|Who Will Hit the Hardest?
Author: Burnsides-Girl PM
Rosalie always thought her life was perfect with Emmett, but what if he has secrets of his own? Will she be able to live with the betrayal of her loved one, and what she has to do? One shot! VERY DARK POWERFUL ROSE! AU/AV Rated M for violence.Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Tragedy - Rosalie - Words: 2,531 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 05-17-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5978878
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is a new one shot that I have been working on for a while. It's short, buts very interesting…or at least I think it is!
I got the idea for this while I was on a plain coming home from California. I was listening to the radio and these four songs played: Innocence by Avril Lavigne, Battlefield by Jordin Sparks, Maybe we're not meant to be by Theory of a Dead Man, Don't leave me by Pink.
These four songs inspired me to write this dark fic about Rosalie. When I picture her, I see an angry angel out for revenge. Someone who is so strong they are willing to kill for their rights. So I decided to would write something like this…
Summary: Rosalie always thought her life was perfect with Emmett, but what if he has secrets of his own? Will she be able to live with the betrayal of her loved one, and what she has to do? DARK ROSE! AU/AV
I am not going to say who Emmett has a secret involving…I guess you will just have to keep reading and find out! You won't find out until mid-way through anyways. That part doesn't even really matter that much just read and I hope you get it!
I hope you like my darker side; I never knew I had it until I started writing this…
Let's get this show on the road!
"Present fears are less than horrible imaginings. My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, shakes so my single state of man that function is smothered in surmise, and nothing is but what is not." ~Macbeth,1.3.150-155.
"Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark to cry 'Hold, hold!'" ~Macbeth, 1.5.57-61.
A fire blazing behind me, it is prepared to burn.
My enemy in front of me, tempting me to make the kill.
They cringe at the red fury they see very clearly in my once topaz eyes. My fire eyes burn their long dead unbeaten hearts. My once healed heart has been ripped apart by these two sad excuses for existence. It's pathetic…
Adultery, the most evil of betrayals a husband could commit to his wife, mate, or loved one.
If I had a heart that beat and could pump the luscious blood my body so badly craves, I may be dead form it's sudden halt. It stops from the realization that I have been so ignorantly ignoring.
The sly looks and seductive stares, makes the venom in me turn murderous. I crave their pain, for they have caused me non-but utter sorrow wreaked by their disgusting indecency.
My heart, dead and yet more broken from this loss of love. The love I had for my mate, destroyed from this disgusting tramp who skanked her way into my husband's pants, and from what I've seen, his heart as well.
My love, the one who holds the secrets to my depression and jealousy, which stands in front of me, whimpering for the death that is awaiting him.
The woman who is huddled on the ground behind him, sobbing for being discovered. She is the one who began this all. She, frightened for her ultimate doom.
My husband. The one who stole the one thing I trusted myself to know was true. Yet, I have been wronged, I have been lied to and still the fire burns, red and stronger than ever.
The pain that has been inflicted onto me is more than bone crushing; it is a soul burning hell.
A frightening shrill scream erupts from my throat, causing the blazing red to burn almost black with death, the death of betrayal. The sky's clouds turn red with my wrath. The murderous wrath that will burn through these soulless bodies and take their eternity furiously from them.
"You have done the wrong that should never have been." My voice, foreign to me. It is cold and has a dead connotation that makes even me shiver in fear and anticipation for what is to come.
Emmett's large frame shook and he let out a sob of burning pain. I lift my stone hand to midair and strike my razor nails through the ash-filled air.
Four defined streaks appear upon Emmett's beautiful face. Lines of his venom roll down his open cheek.
I cringe in disgust, for I have never seen my love's venom look so appalling to me.
He is crying out from the sheer pain of my hit. He falls. He lies on the ground continuously crying out for forgiveness and mercy.
Next is the pathetic whore who is dry sobbing on the ground looking vulnerable and open for my assailing. I am upon her in mere milliseconds, and ripping her dead heart straight from her stone chest.
She screeches from the pain of having her marble body ripped open by my razor-sharp claws. Venom freely flows to the grass aside her quivering body. Scorching fire arises from where her loathful body is wrenched open.
Emmett shouts and runs at me, but his legs quickly become erupted with flames. He falls to the ground; both with matching screams that continuously rise.
The powerful screams are almost strong enough to awaken the evil that creeps above them, watching as they suffer, approvingly. For these two strayed souls disserve the agony that are so rightfully receiving.
From my stone, cold, frightened mind, they burn before me. I watch as they skulk towards each other, but the vile I feel blares from me, surrounding them in circles of death. Black flames encase them as they cry to the Vampire Lords to save them from their fateful hell.
The pained looks that are etched into their frigid stony faces, the screaming of a burning soul, the smell of venom; it is pure evil running through the thick fog of their death.
This picture, the one before me, lightens the blow of my hearts glass-shattering break.
In the far background, there are sounds of furious stepping coming through the forest, rushing through to get to me. I burn the fire more, and it finally consumes their entire beings.
Dark curls and strawberry blond heads of my enemy are left in ashes in front of me.
Their death has come along with an adrenalin rush and a joyful rejoice fills my non-blood-pumping veins. This feeling makes me hyper at the thought of freedom.
Freedom from Emmett and Tanya, the ones who have wronged me.
Their wrongs have been redeemed and forgiven with their lives. My justice is sound, but to most, it must seem evil and foul. What I have done is generous, for what could have become of their soulless beings is far worse. By killing them both, they shall have each other in the hereafter.
I was merciful.
The fire is gone.
My fury, silenced.
My mind is at ease.
My heart, in pieces.
I am crumbing on the dead ground, my dead heart pulsing against my stone dead ribs. The pain of loss trickles in and burns away my resolve.
My family surrounds me: Esme, my mother; Carlisle, my father and sire; Jasper and Edward, my brothers; Alice and Bella, my sisters.
I have hurt these honest souls.
My brothers lift me from the lifeless ground and run my distraught body to our house.
Away from the field, the field where I murdered my love and his mistress.
My mind goes numb, the loss of love and trust is gone. My entire world burns in front of my eyes, never ceasing.
I look to the faces of my caretakers: Jasper's face is twisted into an angry scowl. He looks as if he wants to cry and die at the same time.
Edward's figure is stiff as if he really was a statue. A beautifully pained statue that can no longer read my mind.
My evil thoughts are hidden from his senses, he is unable to read my disgusting mind. I am a murderer. He is not the monster I am. His untouched mind cannot be exposed to the evilness that is inside me.
What have I become?
I sit alone amongst my thoughts.
I relive my actions repeatedly.
The vision of my destruction never fades. It becomes increasingly darker as I imagine the pain I have inflicted.
A presence behind me knocks me out of my infectious regime. A stone ice hand places itself on my shoulder in a calming and loving gesture.
"You did what had to be done. You have been merciful my dear sister; tell me why are you grieving?" Bella asked.
I know I had done nothing wrong, but merciful? Was that the correct word to describe my actions? Was I merciful? Merciful would have been to allow them to have continued their sordid affair. Let them continue with their existence in love and harmony, but my anger raged in and burned a whole through my body, forcing the revenge and the hostile reactions. Although it seems wrong, this was just revenge for my broken heart and my broken virtue.
I may not have been 'merciful', but I was fair.
They caused me pain I never wanted to feel again, the feeling of being used and humiliated by your own loved ones. They struck my greatest fear and laughed at my despair.
I chuckled darkly.
They got what was right. They may not have gotten the chance to explain, but it was clear; they may not have intended to hurt me, but they failed, miserably.
"They struck my soul, the place I hid my fears. My fears of being unwanted. I was fair."
"Fair? I agree. Merciful, no; fair, yes. They disserved to feel what they had done. They acted and they were punished. I honor your choice sister."
She disappeared like a ghost, a whisper in the wind, my conscience that leads me to the mark.
My wrong may have been painful, but the rightness of their punishment is clear.
Burn the burnt and you shall end up the burnt.
My sealed scars that I have so desperately attempted to close and hide, were ripped open by the one who chose to help close them.
The intender, Tanya, a friend of the family, a companion, a sister, cut through the binds of a venomous and painful love, to gain…what did she gain? Was she the beginning of the evil, the sly seductress who played her cards just to burn me? Me? Rosalie Annabelle Hale Cullen, the one whose life was taken without reason, but just some money and looks. An appearance I had not wished upon myself because I didn't want to become washed up or used, and yet my fate was set in stone. My entire existence, snapped, and left me broken and dying alone.
The beautiful golden angel who appeared above me, apologizing to me, then brought me pain that is more excruciating then what I had already received.
The pain of nails dragging through my skin as my bones turned to ash then burst into blistering flames.
The pain of venom taking my humanity and sanity away from me.
My life as a human may be disoriented and fuzzed, but the words I heard being spoken about me through the crack in the door that night before Royce and his friends killed me, will always be clear in my mind.
I knew once I was strong and in control that Royce and his buddies wouldn't last long, and the satisfaction of draining that disgusting pig was one of the highs of my early existence.
Everything I do, I do for a reason.
Fairness and justice that is what I live by.
The idea of going against ethics, morals, or humanity is wrong. It is a repulsive and brutal way to live your life. Why ruin something so precious that even the ones who rule you want it? The lords of the undead, the vampires of the world.
My way is the right way. The smart way to get through the difficult situations that the world may throw at us.
You must believe you are doing what is right.
You must believe in faith that the heart and mind can block out the world that threatens to cut you down. The world plays on our weaknesses, so you must not show you are weak. We must be the demon inside, we must be strong as diamonds, fast as death, and stealthily lethal.
You must become the unimaginable, the unwanted dangerous animal that wants to fight, that needs the pain to survive.
Protect yourself, but lose yourself in your madness and you've lost your own soul. The soul is golden, the one pure part of every being. When ripped away from its owner, the soul dies. You are left alone and insane. You would become unfunctional, the dead would actually be gone, and you would suffer.
What I did to Emmett and Tanya is merciful for how they could have remained alone and suffered the separation of 'mates'.
My madness may have won eventually and they would have had to suffer the consequences. Your heart is protected, but your mind is open and prepared for assimilation.
Resistance would be futile.
The idea of being left alone for the rest of my existence seems implausible and completely unfair. I am the one who initially suffered the loss and pain, but here I am, still suffering with no possible end ahead.
My once happy life will now be left to ashes, the ashes of my betrayal. They have left me to suffer, unwillingly but guilty nonetheless.
My heart will never be healed, not twice. Once was a miracle, twice would be improbable. A chance is given for redemption but once, come twice the chance is gone.
My happiness sacrificed for their justice, the forgiveness burns, their love lets fire come, and their deaths shed little light on my darkened heart.
Forever alone is my punishment.
My punishment for being so densely blind, they hid their affairs and I was too meek and content to say anything about any of my suspicions. I am ashamed by the idiot I have let myself become; my own pest has fooled me.
In the end, the stronger one stands.
Me, I stand alone, but I stand strong.
I'm done! Thank god! That was a lot of work and I'm so tired…
Thank you so much for reading this!
I know it wasn't long, but I wanted to see if I could have a dark side, well I kinda think I do…
It was written in an older times language for effect and because I thought it sounded better that way!
Please leave me a review and tell me what you all thought!