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Deranged

Summary:
Edward left Bella. Bella became a vampire. But more than that, she became deranged. She's a monster who feeds on agony. Now, will Edward find her this way?


Notes:


1. Saving their Agony

Rating 0/5   Word Count 559   Review this Chapter

So hell isn’t that bad. It’s sure lonely…but I’m used to that.

My favorite game to play is simple, but still challenging.

The rules are simple. If I see two stranded couples, hiking in my territory, I quickly swipe one from its place without the other noticing. I tear off the limbs and drop one arm from the tree tops in front of the person that still walks on the path. It freaks out, and I escape the treetops into the bushes behind it. I purposefully rustle around, and it starts sobbing.

Then I simply step out and pretend to be another stranded person. I look like an innocent seven-year-old girl with kaki Capri’s and a red shirt, long brown hair, and I whimper like I’m scared. It tries to comfort me, ‘it’ usually being a man, and I accept his offer to hold my hand.

Along the trail we keep going and eventually we come across the rest of the body. The head is in a blood red puddle, and the two legs and an arm are twisted around and together, like a giant necklace. That usually drives humans crazy. I cover my face and pretend to ‘cry’.

He stumbles and grabs my hand to pull me away, to go get help.

“No,” I say. “Whatever is doing this has got us trapped. We need to go someplace it wouldn’t expect.”

My voice is luring, captivating, and he can’t help but agree. So we go deeper into the dark green forest, and his heart beat is racing faster, his body is heating up, and it’s a challenge not to kill him now. But I always resist. I wait until it gets really fun.

That’s when I disappear. Literally disappearing is part of my talent. I can shape shift, disappear, blend in with whatever I need to. So I come out of hiding as his wife. The one he found in a pile of blood, limbs circled and bound. But I look normal. I look alive. And I ask him, in his wife’s sweet, soft, too nasal voice where he’s run off to, and why he looks so pale.

He runs, hugs me and cries hysterically confused. I hug him, kiss him, and when he least expects it; I tear off a chunk of his ear. He stumbles back, shocked. I lick the blood on my lips and take out a knife.

“Carol?” He asks, still crying. “What are you doing?”

“I hate you. You foul creature. You never deserved me!” I say, urging on his pain.

I say what I felt Edward had said before he left me.

It wasn’t that harsh, but it seemed that way.

I feel the tragedy, the depth of love and surprise inside him that I had become used to. I stab him. I end his pain. The corpse falls limp into my waiting arms. I suck the blood and taste the regret, the pain, the love…and the grievous emotions. I savor this. It was how I died, and now my mouth, my throat craves the same thing in others. I am deranged, but I am complete.

“I’m sorry. Love isn’t that great, anyway. Love is more painful than what I’ve done to you. I’ve saved you the agony. You would want to thank me.” I say to the white skin and bones, as I bury him and his wife beneath a tree.