Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Chapter 1 Lets roll out the ending first...

Twilight Fan Fiction, All property of Stephenie Meyer,

Drink You Alive~ Starting at the End...

Making someone forget. Imagine that. Never to remember loss, anger, pain. Never to remember pain. If you could bottle forgetfulness, would you have the key to a happy life? Or do we need pain as much as we need love?

Hugh Johns was an extraordinary club owner.  Forward March only opened when he was in the mood to open it. Whenever the word got out that it’s neon sign was lit, Jet setters from all over Manhattan flocked to it’s non descript door.

Inside Hugh’s well trained vampire staff knew how to throw a great party. The music and lights were always pumping. The drinks were extraordinary, the bartenders able to wow a crowd with fire breathing, bar dancing and bottle flipping. The servers found you whenever you were in the club (even the bathrooms) with your drink order. It was always correct, as the servers had perfect recall.


All would leave with a smile. Hugh made sure of that. At 6’8” he was larger then life. He appeared to be about 70 years old, dressed in a crisp white tux. Wolf whistling, dancing with the ladies 1/3 of his age, the party started officially when he arrived. The lights would dim, American Flags descended from the ceiling. An actual marching band would launch into a rousing rendition of “All hail the chief” Confetti, indoor pyrotechnics, and colored smoke filled the multi-floored hot spot.

If Hugh whirled you onto the dance floor, you became the center of attention in the club. Some could keep up. Some couldn’t. He was the perfect mix of John Wayne, Frank Sinatra and Fred Astaire. 

He was a perfect gentlemen and quite a rascal. And a vampire with a talent so rare and so important, no one was allowed to remember he even existed at all. Leaving Forward March, you were treated to a mind wipe. Customers would leave remembering only that they had the time of their life, and that they couldn’t wait to come back. If they tried to explain to others why they liked the club so much, they would not be able to pin down details.

Hugh was such a great talent, he could even change the mind of other vampires. He found out the hard way that he needed to stay hidden. He was a weapon of mass destruction in the vampire world.  His vampire staff lived on premise. There was no leaving with your memory intact.

I never imagined I would have Hugh as a friend. Or that I would ask him to hurt me so thoroughly. But I did.




“Make them forget me.” It was the smallest of whispers. But Hugh could hear it.

He nodded gallantly. “You’re sure?”

That was the most loaded question I had ever been asked. Considering I could talk to ghosts, that was saying something.

In the middle of the spectacular, empty dance floor of Forward March stood the magnificent man who had just proposed to me. I had said yes. Yes with my soul, heart and mind. The endlessness of forever laid out in front of us. A never-ending road of love.

His golden eyes held disbelief and hurt as he heard my words. Just moments before those same eyes had smiled. Smiled with fire and victory and love, right into me.

The engagement party decorations were garish now.

Alice, the woman who peeked into the future on a regular basis, was cuddled in the arms of her Jasper. He was working feverishly to calm her.

The force of her latest vision had almost rendered her senseless.

Seeing her so helpless was the only thing that supported my decision.

She looked into my eyes. “There will be no end to the pain. Edward will kill us all. We won’t even try to fight back. We love him too much.”

The future mass murderer stood steadfastly, saying “No!” in various tones, lengths and intensities. That was the only word he was saying to everyone.


“I’m sure, Hugh. Make them forget me. Make it like I never was.” Each word was a knife into him, coming straight from me.

Hugh looked to Edward “You have three minutes left, make them count, kiddo.” Hugh started his procedure on Esme. We watched the horror and concern in her face slide away like soap bubbles on the tiled shower wall. In its place was a pleasant, happy look, she shrugged on her coat and stepped outside the club.

It was so quick and painless. Hugh started to work on Carlisle who had the presence of mind to look at me during the process, “I love you, my daughter.” Watching the knowing evaporate from his golden eyes was equally disconcerting. He grabbed his jacket to leave.

I knew these were my last moments with Edward. Everything around us would crash soon. I was in his arms before Hugh started on Rosalie.

He was hugging me and breathing me in. I was trying to be hugged and look in his eyes at the same time.

He started to whisper so quickly. “Don’t do this, Please. Please, we can fix this, just give me a day, let me try and figure something out. Nothing Alice sees is written in stone. Nothing! “

I looked at Alice. She shook her head with tremendous sorrow and sought the arms of Jasper.

“Will he be safe if I do this? We you all be safe?” I said it to Alice while looking into Edward’s face. Trying to burn the sight of him into my brain.

“Yes, we must all forget. But you can’t. We need you to remember us.” I nodded at her words. I knew Edward was screening her brain and flinched at what he saw there. He knew she was right.

“Don’t let him talk you out of it.” It was her last warning before Hugh began to wipe me out of her brain.

“Edward, Please, dance with me, make this count.” I was speaking directly into his mouth, between kisses.

He pulled out his cell phone and made a quick, hurried call.

“Oh, god, you are really going to do this.” It had finally seemed real to him.

Emmett began punching the walls, poking holes as he went. He was furious. I thought of how much of a big brother he was to me. He was in the middle of writing the word “No” with his fists, in the wall.

“She is my sister. I will not leave her. I will not..” His furious voice drained away. He went to get his jacket, his anger replaced with a happy go lucky smile.

Emmett. Losing him hurt.

“I will never forget you. I won’t. Your eyes will be with me. I love you. I would go insane for you. I will go insane without you.” He was speaking slower. He knew and I knew what was happening.

Our song erupted from the sound system. We started to dance. Edward twirling me and dipping me, just like our first dance. I smiled at him. This moment was mine. He fought against his emotions, and smiled back.

“Keep the ring” He could tell I was planning on giving it back. After.

Hugh was standing right behind Edward. I nodded at him. Edward stopped dancing. He cradled the back of my head with one hand and laid his other hand over my heart.

Even though it had been dead for months, I swear it started beating right there, under his hand. “I love you.” He tried to put forever in every word.

I saw the pain and anguish start to slide from those amber eyes. His memory was draining like a bathtub. The pain in his face relaxed. The careful, watchful Edward was back. I slid the beautiful antique ring I had only worn for just a little while off my left hand. With a quick swipe of my fingernail I removed the inscription “Unforgettable” from its place inside the band.  I pressed the engagement ring into his hand on my heart and stepped back. It was meant for the love of his life, and that could never be me.

Hugh took over the dance. He kept my back to Edward. His lovely baritone voice humming along with Nate King Cole’s song, “Son, you dropped that ring, I would try and keep it safe.”

I watched Edward reflected in Hugh’s eyes. The reflection grabbed at his jacket, hesitated at mine, and left.


The dancing stopped. The music stopped.

“He’s gone. They are all gone. They won’t remember anything about you.” The words were harsh. But Hugh’s voice held endless compassion.

“You’ll stay here, with us, until you figure out what to do next,” He held his hand out to his beautiful bride Barbara. They left the now empty club.


I fell to my knees.

Vampires can’t cry.

But they can scream.

So my screaming started. So very loud and so very long I was sure it would never stop. I tried to claw out my own dead heart. I felt the satisfaction of shredding vampire skin.


Before Bella.

Before Bella and Edward.

There was Sasha.

There was Sasha and Edward.


Chapter Pre 1

Dr. Carlisle Cullen knew that his looks were overwhelming. He had hundreds of years of practice trying to get people overcome the distraction of his angelic good looks, and really listen to him. Sadly, some never got past the golden eyes and chiseled perfection to hear his words.


Working in New York City was a bit easier then some parts of the United States. The population was so diverse, they were almost supernatural.

A true New Yorker did not get easily flustered, their game face was their facial screen saver.


He grabbed his charts from Nala, one of the most efficient nurses he had ever had the pleasure of dealing with.  Since he had been practicing medicine since 1902, this was a considerable mental compliment.


His effort to walk with human mannerisms was second nature now. As was fidgeting, sitting and running his fingers through his always perfect hair.


He closed the door to his office with a gentle care. Then he locked it. He could not hear the minds of by passers like his vampire child, Edward, nor could he see into the future like the sweet  Alice. Her adoption of the Cullens as a family had brought so much musical light to their family. 


With the door locked, Carlisle was free to let his vampire nature allow him to be the most prolific Doctor in existence. Of course, he had to publish papers and findings under aliases, or convince other Doctors or researchers, that his brilliant ideas  were really their own. In his 339 years as a vampire, he has lost the need to gain human recognition for his efforts. There was no need to see his name in lights for he was already immortal.

In the privacy of his hospital office, with no prying eyes, Carlisle was able to begin his routine. Classical music on, one hand and eye reading a vintage account of a mysterious disease from the 1800’s. The other hand writing notes and making comparisons to a case in Idaho that another Doctor and requested his opinion on.  The book from his personal library at home, it had been passed to him by the author himself. The handwriting was picture perfect Ariel font, him with important words bolded, as if fresh from the printer.  If these two cases were as similar as it seemed, Carlisle thought there might be a need to alert the CDC to a possible infectious outbreak of viral bacteria the human population had thought was long defeated.  His beautiful, meticulous brain filtering out the different options and courses of treatment.


He felt like he was on the verge of a discovery when the Psychologist in the next office arrived to his place of work with a bang and a bump. The man was so incredibly loud. It was phenomenal.  The bodily function noises alone were almost at a level that would require a full medical work out. Phlegm clearing, flatulence, neck cracking, knuckle cracking all made themselves audible visitors in Carlisle’s office.

Hundreds of years of practicing patience and this man next door was going to drive him insane.  Super vampire hearing was almost always a benefit. Not with Dr. Henry Pustoole.  He could make Jesus Christ lose his temper. Maybe is was because he was a constant drinker. Carlisle could hear the metal flask unscrewing in the office next door with a cringing squeak. Maybe it was because Henry was the worst psychologist in the world, often accusing his patients of lying and trying to medicate any concern they had. Between his hyper billing of insurances and the heavy kick backs he got from brand name prescription drugs, there was precious little that could qualify as a redeeming quality for Henry.

He had been next door to Carlisle for two weeks now. Usually, the Hospital director kept the office space next to Carlisle empty. An odd request was well worth the benefit of having Dr. Cullen on board.


Carlisle took the interruption as time to reflect on his family. He gazed at their pictures on his desk. The hiking photo had them all paired up. Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. Edward was standing in the back smiling by himself. Carlisle liked the picture because of the light in Edward’s eyes, Emmett had dared Edward to take the picture without using the timer. Of course Edward propped the camera in a tree, pressed the button and was in the photo before the flash. Edward had the thrill of a bet won in his eyes, and it almost masked the haunted loneliness that hid in his golden eyes.

Despite the rustic photo, which was a prop for the humans, the Cullens were enjoying City life. Even though New York had it’s share of sunny days, the nightlife was so extensive, a group of people that preferred the night raised no suspicions. Edward could be piano player in a bar, Alice and Jasper could attend the Fashion Institute together (much to Jasper’s protests) and Rosalie and Emmett  were working at a local car repair shop.

Esme was loving working in the antique shop in Soho.  It was almost perfect. Almost. If Henry would just get reassigned to a different office.

Carlisle had the necessary steps in motion to get Henry in a new line of work all together. His conscious would not allow him to be privy to the knowledge of all that went on next door without feeling somewhat responsible to the patient’s stories he could not help but overhear. In the two weeks there had been three unlucky souls laying on the awful couch Henry still used more as tool to make him feel more superior. All three had recommendations for other Doctors in their hand before they left the front sliding doors of the hospital.


There was a tentative knock on Henry’s door. His 3:00 appointment.

Carlisle settled in to overhear the conversation in an effort to redirect the patient.


“Come in!”, Henry was twisting on the cap to his flask and shutting the third drawer down in his desk.

The door knob turned. Henry straightened up in his chair and I could tell from his fidgeting that the patient was female and possibly good looking.


“Well, Hello young lady please come in, lie down on the couch” Henry was had deliberately begun talking in a deeper voice.

Carlisle mentally shook his head, but physically, he was as still as a statue holding pen to paper.

Timid, this new patent was. She murmured her greeting, but Carlisle could tell from the sound of her footsteps that she had decided to sit on the couch as opposed to the prone positing Henry Favored.

Carlisle could hear the whisperer “tisk” seeping from Henry’s incompetent lips. Henry liked the upper hand.


“Well, Miss Duncan, I have reviewed the file your previous Doctor had sent over to me, a Dr….”, Henry paused here to ruffle some papers to find his answer.

“Dr. Lavender.” Miss Duncan filled in for Henry.

“Says here you hear voices in your head, and you refuse any medication to steimy these voices.” Henry couldn’t wring the sarcasm out of his voice.

Carlisle continued writing while carefully listening to the goings on next door.

“Um. I think there might have been a mix up, I have a sort of special situation that requires me to meet with my Doctor about once a week.” Miss Duncan seemed ready to run, her words perched tentatively like a butterfly on a flower’s pedal.

“Sasha, May I call you Sasha?”, Henry continued without her assent, “I understand that your previous Doctor may have claimed to “believe” you, Carlisle could hear the air move around Henry’s stubby fingers as he made the universal sign for quote around the word “believe”.

“But I do not agree with feeding patients delusions, I will be straight with you from the get go. Voices in your head need to be treated with medication. I have seen good results with “Mycocken”.” Carlisle could not believe the audacity of Henry.  The suppliers of “Mycocken” had dropped off a boatload of samples earlier that morning. The drug rep had promised the first Doctor to prescribe it to 20 patients an all expenses paid trip to an Upstate Bed and Breakfast.

 “Mycocken”? Who names these drugs anyway?” She said it more to herself then to Henry. “Thank you for your time Dr. Pustoole. But I must be leaving,” Poor Sasha had no idea how long Henry could make the walk from his couch to his office door. 

“Wait, Sasha , please. I am sorry, why don’t you sit back down. Let us not be too hasty, I really feel I need some background from you. Words on paper can be so misleading.” Carlisle googled Dr. Lavender with his free hand. A quick glance at the results on the screen determined two possible Dr. Lavender’s in New York State. One was a psychologist.

A little more quick vampire hand gestures brought up more information. Dr. Valerie Lavender was highly respected.

The tension in the next room grew. Carlisle heard Sasha take in an exasperated breath.  Apparently Henry had changed his demeanor enough to have Sasha sit back down.

“Ok. Where should I start?” Explaining her voices didn’t seem to come easy to her.

She answered her own question, “I have always had the spirits come to me, as long as I can remember. Even though they were part of my every recollection, I never felt at ease around them. I stuck close to my mother or sister, and they which they allowed. It was like I had no defenses, so many spirits came. By the time I reached school age, I was fearful of being without my parents and my sister was two grades ahead of me.  I begin to try and tune them out. I got better at locking them out as I tried to let my Teachers voices seep in.” She shifted her feet and smoothed what sounded to be a skirt over her legs.


“Continue..“ Carlisle could picture Henry rolling his hand forward at the wrist.

“Well, I eventually began to talk to the spirits, It seemed to take less energy then blocking them out. I had always thought they were talking at me.  Even if they asked for help, I didn’t know what good I could do for them. So I just struck up a conversation with an older gentlemen spirit that had been following me around.  I was sitting on the top of the Monkey Bars in what had to be about 3rd grade, and I just said “Hi!” He gave me a nod and seemed to want to talk about my day. I told him about my school play and he asked sweet questions, just like a grandfather.” Carlisle could hear the scratching of Henry’s pen on a tablet of paper.

“Why was the gentlemen so significant?” Henry sounded so coherent, very unlike him.

“He told me that basically spirits want someone to hear them. I didn’t necessarily have to do anything other then listen. And release them.  Sometimes a spirit needs to be reminded to move on.” Sasha took a large yoga inspired breath. Trusting anyone with this tale seemed to take a lot out of her.

“Move on?” repeating a patient words in a question, Henry was really trying, which worried Carlisle.

“Mostly, just guide them to the next level in their journey.” Carlisle heard her eye lashes press together. She was squinting, trying to see the impact her words had.

“Well, there is only one thing to do Sasha, talk to a ghost of mine.” He set his paper and pen down in a rustling movement.



“It’s not how it works, I can’t call them like dogs, and sometimes people have a spirit lingering around them, sometimes they don’t.” Sasha stood up once more. The shuffling of his feet indicated he was blocking her from the door with his body.


“No one comes forward for you, I am sorry.” Henry’s dry skin made a gentle crackle as he smirked,” Isn’t that convenient?”



“I need to leave.” She was being quite emphatic. Carlisle was out the door of his office so quickly he had to remind himself to slow down. He was not going to allow Henry to make this girl any more uncomfortable then she already was.

“Get out of my way.” The distinct noise of a struggle sounded from behind the flimsily fake wood door. Carlisle could hear Henry squeezing the tops of Sasha’s arm in an effort to keep her in the room.

“Hello Henry, Is there a problem here?” The words were friendly and Carlisle’s face was an artfully composed mask of calm, but the energy that radiated from him was pure anger. Like birds roused from the shelter of brush, both humans in the room sensed danger.  Carlisle had seen the reaction before, humans’ reptilian brain reacting before their reasoning kicked in. Always best not to sneak up on them.

Sasha stepped back from Henry. Carlisle expected to see her face indignant, angry or even scared having been held by this stranger against her will. But he saw resignation there. This wasn’t the first time someone had lost his or her composure with Sasha.

Carlisle stepped inside and shut the door behind him, glancing at the notes Henry had left on the coffee table.

. Good looking

.Well spoken

.Possible T.V. show like John Edward? Jewelry line, endorsed Bibles?

Carlisle almost chuckled at the audacity. This man was here thinking of marketing this woman. He was Dr. Phil meets Jerry Springer (he mentally kicked Emmett for watching that junk, he did not want to be able to make those analogies.) Henry didn’t care how much clinical help she needed.


Henry hardly looked in Carlisle’s direction. His attention and red face riveted on the woman he had been holding. “You see Miss Duncan, if you really could see ghosts, you would see my son. I was in a car accident when he was six and he was in the backseat. His last words were “Daddy, no.” So he would be here. Here would be here.” Every words snapped like a sheet drying in the wind. Henry’s hand gestures had gotten dramatic an angry.

“No, sir. I would not see your son.” She spoke gently despite Henry’s obvious rage. “I rarely see children’s spirits. They are pure innocence, when their life ends, their spirit has a tremendous job. The beautiful positive energy that leaves their body immediately goes to the hearts that loved them. He is the glue that holds your heart together, he does not need to move on. He is right where he belongs. To get comfort from him all you need to do is concentrate on his love.” Sasha waited to see how Henry would take the message.

Carlisle’s thought her speech was quite beautiful. She spoke with conviction and softness. Dealing in death and spirits seemed to come easily enough. If she was to be believed.

Henry left the room with out so much as a nod in Sasha’s direction.

Carlisle stepped in and off to the side, leaving the door ajar. He wanted Sasha to know she was free to leave. He was thinking of how to work in a recommendation for another Doctor while still seeming professional, when he watched Sasha’s eye slide to his left and focus there.

“Hi.” She was clearly not addressing him anymore.

“Father? I can’t see how that is possible.” She was arguing to a space next to him as if it was a person.

Carlisle was starting to wonder if Henry wasn’t better at his job then originally thought. The girl seemed to be cracking up.

“I will give him the message.” Sasha whispered this last part like a prayer or a secret.


Carlisle assessed her as he would any patient. Her murky green eyes were equal and properly dilated. He could hear her heartbeat, and that was a nice rhythmic, healthy sound.  He sniffed the air, his acute vampire sense of smell can actually smell certain maladies, such as high cholesterol or cancer. She smelled fine. Her hair was long, dark blonde and very shiny, looking at hair was a holdover from the time when he actually was a human. You could tell a surprising amount from hair condition. Judging from her body, the yoga breath came from regular practice that made her long and lean.


She put those murky green eyes on his. The reluctance in her body language was unmistakable.

“Dr. Cullen, I have a message for you from an very antique spirit claiming to be your father.” She said simply.

It takes a lot to shock a 400 year old vampire, but Sasha had certainly succeeded in shocking him.




 Author's aside~ I will be discussing more of Sasha'a past and how Edward get involved in a few chapters between this one and Chapter 1...I am posting and writing, probably a horrible idea..

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Chapter 2 Naked, New Vampire

This is a fan fiction story set pre Twilight. All is property of Stephenie Meyer. 

There is some light cursing. Please do not read any further if that upsets you!!! 

All characters, settings and Twilight related stuff belong to author Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One

Drink You Alive




Eyes are open.

Only darkness.



Oh God.



Where was I? A coffin. It must be.

Please. Please. The burning. The inside of my body is burning slowly. Hot, red coals on the inside. My blood is turning to lava.


My voice won’t come out. Help! I call in my head.

Panting. I won’t reach out my hands. What will I touch? It could be anything.






Satin of my coffin.


Please no coffin.



Time passed. I was sure of it. I opened my eyes. The black was dulling. My eyes seemed better at seeing. That can't be.


I am not breathing. I must be dead. But I am moving. Where did my heartbeat go? I felt all the fear in my heart before.

The dim shades of light comfort me. I feel strong. I listen. I hear gentle whispering next to me, above me.

Bits of. ..conversation…No not conversation. One way thoughts.

The murmuring makes no sense. So many voices. They seem to be getting louder.


The panic of the enclosed space surrounds me. I need to find my voice and scream. For help.


All at the same time I scream out and kick my feet. The door to my enclosure flies open. I hush my screaming just as quick. I hear the door slam against a wall. I quickly scurry out. So fast. How am I standing here already?


Looking around the room. I have only seen a place like this on TV.

The morgue.

The doors are like stacks of mini fridges.



I feel the hunger in my throat threatening to drive me insane. Unless I already am. 


I am naked. Except for the toe Tag with “Sasha Duncan” printed in Ariel font. 


The voices from in the mini fridges get louder, Confused voices. They are not sure where they are. 

I snatch a lab coat from the hook by the door and button it up. Scrub pants come out of the laundry hamper marked “Biohazard” by the door.


I sit right there on the concrete floor with the drain in it.

I need to remember.

Where was I?

Before this place.

Back when my heart was beating.


I didn’t feel dead.


I pushed my fingers into my throat searching for a pulse. No luck. I tried at my wrist.




Everything that used to flutter under my skin had stilled.


Remembering was my only tool to sanity.


It had been New Year’s Eve. Of course. I was invited to a party in the city. Karen had an apartment she shared with a few coworkers from the design agency.

“My roommate's brother is coming” Karen taunted me with a singsong voice over the phone.


Maybe the cop I had a crush on would need some lips to kiss when the clock struck 12:00.


“I’ll be there early to help you set up.”

After spending the morning cleaning the apartment with Karen and her roommates, we opened the door to the catering company we had all chipped in for.


Karen and I fluffed and prepped while the caterers set to work preparing hors d'oeuvres and a bar.   We got a good hard laugh at the similar dresses we had picked out for the night.  They were short and black with a white sash around our waists, inspiring us to take a picture of ourselves. The night held so much promise.


How did I go from a friend filled party to sitting on a morgue floor holding my toe tag?

My brain seemed reluctant. Like it was refusing to reveal a horror. I held my hands over my ears to block out the whispers from the freezers on the wall.

I remember when the cop, Derek, walked in. I could feel the butterflies.


I won’t say anything stupid this time. I prompted myself. He arrived without a date. His eyes searched the room until he found me. Before I could glance away, he caught me looking. He smiled his beautiful white smile, revealing his adorable dimples. The night was looking up.


After a few drinks and a few dances with Derek, I met up with Karen on my way to the bathroom.  She dragged me into her room for some girl talk. Her boyfriend had shown up and she thought he had a ring box in his pocket. We squealed and turned into a hopping, hugging tangle of arms.


By the time I got back to the living room, Derek was waiting with a glass of champagne. The dimples were out to get me again. We toasted. I knew I was blushing.


The clock was inching towards midnight. Feeling three glasses of champagne bold, I spun on my heel and headed for the balcony. Derek would follow, I was almost positive. I set my glass down and looked up at the sky.


Too bad you can’t see the stars in the city.

I don’t know what compelled me to do it. But I looked down the building towards the road.

And then.


And then.


God, what was that! Crawling up the building like a spider. A blurry, fast spider. Before my brain could translate into a scream he was on me. The door to the balcony was shut with his hand securing it that way. His other hand held my throat.


“Breathe” he said “I want to drink you alive.”

Drink me Confusion, disbelief, but the most visceral reaction I had was fight.


I could hear Derek banging on the balcony door.


“Open the Door! This is the Police”


The drunk police I thought stupidly.



I started to kick his shin, at the same time I poked him in the eye. His eyelid shut immediately and my useless, jabbing finger felt like I was poking a piece of metal.


“That’s right baby, fight me. Make me earn it.” His voice was calm and buttery. He was enjoying this. His eyes were blood red. What was wrong with his eyes?


“I wonder why you are so important to them. Imperative they find you.”


I knew. One thing was different about me. The rest was the same as any other girl my age.


He must have seen the recognition in my eyes.

 “You know Bitch. Tell me. Right now.” He was giddy with anticipation all the while holding my throat.


His demonic eyes sparkled with interest. He was so beautiful. How could something so gorgeous radiate such death.


“Playing hard to get? How bout this, you tell me and I don’t kill every single person in this room behind you.” His smile was so wide it made his teeth look huge.


I had never told a soul. I could never tell anyone. But Karen, her soon to be fiancé, and Derek were in that room. Sweet Derek, who was trying to break down the door with a chair at that very moment.


I motioned to my throat and my silent mouth. He understood and loosened his grip.


“I will tell you, but not near them.” My voice was so scratchy and harsh.

“Fine.” He snapped.

I was on his rock hard shoulder like a sack of potatoes in a blink. I watched as my cute black heels slid from my feet to clatter to the road so far below me.


We were climbing up the side of the building. No ropes. I knew he wasn’t human. I knew he was evil. I started to sob cry as we reached the roof of the building. He took off running (or was it flying?). I felt the jolt when he launched himself across to the roof of the building next door.


He set me down again.


“Talk.” He no longer felt the need to hold my throat. I wanted to be braver. I had gotten him away from my friends. They had time to get away. But would they? This thing in front of me was the grim reaper on crack.


He tensed, closed his eyes and took a massive breath through his nose. His red eyes rolled in their sockets before he fixed them on me.

“We are not alone.”

I turned to run. He wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked me back. I felt his vice grip across my chest as he tilted my head using my hair.



He put his ice cold lips to my jaw and licked his way down to my neck.


I could feel the bite. My neck. The teeth were so sharp, it didn’t even hurt. At first.  Then the sucking began. I could feel all the blood draining.


I could move my arms. But they were numb and tingling. Everything. All at once. Numb. I grabbed onto his arm to keep from collapsing. He was sucking and murmuring sweet nothings.  We looked to all the world like lovers. His icy cold body felt nice, taking some of the pain from my skin.


Would he drink every drop?

Vampire. He was a vampire. Oh God. I could feel the force of his decision so deeply. I was to be ingested. My blood, my soul. Everything. Maybe I would be inside out by the time he was done.


When he was hit, it was the sound of boulders colliding.

I found myself cradled in a pair of cold arms. I peered through my eyes to see what I was facing.


A different man. “He’s gone, for now.” Looking up at this face I saw compassion. Gold eyes seemed to be assessing my injuries.


The burning started at my neck. If I could crawl, I would find my stalker to finish the job. I needed to get out of this body as much as possible. A lot. Now.

Being held by him felt like being next to a drafty window in the winter. I could feel the cold reaching out to touch me.


“The police are coming. I am so sorry Sasha, I did not arrive in time. Listen to my words.”


Like I have  a choice. I was dying. I could not even move my lips.


“I don’t need your lips for me to hear you. You will undergo a change. I will get to you as soon as I can. Don’t kill anyone.’


I am afraid, I thought.


“It will hurt, I am not going to lie to you. But the pain will come to an end.”


You can hear my thoughts?


I closed my eyes.


“Yes.” He said it quietly.


He threatened my friends. Can you keep them safe? I desperately tried to keep from blacking out to hear his answer.


“I will protect them” his vow was so earnest, I had to believe him.


Then the cold was gone. His cradling arms had laid me on the roof.


And then nothing.


Back sitting on the floor of the morgue. I could piece it together. If I pretended I was stark raving mad and all the stupid fairy tales I’d heard as a child were true.


Then I was a vampire now. Because I wasn’t dead.


Well that sucks.


I knew from my thirst that I wanted something. I have never before craved red sludge with an iron after taste. But now I did. I wanted it more then anything.


This had to be a dream. I punched myself in the face. It was like trying to stop a train with my nose. I heard the sickening crunch of my cheek bones, and anything else that was important to my facial structure. I stood up and could see the reflection of me in the one way mirror that dominated most of the wall.. My hair looked great. My face, on the other hand looked like a human pug.


Great. Not only is this not a dream, but also I managed to make myself the ugliest vampire in the world with minutes of coming to my senses.

As I watched the face before me uncrumpled. I could feel the bones knitting back together like a sponge regaining it’s shape after being squeezed.


Soon I was staring at my face again. Not my face really. The face you picture just before you look in the mirror. No freckles, pimples or weird sloops. The perfect version of my face.

I wanted to eat. I wanted to run through the walls of this hospital all Fred Flintstone, leaving me shaped holes in my wake.


Until I could silence a heart.


I looked at the wooden chair to my left. As soon as I thought about it, my body reacted. I was holding a jagged piece of the chair. I grabbed it with both of my hands.

I knew what I was. Right away, I could feel the changes to my cells, my moral compass. I would make excuses for the dead bodies. I would never put someone alive in an ambulance. If I knew anything about myself, it was that I had an addictive personally. If I tried a meal and I liked it, I would make it every day until I couldn’t look at it anymore. I would listen to my favorite song over and over.


And this wanting to stop a heart was so powerful; I knew I would never stop. Ever. I would kill.


I grabbed my make shift stake and jammed it into my chest.

I waited. It was uncomfortable. I could tolerate it, but I sure didn’t like it.

When the door flew open, I was crouched and snarling before the light from the hall had streamed into the room.


In front of me stood another vampire.


“Well that won’t work” He said in a condescending tone. “Forget silver, crosses, garlic too.”


I recognized the voice.


From the dying night. He could hear my thoughts that night. I wonder if he could still.


“Yes, I can.” He immediately responded in a totally emo put upon way.

“I am not Emo”

Wow. He was really cute.


Again with the bored look.

He strode up to me purposefully.


He was so unexpected in my little morgue wakemare, I did not know what his intention was.

Kiss I thought in a panic.


What does my breath smell like after being dead? I bet my armpits smell like a dead skunk’s ass.


He started out and out laughing. I noticed belatedly that he had pulled the stake out of my chest. I had noticed the relief, like picking a wedgie, but now I saw only the Lab jacket had a hole. I no longer did.


“You have a funny head”

“You should have seen it right after I punched myself” I grabbed my throat. Shocked. I recalled this feeling, when you suck on a helium balloon, and your voice gets all chipmunky.

But instead of chipmunk I was rocking sultry, scratchy woman voice.



He stopped laughing and looked searchingly into my eyes.



“Your change is different. I don’t think your throat completely healed”

He stepped closer again.

“Your breath is fine. And I don't know what a skunk's hind end smells like anyway.”

He rolled a set of Amber golden eyes towards the ceiling.

“Would you mind very much if I touched your neck?”

I nodded my consent and moved my hands.

What could he possibly do? Kill me?


His hands rested on my neck, while his thumbs caressed the front of my throat. The shiver went down my spine

“Sorry, that might be a sensitive part for you for a while, considering how you went.”



You mean how I was killed. I thought in his direction.

‘I was not fast enough. I was trying to read his thoughts and he sent me mixed messages.”

This guy seemed polite. His reasoning tinged with as much emotion as a bored telemarketer. He could really care less, just doing his job. Was he my vampire aide or something?

He inclined his head. Agreeing with my thoughts. God that was creepy. He gave me a stern look.


“Listen, If I am reading your thoughts right, you are clinging to the last vestiges of reason you had as a human. I am Edward Cullen, I have been sent here to help you with your transition.”


I almost laughed. He sounded so clinical.

“Well, I do have a few medical degrees.”

For humans or monsters?

Before he could answer, my emotions got the best of me. Like the crack of a whip, the word “Monster” on my psyche filled my body with shame and anger. I did not want this.


My thoughts were beginning to change. Colors, blocks of colors filled with needs. The blocks shuffled in front of my eyes like a view master toy. It settled on red.

Red. Feed. Red.

I turned to the exit and pushed the metal door aside like a curtain. Bare foot, I began stomping. Edward was in front of me. Still trying to talk quickly.


“Ok, you are really strong right now, all newborn vampires are. And you want to eat. I understand. My family, we only eat animals. Not humans. It’s an option you might want to consider.”


I began running. Edward remained in front of me running backwards without glancing to see where he was headed.


I could feel my mind settling itself into gear. Feed. Now. Find Blood. Silence a heart.

I saw doubt flit across his handsome and young face. How old was this kid anyway? This child needed to clear a path before I hurt him.


The night was quiet. The city morgue was in the center of the well laid out buildings. All tall. Alleys were calling to me. I could sense I would find success. Homeless people that could not even begin to fight.

He kept talking.

“You don’t have to worry about a fight, you won’t have one. You could over power almost anything on the planet right now. Including me.”

A smile touched my thirsty eyes.

“You wouldn’t enjoy my blood. It would be like trying to dilute water with more water. My body may look young, but I have been around long enough to know how to easily put an end to you.”

I stopped in my tracks.


I don’t want to be a murderer. And I don’t want to eat animals. Before I died I was a vegetarian. The thought of killing a defenseless animal hurt me where my heart used to be. And yet this child feels that is a good option.


“17. I am 17 not really a child. Please remember your moods will be very changeable. And vicious.” He was trying to convey so much in a short period of time.


I am 22, that makes me your elder, hot shot. Go home and do some homework. Mama’s got some murdering to do. I looked into his eyes while I thought.


Edward stopped talking. He seemed to take on the roll of silent, scientific observer. I had trouble shaking the feeling that I had let him down.

I looked to my left. The storefront reflected what I was. A bare footed, half dressed, crazed lady. My eyes were pure black.


I noticed behind the glass, a stack of chocolate truffles. A candy store! All painted in whimsical colors. Looking garishly normal. I stepped up to the glass and put my hand through it. The noise was so much louder to these vampire ears. I could distinctly hear each shard of glass tinkling on the concrete sidewalk.

I grabbed a handful of chocolates and stuffed them into my mouth, trying to abate the need to feed. I happened to see his face as I tried to wrap my jaws around the giant ball of chocolates in my hand.


There was a sparkle of amusement.

Quit staring at me like I am a freak show.

One eyebrow shot up.

I tried to gag down the ball. A phantom impulse compelled me to fill my lungs with air. I felt the panic seep into my eyes.

I am choking! Do the Heimlich or something!

“Breathe through your nose, Einstein.” He could not keep the snarkyness out of his golden voice.

And I did. And I was fine.

“We don’t need to breathe, as a rule.” His crooked little smile letting me know he was not worried about my faux choking.

 I felt stupid. It was like thinking you were drowning in 8 inches of water, and then standing up like a big chooch in ankle high water.


“Chooch? Is that even a word?”

Shut up and help me. I am stuck. This giant ball of chocolate is freezing into a solid.

“Well your core temperature is acting much like a freezer would.” He pointed out in his very scholarly sounding voice.

Great. A know it all 17 year old. We really need a few more of those in the world. 

“Well, you just made the decision for me.” Edward whipped out his cell phone and snapped a picture of my chocolate ball catastrophe.  I was waving my hands around my face in distress.


He walked up and placed one of his long fingered hands on my forehead and whacked the back of my head with the other. The chocolate ball shot out of my mouth and lodged in the back wall of the candy shop.


“For future reference, your jaws are just as strong as the rest of you. Bite down next time.” He shook his head in amazement. “Why do I feel like this won’t be the last time this happens to you?” His gorgeous white teeth sparkled as grinned.

“So there was no need for the head wacking? Nice. Freaking nice. It hurt by the way.”

He was too busy setting the chocolate picture he seemed so proud of as his wallpaper on his cell phone."No, it didn't"

I resisted the urge to say, "Yes, it did" and stick out my tongue.

I snatched the phone out of his hands. I meant to take off running when I felt him slam me into the brick of the candy shop building. I quickly crushed the cell phone into a squished up silver play dough art. I felt better.

He whispered with satisfaction “I sent that picture to all my cell phones”


I shot daggers with my eyes, which I bet were still all creepy and black.

He nodded. His eyes seemed to lose their focus. Then he sighed.


“Well, your little PMS craving set off a silent alarm, the police are on their way.”

PMS sounds all pansy when you say it in your proper, old fashioned voice.

I was noticing the dent we had left in the brick building. Brick. We dented brick!


And then all reason left me. I could feel my eyes roll into my head. I took a deep, thick breath. I could smell it. I could hear it. Heartbeat. Human. Feed.

Oh God.