Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it. There is no schedule at the minute regarding updates, due to the issues previously stated. But I plan to add them as I go. I have started the next chapter and will add asap.

Thank you once again to my wonderful Sherry who has taken the time to fix my many errors even though she has been unwell. She really is one in a million.

Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6

Entering the coffee shop I see that Isabella is already seated; gazing out of the window with a troubled expression on her face, her lip is between her teeth and her hands are fidgeting on top of the table. It's a startling sight to see from someone who is normally so calm and collected. Striding over I take the seat opposite of her.

She doesn't turn to face me, but speaks anyway. "Have you ever thought the world would be better off without you?" Her voice doesn't possess its usual flatness. Is she upset? Her voice has a slight waver in it that people tend to get when they are about to cry.

Shit. I do not know how to handle crying women.

I think about her question. Yes of course I have! I am a killer after all. Someone who shouldn't be allowed to exist. I may like to paint myself in a positive light like I'm helping people by ridding the world of the monsters that haunt them, but I know the truth. I am one of those monsters. No matter how I try to justify it, I can't. "A few times."

She doesn't turn her head to face me and doesn't look at the waitress when she comes to take our order. I wonder what is holding her attention out of the window, but see nothing of significance.

As soon as the waitress leaves Isabella speaks. "Growing up, my mother often told me I was useless," her voice becomes eery and soft. "Isabella you are a waste of good space on this earth. The world would be better off without you." She turns to face me and I'm startled to see a bruise covering her cheekbone. My eyes stay fixed to the offending mark as she continues to speak. "I tried it, you know?" My eyes meet hers. "When I was 11 I tried to kill myself." She shrugs her shoulders and laughs. "It didn't work obviously." The disgust in her voice is clear, "I couldn't even get that right."

My gut is churning and my eyes find the offending mark again. "Isabella, your mother sounds lovely." The sarcasm is clear in my voice and I'm relieved to see her lips form a small brief smile. I lean forward and grab her hand, trying my best to ignore the feelings that stir within me. "What happened to your face?" I can't hold it in. I need to know what happened.

She touches her cheek with the hand I'm not holding, "I'm on antidepressants." She blurts out, ignoring my question. "They make me feel numb and I hate it." Her body folds into itself slightly, "I didn't take them today. I didn't want to."

"Did your boyfriend do that?" I needed to know.

"I'm useless." Her voice has returned to its normal flat tone. The waitress placed our drinks down and leaves without another word. "I don't work right."

A new feeling rises in me, I feel protective of Isabella, something I am not used to. "I asked if your boyfriend marked your face?"

"Sometimes I make him do it." Her voice is so low I almost missed the words.

The monster within me is making himself known. He wants blood. He wants vengeance. Domestic abusers don't normally make it to my table, murderers and the odd sexual predators are my preferred victims, but Tyler Crowley has just been added to my very exclusive list. The lucky guy won't know what hit him. I guess Marcus is going to have company this weekend. They can bond over their mutual love for inflicting pain on others. Emotional and physical.

Isabella is watching me closely. I wonder what she sees. Does she see the monster within, hiding barely beneath the surface? Can she see his thirst for blood - at this very moment her boyfriend's blood? Looking into her lifeless eyes, I am overcome with something I cannot name, a feeling I am certainly not used to. I want to crawl inside of her, consume her, protect her. I want to make her mine, devour her from the inside out. Own her. Belong to her. I can feel the strange electricity flow between us and I relish in it briefly.

Could she ever care for a monster like me? Probably not. But I will not allow her to remain with a monster who will hurt her. To me that is unacceptable.

"You leave Tyler to me." My whole body screams for me to shut up, that I am saying too much. "I'll deal with him." I can feel the two sides of myself fighting within me. This new side that only makes itself known in Isabella's presence, it wants her trust, it wants her to know the real me. Then, there's the side that Carlisle helped create. The side that tells me no one can know what I do, no matter what. That only family can be trusted.

The side which from now on will be called Isabella's side, knows I need to be honest if I want to nurture these feelings, even if all I get from the relationship is friendship. I can't hide who I am. I can't exactly tell her what I am but maybe if I allow my true self to show, allow her to see that something just doesn't quite add up, then maybe I can see if I can trust her. Now, all I had to do is wait and see how she reacts when her boyfriend goes missing, never to be heard from again. See how she deals with my words coupled with his disappearance.

I guess tonight I will be picking up my first guest. Tyler will have to wait for the rest of our party to join us. Marcus will not be joining him till the following day. Looking at Isabella I realize I know hardly anything about her. Does she rely on Tyler to live? Is he the breadwinner? Will she struggle to pay the bills? It doesn't matter. I can easily step-in and help her if necessary.

"Do you love him?" I never thought to ask. "Tyler, do you love him?" Many victims of domestic abuse love their abusers, it's one of the reasons that many of them are never prosecuted.

"He's all I know." She looks uncomfortable.

"That doesn't answer my question." Isabella does not look like a girl in love, but who am I to comment.

"I need him."

"Why?" What could she possibly need from someone who hurts her?

She looks at me and I allow myself to be trapped in her eyes. It's a feeling I was getting quite fond of. I guess that would be the word for the emotion I felt when I was in Isabella's company. Fondness. Having an affection or liking for. That was the definition and that was exactly how I felt. I liked Isabella. I have never been fond of anything before. It may take some getting used to.

Isabella shifts in her seat uneasily. "My antidepressants," she takes a deep breath. "When I came to live with Charlie, he was worried. Child Services had removed me from Renee's care because they felt she was unfit." I felt there was more to the story but I didn't push for more. "He thought I looked sad." She laughs lightly and I'm amazed at how it transforms her face. "He wasn't good with emotions, but he loved me and he wanted me to feel better."

"How old were you?" I guess I couldn't stay quiet.

"Sixteen." She smiled. "Charlie took me to see the doctor and he diagnosed me with Dysthymia. That's-"

I couldn't help but smile at her. "A form of depression that has all the signs of major depression, but are less severe. I'm a doctor, remember?" She sends me a tentative smile. "You also have to be experiencing the symptoms for up to two years before an official diagnosis can be given."

"The school counselor had advised Renee to take me to see a doctor when I was thirteen. The doctor had said it was depression, but Renee had said she wanted a second opinion." She shrugged. "She didn't bother to get it. Over the years it had been mentioned that they felt I was depressed but nothing actually happened until I went to live with Charlie."

I guess most doctors would be uncomfortable with diagnosing a teenager with something as severe as depression, it may be one of the reasons no one ever pushed the matter. I can feel myself getting angry. If her mother had gotten help for Isabella years ago, she may not be the way she is now. Maybe with therapy, Isabella could have overcome her demons. I wonder how Isabella would feel if I strapped her mother to my table. It's something to ponder, that's for sure.

"So how does the boyfriend factor into this?" I still didn't understand why she needed Tyler.

She looks at me for a moment and I wonder if she is going to stop talking. "I had been taking medication for two years and towards the end of the school year Charlie and I had decided that maybe I should speak to someone." She shook her head. "I had refused to see a therapist in the beginning. I didn't want to talk about Renee, and what went on in my childhood, but as I started to feel better I felt that maybe it could help. I had just started dating Tyler and was slowly starting to feel better. I knew I was never going to be like the other girls my age but maybe I could be happy. Normal." The word normal comes out sarcastic.

"What happened?" I squeeze her hand, hoping it offers some form of comfort. I wonder if they have books for this kind of thing, How to make friends, The serial killer version.

"Just after graduation, Charlie was shot answering a home invasion call. He died instantly and I was alone. I could have gone to live with Renee but I hated it there." I am intrigued by her time with her mother, but I feel that now is not the time to ask. "Tyler and I had applied for college and he didn't see why we shouldn't carry on as we had planned." Her eyes flicked down to the table and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. "I didn't want to go to the doctors when I started to feel sad again after Charlie had died, it wouldn't be the same without him, so Tyler offered to get my meds." Her eyes flick to mine. "He has a friend."

I have to let go of her hand before I hurt her. My hands clench into a tight fist on top of the table. "You do realize how dangerous that is, don't you?" I try to keep my voice controlled. "You have no idea what you are putting in your body." I don't want to scare her, but I have a feeling Tyler knew exactly what he was doing when he suggested this.

He wanted her dependent on him.

"I know." She looks at me. "I decided last week to cut down my pills." She smiles. "I guess having a friend helped." I try to smile but fail miserably. "Tyler didn't agree. He feels I still need them."

"So he hit you?" She seems a little reluctant to admit it. "It doesn't matter what you say anyway. My mind has already been made up." Tyler will be dead before the weekend is over. Maybe Marcus will enjoy some light entertainment.

Isabella's eyes are on me and for a moment I meet her stare head on. For the first time in my life, I allow someone to see him. My monster. Carlisle has seen brief glimpses of him when I was younger before I was able to perfect my mask. Everyone else just wrote me off as weird. Creepy. But not Carlisle. He knew. I never understood it until I saw it myself for the first time.

.

High school had ended and I had traveled to Seattle with Carlisle as a graduation treat. Some father, son bonding. I could see there was something wrong with him. He seemed uncomfortable. His eyes flickering over to me as he drove.

"You remember last month when I spent the week working at Seattle Grace?" I nod. He often helped out at hospitals that were short staffed. "I noticed something. A pattern that seemed to be happening." His eyes stray from the road and flick to the glove compartment. "There's a file in there. Have a look."

Opening the file I see newspaper clippings and photocopied hospital notes. "What am I looking at?"

"There seems to be a pattern. People who would normally have recovered from their surgeries are dying and the only common denominator is the male nurse."

"A nurse. Are you sure? Why would a nurse kill people? Aren't they supposed to help?" Maybe he was reading too much into this.

He nods. "Why does anyone kill?" I know that question was aimed at me. "I need to follow-up with one of my patients. You know I like to see them from beginning to end." Carlisle is nothing if not dedicated. "I want you to meet him. The nurse."

"Today?"

"Today." He purses his lips and scrunches his nose slightly. This was his thinking face. "Just look over the information I compiled. We're nearly at the hospital now. I just want your thoughts on him. I may be wrong." Then he whispers to himself, "I hope I'm wrong."

I had no idea why he wants me to meet the man? Shouldn't he have gone to the police if he thought this nurse was killing people? I could feel myself getting aggravated. I didn't like surprises and my temper has been shorter these last couple of years. My urges have been getting stronger and the monthly hunting trips have not been productive. This has led to a very unsociable Edward.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence as I read the file. I can see why Carlisle was suspicious. This nurse, Timothy O'Neil was the only common factor in these deaths. Why nobody else had any suspicions was beyond me. Some of these patients should have been in and out. No problem. From the notes Carlisle had made, he believes Timothy has been slowly giving too much Morphine to his patients. Killing them by overdose.

Once we arrive at the hospital Carlisle wastes no time in introducing me as his son who has an interest in medicine. I smile in all the right places and nod dutifully when they tell me how proud I must be of my father. Then he makes his way into his patient's room. Conveniently the same patient Timothy has been assigned to.

Entering the room, I see the nurse with a hypodermic needle filled with liquid. He squirts out the air bubble and turns to face the sleeping patient.

Carlisle wastes no time in making his presence known. "Good afternoon Nurse O'Neil. How is our patient today?" Timothy doesn't flinch at all. Just turns and smiles at Carlisle.

"Mr. Goldman's feeling much better today Dr. Cullen." He sounds a little aggravated and when his eyes move over to me that is when I see it. Cold rage was hidden beneath the surface. He's angry and feeling slightly unhinged. I've seen that look before. Many times. Especially lately. It's the same look that greets me every day when I look into the mirror. "And you are?"

I move forward and offer him my hand. "Edward Cullen. I'm just tagging along while my father checks on Mr. Goldman." I hold his stare as we shake hands. Does he recognize what I am? Does he see how alike we are? "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nurse O'Neil."

"Yes." He removes his hand quickly. "Well, I will leave you to it, Dr. Cullen." Without another word, he leaves the room, the needle still held in his hand.

Carlisle walks over and checks on the sleeping Mr. Goldman's vitals before turning to face me. "You can tell?"

I nod. "He's like me. How could you tell?" It wasn't like it was plain to see.

"Like you said, son. He's like you." I don't have it in me to be ashamed anymore. I am what I am. Carlisle has accepted my flaws and all.

"What are you going to do?"

"Stop him, Edward."

I must have been mistaken. "What do you mean 'stop him'?"

"The way I taught you. It's time to put your lessons to good use. I have a cabin."

.

Isabella squeezes my hand, bringing me out of my daydream. My first kill is what put me on this path. A path I now cannot stray from. Looking into her eyes, I make her a promise.

"I'm going to make you safe." She searches my eyes, for what I don't know. "You're my best friend, you know?" I didn't regret telling her because it was true. She's my person. Emmett once explained that Rosalie was his person. His best friend. Someone he felt he could be himself with. Isabella was mine. She may not know all about me, but she accepted everything she had seen so far. I knew I was difficult, my family had made it quite clear that I was hard to be around because of my lack of emotion and ever changing mood swings. Or as Emmett once put it, my creepy ass looks and my weird routines.

Her smile is wide and genuine. "You're mine too."

~E~

The garage is mostly dark and I can hear the sounds of what seems to be some kind of rap music. Creeping along the back wall I make my way towards the music. Isabella had commented that Tyler stays late on Thursdays. I had watched the other mechanics leave earlier and had waited for nightfall before making my way in. It was quite a large garage and Tyler was in what looked to be some kind of office. The shabby contents include an old desk holding a laptop, a weathered coffee table holding a large coffee machine, and an old TV bolted high in the corner of the room, playing a fuzzy music video. On the far side of the room, I can see Tyler playing a game on his phone. I move away and find just what I need. Just as Tyler swears to himself I flick the switch, plunging the room into shadows and darkness. Tyler stands and turns around.

"Quit fucking around! Turn on the lights!" I smile. Time to play. I pick up a wrench and bang it on the wall. I can see Tyler making his way towards where I am standing. "Come on, man. Turn on the fucking-"

I charge and blindside Tyler, who lets out a reflexive grunt, as I pile-drive him into a column. Holding him firmly from behind. I lean in close and whisper menacingly into his ear. "You're mine now." Pulling the needle from my pocket I spin him around to face me.

"Who the fuck are you?" I pause. Really Isabella? You can do so much better. He isn't much to look at. Slim build, around 5'9". Nothing much at all.

I smile. "I'm the boogeyman or the Devil. You choose. It seems my Angel needs a little protection."

"What the fuck? You crazy fuck."

Plunging the needle into his neck, I whisper my promise. "You're going to pay for your sins against Isabella, Tyler." His eyes widen before they close.

Yes, I will make sure he pays.

Have a killer day.