I could practically taste the sweet blood of the innocent people. Venom pooled in the back of my throat. I imagined sinking my teeth into their necks, feeling the warmth fill my mouth. Picture a thirsty man that has been stranded on a desert island for weeks without a drop of water. That is how much my throat burned and ached. I wasn't Edward, the good vampire anymore. I was Edward, the bloodthirsty, craving, monster.

It didn't matter anymore. What good did it do to deny my predatory instincts? I had nothing to live for, nothing to be rewarded by. So who was gonna give a damn if I drank some stupid, human blood.? No one.

Wearing the stolen clothes, I stalked the scent of my prey- unsuspecting humans. One of the scents in particular caught my attention. It was floral, and sweet. Like Bella's. But of course it could not match the exact thrill of her scent. I could sit and measly, briefly inhale Bella's scent and I would get drunk on it. This one didn't even start to compare, but it was good enough to catch my attention.

She was reading a light book in her living room, sprawled about the couch. The windows were open, and a thrumming of a fan could be heard in a nearby room. I suppose it was hot to the mortals on a day like today. But it didn't phase me a bit, or slow me down. It was simple, really, all I had to do was waltz through the unlocked door and pounce. Enjoy.

It has been a while since I had to think of these things- tactics. In a way animals were more simpler, not as much obstacles. Of course, obstacles heightened the fun. It was then I stopped dead in my tracks, I was posed in a crouch by the door, waiting to walk through the entry. But the thought hit me, and it hurt.

___________________________________________________________________________________ "She''s gone." those all to simple words had too much meaning in them. Alice and Jasper were together at the airport- the airport where Bella was supposed to be. "We traced her scent into the womens' bathroom. But instead of pursuing, we thought to wait for you."

"She could be dead by now!" how could she wait?! My Bella is in mortal danger- and she decides to wait?!

My world crashed. What would I do? What if she didn't make it? I groaned internally at the stabbing pain that thought held. Being a vampire held one of the great gifts of multi- thinking. I was able to think of her death while processing the route in which I must follow to bring her to me. If she survived. The Volturi. Simple, clear, an explanation. My death.

I let out a furious hiss through my teeth. I felt Carlisle lay a hand on my shoulder, but I was in no condition to be comforted. I ripped out of his grasp and headed for the womens' bathroom, ignoring the screams and protests. Also hearing the purrs of delight- especially ignoring those.

Once exited the bathroom I followed the scent through town. I tried to stay hidden, so I could go at vampire speed. But when there was no shelter, I restrained myself enough to pass for a record holding runner.

It lead to a... ballet studio? Why would James possibly bring her to a ballet studio? Then I caught his thoughts. They disgusted me to the very core of my existence. He thought it would be nice scenery for the destruction of my love. He had tracked down my Bella, in attempts to destroy her for pure pleasure. But if he thought he would succeed he had a another thing coming. That sure to hell thing was me.

I heard her cry out in obvious pain, and... fear. For once, through her very thick skull I adored she was afraid of vampires. Hallelujah! If it had been any other time I would have been smirking with pleasure. Her pain was my pain.

I ran- not caring if a person saw me. Blood curdling screeches erupted. I flung myself at him, I clawed and tore, bit and snapped at anything I could get my hands on. But he wasn't no average vampire- he was a tracker. A tracker had to be ready to spring at it's prey at any given time. They were trained fighters.

I spared a side glance at Bella. She was crumpled on the floor, writhing in plain agony. My breathing was ragged and sharp. But it fueled my anger. I lashed out- willing everything in me to kill this murderer.

In the middle of war I heard Emmet and Jasper burst through the doors. Thank the heavens! They gave me a brief nod and took on James. I headed to my broken Bella. I wanted to commit suicide right then. I had put her through this. I had exposed her to the world of danger. I could have stopped this when it began. But I didn't. Now I had to pay the consequences. So did Bella.

"Carlisle!" I had barely spoken since the airport. My voice sounded foreign, strange. It was scared, worried, hurting, losing something held dear. Her voice rang out then. Frantic, rushed, tormented, my worst nightmare.

He bit her.

___________________________________________________________________________________ I was acting like a tracker. Like a James.

I didn't want this life, it wasn't mine. But it was an upgrade from what was mine. I was greedy.

I silently, and gracefully stalked into my prey's habitat. Aromas knocked the wind out of me. I wasn't used to wanting them, only blocking them out. Old habits filled me and I knew what I had to do.

It was then she noticed me. An angel in her house. A hungry, savage, insane angel. But to humans what difference did that make? None.

She was frozen, and unsure. In a flash I was in front of her, caressing her face, cradled in mine. Her face was a mock of horror. In a quick swipe, I removed the hair resting on her neck. I could see the blood pulsing and hear her heart beating irregular patterns.

"No!...Wh-Wha...Ahhh-" her feeble stumbling was cut of.

I grazed my teeth over her neck, letting the blood slowly flood my mouth and taste buds- enjoying the pleasure. I was in no rush, I didn't care about her pain. I wanted someone else to feel pain- No- I wanted to see someone else on pain. Feel it, hear it, see it, know it was happening to someone else.

What I really desired was to know I wasn't alone. These things brought the monster out in me. I felt free. No rules, no worries, nothing holding me back.

I drained the last ounce of blood. It was weird but familiar, the sense that I was still craving more. But when I saw myself through the reflection the window held- my appetite was no longer an issue.

I saw a man of seventeen. He had dirty, messed up, bronze hair. The clothes he bore were tattered, blood stained, and ripped. Lastly, his eyes- surrounding the black was a rim of red slowly transforming into the normal gold.

A different sensation went through him than he would have thought- satisfaction. He liked the red.

Red was change.