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Transformation & Infatuation

When Edward meets a mysterious young girl and is faced with the decision of saving her or letting her die, he unknowingly turns her. As a newly turned vampire, Bella is confused and alone, and is searching for the mysterious angel that saved her.

This story was originally published on fanfiction.net, and is by the same author.

3. Alive But Dead

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1075   Review this Chapter

Bella's POV

I was pulled from unconsciousness into a fiery haze of pain. It started at my neck and spread outward to the tips of my limbs, consuming every fiber of my being. I was aware that something was very wrong, but nothing mattered but the pain.

I struggled to open my eyes. All around me was water, filled with floating debris from the crash. Floating next to me was a life vest and a partially inflated raft. Through my haze, I had the presence of mind to struggle into the vest and crawl onto the raft.

Somehow I was mercifully alive. But this didn’t feel like life. It felt like death.

Three days later…

One minute my mind was unfocused, clouded by terrifying agony burning through my veins. The next, I was suddenly aware of everything.

My eyes flashed open and all I could see was white. Was that the light that was associated with heaven? Should I go towards it? When I realized that it wasn’t moving and neither was I, I noticed that there was something covering my face. I reached up and pulled back the top of a white sheet. After a few seconds, I realized that it was completely dark. How the hell could I see anything in this utter darkness?

I glanced down at myself. The only thing I was wearing was this white sheet. I was definitely not at home; I’d never slept in just a sheet. Then I tried to sit up, only to hit my head hard enough against a metal ceiling to dent it. The funny thing was that I didn’t feel any pain at all.

I wiggled my feet and felt them brush against another smooth, cool surface. Where was I? I definitely wasn’t in the middle of the Mediterranean anymore. Finally the realization hit that I was in a tiny metal box. With no effort, I kicked out at the surface my feet had touched and it gave way without any resistance.

I slid out of the box I was enclosed in, gathering the white sheet around me. I was standing in a sterile smelling room. The tile beneath my feet was a nondescript gray color. A steel table was in the middle of the room in front of me. I glanced behind me to see where I had come from. It was a wall covered in two rows of silver doors. Mine was the only one open.

Suddenly it hit me: I was in a morgue. I knew from TV shows and movies that morgues were cold, but I didn’t even have goose bumps. I would normally have been hyperventilating under these circumstances, but I wasn’t even breathing. Actually, I didn’t even feel the need to breathe in the first place. I would also probably have been panicking, but I remained eerily calm.

Sitting on a counter to my right were plastic bags full of clothing and personal items. Even though I wasn’t normally a thief, these were not normal circumstances. I was also pretty sure the previous owners of the clothes weren’t going to need them any time in the near future. Not unless they rose as the undead.

I picked out a bag of female clothing that looked to be about my size. I had the clothes out of the bag and was fully dressed in, according to the clock on the wall, less than ten seconds. This was really weird because I normally had trouble just getting the shirt over my head.

On the table was a stack of files with pictures clipped to the front. On top of the pile there was a picture of me attached to the first file. But I didn’t look like myself at all.

All my features had been enhanced to the point where it looked like I belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. I couldn’t believe that I had thought my name and fashion in the same sentence. I usually thought of myself as being pretty plain, but in that picture I truly looked beautiful.

It wasn’t just my features that had changed. My skin was deathly pale. I looked like Snow White minus the seven dwarves.

Flipping open the file, I found a medical examiner’s notes on how I had died. I was over 100 percent sure I wasn’t dead due to the fact that I was physically standing and looking at the file. I pinched myself just to be sure. I felt it, but without any sense of pressure that I had expected.

Super speed, super strength, and the ability to not have to breathe. What was next?

I read the first of two pages in my file.

“Jane Doe was found in Mediterranean Sea at twenty hundred hours. She is expected to be a victim of the plane crash that occurred almost three days ago.

Patient was found semi-conscious and in pain. Source of pain was never discovered. Morphine delivery was attempted, but needle would not puncture skin.

Arrived at hospital at twenty-two hundred hours, an estimated two and a half days after the plane crash. Patient was rushed to the ER and was given x-rays to determine the cause of the pain. Scans revealed no internal damage. Patient was kept in the ICU to monitor her condition. Again, morphine delivery was attempted, but the needle would not puncture.

At seven hundred hours the next morning patient died in cardiac arrest. Resuscitation was attempted, but failed. Body was transferred to the morgue for autopsy.”

The next page was the coroner’s report.

“Jane Doe was delivered at seven fifteen this morning. Body temperature was eighty degrees, yet she had only been dead for a half hour. Y-incision was attempted, but blade could not break skin. Body was moved to drawer 3 for further study.”

Well, according to this report, my heart wasn’t beating. I stopped and searched for a heartbeat at my neck and wrist. Sure enough, I couldn’t find my pulse.

The situation came crashing down on me. I was technically dead. I had no pulse. I didn’t have to breathe. My body temperature was way below normal. But here I was anyway, against everything the reports said, still alive.

I glanced at the other side of the table where I could see the shiny surface and gasped at what I saw. My eyes, usually chocolate-brown, were blood-red. The rest of my face was the deathly pale color that it had been in the picture on the file. The strangely beautiful features started back at me. What kind of freak had I become?