Thicker than Blood
AU. Best friends are forever, but when Elizabeth's best friend disappears, the entire world will never be the same, and forever takes on a whole new meaning. Bella Swan
born in 1881
body never recovered How will the story change??
This was the Challenge by lions_lambs
5. Used to know
Rating 5/5 Word Count 905 Review this Chapter
I held my skirt tightly in my gloved hand. Slender high opera gloves covered my arms from fingers past my elbows in fine white cloth, always white, white gloves without…. just plain, clean, innocent, white gloves. I attempted to block out the thoughts of that night, but like always my efforts were in vain as the floodgates of my memories opened wide and a torrent of pain swept across my vagrant mind.
I shook my head slightly, dislodging the perpetual haunts of my past. I would just look in for a second, see the child, I wouldn’t look in at Elizabeth, and though, God help me, I desired to see my dear friend.
I stepped through the doors, anticipating the sterile smell I remembered only too clearly from my days as mortal. Instead a wave or rather a flowing river of the sweetly enticing smell of blood greeted me, engulfing me so that I was drowning within its crimson tides. The minimal control I had pride myself on gaining during the previous years of my exsistence disappeared into the thick air filled with such appetizing scents. I tried to stop my breathing, failing partly as I yearned to suck in the tantalizing taste. I placed my gloved hand over my nose and mouth, blocking my passageways. I was in essence suffocating myself, that was if I had still needed to breath to live.
I hadn’t felt the need to massacre those around me at the smell of blood in such a long amount of time, that I was in no less words appalled at myself.
I’m Sorry Elizabeth. I thought as I began to choke upon the venom that flowed so freely into my mouth. I all but sprinted out of the hospital I disappeared into alleys and swore to myself that I would always be a friend to Elizabeth, but if I were to do that, I would have to keep her safe, which meant I would force myself to keep my distance from where she was, in this case Chicago. As quickly as I could manage, I left Chicago behind me, full filling my promise.
I broke that promise barely 18 years after I had made it. The Spanish Influenza. The word was like a curse trapped within my head. The disease was spreading like wildfire, leaving only corpses in its wake. I wasn’t sure what my plan was, I couldn’t think ahead enough to plan anything. All I knew was that instead of being in Mexico City, dodging new born armies, I was heading northward to Chicago. I could not and would not let Elizabeth die, even if that meant damning her to the same existence that I was trapped within.
The hospitals I found were nothing more than morgues over running from the lack of graves. I carefully stepped over and between those who had already been claimed by death and those who were only beginning to be touched by the out stretched claw of the black robbed monster. A nurse bustled past me her crisp white uniform stained by the illness.
“Pardon me Madam; perhaps do you know if there is an Elizabeth Mason here?”
She turned to me, her blood shot eyes standing out against the dark circles that appeared to be permanent additions to her once pretty features.
“I don’t know dear. You might want to check with the doctor over there.” She pointed to an older man bent over a patient who might have been sleeping or dead, the difference was impossible to tell.
I thanked her, and made way over to the doctor. The scent of blood did not bother me, for the smell of the dead, the remains of the illness, covered everything else.
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you but is there an Elizabeth Mason here?”
“Not any more.” He replied, not even looking up at me.
“She recovered?” I asked, the last of my hopes that my mission was a futile journey were spread out in front of me
“No, she died. Now if you don’t mind, I have the still living to care for.”
I stood still as the doctor continued his route between patients. Dead. Elizabeth was now cold and dead, her body interned into the earth. Did the Gods not know that she was more deserving than others? She was not meant to die so young. She was witty, lively, and beautiful. Now she was gone. Gone forever.
My best friend, the better part of me, the one who was more friendly, more interested in living, more captivating, was suddenly no longer among the living. Why did the God’s curse me to wander over the surface of this forsaken land when they would take someone like Elizabeth away from those who needed her? It wasn’t fair or right, and suddenly I realized something, the first lesson of many that being immortal would teach me.
There is no God for those who are dead. God is for the living, and I am no longer one of them. God does not look out for me, or carry me in times of trouble. I am his abandoned child, and I will live as such.
Ashes to Ashes dust to dust.
Suddenly forever young felt like a useless way to spend an eternity of mourning.
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