Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Learning To Forget Bella

Crashing on with life was difficult for Edward, and forgetting Bella would be the only way to move forward. Distractions were welcome, but that which would present itself could change the Washington vampires' way of life forever...

My first fanfic - would love to hear your thoughts. References vampires outside of the Twilight-verse, including Only Lovers Left Alive. Thanks XXX

1. Torn Skies

Rating 0/5   Word Count 666   Review this Chapter

The Earth spun on its axis, slowly, quickly, whatever. If you put a figure on it, it sounded great. If you were waiting to go out that evening, a thousand miles an hour seemed depressingly slow. But it spun on regardless, unconcerned by the needs and opinions of its passengers, bringing night and day to the world with a regularity bordering on reliable. Washington’s Olympic National Park got the light from the east, as it had done forever. The light went in, the trees silently ate the light, and nothing, nor no one, gave it a second thought. And the Earth spun on, and it was Forks’s turn to lose the night.

First of all, Forks is a funny shape. Not from the ground, obviously. From the ground, it’s Anywhereville. A familiar semiorganisation of industry and domesticity, all vying for attention from the people who coursed through its streets and corridors like sentient blood cells. From the air, however, Forks looked like a giant, geometric splat, tangled in the ribbon that is the Calawah River.

So, Forks took the light given to it by a quirk of astronomical motion and the city woke from standby mode. Within a short few minutes a thick mist (for which Forks was so well known) climbed up out of the ground like a fuzzy crust of vaporous zombies. And, as the Sun climbed in the sky and came into view, it fired its rays into the zombies and dissolved them into nothing. Another epic battle entirely ignored by the people of Forks.

It was probably just as well that the people of Forks were blissful in their textbook ignorance or else the Peninsula Daily News might have found itself paying someone overtime. (The phrase ‘slow news day’ was depressingly familiar, and Forks attracted few people from out of town, save for the odd logging historian.) And so it was that Forkians, or Forkites, or whatever they liked to be called, were paying no attention to what was happening high above a bend in the Sol Due River.

It started with a low rumble, something not too dissimilar to the sound of something heavy being wheeled around a couple of rooms away, or maybe distant thunder. Or even a jet’s afterburner, miles off and high in the atmosphere. But whatever it was, it wasn’t so unusual that anybody thought to look up, and they all missed a dark, irregular shape, maybe only a few feet across, appear in the sky, outlined in a dazzling white fire which threw out sparks that danced erratically before disappearing with no more panache than someone turning off a lamp.

The shape wobbled and rotated slowly in the air and eventually stabilised. The rumbling quietened until a faint background fizzing totally obscured it and, with that, two figures fell out of the shape as if it was simply a hatch or window. They descended at a steady speed, hurtling earthwards and only slowing at the last possible moment. Of the two, one, a male and dressed predominantly in a shredded, mustard-coloured clothes, landed on all fours in a stance somewhere between a cat and Spider-Man. The other, a young woman with long black hair and pale, green-grey skin, seemingly refused to land, remaining at least six inches above the marshy banks of Ripple Creek. She surveyed her surroundings, eventually focussing on the skyline of Forks. She turned to her companion.

“Thanks for the lift ‘Mystery Man’!

“You’re welcome!” sang the mysterious man, in reply.

The mysterious man held his left hand in front of face and flexed his wiry fingers. Blue and pink sparks jumped from the ends of his fingers.

“The juice is a-flowin’!” he exclaimed in his trademark singsong manner. “See ya!”

With that he pitched forward violently and contracted into a tight yellow ball, which promptly disappeared.

The green-grey woman laughed to herself, and headed off towards the town. High above her, the portal closed with nothing more than an indignant ‘pop’