Hanna and Edward were in England, the sun long gone and there was a heavy fog on the city. People could barely see three feet in front of them; even Edward couldn't see as much in the heavy, moist air. Hanna knew the city though, it had changed since the last time she had been there, over 120 years ago, but it was the same at the same time, just as elegant and beautiful. Just as dark.
She had once ran into a man who hadn't named himself, but she had found later was "The Whitechapel Murderer", or simply "Jack the Ripper". He didn't kill her though, instead, they talked. Simple things, the weather, the news, and looking back on it, he had hinted at the news of the new murderer in the papers, as if proud of himself for the publicity.
Hanna, shaking herself out of the memory, she captured Edward's arm with hers as they walked, staying close together going to the late-night stores, and just enjoying eachother's company and the silence of the sleeping city. Hanna brought Edward forward, so her arms were fully around his waist and then they were in the Big Ben clock, it was dusty and old in there, the last time anyone had been in the room had been months ago, to check on the huge clock's mechanics, but nothing else. She stepped away, dizzy.
"Are we inside the Big Ben?" Edward asked, looking around and then walking to the huge clock face, it was a window to them, but no one on the outside could see them, like a one-way window.
"Yeah," Hanna said, leaning against the wall. A new memory flashed behind her eyes and she closed them to see it.
Theo stood in front of her, his face was set grimly.
"They want to use us as weapons Hanna! They're going to use us to kill people, to rule the whole community of vampires," he growled and she shook her head.
"Theo, I don't know what's so bad about that. I mean, why not use this power to our advantage?"
She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers. It was pitch black, instead of it's blue-gray color it was now.
"Listen to yourself! They will lock you away and only use you when they need you Hanna! They are not good people!" He screamed at her, trying to get her to see sense. She shook her head.
"Aro would never do something like that. Carlisle wouldn't let them do that," she whispered, refusing to hear what her brother was saying.
"Think what you want Hanna! You're darling Carlisle can't do anything to protect you from the Volturi," Theo hissed, his lips curled in an ugly sneer. Hanna screamed and flew across the room to hit Theo, but he grabbed her arm and threw her into the face of the clock, the glass cracking where her back hit it.
"You dare to attack me? You're own brother? Leave Hanna, I will do this on my own," Theo growled, and turned his back on her and was gone, nothing left of his former presence, except for the pain Hanna felt in her back and arm.
The memory vanished and she was standing beside Edward, her finger tracing the crack that was still there. Edward stared at her. He had seen the memory.
"They had killed him, and Carlisle had done nothing to help. He couldn't do anything against them." She whispered to herself, close to tears at the old memory.
Edward didn't move in to hug her, instead he stayed where he stood. She didn't want to be comforted, she wanted to bask in the cruelty of her memories: they made her into the Hanna she was now.
"We never can do anything against the Volturi. They're practically royalty in our world. They control the vampires in this world. They have agents who make sure that certain clans don't get into trouble," Edward whispered.
"Tanya and Alex watch over your family," Hanna whispered and Edward nodded.
"Yeah, I found that out from Carlisle."
Hanna leaned her forehead against the glass, her eyes trained on the crack. In almost every corner of the world, she could find something that reminded her of Theo, of the person she used to be. They were all painful reminders. Her life was just one big reminder.
"Lets have some fun," Edward smirked and tugged Hanna toward him, twirling her into a dance. A smile tugged at her lips.
"Kay," she whispered and then they were at one of her old houses, in Rome, all the furniture was covered, the cloth moth-eaten, but the whole structure was made of white, cold stone. It hadn't been damaged by time, nor touched by people. No one was able to break into the house either, it was surrounded by a 10-foot wall with 3-foot, sharp spikes on the top. She skipped away from him and tore a sheet from a strange looking device: a record player. She selected a record from a box below it, blew away the dust and then put it on. She skipped back to Edward as Arcangelo Corelli filled the room. They moved in time with the music and she smiled, enjoying herself.
"I met this man, he died soon after wards however, at the age of 60. He made beautiful music," she smirked, and there was another story behind that statement, but she didn't go any further into the...gory details of her past relationships.
Edward smirked.
"A one night stand?" He guessed and she blushed a velvet red.
"Yeah," she trailed off.