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.
5. Getting Home
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I knew I had to leave the morgue quickly. The clock said the time was 12:45—lunch time. If I hurried, I could get out of there before the search for the missing corpse started.
A fire evacuation plan was taped to the door. I quickly glanced at it to find the most discreet way out of here. A fire escape. All I had to do was climb up four flights of stairs. Not too physically taxing, but with my track record for falling on stairs….
Looking out the window in the door, I didn’t see anyone. I pictured the fire escape map in my head…and found that I could see a crystal-clear image of it in my head. Whoa. Photographic memory!
As I walked out of the doorway, I tripped on the doorjamb. I guess death didn’t make me any more graceful. While sprawled out on my stomach, I smelled the most delicious scent. To accompany the smell, I heard a beautiful pulsing beat.
I somehow rose fluidly to my feet. An older man in a lab coat stood in front of me.
“Miss? Are you alright?” he asked me. I couldn’t reply. I was mesmerized by how his blood vessels were throbbing in time to the beautiful pulsing in my head. I licked my lips hungrily. I felt a feeling like an adrenaline rush, and my muscles readied to spring forward.
I tried to shake all of these confusing emotions and inclinations off. As I met his gaze for the first time, his expression changed from worry to fear.
“The st-t-t-airs are to y-your right. The m-main exit is u-up one f-f-floor,” he stuttered, then turned and rushed off in the other direction. Seeing him run off, I was tempted to run him down and sink my--. What? What was I thinking? None of my thoughts or actions made sense anymore.
I turned to my right and pulled open the door to the stairwell. I ran up the stairs, and I was amazingly fast. I could also stumble amazingly fast.
I decided to go up to the roof and try to climb down the fire escape because the fewer people that saw me, the better. I reached the top landing and wrenched open the door, only to have the whole door be pulled off its hinges. I was holding the entire door, in one hand. With. No. Effort. All of this was just too freaky.
I gently set the door down and walked out onto the roof. Scanning the rooftop, I found the fire escape on the opposite side. I crossed the roof in less than a second, and lowered my feet to the top rung of the rusty ladder. I made it down five rungs before the ladder began to tremble. I tightened my left hand’s grip on the ladder, only to have a piece of it break off and crumble in my hand. I gulped. This situation was going downhill fast.
I warily took another step down, but my foot broke through the rung. This threw me off balance, and I fell three-and-a-half stories off the side of the ladder. Falling through the air, I remembered all of my happy memories. Living with Renée. Vacations in California with Charlie. My few friends in Phoenix.
Then, just before I hit the ground, I remembered Carrie dying and then a beautiful boy--. The memory broke off as I hit the ground with a loud thud. I waited for the pain that was sure to come. But all I felt was the cool grass beneath my back. I had felt myself hit the ground, but there was no pain.
I gently sat up, checking myself for injuries. I stretched my arms, waiting for the stabbing shoot of pain that accompanies a freshly-broken bone. Nope, no pain. I then reached back to check the back of my head. My hand felt wet. In fact, my whole body felt wet. I brought my hand to my face, but it was not covered in blood. Only then did I realize that it was drizzling.
The sky was overcast, but I could see it clearing up along the western horizon. Ah, good. Sunny weather. I sighed, missing my mother and sunny Phoenix. The sooner I could get on a plane—I shuddered—or a boat, the sooner I could get home.
But this posed a problem: I didn’t have any money. This definitely narrowed my options. I sighed in frustration. I picked myself up and began walking away from the hospital, towards the smell of the sea. I was crying in frustration, except I physically couldn’t cry.
I cried dry tears as I walked away, trying to find a way back home.