Sorry it took forever to get this up. I am a rather spastic writer and if I'm not in the mood to write, everything just sounds really bad. I felt that I needed to post again though, so this is what I came up with. And I own nothing Twilight related.

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I stared in horror as they gazed back at me and I automatically sank into a defensive stance as one of them made to move forward. As soon as I moved, I realized I had made a mistake. All six of them reacted to my movement and mirrored my posture, a few snarling in anger. There was no way I could fight all six at once so I cautiously relaxed my pose, alert for any signs of attack. I had no idea what my next move should be. I still feared death and what would happen to me in that event, so though I knew these creatures should not exist, I also knew that if I made to attack, I would not survive the fight. I probably should have killed them during the change when they begged me to, but instead I had hoped that maybe they might recover.

Not only had I become a monster myself, now I was a creator of monsters, unleashing these horrors on the unsuspecting world. These things were once men, flesh and blood like the rest of their race. Now they were bringers of death, disguised as angels. My venom had worked through their bodies, changing them into something like me. Cold, white, hard. I knew without even having to test it that their strength was immense. Nothing in this world could compete.

Even as these thoughts ran through my head in less than a second, something happened. Almost before I even felt the first currents of air flowing around me, I knew what would happen. As the wind blew stronger, it brought with it the sharp, ……, smell of goats and that other irresistibly delicious scent of human blood. Six heads turned into the wind and completely forgetting my presence, they were gone. All I could do was follow and hope for an opportunity to interfere.

We reached the small village in a very short time and I watched in dismay as the scene unfolded before me. One of my creations would stalk up to the door of a hut and spring inside. Screams would erupt, soon waking all the rest of the villagers. One by one, the screams ceased inside the huts and the thing would come back out, clothing torn and blood spattered. Everything around me slowed down as I looked around, surveying the damage. Out of one of the doorways on my left, I saw a small child dart into the street, tears streaming down his small, brown, dirt-streaked face. As he ran, he looked behind him and his frightened eyes met my gaze. As soon as our eyes met, all my senses zeroed in on this child. As I stared, his warm brown eyes changed. For an instant, they became colorless, flat and glassy. The same eyes that had stared blankly out at me in another time and place. The same eyes that I had not been able to look at later, because I already knew what they looked like. I blinked and the rich brown returned.

Seconds later, the boy was followed by a figure looking like an avenging angel, only there was nothing to avenge. These people had done nothing wrong. Their only crime was in living where they did. What purpose did this serve, to have creatures of such destruction on earth? If God had been so intent on destroying His creation, certainly there were much more efficient ways of doing so.

I watched the angel-like figure tense to spring and without realizing it, I was on top of him, clawing at his face. He had turned halfway around when he sensed the danger but was not prepared for an attacker that could match his strength. Roaring in anger, he gripped one of my arms and attempted to throw me off. His effort was partially successful when, in his enormous strength, he wrenched my arm completely off. I could hear myself screeching in pain, but in spite of that, I was still able to process the curious sensation that followed. I could feel the pain of where it was severed, but I could also still feel my arm where it lay, some ten feet away. I could even move the fingers on it. While I was processing all of this, I had grabbed hold of my opponent's head and with a mighty heave it was severed from the rest of the body. Even with that, the body still fought on, but the attack blind and without direction. Because of this, I was quite easily able to dismember the rest of the body. I knew I would have to burn the body in order to truly destroy this being, for I remembered the curse. …Fire will bring your ruin.

Looking around, I could see the village was ruined. Huts were destroyed, tools smashed, fires scattered and raging out of control. No living humans could be seen. I watched as the last of my creations gave a fleeting look around and melted into the night without a backward glance.

Before I finished with my adversary, I located my missing arm. I was not exactly sure how to proceed so I picked the limb up and tried to fit it back into its original position. Twisting it with a sound like grating steel, it locked into place and I could feel the rock-like flesh knit itself back together until my body was whole again.

That finished, I picked up the pieces of the one creature I was able to kill and took them to one of the burning huts to throw in the flames. As I carried the last few pieces over, I saw a small broken body lying next to a stack of wood. The clothes were torn and bloodied, but the face was streaked with dirt. His eyes were no longer fearful, but nor were they anything else. Void of life and animation forever.

I felt again the vast emptiness inside of me. I stared into the flames, feeling the scorching heat on my face. It would be so easy. Probably painful, but that would be over fairly quickly. It wasn't that pain I was worried about. Could anything really be worse than the pain I felt now? Could the world possibly be better off with a creature like me in it? Would it not be better if my existence was erased? I would be missed by no one. If the humans actually knew that I existed, they would probably rejoice in my destruction. Even as these thoughts formed, scenes from the attack flashed through my mind and I knew I could not just give up. It was my fault this had happened. It was my responsibility to prevent as much destruction as possible. I turned away from the flames and walked away. I would find a way to beat this. There had to be a way for me not to be a monster. There had to be.

My first experiment was a dismal failure, but I was strong. I could carry on. There must be a solution.

I do not know how long I sat on the edge of the former village, trying to come up with ideas. Faint echoes stirred in my memory, and though I remembered where they were from, I could make no sense out of them. Still, I knew that somehow this was the key.

you can choose.

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I'll try to be more consistent with my postings, but no guarantee…