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Monster

Summary:
I'm nothing but a monster burning in a hell that only exists in my head. There's no hope left until one harmless glance chances logic and binds two eternal enemies together in a twist of fate. Can the escape from this hell be found in an infuriating dimpled grin? Or is this another dark, dirty trick of my own mind? A forbidden passion, heat, and intense anger—this is no fairytale.


Notes:
[Disclaimer: Monster is an originally plotted fic. The ideas within this fic are not to be copied in any way, shape, or form—I have not given my consent to any manner of copying. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. All canon concepts and characters are the property of the Twilight Saga's author, Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. Similarities are for the sole use of fan fiction, and no profit has been or will be benefited from the posting of this fic.] Emerging Swan Award 2012, nominated into Fandom Choice Awards.


19. Trapped

Rating 0/5   Word Count 842   Review this Chapter

"Maybe if I fall asleep, I won't breathe right
Maybe if I leave tonight, I won't come back." - Imagine Dragons.

Chapter Nineteen

Trapped

August 14th, 2005.

It was midnight.

The wooden floors creaked and groaned, as if complaining about the weather. After living in Washington all my life, I was used to storms, but the dull whistle of the wind and thrashing branches of the trees kept me awake. Sleep hovered, heavy in my head. My eyes were peeled, my body positioned upright with my legs crossed. I stared blankly at nothing, dying to be somewhere else.

Every part of me longed to be in the woods, to be in different skin. I didn't want to be human. It almost felt as if I didn't even belong in this body. My shoulders hunched and my back ached from sitting straight. I shrugged around in my shirt, feeling awkward in it. My nostrils twitched, unable to figure out why the scents weren't as defined. I was trapped in a hot, sticky body; trapped as a human.

Jordan Uley seemed so far away. In my mind, I was the white wolf of the woods, glowing in the darkness of the shadows. I was powerful and swift. I could see the reflection of my dark blue eyes as they gazed into an empty pool of red leech eyes. I could feel the sparks of heat as that same leech burned beneath my paws.

I craved the freedom that being a wolf granted me.

The pack was out in the woods without me, as usual, even as the storm raged on. Sam, Jared, Paul, Embry, and even Nicole were running the muddy land, shoulder to shoulder. I could see them when I closed my eyes. A blur of black, brown, silver, and grey braving the storm as they pressed on, protecting the tribe as they were made to. All of them except me, the newbie. When I asked to go out to patrol with them, I was rejected, as I had been time and time again over the past few months. Sam had told me I had been through a lot and needed to rest. Nicole had muttered about how I would get in the way. I didn't care if I was exhausted, annoying, or new. I couldn't stand being myself. I couldn't stand being the drag in everyone's lives. I couldn't stand being so useless.

My head pressed back into my soft, fluffy pillow. I sighed softly to myself while my eyes traced the pattern of the ceiling, memorizing every inch of it. Thoughts continued to rush through my head: pictures, memories, ups and downs, highs and lows. I was starting to get annoyed with the thoughts. With a huff, I rolled over and yanked my blanket over my shoulder.

When I moved, my shirt bunched up, gathering in a tight mass under my arm. I raised my hands, yanking it back into place before stretching my arms out over the pillow, allowing them to dangle comfortably off the end of the bed. Just a moment later, my shirt raised again, gathering in the exact same spot, nearly strangling my breasts. I snarled aloud. I shoved it back down, but it raised right back up. My fingers clenched into the fabric, my arm ripping it off. I spat and flung the tattered remains of the shirt across the room. My annoyance rippled through the pit of my stomach, causing me to jerk upright into a sitting position just as thunder cracked in the background. I opened my eyes, blinking as I looked around.

Just then, lightning ignited the room. There was a quick movement, a flash of white. My head snapped toward the window, following the source of the light out of instinct. The second my eyes focused outside the window, my heart seemed to stop.

A pale man was in midair as he lunged for the window. His nails were outstretched, his brilliant eyes gleaming. Slowly, his lips parted, revealing sharp teeth, the tips dripping droplets of crimson.

I leaned forward quickly, hands clenching my blanket. Heart hammering, I struggled desperately to pull the ball of heat from the center of my body, waiting for the flames to flood my veins and change my form.

But it didn't. I struggled for a moment longer before my eyes blinked shut. When they opened a heartbeat later, the Cold Man was gone, as if he'd been swept away in the wind. The trees still thrashed, and sheets of white rain whooshed down my window. The Cold Man had been a fantasy of my thoughts, another trick of my own mind.

With a frustrated snarl, I collapsed into my pillow. I bashed my head into the cushion of it, murmuring slurred Quileute words to myself. It took a few minutes, but eventually, the dizziness stole away into sleep.

Even in my sleep the monster mingled with the wolf burning inside me, flooding my skull with heated, agonized screams that felt good enough to be real.