AN: Hey! My kick is still going strong, I know. It's pathetic. :P Anyway, I'm trying to get a sense of playfulness and bonding in here, but I also wanted to work in our upcoming action and introduce another favorite character of mine! She rocks! Elle fans go zap something! :D
So, yah. Also, wanna say I finally managed to get FF to work and looked up Bella Peter stories. The first one to catch my eye was the only one I read so far. AND OH MY GOD IT'S PURE FANTABULOUSNESS. AND I JUST FOUND OUT THAT'S A WORD BECAUSE SPELL CHECK ISN'T FREAKING OUT! YAY!
So…GO READ 'RESURGENCE' IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY! IT WILL PUT THIS STORY IN THE DUST WITH ITS AWESOMETASTICNESS!
Ahem…now after shouting at you, I will allow you to go ahead and read on. I hope I did well with the dialogue and friend parts! Please tell me, because I'm a way better angst writer in my opinion, and friendly fluff is definitely not my thing…at least I don't think so, but opinions are much appreciated!
Also, to sally94: I'm sorry to be cryptic but I promise that all of the questions you have asked are amazingly spot on as far as the answers I'll give! Though I can't guarantee you'll get them right away, but soon! And thanks very much for each review you've given!
And now, without further adieu, the story! Sorry for constantly ranting and not allowing you to read ever, I know, I'm a terrible author! D:
Oh, shoot, before you go, I do wanna address my reviewers so far! lady blood bath, sally94, Dark Alana, Twilight Gleek, and cosmoGirl666! Not only do I adore your pennames, but your reviews make me so happy! Thanks bunches, really, you're probably the biggest reason my updates are too fast—your confidence is astounding! Reviewers like you make the world go round! You get my homemade swirly cookies!
Alright, I'm officially done now. :)
Immolation Chapter 5: Vampires?
When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was something warm and semi-heavy on my chest. And though that was strange, what really stunned me was that I felt well-rested, and didn't recall a single nightmare! I snapped my eyes open, hoping to figure out the reason, and realized I wasn't in my room as I thought I would be. I looked around and recognition dawned—I was in Claire's room, sleeping over at her and Peter's house.
That was when I decided to investigate the mystery of the thing that was on my chest. I looked down and saw a head of blonde hair, arms splayed limply as Claire lay on my me, fast asleep. I sighed, not wanting to wake her—as it was the weekend, she had just moved, and she was letting me stay at her house, so I wasn't about to be rude.
So I lie there for hours, watching the sun make a rare appearance at around nine in the morning. It, luckily enough, shone on her tanned face, and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked confused as she gazed at me, but didn't move from her spot.
"Bella? Whatcha doin'?" she drawled slowly.
I smiled nervously. "I was actually waiting for you to wake up…so I could…well…" I gestured, and that was when she seemed to notice she was lying on me. She sat up quickly.
"Sorry 'bout that." She scratched her head and looked dazedly around her room, as if trying to find something. "Wuh time's it?" she slurred, still half asleep.
"About nine," I replied, sitting up and stretching. I looked down at the faded shirt she had given me just in time for my stomach to growl.
She looked over at the noise, and giggled, rubbing her eyes and seeming more alert. "I have some cereal, or eggs and bacon, but I'm not really much of a cook…"
I got up, my stomach rumbling again. "I love to cook, so if you want me to—" She interrupted me, her brow furrowed.
"You're my guest! I couldn't make you do that!" she protested, but I began to walk toward the door.
"I want to though Claire—like I said, I like to cook, do it all the time, and it's the least I could do for you and Peter." She sighed and waved her hand, dismissing me, saying she'd be out in a moment. With that, I pulled my hair into the ponytail holder I kept conveniently on my wrist and made my way into their kitchen.
It felt weird, cooking in someone else's home, but when Claire came out and reassured me that it was alright and she really didn't mind—the chance to not have to cook was fine by her—I grabbed their eggs and bacon and began to fry it all up. I sprinkled it all with a few select spices and poured glasses of milk after Claire set the table.
She sighed happily, gazing at the food as I carried three made plates into the dining room—and Peter, right on time, sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. They widened at the sight of the meal. "Food. Wow," he said quietly.
Claire laughed. "Thanks to our new and improved maid. I swear, Bella, it's like you're not even a guest!" She threw me a half-hearted glare, but didn't seem to put much effort into it. I gestured to the plates, ignoring her comment.
"Yeah, I just used what you had available. I hope you don't mind…" I trailed off, looking up at Peter and expecting him to be mad or something. But he shook his head, still looking stunned.
"That's alright. Claire and I aren't really five-star chefs and…wow, a home-cooked meal. You're awesome." He sat down and dug in next to Claire, who had already inhaled half her eggs. I blushed at the compliment, but was pleased that he was not only not mad, but seemed to enjoy the food.
"So, Bella," Claire began. I looked up at her, chewing thoughtfully on a crispy piece of bacon. "I seem to recall you promising to take me shopping." She grinned, but I winced and bit my lip.
"Actually, being that I'm not a major fan of shopping," they both looked startled. "I seem to recall promising to show you some stores you may like in Port Angeles, while simultaneously picking up some new books for myself." I smiled smugly; certain that was the original agreement.
"Alright," she conceded after a moment of silence. "Then we take Peter with us." His eyes widened as he looked over at her.
"Me? Why?"
She smirked at him. "Well, Bella here needs to pick up some books…so we get her to show us around, and then you help me shop." He grimaced and shot me a half-glare.
"Thanks, Bella. You're officially not getting paid for the handiwork." We all laughed, but I replied simply with that anything was better than shopping.
Claire set me up with some light jeans and a baggy shirt, which was perfectly fine with me. We were out the door by noon, after I insisted on washing the dishes—after all, I had dirtied them. They relented after a useless argument, telling me I had done enough. But after that, it was pretty smooth sailing—I pointed out the mall, the salon, and a few other shops Alice had forced me into, and then they dropped me off at a bookstore right down the road, promising to be back within the hour.
I sighed, watching them turn into the mall's parking lot down a few blocks, before heading into the shop.
III
Elle looked disinterestedly at the large crater in the clearing, the Haitian bending down near it to examine the thing more closely. She sighed and turned around, looking into the trees with narrowed eyes. Right now, boredom and uneasiness were warring in her mind. Staring at nothing more than a hole for at least an hour didn't constitute as much fun to her. And not only that, but for the last thirty minutes she had felt uneasy, which was steadily growing to discomfort. She just felt like something was watching her.
She tore her gaze from the dark forest and rested it again on the hole, noticing that absolutely nothing had changed since when they had first gotten here. And yet this imbecile she was with seemed certain that he would figure out something—what his ultimate goal here was, she had no clue—if he just looked at it from every angle possible.
After five more minutes, he stood up and brushed off the knees of his jeans, shaking his head and shrugging. She sighed again. "Well, this is obviously where he landed. If that's all you were out to find, I could have saved you all the trouble," she grumbled at him, but didn't get a response. She rolled her eyes and glanced back at the spot where she was sure there was something watching her. As an agent, her senses were sharp—she was positive this uneasy feeling wasn't just stemming from nothing.
And then, everything happened in slow motion.
Something—someone—jumped out of the trees toward the Haitian, landing inches from him. His eyes were focused on his throat, and his lips pulled back over his teeth. Elle immediately reacted without sending her body the direct command—she just stuck her hand out and zapped him.
The man stumbled back with a yelp of pain, turning his pitch black eyes on her. Electricity danced on her fingertips and hands as she looked at him, wide-eyed. If she hadn't just lost her mind—which she hadn't, mind you—she could have sworn hat guy was about to bite the Haitian.
"Who are you?" she ground out, looking at him threateningly. His eyes widened, glistening from the light her electricity created. She mused briefly on how strange it was her powers were working right now, but figured that the Haitian was too far from her to affect her.
"What are you?" he countered. She detected a faint French accent under the words, but didn't like how he said them—his voice was full of awe and skepticism, but there was a tinge of a deep, rumbling noise…as if he had growled at her just now.
She scowled and shot him with electricity again. "Answer the question!" she barked.
He howled with pain, before falling to the ground and looking up at her, his eyes looking saner—although, disturbingly, they were now a bright red ruby hue. "I…I can't tell you. You're a human!"
"No duh," she muttered to herself, before sending an extra jolt of electricity to him, holding it longer—his clothes began to burn and curl, but before they could actually catch fire, she stopped. She would get her answers.
"Who are you?" she yelled again, looking at him angrily.
"Okay, okay," he whimpered. She noticed that where his hands had rested, there was simply a pile of ash—and something smelt like a sweet, bitter perfume. Had she burnt his hands to ash? She was astonished, but didn't let it show.
"My…my name is Laurent," he stuttered. "I'm a vampire, here to find a human." Her ears perked as she processed this. He claimed to be a vampire? That was absolute bullshit, and yet she couldn't say anything, being that here she was, zapping him repeatedly with lightning. Not only that, but humans didn't immediately turn to ash when burned.
She bit the inside of her cheek briefly before deciding she would believe him. She would ask Daddy about it later and see what he said.
"Who are you hunting?" she asked. She zapped him again, making sure he'd tell her. He hissed.
"Isabella Swan." She started at the unfamiliar name, but filed it away into her memory. She had almost expected him to say Peter Petrelli—why was beyond her, but she had. Though here was another interesting subject. She might even make her father extremely happy if she brought in this Isabella Swan.
She narrowed her eyes. "Describe the girl, and I'll let you go." He nodded vehemently.
"She's short, with pale skin and brown hair and eyes. It's a small town—I'm sure you can find her!" he rushed. She smiled.
"Thank you for your time," she said sweetly, before shooting him again—she continued, not relenting until she was sure he was on fire, and even then. She waited patiently until he was reduced to a pile of smoking ash, and the sweetly bitter smell permeated the air around them.
A slow, malicious smile worked its way onto her face. Without a word to the stunned Haitian, she turned on her heel and began to strut through the trees, back the way they had originally come. She stopped, looking over her shoulder at the pile of ash that was left of the 'vampire'.
"Daddy will be quite pleased."
III
I looked up from the book I was reading, out the window to see Peter's car, with him honking the horn. Claire waved to me from the passenger side, and I rushed with my bag of goods out the door, glancing back over my shoulder to thank the lady I had bought them from.
"Good news," she said. "They had a sale and the perfect dress! I've gotta show you it, Bella, you'll die with envy." I rolled my eyes at her, but laughed.
"We'll see." I buckled my seatbelt quickly, leaning back in the seat. "So, did you guys have fun?"
Claire nodded, blonde curls bouncing as she turned to look back at me. "Loads of it. Well, I did. I don't think Peter was too thrilled. But he did chat it up with this really cute store clerk." She snickered and turned to look at Peter. He kept his eyes on the road.
"Well it would be rude to completely ignore her—not to mention I was worried she would start stripping or something." I laughed probably too loudly, but I had seen women get that desperate, and could only imagine having someone all over me when I was simply trying to go about my business.
Claire laughed too, before turning back to me. "So anyway, we decided we'd find a good place to stop and grab a bite. Then what do you think of a movie or something?" She looked overly eager.
I furrowed my brows at her, crossing my arms. "Didn't you say something about lying low?"
She shrugged noncommittally, "Lying low doesn't mean 'have no life'. As long as we don't draw attention to ourselves. Besides, my dad overloaded us with money and got Peter a steady, good-paying job. Seriously, my father has some awesome connections…but anyway, we need to do something with it all before we leave, right?" I felt my face pale.
Although it was probably expected, I hadn't even thought about even entertaining the idea that Claire and Peter might have to leave. The thought seemed horrifying, even though I barely knew them. Claire's arrival and consequent friendship had woken me up from the trance I had been slipping into, and having her leave would most likely stick me right back in that place—if not make the situation worse.
I swallowed a thick lump that had risen to my throat, opting to simply not think about it. Maybe things would change—or maybe they'd leave after I was healed enough to stand on my own. Even though I had—quite literally—only met her yesterday, Claire had become a crutch of sorts. Her acceptance and bright nature was something that had seemed to seep into me—and hanging out with things that weren't completely human seemed to be where I fit. Our situation just worked.
I sighed, feeling pathetic for my sudden dependency on someone I barely knew, and yet what was done was done. It wasn't like I could go back in time and stop myself from doing it—and if I had said ability, I would really stop myself from ever leaving Arizona, and skip the heartbreak and supernatural altogether.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, looking out the window. But Claire's hand appeared, snapping in front of my face. I tuned into what she was saying. "…Earth to Bella, anyone home?"
"What?" I asked slowly.
"I asked if that sounds good? Lunch then movie?"
I nodded. "Sounds great." And then proceeded to stare out the window. I felt their eyes on me, but ignored it as I sunk back into my thoughts.
I wasn't sure if I could take Claire leaving. She was the person who had snapped me from the rut I was stuck in—although it was unintentional on her part, I still owed that to her. Finding out what she and Peter were and could do had distracted me from those memories that I had buried in the back of my mind. And now, their friendship—or at least Claire's, as I still wasn't 100 percent sure about Peter—was all I had left to tie me to the world. Sure there was Charlie, but it wasn't the same. He simply lacked the empathy and ability to keep me alive.
Abruptly, my door was pulled open. Claire stood, waiting for me to get out. I glanced around as I unbuckled my seatbelt to see a small café I didn't recognize. I shrugged and followed her as she made her way to the door, which Peter held open for the both of us. I thanked him quietly, my mood still down from my thoughts.
We were sat at a small table, and I looked out the large window past the glowing open sign, just staring into the sky and hoping I'd see some kind of answer in the clouds. And yet it didn't come. Claire looked at me worriedly, and I wasn't able to see Peter's expression.
Finally, there was a hand on mine. I followed the dainty arm up to see Claire's light eyes, confused as she looked at me. "Bella? You haven't said a word since we got here, and it's been like ten straight minutes without so much as a blink. You okay?"
I fumbled for an excuse, before looking out the window and seeing the bookstore just down the street. That night…so long ago…the darkness and the laughing, drunken man came flooding back to me, and I shivered, but also found it as a reasonable excuse.
"Yeah," I whispered, not looking at her, hoping she wouldn't see that I was hiding the real reason away from her. "It's just that a while ago I had a run in with…some men…in the alley by that bookstore…" She gasped and her hand tightened on mine—I saw Peter straighten in his chair.
"They didn't get to actually…" I shivered, remembering the look in their eyes. "It still just worries me sometimes." It wasn't a complete lie, thankfully. There were nights when it was dark and wet that I remembered their loud voices and beer-stained breath. And my hair would still stand on end.
In fact, I hadn't told anyone before, not even him, how it had affected me…but I was jumpy for a whole week afterward, as if I expected them to come back after me, even though I knew they wouldn't.
But I pushed it away, as I had done so many times, even if it was to just make sure He didn't see the nearly-panicked look in my eyes. I bit my lip and looked up at Claire, who was staring at me sympathetically. Her thumb brushed up and down my palm for a second before she let go of my hand.
"I'm so sorry," Peter said quietly. "I wouldn't have taken you there if I had known…" I waved his apology off quickly.
"It doesn't matter. They didn't get to…and I barely think of it anymore. I actually wasn't affected as badly as I probably should have been, so really, it's nothing." Nothing compared to the thought of you leaving, taking Claire and never speaking to me again…I couldn't deal with you ripping my best friend away…curse me and my dependency…
I cleared my throat, and thankfully, the waitress arrived at the table. We ate, idly chatting and occasionally teasing Peter about the cashier that had apparently 'practically offered herself to him on a silver platter'. I was able to forget my worries and slip into normal conversation happily.
When we were done, we all went up to the register to pay. Peter tried to pay for all of the bill, but I protested. He simply shook his head and went to hand the hostess the money—but I elbowed him in the side and tried to push him away. He didn't seem to expect that and stumbled, so I had enough time to fumble out ten dollars, about half the bill, and was about to hand it to her when he gently pushed my arm away, stuffing my hand back into my pocket and handing the lady the whole twenty. But I ducked under his arm and snatched it from her, giving her the ten.
"Please don't let him take the whole bill," I panted. She smiled, glanced between us, and nodded. I wiggled out from under his arm and walked over to Claire, who had a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing. I huffed, rolled my eyes, and slapped the twenty in her hand.
Peter turned around after he had given the woman the rest, and shot me an exasperated glance, before holding open the door for Claire and I. We made it out to the car and Claire immediately burst into laughter.
"Wow…Bella, only you…could possibly…rival Peter's stubbornness…" she ground out between giggles. I chuckled faintly.
"I just don't like other people paying for me." I shot Peter a glance through the rear-view mirror, and he rolled his eyes.
I directed them to a movie theater on the other side of town, but that was the only conversation the whole car ride. As we began to make our way to the outskirts, I could have sworn I saw a small flash of color in the forests…but I was probably wrong.
AN: So yeah, I don't think it's too OOC for Bella to already be attached to Claire—after all, it took her all of what, seven seconds to fall for Edward? I hate him, I truly do, to be honest. He's just so…him-like that it irks me. Gah.
But I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Over and out! :D