Ch 6 Windows Of The Soul


"Si nos pungis, nonne sanguinemus?"

"Si nos titillas, nonne ridemus?"

"Si nos venenas, nonne morimur?"

"Et si nos iniuriam facis, nonne vindicamus?"


Warning: Graphic Violence, reader discretion is advised


The forest was a vast, shadowy expanse under the new moon, an impenetrable blackness stretching in every direction. Beau clutched his flashlight like a lifeline, its weak beam cutting a narrow path through the dark. Every step he took was cautious, the crunch of leaves underfoot echoing unnervingly in the silence. The air was cold, and a faint breeze rustled the treetops, whispering secrets of the dark.

His light uncovered an abandoned plastic cup, almost unrecognizable aside from the remaining plastic sparkling off the light. In a swift motion, he stabbed, spearing it and shaking it off into a grocery bag tied around his backpack.

All the items he used to make it this far in the woods were benefits of his volunteer work. All he did was hike and pick up garbage other hikers left behind. Nothing glamorous, it had felt nice to stab things, even if it was only plastic. That was the main reason he'd stuck with it for months on end.

Beau didn't remember a single name of any person he'd worked with, not even one. He couldn't remember if they were kind or rude to him, helpful or unhelpful. Even whilst distracting himself, he'd been so deep inside his own head it was all a blur. As if the last few months never happened.

They had to be good people if they were volunteering, at least kind. He could've made friends instead of losing most of his.

Too late now, no point in going back there. They'd probably forgotten him, too. He couldn't even remember if he'd ever given anyone there his name. If they thought he was simply a jerk, they were right, no point in correcting that.

Suddenly, the flashlight flickered and died, plunging him into complete darkness. Beau's heart raced as he fumbled with the device, shaking it in vain. The surrounding silence seemed to thicken, amplifying the sounds of his own labored breathing and the distant rustle of unseen creatures.

His insistent and increasingly frantic tapping on the light did little to help the dead batteries come back to life. In a fit of frustration, he threw it off into the darkness, regretting it as soon as he did. Leaving him only with a short and frankly pathetic looking metal spear, he wielded it like a caveman. Wildly swinging it around at the slightest sound.

It wasn't even a suitable weapon, not sharp enough to pierce even his skin, let alone whatever horror awaited him out there. He'd been mostly using it as a crutch, helping to keep his injured foot off the ground as he made his way through the difficult terrain. He was supposed to use a crutch all the time, but refused.

With no other choice, Beau took a deep breath and pressed on, feeling his way through the dark. His eyes slowly adjusted, revealing the faintest outlines of the trees and the trail ahead. Each step was tentative, the terrain becoming more familiar with every passing moment. The anxiety gnawed at him, every shadow a potential threat, every sound could mean death.

As he moved deeper into the forest, the oppressive darkness began easing. The landscape became familiar, the arrangement of the trees and the slight rise and fall of the ground triggering memories. He was close. The meadow was just ahead, a place of solace and serenity amidst the turmoil of his life.

The familiar surroundings provided a small measure of comfort to his feverishly paranoid brain. His eyes, now better adjusted to the dark, picked out landmarks he recognized, guiding him forward. The meadow was his sanctuary, a place where he hoped to find a brief respite from the chaos. With every step, he edged closer to that tranquil haven, the weight of his fear lightening ever so slightly.

Finally, he broke through the last line of trees and into the meadow. The grass was soft underfoot, the open space a stark contrast to the claustrophobic forest. He paused, taking in the sight before him—the place he had longed to return to, the place where he had once been truly happy.

But as he stood there, bathed in the faint starlight, he felt a hollow emptiness settle in his chest. The meadow, once a symbol of peace and happiness, now felt cold and indifferent. He had reached his goal, but it brought no relief, no joy. The same heavy dread that had haunted him throughout his journey persisted, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket.

A sense of despair creeping in, his thoughts spiraling downward. What was the point of it all? He had hoped this place would bring him some solace, a fleeting moment of peace, but instead, he felt just as lost and afraid as before. The darkness within was as pervasive as the night surrounding him.

His breathing quickened, the familiar tightness in his chest returning. Beau's vision blurred as panic took hold. He dropped to his knees, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unbidden, mixing with the cold sweat on his brow. His body shook with the intensity of his sobs, the meadow offering no comfort, no escape from the torment within.

Just as the panic threatened to consume him entirely, something in the distance caught his eye. He squinted through his tears, his heart pounding even harder as he realized what he was seeing.

A pair of red eyes glowed ominously in the distant woods, unblinking and malevolent. They were watching him, a silent predator waiting in the shadows.

Fear surged through Beau, electrifying his senses. He scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The red eyes remained fixed on him, a reminder of the danger that lurked in the darkness. He backed away slowly, every instinct screaming at him to run, but his feet felt rooted to the spot.

Death, it was approaching.

If he squinted his eyes, he could just barely make out the shape of a figure with long, flowing hair. Victor, coming for his revenge.

The meadow, once a sanctuary, had become a place of nightmares. Beau knew he couldn't stay. He had to move, had to escape the unseen threat closing in on him.

With a final, desperate glance at the glowing eyes, he turned and fled back into the forest; the darkness swallowing him whole.


Ithaca was a city of contrasts, where the ancient architecture of Cornell University stood sentinel over the lively rhythms of student life. The streets were a patchwork of ivy-clad buildings, quaint cafes, and bustling markets. In the twilight hours, the city glowed with a warm, amber light, the sun setting behind the hills that cradled the town.

Amidst the city's charm and energy walked Archie Cullen, a figure who seemed to float effortlessly through the crowds. His appearance was impeccable, as always—tailored suit, perfectly styled hair, and an air of timeless elegance that set him apart from the throngs of students and locals. His golden eyes, once bright with enthusiasm, now carried a distant, unspoken sorrow.

Archie moved with a fluid grace, his steps light but purposeful, yet there was a heaviness to his presence that only the keenest observer might notice. The corners of his mouth, usually quick to lift in a smile, now seemed permanently poised in a thoughtful frown. His eyes scanned the faces around him, searching for something—or someone—he knew he wouldn't find here.

The vibrant energy of Ithaca, with its intellectual pursuits and scenic beauty, did little to lift the melancholy that had settled over him since leaving Forks. A necessary decision, not according to him, but the cost had been high. Each day was a reminder of the life he had been forced to leave behind, most notably his best friend. The constant sense of something missing had begun to erode his usual optimism, replacing it with a quiet, pervasive sadness.

Archie's outward appearance was a testament to his discipline; he maintained the facade of the well-dressed, charming young man. But inside, the departure from Forks had left a void, one that the picturesque landscapes of Ithaca could never fill. He navigated his new life with the grace expected of him, but his heart remained in the misty forests of Forks. He had far more in common with his sister than he'd like to-

Archie sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and unseeing as the vision took hold of him. Excusing himself from the lecture as he was assaulted by a barrage of potential outcomes.

The familiar rush of images flooded his mind, each more urgent and terrifying than the last. Beau, his face pale and strained, stood in the meadow where he and Edythe had shared their first date, before breaking into a sprint like his life depended on it.

The tranquility of the place was shattered by the presence of a shadowy figure moving swiftly and silently through the trees, closing in on Beau. Red eyes glinting in the darkness.

Suddenly, the vision went dark. Archie couldn't tell if Beau was dead or just out of his sight, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

He fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed Edythe's number.

"Edythe, it's Archie. I just saw Beau. He's in the meadow, where you two went on your date. There's a vampire…"

Before Archie could finish, Edythe's voice cut through his panic, sharp and decisive. "Victor?"

"I don't know. It's too dark, I can't make anything out. He could survive, my vision ends before-"

"You know where to go?" Edythe's impatience was obvious from her voice. Archie frowned, wishing he could give his sister better news. Knowing her cool facade was only a temporary state.

He saw it. She wouldn't stop or slow down. He'd have to run just to make it in time."I'll meet you there."

She dropped her phone, already long gone by the time he answered.

Edythe sprang into action, her mind a whirl of fear and determination. She moved with inhuman speed, abandoning the half-drunk carcass of her latest feline victim. Every second felt like an eternity as she darted through the forest where she'd been hunting, her surroundings a blur. The unfamiliar landscape of her surroundings zipped past her as she reached her car in record time.

Her hands were a blur as she turned the key, the engine roaring to life. She didn't waste a moment, flooring the gas pedal and sending the car hurtling down the narrow, winding roads. The world outside was a blur of green and gray, the trees and rain-soaked pavement merging into one.

Edythe's thoughts raced as fast as her car, her mind filled with images of Beau's face, his smile, the way he looked at her with complete trust. She couldn't let anything happen to him. Not now. Not ever.

Victor, it had to be him. That bastard should be in South America, or better yet, dead. Killed by the endless cycles of violence she'd heard Jessamine describe the southern continent as. If he lays a finger on Beau, if he hurts him…

First she'd rip off his legs, burn the flesh to cinders right in front of him, let him try to get away first. Next would be the arms. She'd stop at the elbows, so he didn't stop struggling.

She wouldn't be done. That was just the start, her opening flourishes. If her heart was taken from her, she'd take the heart of whoever took it from her.

Then feed it to him while he burns alive.

The brittle plastic of her steering wheel crumpled from the force of her grip, chunks of shattered plastic raining down on her feet, fighting an overwhelming urge to rip the wheel off entirely.

Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator, the car skidding around corners as she pushed it to its limits. She could feel the strain on the vehicle, hear the screech of the tires, but she didn't care. All that mattered was reaching Beau before it was too late.

Still in motion, she forced the car door open, slowing down just enough for Archie to make it in before gunning it as fast as she could.

The car could break. It didn't matter. All that did matter was seeing him, alive or, or…dead. She couldn't live like this, not without seeing the face of her love one more time.

"Please, please, please be okay Beau."


"Beau? Is that really you?" A feminine voice spoke to him from the darkness. The only thing visible were her glowing red eyes. Now instead of behind, she was directly in front of him, moving so fast in the darkness she appeared to have teleported.

A smile of relief flashed over his face as he realized it wasn't Victor. The voice was familiar, he remembered why it was. "Lauren? Is that you?"

His eyes adjusted somewhat to the darkness, making out the faint outline of the girl.

This wasn't a social call. The temporary relief he'd felt was gone. Replaced with a growing terror, a cold sensation coming over him as he knew the end was near.

Death had come, his luck had finally ran out.

"Fancy seeing you here, especially at this hour."

"I thought you were in Alaska. With the Denalis'"

His voice came out sounding more fearful and desperate than he wished. The monster across from him sensed his fear, smiling wickedly as she took a purposefully drawn out breath of air. Her body shivered for an entirely different reason as the scent of his sweet smelling blood entered her nostrils.

"Oh, I was, but our kind can be fickle. I had my fun but got bored. They're really strict about their diet, you know."

"Yeah, they value human life a lot. It's an admirable trait." Beau took a few tentative steps behind him, where Lauren disappeared and reappeared behind him, draping her small feminine frame off his. Her cold and hard limbs drained the warmth from his body wherever they touched.

"To some, I'm sure. The Cullen's had left when I stopped by their house. They cared for you, did they not? Did they leave without you?"

"They did… Like you said, Vampires can be fickle creatures…I guess."

"So you're alone?"

Lie

It was her voice, and it knew the danger as well as he did. One wrong movement, word, thought, he'd be dead.

"They visit a lot, but never stay for long. In fact, it's been sometime since their last visit. They should be coming by pretty soon."

Lie Better

She circled him slowly as she spoke, without uttering a single threat he already knew escape was impossible. His hand desperately clutched to the sharp metal pole in his hand. It wouldn't work as a weapon, but maybe he could use it as a distraction, something. It was all he had. Talking his way out wasn't working in favor.

"Do they? Their scent was very faint. They visit what, once a year, twice? What would the odds be that they came today, or even this week?"

"I don't know. I've never been good at math." He tried backing away from her as he spoke. There was nowhere to go, only darkness and the faint outlines of trees.

She smiled at him sinisterly, showing off her alabaster white fangs as they seemed to glow in the blackness of the night. The fear inside him was real, a twisting and coiling thing that begged him to run, fight, do anything besides stand there, waiting to die.

"Can I be honest with you, Beau? I'm not a good 'vegetarian' vampire. Sometimes…well sometimes I cheat." She licked her lips as she spoke, relishing his helpless expression.

Beg

"Please, you don't have to do this. You're not an animal, you're stronger than your instincts." He thought back to the words Archie had said to him so long ago. Hoping he could appeal to the human Lauren had once been.

This appeared to have annoyed the woman, her sadistic glee turning to indignation. "I am, you're correct. I tried, for a time I really did. But there's no point in fighting nature, in fighting…gravity." She traced her thumb along his trachea, taking a long and slow inhale as she locked eyes with him.

"They'll find you. If you kill me, they'll hunt you, for the rest of your life."

"Will they? I wonder…Well, I guess we'll find out," Lauren stopped herself mid-sentence, her entire body going rigid before coiling like a spring. Watching something in the darkness, he couldn't see.

Run

'No'

A force came over him, like a demonic possession, forcing him to act without thinking. He took the sharp metal pole and swung it forward, aiming for the only part of his attacker visible in pitch darkness.

Instead of bouncing off, the logical outcome of his obviously suicidal attempt at wounding a vampire. What happened next, neither of them expected.

There was a sickening wet popping sound as the metal pole drove itself deep into Lauren's eye socket, going until its sharpened tip found bone, a faint Clunk! emanating from the inside of her skull.

A high pitch screamed far more reminiscent of a human girl escaped from her lips as they both recoiled in shock.

His violently shaking hand was forced to let go as the vampire ran away from him, ripping out the object in one swift motion. Both her hands pressed tightly against the ruined socket as she rocked back and forth on her feet.

Then her remaining red eye refocused, searching in the darkness until she spotted him, the fury of a thousand suns in the scorching glare she directed at him.

She leapt, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Close enough for some of the blood spurting out her eye to get onto him. To see that raw, undiluted hatred in her surviving eye.

Before a large furry mass knocked into him, sending him flying and colliding with a nearby tree, all the air in his body forced out of him while he wheezed painfully on the forest floor.

Lauren, still in a blind rage, almost literally. Directed her fury to the attacking wolf, powerful blows hard enough to crack stone and shatter bones hit the massive furry tank as it bore the brunt of the attack without a sound.

Soon, but not soon enough. Lauren realized that wounded as she was, she couldn't take on even a single wolf, let alone the whole pack.

Her rage turned to desperation as she tried to escape, dashing to the clearing where the stars created enough light to make what happened next fully visible to Beau's tired eyes.

He couldn't see what, but something stopped her each time she attempted to flee, before he spotted motion in the darkness. He counted four in total, the largest acting as a sort of bruiser, while the smallest and quickest one seemed to be directing the rest. All four of them were working in perfect coordination to encircle the increasingly fearful vampire. Slowly but surely boxing her in.

It was impossible to believe that these immortal predators could feel fear, the same fear he'd felt mere moments ago. Yet there was no way of mistaking the look in Lauren's eyes as she made a break for him. To finish him off or use him as a distraction to aid her escape, he didn't know. She never made it.

The largest wolf was the first to grab her, its massive jaws clamping around her foot and not letting go, even as she kicked and cursed, flailing her leg around with increasing fervor, even trying to jam her hands into the beasts' eyes out of sheer desperation.

It was only a few moments later that the rest of the pack closed in, moments after that, then the screams started.

Lauren was a fighter, she didn't stop fighting, or screaming until they ripped out her throat, not even that was enough to finish her…

She was still alive, a horrible bubbly gurgling noise escaping from the remnants of her vocal chords as she struggled weakly against her relentless attackers. Their teeth struggling to rip through her hardened exterior as she was slowly but surely eaten alive.

The only sound after that was that of flesh tearing, then quiet.

Complete, and total silence aside from the faint breeze whistling through the trees. An awful awful quiet just as unforgettable as everything before it.

Beau would never forget the sounds, the sights, not a single moment. Never, as long as he lived. He knew at once.

His mouth stuck open in an expression of disbelief. His eyes unblinking as his brain seared every horrible moment into his brain for the rest of eternity.

The large wolf, the one that had saved him, or saved him for desert, came over to check on him, blood still dripping off its russet colored fur. Its head cocking to the side in a very canine expression of confusion. As he felt his eyes refocus, he noticed there was something familiar about the massive wolf.

Beau knew he should be afraid. They had just eaten a vampire alive. What could he possibly hope to do against such monsters? But he wasn't afraid, instead he watched the wolf as it warily approached. His death had to come sooner or later, looks like sooner won out.

The eyes, that was how he could tell. There was only one person on the reservation with the same sky-blue eyes. He'd looked right into them before head-butting him right in his big nose.

"Lee?" The massive woodland predator was the one to flinch at his words, which felt wrong. He wasn't given long to think about it before the enormous wolf left him, running off with the rest of the pack.

"Thank you." He breathed out the words, a small smile on his lips as relief washed over him.

The reality of what had just transpired hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over him with relentless force. He had stabbed Lauren, an action so foreign and violent it felt like someone else had taken control of his body. The sight of her eye gushing blood, her shrieks of agony, and the merciless attack by the wolves played on a loop in his mind.

Suddenly, the sheer absurdity of the situation struck him. Here he was, a human caught in a deadly game between supernatural beings, having just wounded a vampire, only to be saved by a werewolf. The insanity of it all bubbled up inside him, and before he knew it, a laugh escaped his lips. His hand pressed tightly against his mouth as tried to fight it. It was useless, once it came, it was like an avalanche.

It started as a small chuckle, but quickly grew into a hysterical fit of laughter.

His sides ached, his throat burned, but he couldn't stop. The laugh was wild, unhinged, echoing through the trees, creating a haunting atmosphere. The forest around him seemed to close in, the shadows dancing menacingly as his laughter rang out. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the dirt and sweat, but he didn't care. The laughter was a release, a break from the crushing weight of fear and horror.

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed. Time had lost all meaning. Beau's laughter continued unabated, growing louder and more desperate. It was as if his body was trying to purge itself of the trauma through this manic outburst. The scenes around him blurred, the grotesque details blending into a surreal nightmare.

Then, through his laughter, he heard a low growl. He looked up, tears blurring his vision, and saw the wolf that had saved him standing before him. Its eyes, deep and intelligent, seemed to pierce through his madness. The wolf's presence was grounding, real, a stark contrast to his hysteria.

The wolf stepped closer, its gaze unwavering. Beau's laughter slowly died down, replaced by ragged breaths and choked sobs. He collapsed onto the forest floor, his body shaking with the remnants of his outburst. The wolf sat beside him, a silent guardian, watching over him as he descended into a quieter, more exhausted state of collapse.

Beau's mind raced, trying to process everything. The brutality, his own insanity, the wolf. He felt a hand—no, a paw—on his shoulder, a gesture of strange comfort. The wolf's touch reminded him of his own vulnerability, his fragility amidst these powerful creatures. His sobs turned into whimpers, and he curled into a fetal position, the forest floor cold and unyielding beneath him.

In the darkness, with the wolf by his side, Beau finally allowed himself to break. He cried for Lauren, for the horror he had witnessed, for the madness that had taken hold so deeply within himself. The wolf's presence was a silent reminder of the world he now inhabited, a world where he was neither safe nor sane.

And as the night wore on, the forest held its breath, bearing witness to Beau's shattered mind and the wolf's quiet vigil over him.

For a moment, he felt nothing, only the damp earth beneath him and the faint scents of pine mingled with blood. He got up, brushing some of the dirt smeared on his clothes, shocked to find that he had no wounds aside from a few scrapes and bruises.

It didn't last, it only took a few seconds before the montage began, Lauren's last moments, the echoes of her agonized cries. Still lingered. The stench of blood burning his nostrils and causing him to wretch, weakly throwing up his lunch onto the grass beside him.

Lauren could've killed him while he attacked. He was so vulnerable in that moment, all it'd take was a swipe of her hands, a gnash of her teeth. Instead, they'd both been so shocked he succeeded that neither knew how to react.

Without thinking, his feet took him to the still wet ground in the clearing. The darkness made discerning any details impossible.

There was nothing left, bloodstains on the grass. That was all that Lauren had left behind with her passing.

Vampires bled, like everyone else. Their eyes weren't hardened like the rest of their skin. The sensation of the metal pole digging into Lauren's eye, the sounds of flesh popping and tearing…

A shiver passed over his whole body as the details replayed themselves. It was life or death. Lauren would've killed him and fled before the wolves ever arrived. If he tried to run, he wouldn't be here, she'd be standing over him instead. Relishing the taste of his blood and sad she'd never get the chance to taste it again.

He shouldn't feel guilty, and he didn't. Instead, he felt nothing, numb, empty, dead. If he wasn't in the middle of the pitch black woods, he'd collapse on the spot.

The wolf, Lee, was still watching him. If it was possible for a wolf to look annoyed, that would be how he'd describe the bear-sized canine as it sauntered over to him.

It sharply jerked its head, indicating that he should follow. He nodded his head, feeling like he was operating a puppet, moving strings from far away while his body moved of its own accord.

Now that he was following, the wolf stopped for a moment, turning around and forcing him to cover his nose from the overwhelming stench of blood as it got closer. The sweet and sickly metal tang was so potent he could nearly taste it.

He was curious why they'd stopped, before the wolf slowly started shaking, like a boat rocking that slowly built up in intensity.

Splatters of vampire blood coated his clothes, limbs. Some even got into his mouth and eyes, forcing him to cough and nearly vomit again as the foul taste reached his lips.

"Thanks, Dick."

The blue-eyed wolf exhaled in a way that sounded far too pleased with itself, turning around and continuing its march as if nothing happened. They continued the rest of the way in silence, no doubt in Beau's mind that he'd correctly guessed who this wolf was.


Beau crept back into Charlie's house at the touch of dawn, the crimson blood coating his skin and clothes having dried to an unflattering brownish red color.

The first thing he did was shower. Cleaning up afterwards made him sympathize with the people who had to clean up crime scenes. It felt like he was covering up a murder, tossing his ruined clothes into the trash when he was finished.

He was, wasn't he? Lauren had been human once, alive too. Beau was directly responsible, uninjured she'd have escaped the wolves with no trouble. He'd intervened, chosen to attack. Ignored the voice in his head that told him to flee. The justifications at the time sounded flimsier and flimsier.

Lauren was a murderer, a much more proficient one than him. Her eyes weren't red because of contacts. If anything he'd done a net positive for the world. That was justice, in all its glory and brutality. The death penalty existed for a reason, didn't it?

Nobody had forced him. This wasn't like beating up someone for insulting you, or the girl you like. This was… murder, in self defense maybe. It hadn't felt like self defense when the wolves got a hold of her. Nothing about that felt like justice.

Why had Lauren been there? The one night he decided to go to the meadow? His luck should really be studied. He couldn't understand how it worked so hard both for and against him.

Why she was in Forks was obvious, Victor. Lauren must've been doing her old friend a favor, doing a little scouting mission in Forks and grabbing a snack while she did. Her attempt to eat him was probably more his own doing than an actual plan by her.

Victor was cautious, wanting to be certain there'd be no retaliation when he got his revenge. It was the only reason Beau was still alive. He must not have believed his luck when he showed up right on his doorstep, practically wearing a dinner bell around his neck.

The wolves didn't eat people, Lee had even helped him home, after having already saved his sorry hide. They weren't evil, far from it. A wave of guilt wracked him. He'd been so suspicious of them, for months now, could they really blame him? Hikers start going missing. It makes sense to blame the resident monsters, instead of the ones coming back to torment him specifically.

The danger was lessened, but there would be no wolves guarding outside his house. Victor was still out there, waiting for his moment to strike. It was only a matter of time until he did.

His gruesome death had been only delayed, not prevented.

Now that the adrenaline had all left his body, he was tired, dead tired. Collapsing onto his bed and letting sleep take him moments later.


Beau was dreaming, the sickeningly familiar sensations and the place he was brought to told him that. He was back in the meadow. This time it was dark, darker than before. Not even the light of the moon hung in the sky, only darkness, surrounding him from all sides.

Edythe was looking at him, beautiful and still as a painting. The image of perfection burned forever into the deepest recesses of his mind. Before her image distorted, time itself warped around him as a pack of wolves surrounded her. Their snarling and snapping jaws closing in on her slowly but surely, yet her eyes never left his.

Even when the first one bit into her, a muffled cry of pain escaping her perfect lips, in her voice, the voice he still remembered. Then the next wolf, then the next, before the entire pack joined in, a feeding frenzy was starting.

Her eyes, once so full of life and love, were wide with terror. Her body, usually so strong, beautiful and invincible, was vulnerable and bloodied. The wolves tore into her with savage ferocity, her screams piercing the night. She called out to him, her voice cracking with desperation.

He tried to move, to run to her, but his body was frozen in place. His legs felt like they were encased in cement, his arms heavy and useless at his sides. He couldn't even close his eyes to block out the horror. The nightmare held him captive, forcing him to witness every gruesome detail.

She never stopped calling out to him, begging her to save him, do something, do anything to help her. Screaming until her throat was hoarse and raw from the strain. Screaming like he never imagined the real Edythe could, or never wished to imagine, anyway.

He never wanted to hear her in pain like that again, ever.

Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat that drenched his body. He willed himself to move, to speak, to do anything to stop the nightmare, but it was no use. The wolves tore at Edythe, her screams growing weaker and weaker, until finally, they stopped altogether.

The silence that followed was deafening. Now that his body could move, he simply fell to his knees. Fingers brushing against the bloodstained grass.

The wolves turned their gore-stained snouts towards him, their eyes glowing with a malevolent satisfaction. They began to close in on him, and he knew that he was next. But just as they were about to pounce, the scene shifted.

"I'm sorry, Edythe... I'm so sorry."


The next morning, Beau woke to the stillness of an empty house. Charlie had left early, a note on the kitchen counter saying he'd be back late due to a busy shift. Beau stared at the note for a moment before shoving it into his pocket, the paper crinkling as he did.

His body moved on autopilot, his mind detached and drifting through a fog as he went through the motions of getting ready for school. His hands shook slightly as he poured a bowl of cereal, but he barely noticed. Everything felt distant, like he was watching someone else's life unfold from behind a thick glass.

Arriving at school, the familiar buzz of teenage chatter and slamming locker doors washed over him. The mundanity of it all felt surreal after the horrors he'd witnessed. He made his way to class, finding his usual table and sliding into his seat. His friend Allen had returned from his trip and greeted him with a broad smile.

"Hey Beau! Long time no see. How've you been?"

Beau forced a smile, the muscles in his face straining with the effort. "Hey Allen. Just... the usual. How was your trip?"

Allen launched into a detailed account of his visit to Seattle to see his family. "It was great to see everyone. I forgot how close our whole extended family is. It's been really hard being apart from them after we moved to Forks. We had this huge family dinner. Everyone was there, even my cousins from out of state. It was awesome."

Beau nodded along, his responses automatic and hollow. He couldn't focus on the words; they seemed to float around him without meaning. His mind kept flashing back to the previous night—the terror, the blood, the screams. His nightmare so vivid he could picture it each time his eyes closed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Teachers droned on about subjects that seemed utterly irrelevant. His classmates gossiped and laughed, their lives untouched by the cruel realities of life in Forks. Each minute dragged on for an eternity, the normalcy of school life a stark, almost cruel contrast to the chaos inside his head.

During lunch, he sat with Allen and the others, barely touching his food. The conversations around him felt like background noise, the words meaningless.

McKayla approached the table, Jeremy in tow, her eyes narrowing when she saw Beau. "So, you finally decided to show up," she said, her tone sharp. "Still not planning on apologizing, I see."

Beau looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in weeks. Her irritation seemed so petty, so inconsequential compared to what he'd been through. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, he just stared at her, his eyes empty and hollow.

Taking a deep breath, Beau turned to McKayla. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat, devoid of the slightest hint of emotion.

McKayla crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "You don't sound like you mean it, Beau."

Allen noticed the tension and tried to defuse it. "Come on, guys. Can't we just have a normal day? Beau, I think McKayla's worried about you. Maybe you two could just talk it out?"

Beau's gaze shifted to Allen, and he felt a pang of guilt. None of them had the faintest idea what he was going through, and he couldn't blame them for their normalcy. They lived in a world where the biggest problems were school drama and relationship spats. How could he explain the horrors he'd seen, the trauma that had shattered his sense of reality?

"Beau, seriously. What's going on with you?" McKayla's voice softened slightly, but there was still an edge of frustration. "You used to be more... I don't know, alive?"

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. "I'm sorry," he repeated, a bit more earnestly this time. "I know I've been distant, and worse than that, a jerk. It's just... a lot has been going on."

"Like what?" McKayla pressed, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the friend she used to know.

Beau looked away, the weight of his secrets too much to bear. "Nothing." The words came out as a reflex, neither of them really believed him.

McKayla sighed, clearly dissatisfied, but willing to let it go for now. "Yeah, right. Beau. Just... don't shut us out completely. Okay?"

McKayla shot him a few more pointed looks, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the previous night's events over and over, the horror and helplessness of it all.

By the time the final bell rang, Beau felt like he was on the verge of breaking. The stark contrast between his inner turmoil and the mundane world around him, was too much to bear. He walked out of the school, his steps heavy, his heart heavier. The numbness was a small mercy, a protective barrier against the full impact of what he'd experienced.

But he knew it wouldn't last. Sooner or later, the dam would break.

For now, all he could do was keep moving, one step at a time. The thought of spending time with Jules after school was the only thing keeping him going, the promise of temporary escape from his own mind. He needed to bury his pain, to forget everything, if only for a little while.


Jules greeted him with a warm smile and a light punch to his arm. "Ready to get these bikes roaring, Beau?"

Beau managed a small smile. "Yeah, let's see if we can work some magic."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, working side by side on the rusted bikes. The familiar scent of motor oil and the sound of clanking tools created a soothing backdrop. Jules' laughter was infectious, and yet Beau's face was like a stone statue, unmoving at her jokes and teasing remarks. His mind was elsewhere, weighed down by what he had recently uncovered about Samantha and her 'gang.' More importantly, what he was supposed to say to Jules.

"Hand me that wrench, would you?" Jules asked, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

Beau handed it to her, their fingers brushing for a brief moment. "You know, if this whole mechanic thing doesn't work out. You've got a promising career as a drill sergeant ahead of you."

"Join the US military? You realize you're on a reservation, right? Even recruiters aren't dumb enough to try coming to La Push."

"Oh, right. Didn't think of that, good point. Actually, now that I think about it, you'd make a better teacher."

"Why?"

"You're kind, patient, and smart. School would be a lot less unbearable with more teachers like you." The words to describe her came easily to Beau. He meant each word.

"Ah, but there's one problem with your theory. I'm awful with kids. They like me, I do not care for them one bit."

"You could teach highschool."

She made a disgusted face, playfully fake retching at his suggestion."God no, that's worse. Only if they start bringing back corporal punishment."

Beau gaped at his friend in shock, his brain not fully processing what his ears had just heard.

Her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head, voice uneven as she tried to get the words out without laughing."Corporal punishment, not capital punishment. I mean like smacking kids for misbehaving, not killing them."

His hand found the back of his neck as he let out a nervous laugh, his cheeks coloring as he fought the urge to smack himself in front of her. "Sorry, my brain's fried today."

"You didn't get to sleep last night." It wasn't a question, a statement of fact. He'd not looked into the mirror but didn't doubt that he looked the part. He had passed out, but that wasn't sleep. It tired him as much as the night spent hiking the woods.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a hike."

"In the dark? Alone?"

"Yeah, did you think I went with som-" He was cut off by Jules slapping him across the top of his head, feeling more offended than hurt by the blow.

"Are you insane!? Don't you watch the news? There's man-eating bears around, you're lucky you weren't next." Despite her playful tone, there were tears threatening to spill out from her watery eyes. She was right to be this upset, unaware of how true her words were.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I won't do it again, trust me." He placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it in slow circles to comfort her. He meant it. It'd take some kind of miracle to get him back out there, especially in the dark.

Jules grinned, her eyes sparkling as she looked at his hand resting her own atop his, he'd wait until she wasn't paying attention to remove it. He didn't want to hurt her, but it was starting to feel like she really hadn't listened when he told her his feelings. Or had chosen to ignore them, he didn't like either option.

"Did you see anything out there, is that why you look like you saw a ghost?"

"No, it's…nothing."

"It must be tough, dealing with all that nothing all the time."

Beau laughed, the sound surprising even himself. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She looked upset, so he resumed the motion of his hand on her shoulder, her scowl melting into his touch as she lost the energy to stay upset at him.

The best way to distract Jules was with physical affection, that could be useful in the future. It was purely platonic affection; he'd do it for his guy friends if they were upset, the ones he liked anyway.

Their banter continued, each comment easing Beau's tension bit by bit. But the weight of his secret gnawed at him. Should he tell Jules? Could he put her in danger by revealing what he knew?

They hadn't killed him, yet. He had no idea why. Part of him felt indebted to them, as if telling Jules would make them regret their decision to spare him. Not as indebted as he should feel to her, the sole reason he wasn't comatose after the night he'd just had.

"Remember that time we tried to fix up that old lawnmower?" Jules said suddenly, breaking the silence. "We ended up with more parts than we started with."

Beau nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face despite his inner turmoil. "I remember you fixing up an old lawnmower, while I tried to help and ask questions. What was it you called me back then?"

Jules shook her head, wincing as the memories came back to her. "Stick-bug boy, you were skinny, tall and always stood still like you thought no one would see you if you did. Not my fault my idiot brothers ditched you for their girlfriends."

"I did not! I wasn't even that tall back then, you just barely came up past my belly button."

"Whatever you say, Stick-bug boy, now hand me that spark plug."

Hours passed, and they worked with a focused determination. Beau could feel the weight of his worries lifting, replaced by the satisfaction of making progress. Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, they stepped back and surveyed their work.

"Moment of truth," Jules said, a mixture of excitement and apprehension in her voice.

Beau nodded, feeling a similar mix of emotions. "Let's do it."

Jules turned the key, and with a roar, the bike came to life. They both stared at it in stunned silence for a moment before breaking into wide grins.

"We did it!" Jules exclaimed, pulling Beau into a tight hug.

Beau hugged her back, feeling a surge of joy and accomplishment. "I can't believe it. We actually did it."

They stood there for a moment, the bike's engine purring in the background, the pair smiling at each-other like idiots. For the first time in days, Beau felt a sense of normalcy, a connection to something positive and tangible.

Jules pulled back slightly, still grinning. "You know, we make a pretty good team."

Beau nodded, his smile matching hers. "Yeah, we do."

As they settled back into the garage, the atmosphere was lighter, the shadows of Beau's recent night of terror temporarily held at bay. They spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing, the easy chemistry between them a balm to Beau's fractured spirit.

"Jules," Beau started hesitantly, his mind racing. "I, uh, I've been thinking a lot lately."

"That's new." Her smile faded as she sensed the seriousness in his voice.

Beau took a deep breath, wrestling with his conscience. "Never mind. It's just... you know, life stuff. Sorry, I'm being weird."

Jules frowned but didn't push. "Okay, Beau. Just know you can talk to me about anything, alright?"

Beau nodded, feeling the guilt of withholding the truth weighed on him more as the day wore on. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jules."

He really was awful, a liar and a cheat, unworthy of the people he was lucky enough to have in his life.

When it was time to leave, Beau felt a reluctance to let go of the peace he'd found with Jules. But the knowledge that they'd made progress, that they'd accomplished something together, gave him a glimmer of hope.

"Thanks, Jules," he said softly as they stood by his car. "I really needed this."

Jules smiled, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Anytime. I'm here Beau, and I'm not going anywhere."

Beau nodded, feeling a warmth spread through him. "I know. See you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Jules replied, giving him one last punch on the arm.

As Beau drove home, the day's events replayed in his mind. The darkness and terror of the previous night seemed a little less overwhelming, replaced by the bright moments he'd shared with Jules. He knew he still had a long way to go, but for now, he could hold on to the light she'd helped him find.


Edythe ran through the dense forest. Her vampiric senses heightened as hard as she could push them, tracking Beau's scent like a bloodhound. Every step brought her closer to him, the familiar and intoxicating scent growing stronger with every step.

She had left Archie behind with the car, her impatience to reach Beau driving her to move faster. Pushing her body to its absolute limit as she raced faster than she'd ever moved before, smashing through more than a few trees she'd been unable to dodge in time. The night air was cool, but she barely noticed as her mind raced with worry and longing.

Finally, she reached the edge of the woods, the outline of Beau's house coming into view. She paused, her heart aching at the thought of seeing him after their long separation. The pain was like a dagger to her heart, sharp and unrelenting. She quietly approached the house, slipping inside through an unlocked window with the grace of a shadow.

Inside, she found Beau sleeping fitfully in his bed. A cold sweat covered his skin in a thin layer of perspiration, tears steadily fell out his eyes as he looked to be trying to physically fight his demons, his face twisted in agony. Her heart broke at the sight. As she stood there, he murmured in his sleep, "I'm sorry, Edythe... I'm so sorry."

Something in her chest broke at the softly muttered words, there was so much pain in them, so much hurt and longing.

"Who did this to you, Beau?" She breathed the words, under her breath, too cowardly to risk waking him up.

"Who hurt you so much, that your sleep is this disturbed?" Her eyes burned painfully as she fought the urge with every ounce of strength she had. She didn't deserve to cry.

Monsters don't cry, they only make others.

She cried blood, the blood of a monster, letting the crimson tears fall onto her clothes, refusing to acknowledge the pain she had no right to feel, the ragged fabric soaking up the red liquid.

Please, just tell me who did this, and I'll make them hurt, ten times the pain you feel, a hundred times and more for making such a good-hearted person so miserable.

All that was visible in the darkness of his room was the window, its reflection showing a pair of golden eyes looking back at her. The colors mixed, creating a vibrant orange on her miserable expression. A singular tear of blood escaped, streaking across her pale white skin and dripping onto the floor, the sound like a gunshot to her heightened senses.

Beau stirred again in his sleep, hugging his whole body as a demon seemed to have possessed his sleep.

The guilt overwhelmed her, and she moved to his side, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Shh, it's okay, Beau," she whispered softly, her voice trembling. "I'm here."

Beau's face relaxed slightly at her touch, and he seemed to fall into a more restful sleep. Edythe stayed with him for a few moments longer, fighting the urge to gather him into her arms and never let go. She knew she had to leave, but the thought of leaving him again was almost unbearable.

As she turned to go, she accidentally brushed against a small table, causing a faint noise. Panic surged through her as she feared she had woken him. She fled the house, her movements a blur as she darted back into the woods.

Outside, she picked a direction and ran, not caring where she went, running desperately, as if by moving quickly enough she could escape herself. That'd be perfect. Run until she was someone else, anyone else.

Edythe never ran fast enough. She was still her, the dumb stupid teenage girl who never grew up, who hurt the only person stupid enough to love her.

She lost track of time, still running before she was stopped by Archie. Who had also ditched the car to catch up with her. He looked slightly annoyed but relieved to see her.

"Really, Edythe? You couldn't wait for me?" he chided, crossing his arms. "You know, I had to run all the way here too."

Edythe glared at him, her eyes blazing. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that his vision had changed, and he was alive?"

Her brother shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "I wanted to see how fast you'd move."

"Archie, this isn't a game!" Edythe snapped. "He almost died!" His sister cradled her face in her hands, the guilt physically washing over her like a wave, "And it's all my fault."

Archie's expression softened, though he chose his words carefully. Keeping them in perfect sync with his thoughts, speaking aloud was more a formality than anything else. Something they'd gotten used to doing for Beau's benefit yet hadn't stopped once they left him in Forks.

"I know. I didn't see anything until after you'd already left. I tried to catch up to you, but you were too fast"

"How could this happen!? We should've seen this earlier." If it was any other Vampire he'd feel incredibly threatened by the way she acted towards him, her yells punctuated with an animalistic growl only their kind was capable of.

"Using the royal we, I see. Do you remember what you told me, before we went to Ithaca? 'Let him live his life like any normal human would, good or bad, he deserves to live his life.' We haven't seen each other in months. My Beaudar must be losing its strength."

His joke worked, he smiled back as his sister's perpetual frown broke into a tentative smile, a chortle escaping her lips as she tried to find the energy to get angry again. It didn't take long.

"It's not your fault, Edythe."

"How could it not be!?"

"Well, yes, you are the reason he didn't have any protection. I can't lie to you about that. Beau did choose to wander the woods at night, by himself no less. I don't think I've ever seen a human with such a terrible sense of self-preservation."

"He went to the meadow, because of me. Because I'm a monster, who ripped out his heart and aband-"

"Edythe stop! This isn't helping."

Her golden eyes flew open at his raised voice, it was the best outcome. His sister had a nasty habit of self-deprecation, and an even more annoying tendency to spiral out of control at times like this. She was still his sister, and he'd do whatever he could to make her happy, she'd do the same for him, without question or complaint.

Of course she'd heard all that, it was hard to control your thoughts, nearly impossible actually. No point in trying, She was a great sibling, the best he could ever hope for.

It was a terrible sight, truly, to see a vampire cry.

The water in our ancient bodies had long disappeared. All that was left was blood, putrid, foul smelling blood that repelled him on an instinctual level. It had the same effect on all vampires. Jessamine often joked that the worst part about fighting another vampire was the taste, the smell alone was enough to convince him she had a point.

The crimson tears filling up her golden eyes made them look like the setting sun, an explosion of color and sadness.

When the girl cried, it was easy to forget she was his eldest sister, the second longest living vampire in their family, aside from Carine herself.

She looked like a girl, a young girl, crying because she loves someone so much it hurts. More than anything she'd felt in her century of existence. So he held onto her, crushing her into a hug as her attempts to break free got weaker and weaker.

"I know, Edythe. I know you think you're protecting him."

Edythe's jaw clenched, her frustration evident, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I am protecting him."

Archie shook his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Are you?" He let the question hang in the air, the implication obvious to them both.

Edythe looked away, struggling with her emotions. "I just... I want him to live. Live a happy and normal human life. Is that too much to ask?"

"I know you do, but what about what he wants?" Her expression hardened at his words, fists bawling up the edges of his suit, the answer obvious to them both.

She pushed him away, straightening out her clothes and wildly flowing hair, concentrating on regaining her composure before glaring at him again. "All I want, All I've ever wanted. Was for him to be safe and happy, to never worry about when the next monster is going to eat him. Something I can never give him."

Archie knew better than to push her too hard. "Sure, sure. Leaving him alone is definitely the best way to ensure he doesn't get hurt," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But hey, what do I know? I'm just the guy who sees the future."

Edythe's shoulders slumped, the weight of her guilt almost too much to bear. "I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

"Well, If I tell you, you won't listen. So follow your heart Edythe, it's never been wrong before."

Edythe groaned in frustration, baring her teeth for a moment, and snarled.

In a flash of motion, she took off, vanishing into the night.

He let her, knowing she'd be back after she cooled her head off. Next would be to find Victor, which was as difficult as ever. If he was in Forks, he'd leave as soon as they heard that a single Cullen had returned.

"Archie?" In a flash, she reappeared next to him. He already knew why and didn't appreciate the sentiment. It wasn't his fault she never listened to him.

"Yes, dearest sister of mine."

"You suck at giving advice."


"If you stab us, do we not bleed?"

"If you tickle us, do we not laugh?"

"If you poison us, do we not die?"

"And If you wrong us, shall we not avenge ourselves?"


AN: Listen, hear me out, not to be crass but if Vampires are able to cum, they should be able to cry, they're either a corpse that moves or they're not. For the more technical minded folks, yes it is vampire venom, yes it looks and acts the exact same as blood, why? Ask Stephanie Meyer. That's her lore, not mine.

The crying blood idea came to me in a dream, don't ask why, but I really liked it, Don't plan on any other alterations to how Vampire's work, aside from the eye thing, which always annoyed me, hardened eyelids makes absolute sense, hardened eyeball too? You lost me.