Title: "The Lives in Between"
Rating: PG for violence
Summary: This story was influenced by Bram Stoker's Dracula. It deals with past lives and searching throughout time to find the love you have lost.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
1918 - Chicago, Illinois
Part of me wondered if it was the sickness making me delirious. I couldn't be held accountable for my words, actions, or even what my mind was telling me then, being near the brink of death. I remembered her though. The girl barely my age lying a few beds down, trying as hard as the rest of us to cling to life. We said nothing to one another. I didn't even know her name, but I felt this unspoken bound between us. Probably the hardest part of that godforsaken illness was the day I woke to find her gone and knowing without asking that she was dead.
1928 - New York City, New York
My blood felt as if it was boiling when I saw her again, dancing in the middle of a jazz club with a man I didn't recognize. She looked different than before. Her hair was lighter and much shorter, cut into a stylish bob, but it was her. Her scent was a part of me then. Despite her mask of jasmine she was wearing in an attempt to attract others, I could still break through it, taking in her natural aroma. Just like all the other women of the time, trying to be something I could tell she wasn't, she was dressed in furs and a long blue dress that sparkled. Pearls adorned her neck, hanging loosely down around her chest. I watched her carefully, admiring her every last inch and focusing on not lunging across the street to devour every last drop of her blood.
She intrigued me like no one else ever had, whether in life or death. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hear her. There was a wall up around her thoughts. There wasn't one around the man who was dancing with her though. I could hear every last word he was thinking, things worse than anything I knew a human was capable of thinking. It took me only a moment to realize something had to be done before he could leave with her, but no matter how fast I could move, I couldn't get through the crowds of people fast enough. By the time I reached the bar, only a few feet from the door, I had lost sight of them and could no longer hear him.
Please, no, I begged of no one, wondering why I cared so much. It was as if the girl was a part of me and was in this world for a bigger purpose. Struggling to listen, I tore through the door and around the corner of the building, knocking people down on my way. I ignored their curses at me and as soon as I knew I was out of their line of sight, picked up the pace, racing down the alley. That was when I tripped and crashed into ground, surprised, as I was usually so much more graceful. I winced slightly, wondering when the last time was I had ever done that and looked back to see that I had tripped over the girl's body, lying broken and bloody beside me. She wasn't alive anymore. There was no way she could be. As much of a monster as I was, I couldn't bring myself to do anything but hold her, lamenting the loss of a love I barely knew.
1937 - Hoquiam, Washington
Focus on the kill. Focus.
It was becoming easier with every passing day to get used to killing animals and trying to shun the lust for human blood. I still didn't care for the taste of it, however. As I stood only mere feet from a large deer, probably a few years older than it should be, I watched it intently before pouncing. The deer shot forward in terror, uselessly trying to run from me. I nearly caught it when I was distracted by Carlisle's voice. Before I could turn towards the sound, I felt him grab me, pulling me back in the other direction.
"What? What's going on?"
In less than a second, we stood with Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett in a mock circle atop a large pile of crunchy brown and orange leaves. Rosalie and Emmett were looking particularly pained, their eyes black. Esme appeared cautioned, trying not to make a sound.
Carlisle shushed me and pointed towards the west. I listened and finally heard some voices. There were hunters in the distance, trying to get the animals as well. We did our best to lay back, not wanting them to notice us. We stood nearly frozen for about an hour, not sure of what to do until their voices became much closer, within less than a mile. Carlisle pointed upwards, toward the trees and we nodded. Within moments, we were vanished from any human sight, hidden in the trees. That's when I picked up her scent. I looked down, able to view everything on the ground for about a mile out. From the west, I saw a group of hunters approaching, hound dogs and guns in tow. They were all dressed in the same colored outfits, camouflaging themselves within the forest. To the east, not far from the trees we were in, was the girl I hadn't seen in nearly a decade. Again, she was different, with darker skin and long black hair, probably from the Quileute tribe. Beside her stood two other girls, most likely of the same age, all of them unaware of the men pursuing a kill not far from them. I watched in horror as the two groups of unknowing humans walked closer to one another.
Wait, what was that? I could have sworn I heard something.
I couldn't tell which of the men was thinking the words I was able to detect from the group. I knew that he was thinking of the Quileute girl, though. All the animals in the visible radius were gone, probably sensing us and knowing better. I couldn't let them hurt her. I couldn't chance letting the girl slip through my fingertips again. Dropping to the ground, I prepared to find her, only to feel Carlisle's hand take a strong grip onto my wrist.
It's there. I saw it.
The same man's voice was much clearer, closer to us and the girl. I had to get away and find her. She couldn't die again.
"Edward, they'll see us. We have to stay hidden for now."
I turned to look at him, hoping I would see something that would allow me to run off in the other direction. All I saw was my family though, the ones I loved and knew I couldn't sacrifice. Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett were staring down at me from the trees. It only took that moment of me watching them for the gun to go off and for the bullet to rip through her chest, hitting her in the heart, and killing her instantly. I didn't need to listen to their minds anymore. I could hear the girl's friends screaming and crying from where I stood.
1950 - Hoquiam, Washington
She was here again. I had picked up on the scent of her glorious blood that night at the party. I stood beside Alice on the front lawn that night, starring at the blaze before us. The house we had been at had started on fire somehow, causing us all to take refuge out in the darkness of the night. The girl was here, but I couldn't figure out where. Alice was staring at me suddenly, as if she knew what I was thinking. I wondering what was on her mind, thinking that she may see something that I knew nothing about.
"Someone help me! My sister, she's trapped!"
There was a young man standing near the door of the house in hysterics, waving his hands in the air, trying to attract more attention. He couldn't have been much older than fifteen and the older men were doing their best to pull him from the house, which was beginning to collapse. The screams were almost unbearable to listen to and his thoughts were worse, more intense and begging.
"She's on the second floor!" he yelled to one of the larger men, as if he could do anything about it. My focus suddenly flew to the upstairs window and I saw his sister, pounding on the glass with a look of horror on her face. Without even smelling her, I knew it was her. Although it had been years, I felt as if I had only seen her yesterday. She was blond and pale this time, dressed in a long red evening gown that I sadly knew would burn in a matter of seconds. I knew I had to save her this time; there was no way I was going to watch her burn.
Alice's voice bombarded my thoughts, firmly. I turned to glare at her, not understanding her thought process. She looked back at me, her eyes sad, but wise.
Not now, she thought, with emphasis on the word now. That gave me some hope and I thought Alice knew more than she was saying, which was commonplace. It was the one thing that kept me from running to my death to save her. It was what made me turn from the house, unable to watch the girl's terrified face and listen to the mournful screams of her brother.
2005 - Forks, Washington
Bella Swan. That was her name. I had finally gotten a name for the mysterious girl I had watched die time and time again over the past centuries. It had been so long since I had seen her that I couldn't help but feel a longing for her blood. The craving bothered me enough to try to stay as far away from her as possible. It was best to make her think I hated her than for her to get herself killed. I wondered if I would be able to live with myself for the rest of time if I was responsible for killing the person I had been waiting so long to find again. She wasn't even aware of my stare. I stood across the parking lot of the school, taking in her scent and beauty. She was drawing me in, completely unaware. With the exception of when she had been sick, I had never seen her so plain, yet I had never wanted her more. She wasn't masked by artificial fragrances and makeup like in the past; things that had kept me from truly seeing her. Like in the past, the walls of her mind were still up, keeping me from being able to read her thoughts. That was when she turned and I shifted slightly, hoping she hadn't noticed anything. It was too late for that, by the look in her eyes. For a brief moment, we did nothing but look at one another in silence. But I heard it before she did. The squealing of tires off a patch of ice, signaling her newest exit from my life. It wasn't long before she saw the van coming at her and knew she wasn't going to be able to move out of it's path. Without thinking it through, I dove in between her and the couple tons of metal which were heavy enough to crush every bone and organ in her body before her last breath left her body. She flinched hard, anticipating her early death, but in amazement, opened her eyes to see me above her, holding back the van with one hand. She was safe, finally. At that moment, as we gazed at one another in pure wonder, I felt less like a monster than ever before.