I do not own Twilight

The Song is Mr Brightside by The Killers and Stockholm syndrome by Muse

They inspired this.

Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, letting me go
And I just can't look - it's killing me
And taking control

And she'll scream
And she'll shout
And she'll pray
And she had a name
Yeah she had a name

His Last Gift

A growl ripped through me, sounding oddly chocked in my human form. My hands shook, I saw red.

A real honeymoon?!

What was she thinking?

Was she really that deluded? But this was Bella, of course she was. She couldn't see sense and reason with him around, he poisoned her like a drug.

I wished, with all my heart that she hadn't meant it, that it was just a sadistic joke. But I knew it wasn't.

I had heard Bella say that it was none of my business what that monster did to her once before. And she hadn't been joking then either.

Had she actually convinced herself that the Thing she was marrying wouldn't hurt her the first opportunity he got? That he was even capable of not hurting her when they...ughh! No, no, no!

My knuckles tightened and the branch I was holding snapped off, I let it fall to the floor and clenched my teeth together repulsed. I could hear Seth and Sam still in their wolf form a few yards away. They wouldn't be going anywhere unless I went with them, until I was in control again.

I couldn't handle phasing, not yet. Just for once I needed my thoughts to be my own. Not to have to hear about how it was 'none of my businesses and how it was 'her choice'. I couldn't take that now. I felt vibrations rack my body and I struggled to keep my form in check.

Of course she believed his empty reassurances. She would let him gloss over, whisper in her ear. She would look in his eyes with such blind devotion, in the way that filled my heart with icy fear and she would let herself be deceived. She wanted to believe it. And it would be the death of her.

And I could see it, all in my head. I desperately didn't want to.

The situation, the position she put herself in wouldn't dawn upon her until it was too late. Until she was backed against a wall, seeing the sharp eyes of a predator leering back at her. Seeing him, through the fa├žade , for the first time. Feeling his, unbreakable ice grip restraining her- would she scream? Or would it be too quick for that?

Filthy bloodsucker!

By then it would be too late. Would she realize then- an inch from death? Or would she continue to fool herself until the end? Cry out in shock when the crushing blackness came or the knives slashed at her throat?

One lust or the other- it didn't matter.

He would crush the life from her.

Would he draw it out? They were sadistic creatures. Would he play with her like a feral cat with a mouse? Pretend to give her what she wanted, just before he gave in and crushed her body in a fit of sick lust? Her life not registering against his own lewd desires.

My frame racked violently, the world around me blurred. I ground my teeth, forcing my self to hold still as snarls escaped uncontrolled.

He was the ancient, decrepit creature, who skulked in the sinister, dank cloisters greedily lusting at the young heroine girl. Grinning murderously as he emerged from the pits of hell to tempt her down with him. And it was sick and so very wrong. This girl was vibrant, full of life- beautiful. This girl deserved a happily ever after, a fulfilling, changing life.

She needed a hero to save her. I should have saved her while I had the chance. Now the damsel of this story was intoxicated and called the grotesque creature 'husband'. And it was so wrong that it should end like this. The beautiful girl obliviously walking to what she thought was her happily ever after hand in hand with the twisted creature, towards her death.

It was wrong, sick! It shouldn't have happened this way!

I had failed. Even when I had given it my all, to save her life. But it was so much harder, when the damsel of the story didn't realize she needed saving. All to no avail.

Would he return here? Alone, arrogant, unabashed. With a swagger and a rueful grin, perhaps slightly irritated, that he'd lost the game? Her life would be violently cut short, but he, the disgusting murderer would continue in life.

UGH! Would even remember her name in ten years? Would he have moved on already, the next pretty target sighted, the next game begun?

I hoped to God he would return here and then I wouldn't let it get that far. I could do that much for Bella, to make sure that her death would be the last. I would rip the blood sucking fiend apart and I would relish it. I would watch him burn.

I heard a cheer erupt from the wedding as I glimpsed him, through the thicket, leading Bella to the car. She grinned, ignorant but blissful at the creature smiling down at her. The little, black haired leach laughed and clapped her hands. The charade made me nauseous; they knew damn well how this would end!

Yet they fawned over Bella, weaving false ideas of a stone, cold future for her. Maybe they even believed it themselves a little. But I knew, as I glimpsed Bella duck into the car, that I was seeing her for the last time. My heart constricted with grief. But she wanted it. I couldn't save her when she so adamantly would not be saved. And I loved her fiercely, even as I let her go.

I would not see her again, but I would see him. I would hunt him to the ends of the earth for what he was going to do. She would be his last victim.

My wedding gift to her.

So? How was it? I was trying to portray how Jacob saw Edward. Because although we all know Edwards mind is forever 17 along with his body, I felt that Jacob would still see it as this creepy, old thing coveting a young and innocent Bella

I never thought I'd write something from Jake's point of view! How did you think it went? Please just take the time to comment quickly!