Lunacy

Chapter Two

Ten of Swords

Far away from my tiny world of pain, the real world moved on. My father, Charlie, was tied up at the station looking at a series of deaths that were either the result of a wild animal… or ritual sacrifice. It wasn't every day that a small town cop came across something so gruesome, and Chief Swan wasn't about to sound the alarm and call in the state police unless he was a hundred per cent sure it was a serial killer he was going after.

Small town, dark secret. And we weren't even in Maine.

When my father made it home well after the time he thought it would, he opened the front door to the smell of smoke. On instinct his hand touched the butt of his gun as he darted down the short entry hall and into the kitchen. First he saw the grayish potatoes on the counter, then the charred fish still cooking in the pan. He tossed the pan into the sink – it was a miracle nothing was burning! – and called out my name.

I didn't answer – I couldn't.

Charlie was going to check my room when he spotted my blood on the counter. He followed the drips of it to a smear of brown on the linoleum under the window. Blood.

A lot of blood.

My father called in for backup, and ran shouting through the house.

Funny how I had to move to a small, safe town to be murdered.

O

The time I spent in the fire pit – it was agony – like being roasted on a spit in hell while little devils giggled at your hoarse begging screams. It was the kind of pain that made you beg for death, the sort that made you promise everything, from your virginity to your soul to your first born child if only it would stop. Of course pain can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. You can only bear it and keep on bearing it passed the point of sanity.

I'll spare you further details

O

When the burning began to recede I was overjoyed – and when it was gone I was stunned speechless. I stared at the world open to me and found myself even more easily distracted than usual. Way more distracted than usual. I was caught up in staring at the dust motes swirling through a beam of light. They were golden and even more lovely than the last time I'd spotted them.

"Ms. Swan?"

My head whipped around – the room didn't even blur! – and I saw a tall blonde who could be pushing thirty – if I was generous. It was probably his strangely golden eyes that made him look older than the rest of his body. Subtle ways in which he held himself revealed age too.

"Where am I?"

The memory of pain came shooting back and I winced at the mere thought of it. It was on a whole new level.

"And what happened? Why did… who attacked me?"

My heart should have been beating hard, but it wasn't. I clutched at my chest, trying to feel for a beat. There wasn't one. It felt like there was a growing pit of ice in my stomach. It felt like I was choking on a throat full of coal. I made a strange gagging sound and wanted to hyperventilate.

No. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. not possible. Not fucking possible, Bells! This isn't a comic book or a movie! People don't just walk around without a heart beat! Magic doesn't exist, you've accepted and gone through that phase!

"Ms. Swan?"

I turned to look back at the man in wide eyed horror while my traitorous brain flipped through every possible monster or magic that could cause a being to function without a heartbeat.

Zombie – no I'm capable of rational thought – werewolf – obviously not. Frankenstein is another form of zombie and I'm pretty sure he had a heart beat in Marie Shelley's book. Homunculus? Nope. Nothing to do with alchemy. Lich? Well screw that I'm not a sorcerer! Maybe someone here is a necromancer? Who knows. Okay. Vampire? Well, it looks to be day time and I'm not feeling compelled to sleep, theres a mirror over there. Clearly I have a reflection. Okay. What about Fae? DID I PISS OFF A FAERIE? Oh good god. Wait! Maybe I am a zombie, but a mutated one who can think!

"I blame Cthullu," I blurted out.

The man blinked, looking rather surprised. "What?"

"For all this –" I gestured at my body. "I went through every supernatural creature I can think of and I'm not rotting so it can't be zombie, even a mutated rage virus type zombie thing, so I blame the elder gods."

I narrowed my eyes up at the ceiling. The bastards.

"Ah," the man let out a startled laugh. "Actually, Ms. Swan you are a Vampire."

I stared at him and noted how, while the icy feeling had vanished, the burning coals in my throat had not. I also made not of the fact that I had neither shared blood nor been bitten during the full moon. So clearly some of the vampire mythos was utterly in the wrong. Oh yeah. I also wasn't sleeping and most books made it out so the vampire bite was an orgasmic thing. Oh what a field day Freud would have.

"Oh. That explains the burning in my throat."

I realized I was still lying down (on a rather nice sofa actually) and sat up fully. "I think I need a crash course in what real vampires do."

"Well, first you may want to hunt. You must be dying of thirst."

The feeling in my throat flared up so much it seemed to reach my nose. It was similar to the sensation of getting chlorine water in your nose, but about twenty times stronger. "Can I die of thirst?"

"Well no," the man said. "I don't think so anyway. I went a very long time without drinking when I was first… born and I was far from dying. Albeit extremely uncomfortable and probably not completely sane."

I nodded, filing that tidbit away for future reference when something else struck me.

"This isn't going to be like Interview with a Vampire, right? Because I'm probably gonna pull a Luis and just 'eat' rats."

The thought of killing anyone made my stomach turn. I had way too much… well, something to ever be able to kill and eat something sentient. Hannibal Lecter I was not.

The man smiled at me, and it seemed very pleased with my announcement. "That sentiment will help you greatly when you start to hunt. My family do not hunt and kill people. We drink the blood of animals."

"Then who attacked me?"

The man looked pained, and I was starting to wish I had a name to call him by.

"My... son. Edward. He attacked you."

I tilted my head to the side, curiously. "He stopped before he killed me though."

There wasn't anything I could do about the whole vampire thing now. And – wait. "Edward as in the Edward in biology?"

I realized he probably wouldn't know what I meant.

"Yes."

Okay, apparently he did.

"You were his singer. You see all blood smells different to us. I'm not exactly sure why that is, but is the case. Some blood, however, is far more tempting than any other, sometimes for only one vampire, sometimes to vampires as a whole. It's very rare for this to happen and it was my Son's first experience with a 'singer'."

I nodded. "So its kinda like food preference on a more… addictive level?"

"Yes, and to be honest, Ms. Swan I'm shocked your able to talk to me the way you are. You shouldn't be this rational."

"Maybe I'm in shock. To be honest I'm still waiting for the punch line. Or maybe to wake up in the hospital. Or heaven. Part of me is thinking I already am in heaven, but it's 'What Dreams May Come' style. Oh! Right. What's your name? I keep referring to you as 'the man' in my head and, well, you seem to know my name."

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

"Oh. Well, now that I think about it you do kinda look like a doctor to me."

Dr. Cullen smiled. "Thank you Ms. Swan."

"Bella, please. Um. So. Are you going to kick me out or let me stay?"

I was suddenly feeling a bit of fear. I really, really didn't want to be on my own, especially now that I'd made a whole species jump!

"You are free to leave if you wish, but I would be happy to welcome you to the family."

Before I had the chance to answer, the doors to the room I was in opened and the group of clothing catalogue people from the cafeteria came flooding in.

….

AN

And this is chapter two! I hope any (presumed) readers liked this. I'm mostly writing this for my own enjoyment, I'll admit, however I really would appreciate reviews. They are kind of the point of posting chapters online.