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.
7. Leaving Naples
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1419 Review this Chapter
It took me about ten minutes to find the docks while following the scent of the ocean. From the signs that were posted, I finally discovered that I was in Naples, Italy. As I walked around, I noticed something funny. Everyone I passed stared at me. I don’t mean just a passing glance. They full out gawked at me, almost as if they were frightened of me. This made me very uncomfortable, seeing as how I always tried to avoid being the center of attention. So, I did the only thing I could: I ignored their gazes.
But I couldn’t ignore their voices. My hearing had radically improved. I assumed that that had happened for the same reason as all my other changes.
“Dude, I dare you to hit on her,” I heard a male voice tell someone.
“No way! She’s hot, but she’s, like, scary looking!” his friend replied.
“Seriously, man. You’re scared of a girl?!?”
“No! I didn’t say that! She’s just…intimidating!”
“Whatever. You’ll never live this down. Scared of a girl,” he muttered.
“Fine, fine. I’ll talk to her.” Up until this point, I hadn’t realized that they had been talking about me.
“Hey, I’m Mike.” I looked up to see a boy about my age. He was slightly taller than me, and dressed in all black. His dyed-green hair was gelled up into a spiky mohawk. I could tell that he was a Goth wannabe.
“Hi. My name’s Bella,” I replied, checking out his friend, who didn’t look any better. Mike was looking at me, but didn’t appear as frightened as the other people who had looked at me.
“Whoa. Nice contacts!” he said.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“Your contacts. They’re awesome! Where did you get that color?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not wearing any contacts,” I answered.
“Oh, uh, okay,” he said as he backed away from me slowly, his expression confused and slightly frightened. He walked back to his friend while glancing back at me over his shoulder.
“Man, did you see her eyes? They’re red, like blood-red!” he exclaimed. What the hell was he talking about? My eyes aren’t red, they’re brown! I quickly walked away from Mike and his friend, looking for the ocean and the boats that I would find there.
When I arrived at the docks, I had to find a boat headed to America. This could be difficult because I had no money or a passport. I realized that I would have to sneak on board, that I would have to be a stowaway.
There were many different kinds of boats docked along the coast. From fishing boats to sail boats. Yachts and speedboats. I wandered around, listening as I did. Within a couple of minutes, I heard a man speaking in English, not Italian. I started walking in the general direction of the voice. He had an American accent! I started to listen more closely to his conversation.
“We will leave Naples today; we’re already behind schedule. At this rate, it will take longer that expected to reach New York.” From his apparel and words, I could tell that he was the ship’s captain. He was dressed in a clean, crisp white uniform that looked very official. Now all I had to do was follow them back to their ship and find a place where I could hide for the entirety of the journey.
The two men left the alcove they had been standing in, and walked down the pier closest to us. I followed them at a discreet distance, waiting to see which ship they would board. They walked past the first three ships, two yachts and one speedboat. The captain stopped at the fourth boat and gestured for his companion to board. A moment later, the captain followed him. I glanced at the side of the boat facing me to see the boat’s name.
The Trinity was a medium-sized fishing boat. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it appeared comfortable and sturdy. From what I could see of the crew, I could count thirty heads.
Glancing around discreetly, I saw no one watching me, and I climbed aboard. The inside was clean and smelled slightly salty and musty. I heard someone approaching, so I hurried in the other direction. Fortunately, I was able to quickly find a doorway that had steps going down to the brig.
I stepped inside, wary of the thin layer of dark water covering the floor. It was very dark, except for a beam of sunlight coming down from a grate in the center of the ceiling. I shivered; I was feeling unusually cold. I walked carefully over to the spot of sunlight, hoping it would warm me up.
The moment I stepped into the sunlight, I was shocked by how the light was being refracted into sparkles that danced throughout the cabin. I glanced down, looking for what was causing the sparkling, and found that it was my skin.
I jumped back into the shadows, and the sparkles died away. I tentatively stretched my right hand out into the light. Immediately my hand began to sparkle. I pulled my hand closer, inspecting it to see why it was glittering. My skin was cold, and it seemed like it was made up of millions of tiny crystals.
It was then that all of the changes got to me. I staggered back from the sunlight, reaching behind me to find the wall. Searching, I found a door that led to a tiny, out-of-the-way room that was dark, but clean. I laid down on the floor, curling myself into a ball.
My mind was racing, and I found myself drifting out of the present and into the recent past. I was zoned out, overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. The crash was clear, and so was my journey to the boat. But my memories of the angel were fuzzy and incomprehensible.
I’d barely seen him, but I had thought that he was beautiful, strangely so. But even odder than that, I’d thought that he had burst us out of the plane by punching a hole through it. But that couldn’t be possible. I continued to ponder his existence.
I was broken out of my reverie by a distant crack of thunder. I glanced up to the grate, realizing that it had passed into the night while I had been thinking.
I felt strange. My throat was burning, and my veins were scorching. I felt a strange, acidic liquid pooling up in my mouth and throat. The only feeling that could compare to this was extreme hunger, or thirst, even. I decided to try and find the kitchen.
I wandered throughout the boat, except I avoided an area that smelled repulsive. The aft of the boat stank horribly, and I was sure that the kitchen couldn’t be there. After my third time around the rest of the boat, I determined that the disgusting scent had to be coming from the kitchen, or an area near it, since I hadn’t been able to find the kitchen anywhere else.
Sure enough, the bad smell was coming from where the food was stored. I took out a small packet of crackers, not wanting to take too much. Seeing the food only enhanced my feeling of repulsion. I quickly put the food back and left the kitchen, trying to rid my nose of the disgusting smell. I decided to walk up onto the deck to catch a refreshing breeze that would hopefully clear my mind.
I was aware of the smell of the sea first, and then I was hit by a simply mouthwatering scent. The liquid in my throat built up uncomfortably, and I swallowed it back. My ears picked up on the breathing and the heartbeat of a human.
I crept toward him, making sure that he couldn’t see me. The breeze pushed the scent, the scent of his blood, toward me, driving me wild. I stepped out of my hiding, and sauntered toward him.
“Where did you--,” he started to ask. But before he could finish his question, I had bared my teeth and sunk them into his pounding jugular.
The sweet, sweet blood pulsed into my mouth, and I swallowed reflexively. The man squirmed in pain in my grasp, trying to break free. The beautiful scent was so much stronger once his blood was released from the restraining veins and arteries. My hunger eased as I gulped it down. As I began to feel satiated, the limp body dropped from my fingers. I looked down on the dead body in horror as a drip of blood leaked out between my lips.