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A Stolen Life

In the process of returning to Forks, Washington, Edward came across a car whose passenger held a familiar, silent mind. Curious by the phenomenon, he followed them and witnessed a horrific accident. Edward soon finds himself immersed in the blood that he'd so desperately tried to shield himself from four years earlier. Overwhelmed by his vampire nature, he allowed the beast within free rein and savored the alluring liquid. Consumed by the shame of drinking her blood, Edward brought the girl home to his father and hoped that Carlisle would be able to save her life, knowing deep in his heart that she was beyond modern medicine. After much deliberation, Edward accepted the inevitable and changed her himself, nearly killing her in the process. With the treaty in shambles and forgiveness hanging in the balance, could Edward forgive himself for imposing such a fate upon a dying girl? Could Bella ever love a vampire who stole everything from her?


2. Chapter 2-Death Becomes Her

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This chapter corrected by Megan and Edwardsfavoritebrunette from PTB. Thank you!

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness, errors, and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."

― Anaïs Nin

*Twilight is the sole property of SM and her publishing company.*

Chapter 2- Death Becomes Her


It revolted me that I was the sort of creature who would take advantage of such a horrific situation. I detested myself for even considering ending this poor girl's life. Although Carlisle might have saved my physical body, whatever remained of my humanity died with my heart.

For half a century, I had pretended to be something I was not. I had tucked my true self away in a box—the part of myself that murdered indiscriminately with little remorse. I eventually conceded and adopted Carlisle's way of life. My father, for all intents and purposes, believed that by not partaking in human blood, we could somehow maintain a portion of our humanity—perhaps our souls. That simple nuance simply skirted the truth. We were damned regardless of our diet. The devil raised his ugly head, thrust his mangled, fiery claws into our chests, and ripped out our souls, dragging them into the depths of hell. Evil resided in my veins—my timid, gentle nature had been replaced with the cold, calculative eyes of a killer with an insatiable appetite for death—for blood.

Four words. She'd said four simple words. The expression could have a thousand meanings, a million implications. Did the girl know of my despicable nature? Could she simply be disoriented? I pondered her words for several seconds, rolling the possibilities around in my mind, eager to decipher the true significance of the phrase. However obscure, they quelled the monster within me, for the time being, at least.

Do the right thing, indeed.

Question after question popped into my mind. Preserving anonymity was the Cardinal Rule. There wasn't any other decree, save one, that we were bound to uphold. The punishment for breaking that rule was death. The sentence was often enacted quickly and without discrimination.

Cradling the girl tenderly into my chest, I stroked her hair and rocked her gently for an immeasurable amount of time. She was beautiful, though most people would find her wounds grotesque. But even disheveled and broken, she was the most arresting creature that I'd ever laid eyes on.

It was difficult to know where to proceed from here. Of course, I had the appropriate medical training to heal her wounds, having attended medical school several times. However, I had never been able to apply my knowledge to practical use. Carlisle had mastered vampire restraint centuries ago. Yet I didn't have the strength to assume his role, as he'd once hoped.

I held all the knowledge I needed to save this girl's life, yet I allowed shock to continue to paralyze me, the allure of her blood anchoring me to the spot. Shock. Is it possible for vampires to go into shock?

The girl's breathing was labored, her heart weakening by the second, thudding erratically in her chest. If I didn't do something soon, then I might as well have allowed the bloodlust to consume me. She lay dying in my arms, deteriorating before my very eyes. I had the knowledge to save her… or the cure to heal her. Thus far, neither truth looked appealing. In fact, the latter disgusted me.

"Edward, have you gone mad? Why would you think such things?" I scolded myself aloud.

I didn't have long to consider my choices, because in one terrifying moment, her heart paused infinitesimally before it beat its last thud triumphantly beneath her ribs.

"Damn it! Stay with me,” I said sternly.

I dropped my head into my free hand, unknowingly smearing the girl's blood across my face. The monster clawed at my throat, desperate to break out of my impenetrable hold and taste her sweet blood. However, the beautiful and vibrant child that lay in my arms, her face still contorted with pain, didn't deserve to be defiled. Fate was a cruel and merciless demon who stole the young from their mother's breasts and the vibrant from their dreams. Her identity was a mystery, but she awakened a piece of my former humanity. I refused to let her go.

"You can't die," I commanded.

Holding her lifeless body in my arms, I pressed my ear to her chest. No pulse—no spark resided in the girl's body. Even in death, her heart sang to me, humming the most melodious tune that had ever graced my ears. Ever so gently, I laid her body out on the rocks. Her auburn curls, matted with blood, splayed out around her face like the halo of an angel.

The sound of the wind whistled through the trees and scattered the broken glass around my knees, producing tiny little tinkling noises as they bunched around my legs.

"God, I refuse to let you have her," I yelled futilely at the heavens. My voice echoed across the rocks and disappeared in the night. God may want her, but I was going to try my damnedest to change his mind.

Lacing my fingers together, I began chest compressions, pumping her sternum repeatedly, ever mindful of her tiny, delicate body. Nothing stirred within. I continued the repetitive motions, willing her body to reanimate—willing that small, fragile organ to restart and pump the necessary fluid through her veins. If the heavens would allow a second death, I would gladly go to hell and back to prevent her premature demise. I'd lived my life, several lifetimes to be exact, but this beautiful, innocent girl had yet to experience hers.

Her skin and lips began to turn ashen from the absence of blood and oxygen to her core cells. I panicked and continued my fruitless attempt at resuscitation. I refused to renounce her life and allow God to claim her soul so soon. Just when I believed my actions to be futile, I heard the faint sound of a once silent heart beat once more, pumping the necessary life force though her veins. I sucked in an unnecessary breath and let it out in a huge sigh.

Thank God, I thought and stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. Praying to a God— who'd up until now, I'd believed to have forsaken my kind—seemed ironic. But, I would thank him nonetheless for favoring the girl in her time of need. Presently, I would express gratitude to Beelzebub himself if it kept her heart beating.

I didn't dawdle and scooped her up into my chest, laying her head against my shoulder. My throat smoldered at the proximity of her blood. I held my breath in an attempt to quell the fragrance of her blood, ignoring the nagging, uncomfortable feeling that accompanied not breathing. I sprung lightly to my feet and traversed the rocks with ease. When I eventually reached the top, I thanked the heavens again for their mercy.

I looked below at the Rabbit and felt a spasm of remorse for only rescuing only one of the three passengers of the vehicle. However, it was only momentary guilt and quickly vanished from my thoughts as I, once again, sensed the remaining heartbeats.

Sprinting towards the little red car, I grasped the passenger side door and opened it, nearly ripping it from the hinges in my haste. I laid the girl gently on the leather seat and wrapped her more securely in my jacket. Then I proceeded with the seatbelt, strapping her lifeless form as tightly as I could. I pressed my ear to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief for her heart still beat, albeit shallow and erratic.

I pounced lithely into the backseat and effortlessly swung myself into the driver's seat. I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved the little silver cell phone that the family reserved for emergencies. Pressing the keys on the numeral pad, I entered Carlisle's number and waited on bated breath for his voice to fill the silence.

"Carlisle speaking," he announced cordially.