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The Shadow's Light

Summary:
Six years after the Seattle Massacre, Kit and her best friend Chrys find themselves kidnapped and turned into vampires by the Volturi! The two girls are convinced they need to help destroy a rogue coven called the Cullens. Something feels off to Kit, but what could it be? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ!


Notes:


1. Prologue

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1456   Review this Chapter

Prologue: Whatever the Hell I Just Did, It Can’t Be Good

I used to be normal. Well, sort of. I never really was normal, but now I'm really pushing those boundaries. Alright, fine, so I crashed through that pitifully feeble blockade and kept on going and going like the energizer bunny on crack. Sue me. I don't know what I think of this. Or what I should think of this. Somewhere along the line I expect to wake up and find this was all some crazy dream.

There's but one fatal flaw to this theory.

I don't sleep. Therefore I don't dream.

Ever.

It also appears I don't have this biologically essential function called a heartbeat. I'm not a doctor, by any means, but that really can't be good. I'm not dead though. At least, I'm pretty sure I'm not, despite the technical, "Hello? You haven't a damn heartbeat!"

That’s a mere technicality, though.

I used to laugh at those who called me death-prone as, was I actually so, I'd have been dead long ago. I guess that just sounded better than doing-stupid-shit-that-could-get-you-killed prone. Even now, where I'm obviously not alive, I'm not exactly death-prone. Wouldn't it have to happen a lot before I could be considered prone to it?

Does this train of thought even matter right now?

The worst part of all this is I was just starting to settle down. Wrong word choice. I've always been slightly...over the top. Honestly, if I had a guardian angel, he'd have died of a heart attack long before this ever happened. Unless he didn't have a heart beat either. Haha, yeah right. In any case I'd finally found somebody I could count on, even if the circumstances of our meeting was a bit less than conventional...

I've always been told I was insane due to the stunts I pulled on a regular basis, but I'm not. I'm merely crazy and crazy is fun. When you're insane, you're psychotic. Your brain doesn't function and-wait-maybe I am insane...

After all, in way too many ways, this is making me happy. That's wrong, primarily because I brought Chrys into this. Poor, sweet, innocent Chryssie. Dammit, I'm such an idiot. If it weren't for me she'd be fine. I wouldn't have ruined her whole life for her.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

Well duh. Where else should I start? My brain really does have some serious malfunction.

I'd been forced-after an arduous struggle-to accompany Chrys on a day trip to Seattle. I fought this tooth and nail until Chrys brought up the whole I-owe-her-for-falling-out-of-a-tree-and-landing-on-her thing. Stupid guilt trips.

The worst thing about this ordeal was that it was a shopping based ordeal. Unless a store smells wholly like food or electronics, I'm gone. Shopping is the most detestable tedium to ever dis-grace the face of the Earth.

(Yes, I really do hate it that much.)

Then-the horror among horrors- is dress shopping, the prime event for the day, or I should say night since, by the time my procrastination was finally brought murderously to a halt (sweet Chryssie has a scary side), night had newly fallen.

Luckily for us-aka, her- stores weren't closing until past midnight because of some stupid witching hour sale or whatever. We'd ended up circling the parking lot for half an hour before finally ending up parking a couple blocks away. Chrys was less than thrilled but I couldn’t care less; a few more minutes of freedom for me.

The cutest thing about Chryssie was easily her jumpiness. She's scared of practically everything, and I never wasted any time pointing out how funny she looked. She felt a little more at ease around me, at least, despite me being shorter by a couple inches. (This saddened me greatly.) Apparently I was a good person to have around if anything went wrong. A number of times I'd tested my luck with that one.

I'd laughed outright when Chrys divulged her fear of the Seattle massacre. Really, that was six years ago for cripes sakes! At least she tried to look confident, but she didn't fool me. I'd known her too well. She had nervousness written all over her face. I never could have guessed the relevance of her fear.

She'd been fretfully going over the "game plan" when I’d heard it, a scream erupting in an alleyway but five feet from us. I reacted on instinct, hissing at Chrys to run before taking off at a sprint in the other direction. I trusted her to get a move on, this course of action being nothing new to either of us.

I remembered hearing her yell a desperate "Be careful, Kit!" as her heavy footfalls faded into the night. I had burst into the alley like a rampaging mare, eyes drinking in the scene before me; then I froze.

There before me stood probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, staring smugly at me with her hands on her hips. Behind her was a man, looking equally as smug. That wasn't right. Shit! I'd raised my guard, preparing for a fight; but nothing in the known universe could have prepared me for the lightning blitz that ensued. Their sheer speed made my head spin dramatically.

I don't remember much of what happened next, nothing but their blood red eyes keeps recurring in my mind; it was way too fast to wrap my head around. Honestly, the only thing my mind registered was my body striking the hard ground with a thud, shortly followed by my head cracking against the concrete. The pain that coursed through me had me desperately wishing for the blackness that's said to trail a crushing blow to the head. I wanted it bad, but of course I didn't get it.

The next thing I knew, a fresh wave of burning pain ensnared me, sweeping over my entire body. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced, and I've had my fair share of injuries. My muscles writhed of their own volition, forcing me to bring them under control. I would not be seen faltering. I would not let them get the better of me.

Silence in the face of excruciating pain was my specialty after all.

Inwardly I bit back a moan. I wanted nothing more than to cry out in agony, I almost wished I was dead. Almost. My pride is a ridiculously powerful force inside me, second only to my absurdly militant conscience. Deep down, I burned for a rematch. I couldn't stand losing, especially not in such a humiliating fashion.

It hadn't taken me long to realise that I'd been tricked. Why? That was something I hadn't quite figured out yet. They could have been bating anyone, I couldn't have been special. After all, I'd never been to Seattle in my life. Hell, I'd just gotten my passport to come to the States two weeks ago! But on the extremely off-chance they had wanted me, they couldn't have found a better way. I could never pass by someone who needed help. That was partly because it was who I was.

Mostly, though, it was because I'd been living on borrowed time.

In any case, I couldn't just stand there and let someone get hurt or even killed! The few who liked me jokingly stated I'd lost the essential instinct of self preservation at young age, but is that so wrong? Is it wrong that I'd rather take a bullet for a stranger rather than live knowing I’d sat there when I could have done something? Who gives a shit about preserving something that doesn't matter anyway...?

In what felt like decades later, the pain only grew worse and worse, but I managed to remain composed. My teeth clenched I felt as if my insides were trembling. Son of a bitch did it hurt. I blankly wondered what in the bloody hell was happening. Why did it feel as if I was bleaching my blood? I mean, I'd oxidized my hands by accident before, but this was ridiculous!

The invisible lava flowed on inside me, taking getting your blood boiling to a whole new meaning. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blue fire left my limbs-and flowed straight for my heart. Shit!

If ever I wanted to cry out, it was now more than ever. My chest heaved violently, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. I heard what sounded like whispers in the background, somewhere far, far away. Surely nothing could be where I was now. I tuned it out, focusing on not blubbering like a little girl. I was nearing my limit, the pain was too intense, but just then my flailing heart suddenly...

Stopped.