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The Dark Light Stories

“You created me as your toy and now you’re forcing me to sleep with a ghost. Can you still tell yourself that you’re not selfish?”*** Warning: This story is Carlisle/Edward slash. There will be sexual scenes between these two characters. If that bothers you, as they should say in marriage: run now or forever hold your peace. These stories will follow Carlisle and Edward through ten life-changing events, from Edward's transformation to meeting Bella. They will explore the love that evolved between the two men and the betrayal that 87 years together can bring.

Each section will be set to a song from HIM's "Dark Light" CD, which I recommend you listen to: A) because it rocks and B) because it follows the story. The chapters will be as follows: 1. Killing Loneliness: Edward’s Beginning 2. In The Nightside of Eden: Lovers 3. Rip Out The Wings Of A Butterfly: Carlisle’s Doubts 4. Dark Light: Esme’s Turning 5. Vampire Heart: Edward’s Rebellion 6. The Face of God: Carlisle’s Regrets 7. Under The Rose: Edward’s Return 8. Drunk On Shadows: Rosalie’s Turning 9. Play Dead: Edward’s Regression 10. Behind The Crimson Door: The Last Kiss

4. Dark Light: Esme's Turning

Rating 5/5   Word Count 2305   Review this Chapter

Dark Light: Esme’s Turning

Esme’s name was a heartbeat on his tongue that Carlisle never dared speak. The girl with the soft chestnut curls who sat quiet on his bench ten years ago, a clean break marring her fibula, as he held her leg in his hand and spoke softly to her. She was sixteen and it hurt Carlisle to look at her. He only dared bring her to mind at work, when he was far from Edward’s prying powers.

Since their arrival in New York, Edward had started sneaking out while Carlisle was at work. He didn’t need to prove it to know. He could smell the night air on Edward’s skin and that wild look that Carlisle thought was gone would resurface for a an hour or so after he got back. There was another smell that lingered on him that Carlisle didn’t dare place. The fresh, almost aquatic scent of someone’s cologne with hints of something like coffee or tobacco. They were rich, human smells. Edward was seeing someone when he left the house and that someone had a pumping heart. The jealousy that welled in him the first time he realized that Edward was lying to him felt like an immense weight on his chest. It clenched his lungs and pulled at his throat until he wanted to scream. He started working long shifts at the hospital to avoid seeing Edward. He couldn’t control the anger in his thoughts every time he thought of Edward’s long fingers touching someone else’s body. There could be no sex, he had never heard of a vampire that could be intimate with a human and not kill them afterwards, but that didn’t matter. The lies burned a hole in him every time Edward murmured another one, his voice like silk across the back of Carlisle’s neck when they lied in bed together.

When he got home, it was early afternoon. He had just finished a 16 hour shift at the hospital and felt ragged and dirty, his patience worn thin by a screaming child with a gash on his forehead that spurted blood all over Carlisle’s hands for what felt like hours. Carlisle stopped when he turned the corner. Outside the townhouse, a group of men were maneuvering a baby grand piano through the wide front doors. He jogged at an easy pace up to the doors and stared at the shining instrument. He could see Edward in the foyer, a look of wonder and amusement on his face. When he noticed Carlisle, he tried to stifle his smile.

“You’re home early,” he said.

“Yes,” Carlisle murmured. He wriggled past the piano and stood beside Edward, his forehead creased in consternation. “You bought a piano?”

Edward smirked. “It was a gift actually.”

Carlisle focused on the sound of a ticking clock, of knitting needles clicking together.

“Oh? From who?”

Edward glanced at him and then looked away. “A friend.”

He thought of the roars of tornadoes, of drums. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips together.

“I didn’t know you played,” he whispered.

Edward made some noncommittal noise and followed the moving men into the formal living room where the piano was being placed.

A card had fluttered to the ground in the movers’ haste. Carlisle grabbed it faster than human eyes could register and opened it.

It read:

To my dearest Edward,

So that you can make the world a more beautiful place.

Forever Yours,


The name ground Carlisle’s thoughts to a halt and Edward’s head swiveled around. He walked over to Carlisle and grabbed the card.

“I’m guessing that’s mine.”

Carlisle ran his hand through his slicked back hair, messing up the pomade.

“When did this start?” he demanded. “On the train? Was it afterwards? What are you doing with him?”

He said all this low enough so that the movers couldn’t hear but Edward listened calmly.

“He’s a friend,” he said simply.

“A friend? He bought you a piano. I didn’t even know you played!”

Edward sighed and escorted the movers out of the house. He closed the door and went to sit at the piano. He opened the keybed cover and ran one finger over the length of the keys.

“Well, I do,” he said.

He began playing Chopin’s “Prelude for a Piano No. 4 in E minor,” his fingers ghosting across the keys with an unimaginable ease. His eyes slid shut and he moved from memory, his posture firm and his fingers gentle as he strode across the repeated block chords. Carlisle felt something rise in him that tore him in two; on the one hand, he was angry, raging inside at being somehow ousted from Edward’s bed by a young, albeit beautiful, human. On the other hand, a roll of nostalgia and love for the younger man, who he was only now beginning to grasp, pulled him towards Edward. He sat down silently on the bench and watched Edward play.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Edward said, his eyes still closed.

“I’m sorry for being away so often.”

Edward nodded and hit the last key. It hung in the air, floating around the room. “I’m not intimate with him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know you’re not. You would kill him,” Carlisle said with a bitter smile.

Edward chuckled and started another piece, one Carlisle did not recognize.

“But you love him,” Carlisle stated.

Edward’s fingers did not hesitate but he frowned and shook his head slowly. “No, no I can’t say I love him. I love you. What I have with Dominic feels entirely different.”

“What does it feel like?” Carlisle said hesitantly.

“Don’t torture yourself, Carlisle,” he murmured.

Carlisle bit his lip. At some point when he wasn’t watching, a shift had occurred and he found Edward growing calm and dominant in their relationship.

Carlisle closed his eyes and willed Edward to touch him, forcing Edward to read his thoughts. Edward sighed and stopped playing. He touched his fingers to the side of Carlisle’s face and Carlisle could smell the ivory of the keys on them.

“I love you, but I’m lonely,” Edward finally said. “If I can’t hold you, then I won’t try.”

“I’ll always be near you,” Carlisle said, suddenly angry. “I would never leave you.”

Edward turned back to the keys and continued the melancholy song. “Never physically, no, but you’ll leave someday. I know that now. I’ve accepted that.”

Carlisle stared at Edward’s impassive expression in shock.

“I have to go to Ohio next week,” Carlisle whispered, regretting his decision to ever go to the medical conference in the first place.

“Ah,” Edward responded.

They fell silent and listened to the gentle rush of the keys as the music echoed throughout the empty house, all of its rooms too big for the two men.


The Tyler Davidson Fountain of Cincinnati raced past as Carlisle traveled in a chauffeured car to the hospital. His driver was chatty but Carlisle was in no mood. He missed Edward’s skin and his playful smile, which was so rare now. He stepped out at the curb and paid the driver. With his medical bag in hand, he entered the hospital.

Downstairs, in the morgue, Esme’s heart was a slow drum, fading quickly to a whisper. Her body was shattered, her chestnut curls wind torn from the fall and thick with blood. Her mind was dying, shutting down in sections as her heart failed.

An overeager nurse who continuously tried to touch him guided Carlisle about the hospital tour. He was stiff with stress and hunger; the smell of blood was everywhere.

“And this is the morgue, Dr. Cullen,” the nurse said.

Carlisle stepped inside and heard the dying heart as it struggled inside its body under a sheet. From the delicate outline, he knew it was a woman. He strode up to it and pulled the sheet back. It took all his strength to hold back a sob. It was Esme, hisEsme, older and bloodied, but most definitely her.

“Oh,” the nurse said, coming to stand beside him. “She’s a sad case. Esme Evenson, threw herself off a cliff a few days after her baby boy died. Terrible thing. She was such a lovely girl.”

Carlisle barely listened. Inside Esme’s body, that precious heart was getting ever slower.

“Did you say a fall killed her?” Carlisle said, “I’m studying the effects of falls on the female body. Do you mind if I have a moment with the body?”

The nurse smiled, she seemed a little put off. “Oh, well, you’ve barely seen the hospital.”

“I’ll ask for you specifically when I’m done,” Carlisle said, smiling handsomely.

The nurse blushed and sputtered a bit but left him alone with Esme. His thoughts were a jumble; he needed to get her someplace away from here. He gathered her body up in the sheet and snuck out the back entrance at phenomenal speed. The woods were about fifty yards behind the hospital. He ran blindly, tree branches whipping his face and cutting his skin. He ran until he found an abandoned hunting cabin. The door had long since rotted away, leaving the small stone structure as a haven for animals seeking shelter. An owl fled at the smell of Carlisle entering. He tied Esme up to a tree that was growing through the floor with things he had on him: his belt, a scarf. Then he leaned over her neck and listened. Her heart was nothing but a hushed thump somewhere deep inside. He pressed a chaste kiss to her neck and then sunk his teeth into her flesh. The taste of the blood made him delirious, he reeled back, biting his fist to stop drinking. Almost immediately, she began to spasm. He went back to the hospital and made an excuse about a sick family member, a rushed telegram, and returned to Esme. She was sobbing and mewling, rolling around on the floor. Carlisle paced the room, wishing he had planned more. He had been prepared with Edward, as prepared as he could be for Edward’s dramatic entrance to the vampire world, but here was his lovely Esme, covered in dirt and blood on an old cabin floor. He stroked her forehead and she whimpered and arched towards him. Gently, he maneuvered her head into his lap and kept his cool hand against her burning skin as she cried and vomited blood. He didn’t move from her side, even though the hunger burned in him and the days passed. He thought of Edward in brief, panicked moments when he realized what he had done but then Esme would whimper or try to speak and his focus would return to only her.

When she came to, Carlisle braced himself for demands and screaming and fighting, but Esme was calm and did not want to fight. She opened her blood red eyes and he explained what she was and she nodded like it all made sense. He took her small hand and they hunted together in the cool spring night. He told her about his life, about his loneliness, about finding Edward and changing him.

“So, Edward, he’s like a son to you?” she asked.

Carlisle looked away. “No, not like a son, but like family.”


Edward sensed the change before he reached the townhouse. The air seemed electrified suddenly: Carlisle was home.

He vaulted up the front steps and pulled open the front door.

“Carlisle?” he called, his voice rising with happiness.

Carlisle turned the corner, the bruises under his eyes dark and his smile tired. Edward wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, long and hard. Carlisle cupped his face and smiled against Edward’s familiar lips, gently trying to disentangle himself before Esme saw them.

“I missed you,” Edward breathed. “I missed you so much, I—“

Carlisle felt Edward’s body stiffen and he turned to see Esme standing in the entrance.

She didn’t speak but her eyes were locked on Edward.

Edward moved away from Carlisle and looked between the two vampires. Carlisle smiled at Esme.

“Edward, this is Esme.”

“You made someone else?” Edward whispered. “You made another one?”

“She’s a part of our family now,” Carlisle said.

“No,” Edward hissed, shaking his head. “No, she’s just another pet to you.”

“She was dying,” Carlisle said. “I couldn’t just let her die.”

“Yes you could have! You could have let her die like the thousands of others you’ve watched die!”

“Well, I didn’t and I love her. So now things are going to change,” Carlisle said abruptly.

Edward closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were the soft caramel color Carlisle was used to.

“You’re right, Carlisle, they are going to change,” he said, his voice had taken on a dangerous calm.

He left the house without another glance at Esme, whose faded red eyes watched him with a dawning understanding of the situation she had just been entered into. Carlisle took her hand and she smiled up at him. That fiery kiss he had given her had seared her to the bone, she felt utterly helpless under his gaze now.


Shivers run through the spine

Of hope as she cries

the poison tears of a life denied

In the raven black night

Holding hands with

Dark light

Come shine in her lost heart tonight

And blind

All fears that haunt her

With your smile

Dark Light

In oblivion's garden

Her body's on fire

Writhing towards the angel defiled

To learn how to die

In peace with her God

Dark light

Come shine in her lost heart tonight

And blind

All fears that haunt her with

Your smile

Dark Light

-“Dark Light” HIM