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Benjamin. An ancient vampire who leaves his life to find the Cullen's, adapts to their life, falls MADLY in love with a girl, and seeks help from Edward. A story into the mind of the male vampire during his infatuation with what he thought he hated most: humans.


2. Forks.

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I could make it to Forks, Washington in less than a day. That's all it would take. As I swam an hour across the strait onto mainland, I began to feel elated. I had always had a way with feelings--I was able to "move my heart", as I called it. Emotion, to me, was a physical part of my internal make up. I could push it out of me and into the hearts of others, feel their feelings, and force a change. This had been an understanding part of my human life, as well. My mother had always told me that I could persuade anyone to feel a certain way. I had used my clever words throughout my short lifetime to influence the minds of others. Now, no words were necessary.

As I ventured through the piney forests and swam across streams and rivers, I could only feel myself growing closer and closer to the American border. The temperatures began to ease, and the sun cast morning shadows across the fields.

I came across a small lake within very few hours. Several cottages bordered the waterfront, and nearly every one had their early workers out and pondering. I admired one of the smaller, white homes shaded by several big trees and a large back porch. A small patch of grass for a backyard faded out to the sand of the shore. There was a petite woman, couldn't have been older than twenty years old. From so far away, I could hear her gentle, soprano humming. She wore a faded floral dress with her sleeves rolled up, and her dark, coarse hair was pinned back in a windswept bun. I watched carefully as her brown eyes followed her work. She reached into a bin of clothes and began hanging them on a clothesline. My eyes followed her for a moment, before catching the glimpse of a small, dark-haired boy as he emerged from the porch and shouted out.

"Maman, qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

That familiar tongue made me hurt suddenly. I had not felt such sorrow since the night I had watched the fragile, human bodies of my mother and father be slain in the darkness of the night, with the magnificent light of the city being on fire. Immediately, I took my heart out of me and placed it where it would most be safe--inside the heart of the sweet mother across from me.

She was tired, and heavy laden. Her emotional attachment was secured to someone, presumably a husband. The sound of her young son's voice caused her heart to leap suddenly, and she turned with excitement to face him.

"Je travaille, Christophe," she said. Her heart grew laughable, pleased. "Vous êtes ici pour m'aider?" The boy was no older than four years old. He grabbed the railing of the banister and swung beneath it, dangling like a chime.

"Non, maman! Je suis là pour jouer!" he shouted, letting go of the railing and sprinting across the grass like a puppy. The mother's heart was happy. She was content with her life, simple and peaceable. I watched her for several moments while her young son attempted to climb a lamppost, run away from the small, lapping waves, and brought his mother back a beautiful white shell.

It was then that I continued to walk, thinking. That beautiful woman, a young mother in a happy home. She had a child, most likely out of wedlock. Based on her age, and the lack of a ring around her finger, I concluded that the emotional attachment she had in her heart was not a husband, but her beautiful son.

It was then that I ached once more. My anger startled me. I began to sprint menacingly through the forest, ending my hunt with several large deer and a family of bears. How unlawful, I thought as I hovered over the great, lifeless creatures. I have killed an entire family of bears all out of anger, and self-pity.

I shook the thought off and continued to run, making it to Vancouver by nearly nightfall. The beautiful city was alight with color, and immediately my hunting had paid off. I would now need to make myself a tourist, if only for a moment.

I paced to get to Vancouver, but hid myself well as I sought out the Delta ferry station. Any access to water would save me the privilege of running, and I somehow enjoy the water. I eased into the great Pacific Ocean--cold, to the humans--and began my journey through the darkness.

The coolness of the water felt good against my invincible skin. I seemed to cut right through it, quickly, and pleasurably. I pulled myself up on the shores of Port Angeles, as I had intended, and began to make my way through the dingy town.

Tonight, I was no longer a vampire, but a cold, hard Washington citizen. I walked down the streets, feeling elated. Many people passed me with wondering looks and anxious feelings. I had been in societies before, several times, and I knew how people felt about me.

I was beautiful, show stopping, glamorous. Many remarked that I was a celebrity, and often contemplated where I had been seen. I was nothing too extravagant. I had been plainer as a human, with a mass of thick, brown-black hair and those once-deep brown eyes that sparked curiosity. They were so dark it seemed they were black. I had always had a tall, brawny demeanor and I'd been regularly fit. My jaw was always a prominent feature, and before I had been turned, people had considered me to be intimidating.

But now, my eyes were golden. I could tell by my control of thirst that they were indeed, very golden. My hair was thicker, darker, and much shaggier. My porcelain skin was still very porcelain, but now my cheeks never flushed and my muscles were immoveable. Was I still a threat?

I could feel the heartbeats quicken around me, and see the shifty eyes of those individuals that took it in. A passed a group of younger girls, all hopelessly chatty, and watched as they stopped their speaking and simply admired in awe. I could hear their voices trailing away, all frantically discussing me.

"Did you see him? Did you see his eyes?"

"Em, he was so hot, I think... I seriously.."

"He's mine. Dibs."


I pushed their squalor out of my mind and began pacing up the street a bit faster, making it to a small newspaper stand that sold maps. I fished around for a leftover quarter, then darted across the street when I smelled the scent of coins nearby. Scooping up a lost handful of them, I walked back over and began pushing them through. The box popped open, and a map slipped out. I swiped the paper up and took a seat at a nearby bench, marking my route to Forks.

Lovely, I thought, beach access. Immediately, I got myself out of the fishing town and made it to the alternate edge of the forest I so anticipated. It only took a few moments before I was sprinting through the forest, clambering over trees and making it to new heights. I could see the ocean.

It did not take long to make it to the home, the home that I knew was not mine. It was as if a mass of textured bricks had been stacked and layered upon each other. The house was enormous and incredibly modern. I questioned for a moment whether this was their coven or not, but it had been the smell that led me here.

My thoughts were blurred in an instant when I look to see a dainty figure leap from the balcony and land, softly, on the hard ground. She was pretty and white-skinned, and her golden eyes were kind. She wore a small, thin smile and had a mass of cropped black hair going extremely awry.

"Hello," she said in high, airy voice. "My name is Alice Cullen." Her heart was sincere. It was kind, effortless, but unsurprised. It was as if she had expected me to come.

"Benjamin Granger," I replied, extending my hand with confidence. She shook it, remaining observant. Such kind feelings streamed through her heart. "I was told of this coven out here," I continued. "I have merely come to visit."

"We're always happy to see visitors," she told me. "Would you like to come meet the rest of our family?"

Family. Immediate envy streamed through my heart. I shook it out and nodded.

"I would love to, Miss Cullen."