how long?"
Carlisle winced as his mind raced. Forever.
When Edward heard that one word, he let out a breath of pain that he had been holding. His shoulders slumped and his crimson eyes fell to the floor in defeat. He looked at the doctor slowly backing away, and his mind was made up. He had to see for himself.
No sooner had he thought about jumping through the window was he already there and flying out of it, the cloth drapes fluttering in the wind. Carlisle raced to the window, opening it further to stick his head out.
"Edward!" he yelled loudly, his golden eyes wide as he watched the young boy disappear into the dark streets. And just like that, the newborn vampire he had created was gone.
He raced through the dark streets, testing his speed and newfound senses. The doctor lived in a sparsely populated neighborhood on the edge of town, but that did nothing to pacify the new vampire.
He could feel the cobblestones shift and crack under his feet as he raced through the darkness, his feet churning beneath him. If he wouldn't have been so horrified at the thought of becoming a vampire, he would have been delighted with his newfound speed and enhanced vision. He watched his eyes adjust to every minute detail around him as he ran, his dark red pupils growing wide with amazement.
Vampire…vampire…I'm a vampire…The doctor saved me, only to turn me into a monster. I'm a vampire….vampire….
His thoughts were jumbled as he ran, trying to recall some of the blurry memories that he could from where he lived. Part of his mind was busy repeating to itself what it was, while the other half was replaying bits and pieces of what memories he had left. It was incredibly frustrating. Everything looked familiar, but only enough so that he could remember it in general, and nothing important like street names or exact addresses.
Suddenly, he came to a graceful halt as he realized he was now in a busier part of town. Then, he smelled something and his worst fears were realized.
The scene wafted towards him in the darkness, and he began to walk quickly towards whatever was pulling him in. His throat burned in the most agonizing but delicious way as he approached the smell. Then, the sound hit him like a wave crashing onto a rocky beach.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The smells coming off of them in waves was positively astounding; it was paralyzing as it wafted towards him, and he had to focus.
He could see that there were two men, staggering down the sidewalk, clinking their flasks and laughing merrily as they walked. Looking up at the sky, he guessed it was very late at night, possibly just before dawn, as the streets were still coated in darkness. The men staggered in the dim lights from the street, laughing and talking about some form of nonsense.
But he didn't hear any of it.
All he could hear were their beating, pulsing, throbbing hearts, and most importantly, the crimson liquid he knew their hearts were pumping through them. He had to have it.
His mouth watered with a bitter liquid as he stalked after them, his eyes growing wide as his throat throbbed. He tapped the first man on the shoulder, earning a look of surprise from him.
"Well, bit late for you to be out young boy-" he began to slur, but Edward didn't let him finish the thought. He grabbed the man's head, yanking it to the side with a sickening crunch. His friend sank against the closest building, frozen in terror as his companion slumped in the young boy's arms, his crimson eyes glittering.
Edward took a deep breath as his horrified mind looked on. His thirst ruled him now, and nothing else mattered but quenching it. With a grunt, he sank his teeth into the man's still pulsing neck vein, and then it hit him.
The fluid began to seep down his parched throat, coating it delicately as it came. The relief was exquisite. He closed his eyes and began to suck greedily, wanting nothing more than to taste and feel more of it as it flowed wonderfully to put out the fires that had raged there. Again and again he drank, savoring the feeling of the blood as it gushed down his throat and into his stomach, leaving a cool wake of relief and satisfaction as it traveled.
He couldn't hear the horrified gasps of the man's companion. He couldn't feel the weight of the now dead man that he held in his arms. No, the only thing that mattered now was the crimson liquid that gushed past his tongue.
It had all happened in a matter of seconds. When the first man was drained, he shoved him down onto the pavement, reaching for his whimpering friend. He had been able to drain him even faster this time. Yes, it was coming easier now.
He dropped them both in the nearby alley, no longer caring if they were found. The only thing that mattered was that the fire in his body was out – for now.
Looking around, he realized that a few things around him looked familiar. Instinctively, he raised his nose to the air and began to hunt – this time, for his home.
Dawn was breaking by the time he finally found it. He had scoured the streets, feeding three more times as humans had stumbled in his path, but finally, he stood on his front porch. Shame burned though him as he thought about the humans he had effortlessly killed, only further solidifying that what the doctor said was true: he was indeed very dangerous.
He easily broke the brass handle on the door, covering his mouth as the smell of more mouthwatering human blood wafted towards him. He was already so full of shame and regret that he didn't want to take a chance of killing again. Pausing slightly, the door swung open and he was hit with the smell of stagnant air.
The Spanish Flu that had begun wracking the city of Chicago earlier that year had left a nearly paralyzed ghost town in its wake. The entire time he had been sick, he could hear the nurses speaking in hushed voices about the epidemic. He now understood their fear as he looked at their empty house. His mother, father, house maid, even the neighbors…were gone. He winced slightly as he thought about how their bodies were likely piled in one of the wooden carts that he had heard the nurses speak of. There were so many people that had died that the numbers were too staggering to even comprehend.
"Hello?" he called out, although his heightened senses told him that he was clearly alone. No human had been there for months; the air was too old, too still. He walked inside, slamming the door shut behind him. The crystals hanging from the lamps in the hallway tinkled and chimed as the vibration from the slamming door hit them. He squinted, realizing that no lights were on.
I can see clear as day, he thought to himself. He inhaled a breath of air, his throat only burning slightly. No, no humans had been here in a very long time. He began to get a sick feeling in his stomach as he slowly crept though the empty house. Furniture still sat where it belonged, all of it covered in thin white sheets. Lamps were unlit, tables covered in dust, pictures all facing downwards so that they couldn't be seen. Several boxes and bags lined the hallway, untouched and unmoved.
His human memories were dim, and growing even more so by the second, he realized.
But I do know this place…I have been here before, He thought.
Looking around, he found a staircase and darted up it. When at the top, he turned his head left and right, trying to remember. He knew this was his home, but it felt like it had been hundreds of years since he had been there. Frowning again, he made his way down the hall before sniffing the air.
Yes, this is it, his mind told him. He paused at the door, bracing himself. Opening it with a slight creak, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia as his new eyes lay upon his human bedroom. Edward stood there for a moment, completely frozen as his eyes skipped around the room, taking it all in.
His bed, his desk, his closet, his baseball glove and cap…all were covered in dust and just how he had left them… many months before.
The doctor didn't lie…my family is dead and my house is abandoned. No one has been here for months…because they're all gone. There is no one to come back to…
He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar stinging sensation of oncoming tears. Raising his granite hand to his face, he wiped at the dry surface, suddenly perplexed that here was no liquid there. He gasped quietly when he realized that his sobs were now tearless. He sank to his knees in the middle of his bedroom, his fists clutching the few articles of clothing that lay discarded on the red carpet.
He wasn't sure how long he had been there; the hazy sun had risen hours before, but Edward hadn't noticed. He sat on his bedroom floor, completely frozen and unmoving, even when he heard footsteps approaching. His nose immediately recognizing both the footsteps and the mental tone of the young doctor.
I can only hope that the hospital records that they had for him were correct…I think I can smell him near….yes…that is him…oh Edward, you've found your home. But you can never go back again….my dead heart aches for this boy.
He winced at the seemingly private thoughts of the young doctor as he ran into the house to find him.
"Edward," he breathed, ghosting into the room. He crouched down at his side, his sweet breath blowing on him slightly as he exhaled in relief. "I'm so glad I finally found you."
Edward looked up at him blankly, his red eyes glowing. Carlisle dropped to his knees beside him, his own golden eyes dropping to the floor after seeing what Edward had obviously done.
"I see that you've fed," he said somberly. "What did you do with the bodies?" he asked quietly. Edward growled, flying to his feet.
"I drained five humans this morning and discarded their bodies in the alley like they were nothing more than an alley cat!" he spat in the doctor's face, his fists forming claws.
"I killed them like it was nothing…like a vampire would! Like a monster! I killed them and as much as I hated myself while I was doing it….I liked it!" he roared, walking over to his old desk. With one swipe, he wiped all the contents off of it, the knickknacks falling to the floor with a loud crash. He picked up his baseball bat and effortlessly swung it as the large beveled mirror above his dresser with rage. The bat connected with the mirror shards of glass flying everywhere. Each piece that flew by Edward's face allowed his perfect eyes to catch a reflection of his new body, face, and eyes, a bleak reminder of what he had become. His rage only multiplied as he made the bat connect with the wall, again and again.
A hole now gaped through the wall, but he didn't even notice as he attacked the door next. Again and again he pummeled the wooden bat against his wooden door, the shards flying as he swung.
"I'm a monster, do you hear me?" He swung again, this time at the door frame. "A MONSTER!"
With a sickening crash, the door fell to the ground as its frame gave way and both pieces of large wood fell to the floor outside with a loud clatter of wooden shards and dust.
He gripped the bat in his hands, panting with fury at the doctor. The bat groaned and quickly disintegrated in his grasp, falling to the floor. Carlisle stood calmly in the middle of the room, his eyes still glued to the floor.
What have I done to this poor boy? I'm relieved that I have finally found him, but this is not the way I wanted it to be…Lord, I only wanted a companion in this lonely life, and I fear that I have committed a sin by trying to give Edward a second chance…please forgive me….
Edward snorted out loud at hearing Carlisle's private thoughts.
"You pray to God for help as if it will actually happen," he sneered, tossing the wooden shards of the bat out of his hands. He grabbed another fistful of his bronze hair, yanking it in frustration.
He sat down on the bed, his head in his hands, breathing heavily in exasperation and rage.
"I am a deeply religious man, Edward," he replied softly.
God has a plan for all of us…I firmly believe he takes care of me and everyone else who needs it. Please let me help you?
Edward looked up at the doctor as he silently pleaded with him. He glanced around his now destroyed room, laughing sadistically at what remained. There was nothing for him there, he knew that. He also knew that he did not want to live alone, in this abandoned, dilapidated house forever as a damned creature. Looking up, he saw the concerned, young doctor's eyes on him.
He stood, walking to the corner where the contents of his desk lay in a disheveled pile.
He sorted through the rubble for a few moments, sifting through the memories. Grabbing a small satchel, he filled it with a few mementos that he wished to keep. Baseball cards, his glove and cap, a few pictures from his walls, his favorite pen. Carlisle understood what he was doing, and moved to help.
We can make it through this life together, Edward. It won't always be this way, I can promise you that. I live a lonely but satisfying life. I have a very fulfilling career that I love, and someday you can, too, Carlisle replied. Edward snorted as he continued to collect items from his room.
"You live a satisfying life as a vampire?" he sneered, throwing a pocket watch into the bag he held.
Carlisle nodded. "I do….I can't have close friends or stay in one place too long-"
"Why?"
Carlisle's eyes fell. "We don't' age, Edward. You will look like your seventeen-year-old self for the rest of eternity," he said softly.
Edward dropped his eyes to look at himself in the shards of glass that now covered the floor. He caught the reflection of his eyes and winced.
They change with a diet of animal blood…it will take a few months, but they will look somewhat normal again, the doctor reassured him.
"You drink from animals?" Edward asked, walking down the hallway. Carlisle nodded, carefully stepping over the broken door and door frame as he followed the young boy. Edward opened another door, pausing for a moment to look around.
"Yes, I do... I hunt often…it helps me resist humans at work. I can be around human blood after years and years of practice."
Edward winced as he paced around his parents' old room. "You never….slip? You never kill humans anymore?"
Carlisle shook his head, reaching out to softly finger the lace curtains that hung in the windows of the master bedroom. "I have never tasted human blood, Edward," he said. Edward watched in Carlisle's mind as years of torture and abstaining flashed through his thoughts in a jumble of pain and torture. He shook his head, moving to his mother's vanity.
"That looks awful," he muttered, picking up her silver brush set and mirror. He packed them carefully away, moving to her jewelry chest. He felt himself choke up as he laid his eyes on the sparkly trinkets his father had given his mother over the years; each one has a past and a story. His eyes pricked as tears threatened once again.
Edward looked through the jewelry chest, carefully packing up the most important pieces he could find: her diamond earrings, several colored stone necklaces, her set of pearls, her rose gold diamond watch, her diamond tennis bracelet…his mother had quite the collection as a lawyer's wife.
He paused, his eyes scouring over the chest, his hands flying through it in search.
"Where…where is it?" he asked himself, turning things over and moving jewels to the side to search for it.
Edward.
Carlisle silently called to him, Edward whipping his head up. The doctor held two rings in his pale hand, which was now extended towards Edward. His father's gold wedding band and his mother's delicate, sparkly engagement ring glittered at him. Edward looked questioningly at the doctor before striding over to him.
I'm sorry, Edward. I feared that once their bodies left the hospital that…that they might be stolen. I know that you probably wanted them to be buried with your parents, but I couldn't take that risk. I was too afraid that looters would take them from their bodies, and I wanted you to have them instead. I couldn't bear to leave them, and I hope that someday you will want them. I'm sorry, son.
Edward sucked in an emotional breath as he slowly took the two rings from the doctor's grasp, the rings clinking softly as he placed them in a box.
Looking around the room, his mind was made up. No, he certainly did not want to come back here ever again. He would stay with the young doctor.
"You really don't kill humans?" he asked, the faces of those he had murdered flashing through his mind. It made his mouth water just to think about, he realized with a cringe.
"No, Edward, I do not. I never have, and I never will."
"Will you teach me?" he asked softly, looking at the patterned rug that was beneath his feet.
"How to not kill? Of course," Carlisle replied, a smile threatening to appear on his lips. "It will be hard, Edward, but worth it. We can use our abilities and senses to do good. We don't' have to live as monsters, son. You can be good again, I promise."
Edward looked at him as the doctor thought.
He is such a strong boy…I know he can do this. I can see determination in his eyes. It will be hard, but it will be worth it. I can see great things happening for him in this life. I know he will use his gift for good, somehow. Edward can do anything…I'm sure of it. I saw that hope in his determined eyes back in the hospital. There was a reason that I saved this child.
Edward raised his eyes to meet Carlisle's, his ruby eyes glittering in the early morning light that danced across his parent's bedroom.
"You…you have hope for me?" he asked softly. Carlisle stared back at him, his head nodding quickly.
"Yes, Edward. I do. I have hope for you, for me, and for the future. I always have."
Edward thought about his strong answer, and how much he wanted to believe him. He didn't want to walk this earth alone, as a terrible monster, killing at will.
"Then I will go with you. I will not kill anymore….I want to live, Carlisle, really live. If this is how I must do it, then…" He trailed off with a shrug, giving the room one last look.
Carlisle took the heavy satchel full of memories from him, giving him an approving nod.
"You can do this Edward, I know you can. We will do this together, and you won't be alone anymore. I have hope," Carlisle repeated, turning to walk out of the bedroom. Edward heard him go downstairs and pause in the foyer, waiting for him to join him.
He looked around the room one last time before following Carlisle down the steps and out the front door.
"Hold your breath until we get home," Carlisle instructed softly, but sternly. Edward nodded as they stepped outside into the grey daylight, and into their new life. As they walked along the sparse streets towards Carlisle's apartment, Edward wincing and shaking with thirst, he was only calmed by one thought.
He had been given a second chance, and he was going to do whatever he could to make it count.
Well what did you think? I really tried my best to capture how I thought Edward would behave when he woke up and learned that his life that he loved was gone, along with everyone in it. Thoughts?
As soon as I get some feedback I will post Alice! Remember, I am going in order of dates in which they were changed.
Also, once the story is complete, my beta, Rain-It-Shall (who is awesome, btw ) suggestion adding onto the stories that people like the most. So if you like a certain character and would like to see more of their first days/weeks/years, be sure to let me know! This is a very fun story to write, and I would love to continue it!
REVIEW!