Sorry it took so long to update again! I've been so, so busy! But I'll upload Chapter 4 ASAP. Please, RxR...I like to hear your thoughts on the story, and things good and bad about it! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own the following.
Chapter 3
The Italian landscape stretched before me, washed in pale moonlight. There was only a sliver tonight...dark and foreboding, a new moon. I shivered, though I felt no cold. It seemed ironic now, a new chapter to life, and new beginning, if that's how I were to look at this. The clouds passed over the sky, and I ran with all my strength to the gates of Volterra.
What was once a happy, golden city was now cold and deadly, welcoming me with open, creaking arms. My soft tread made no noise throughout the desolate streets; I went quieter than the breeze that disturbed the chilled night. There was no easy way to do this; the only thing I could consider was simple improvisation. A question here, small bits of reasoning there—they just couldn't know why. If they knew what...Bella...had been to me, what she had known, my life would not be the only one to forfeit.
Silvery beams of night streamed through the cracked walls, but the beauty was wasted...all was lost. Still, I ran to the one thing that would give me solace—death. I was almost there, one barren alley or two to go, and I would be free of this...this madness that my existence had become. I went as fast as allowed, searching for death's comforting arms.
Wrought iron gates leading to them appeared as though they were mist, blending in with the night; how appropriate. My body froze, and became wary. I suddenly was unsure of myself, remembering how it had pained her to be forced even with a notion of my death. Should I still cause her pain like this when she was safely out of my grasp? My mouth turned down in a rueful grimace. A small voice in my head let out a humorless chuckle.
She's not safe. She's dead.
I reached for the gate and thrust it open, already running through the doors when it shut behind me.
Bella beamed angelically behind my lids.
I turned down hall after hall, ignoring the pleasantly displayed artwork, the scents, and all other distractions easily put out of my mind. My mind raced through my reasons, my argument. There was no doubt in me now, no scraps of masochism remaining. This suffering would be over, and then I could go with her into life after death, if I was allowed there. The world glared at me balefully through the windows, waiting for my departure.
And then there was light.
Skidding to stop, I looked around. I was in some sort of lobby, bedecked to the hilt in amiable, plush décor. I frowned and started forward again.
"Hello! How may I help you Signor...?"
I looked up, and attempted to appear humane.
Sitting at a desk was a human. Pretty, I suppose, with a heavy Italian accent. But she was a human.
"Signor?"
I blinked.
"I'm sorry. I must be in the wrong place." My voice cracked, and came out in a rush. I didn't sound sorry—I sounded like a man who had seen too much of what the world could do.
Hastening toward the elevator, I growled a stream of profanities under my breath, clenching my hands. I growled quietly.
What now? Wrong place...wrong place...wrong place.
Footsteps ringing with authority echoed through the corridor, and someone cleared their throat beside desk.
"I think not."
I turned and scowled.
Guard.
"Demetri." It came out in a snarl.
He sighed. "What's your name?" Obviously bored.
"Edward Cullen."
Demetri's eyes widened slightly, and he froze. Swiftly, he regained some amount of control over himself and beckoned me forward.
"Aro will want to see you at once." He nodded at the woman, "Gianna, let nobody in until we have returned."
"Si, signor Demetri." Blood boiled beneath her cheeks, and she blinked fervently.
"Come." He nodded toward my rigid form.
The castle must have been large, but it took us seconds to reach the Volturi's gathering room. I breathed in tensely through my nose—musty with the distinct scent of blood. Venom flowed into my baked mouth. My hands were in fists at my sides, and I stopped, taut, in front of the wooden doors.
Demetri motioned to the handle.
I glared at him for one long moment, and then opened the door slowly. Slow angst boiled up inside of me as a wave of stagnated air flowed through the passage.