A/n: hey thanks for the reviews and such. Really appreciate it *smiles*

Here is the second chapter. Forgot to mention, there will be some descriptions of horror and violence within my story but well it's about vampires so it goes hand in hand.

Hope you like :)

Out of the Night

Chapter 2: Skills Long Forgotten

"Carlisle?"

Esme's voice came with tentative, quiet knocks through the door. He didn't answer her; he simply stared out of the window at the figures training in the garden.

A waste of precious time.

The door opened and she stepped into the room. He turned in his swivel chair and looked at her questioningly. She stood uncomfortably noticing the mess his office had become. Books everywhere, old paintings, old records were strewn everywhere. Fantasia on a Theme echoed around the room from the record player. What was most disturbing for Esme was Carlisle's face. It bore an ashen expression, everything about him seemed defeated.

"Sorry for just bursting in but it's been three days. Your family need you. Your absence is terrifying everyone and its really annoying Edward." She said quietly as he turned back to the window. "Please come down and help us understand why you're so afraid!"

"No, I can't. It's nothing anyone will believe." He muttered. "It's pointless trying to explain. There is no way of escaping it."

"fine." She said sternly and exited the room, slamming the door behind her. When she turned to go downstairs, Renesmee was sitting on the floor, fear in her eyes.

"Why won't he help us?" she whispered.

Esme shrugged her shoulders and took Nessie's hand, pulling her to her feet then guiding her downstairs. They stood at the window watching everyone fighting, thinking about what could have possibly spooked Carlisle so much.

Outside, Edward fought as hard as he could but he kept getting distracted by the figure at the upstairs window. His lack of concentration was showing and Emmett took the opportunity to make him realise it. When he noticed his eyes flick very slightly to the side, he kicked him square in the chest, sending Edward back about 30ft. When he landed on his back, he let out a massive roar of frustration and jumped back to his feet. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched as he ran towards the house, and then they all followed.

Edward flew up the stairs and kicked down Carlisle's door, knocking the record player to the ground. Carlisle stood up and turned so that he and Edward were face to face.

"Why are you hiding up here?!" Edward demanded to know. "Do you not care about what'll happen to her?"

"Of course I do," Carlisle growled back, "but I won't waste my time fighting you, you're nowhere near strong enough."

Edward grabbed him and threw him against the wall.

"I'm not strong enough? How are we supposed to know if you don't fight?"

"No, Edward, you're not strong enough," Carlisle threw him against the desk, "and you won't ever be strong enough!"

"How are we supposed to know that?" Carlisle spun round to see Alice at his door with everyone behind him; she was speaking not angrily but pleadingly. "You haven't told us anything about her or what she can do!"

"There's no point in telling you, you'll find out anyway." He said sadly.

"So you plan to send us into a fight and not warn us what to expect?" Edward growled.

"It was never my idea to fight. That was your master plan."

"At least I have a plan! I'm not the guy moping around in his office feeling sorry for himself. You're a damn coward Carlisle!" Edward shouted. Carlisle turned to face him slowly, anger burning in his eyes. He walked towards the window and picked a piece of paper from off the floor. It was big and when he turned back, he was staring at it with the ashen expression. He glanced up at Alice.

"This is her, this is the girl you seen?" He handed her the paper and she ran her eyes over it, her expression turning to one of horror. She mutely nodded. Bella looked at it over her shoulder and she cursed quietly.

"Look at the painting Edward. The man who painted it was a human, the only human who witnessed the scene, and when she found out about it... she hunted him down and publicly tore him limb from limb."

Edward took the painting quietly. Then gasped when he seen what it portrayed.

The girl, Luciana, was standing with her back to a field of corpses, blood running down her front, her hair matted with it, her eyes a shining scarlet. In front of her, were The Volturi. Aro was shaking her hand and they were all smiling. The scrawled writing at the bottom said:

Vampyr Initiation: Where the Beauty slays the Thousand

"There are more paintings Edward," Carlisle whispered "In this one, she kills an actual vampire in the same way the Volturi do." He tossed a painting at him. "She was the esteemed vampire, the strongest, ten times stronger than Alec and Jane. And she is the most bloodthirsty, most violent vampire I have ever met. That first picture was by a human artist. The rest were painted by an artist who was paid to paint them whenever she wanted or whenever she was out to kill. This is what we're dealing with."

He had not told them everything. There was more shocking things than her bloodlust but they could be told once this information had been absorbed.

"Carlisle," Edward muttered still looking at the picture "what do we do? What about the wolves? Would they be a good help? You know with the werewolf vampire thing-?"

"No," he shook his head, "she has torn apart a werewolf before, for fun."

"Then what?! Tell us!" Bella cried out pulling her daughter to her and gripping her tight.

"We run." Carlisle said simply. "it may be cowardly and it's definitely not a long term plan but for now, it's all we have."

"Where will we go?" Nessie whispered.

"Italy." Carlisle nodded.

"You are kidding me!" Rosalie exclaimed.

"It's the one place she'll never go. She won't be a prisoner again." He said. "We won't go close to Volterra, but if they get wind of us in Italy, they will come to see us. But that's the least of our worries. Start packing the cars, I'll book the flights. Be ready in two hours!"

Everyone started sprinting about except Edward who put his hand on Carlisle's shoulder.

"Will this work?"

"I hope so Edward. If it doesn't, then we are in more trouble than ever before."

He nodded and walked out of the room. Carlisle glanced at his desk and moved some of the horrific paintings out of the way. At the very bottom was one of Luciana.

There was no blood, no anger, nothing to suggest her violence. There was a small smile on her face and her eyes were black, not red. He smiled and let himself absorb the painting. He remembered it like it was only yesterday. He remembered it well because it was his own masterpiece.

It was Carlisle who had been the artist.