A/N: This is the second of my requests that I'm doing. This is for a friend on deviantART. I'm currently suspended. -.- For the usual. dA doesn't like lemons.

Thanks to my awesome Beta, Kitschisme

The shadows called to me in endearing ways. The searing pain that echoed through my entire being was the sole comfort that kept me aimlessly walking through the darkened alleyways. Painful little images flitted through my head, and because I was a masochist I let them eat me alive. There was no better feeling than letting my misery eat me from the inside out.

In all honesty, there was no feeling. I was numbed over, if not for my flawless senses that I ignored. I hated myself more than anything. Had my father not shared his countless ways of death, I'd have ended the pain long ago.

The heat from the sun was all around, but my heat, my sun was gone. It wasn't coming back for the remainder of my damned existence. My fists clenched at the thought, the first physical action that I'd actually noticed in weeks.

I'd walked from place to place, not caring who saw me, but still intone enough to avoid where I shouldn't be. I had been feeding less and less, starving myself for being so pitiable. It was painful.

The rippling burn of thirst in my throat was constantly nagging at me. Feed me! Feed me! Like starving orphans begging their caretaker. But my thirst was worse, it threatened to take reign over me and attack anything with a steady pulse.

With each wave of fire down my throat I was reminded of the beast I truly was. No, I'd let it starve and teach it a lesson. I would rather die than feed again, nothing was more degrading. The thought of attacking a savage animal no better than myself was disgusting in my mind, even though my body was trying to shift into a crouch at the very thought.

This was why I was miserable.

I let someone get close to me and I couldn't even control the demon inside of me. I sounded like a sick mental patient, but this was truly real, taking a physical form every time I needed nourishment. Nothing could justify my murders.

And yet… someone had easily looked past that… too easily. How could someone look past such a hideous flaw as murder? There was no looking past it unless they'd lost all sense of self-preservation. And I sincerely missed that lacking sense.

The pocket to my sweatpants buzzed while I walked aimlessly. I'd told my family not to call unless it was an emergency. I was tempted to just keep walking – and I did – but after twenty minutes of non-stop vibrating, I moved to the small alcove on the side of the Nigerian market.

So sad was I that I had gone half way across the world to avoid someone. I gave some coins to the small children who ran around and moved to the back of a poorly sheltered and withered market cart.

This place reminded me that there were, indeed, people who had it worse than me. I'd seen young women walking on the arm of an old man, wishing they had the freedom to choose who they would marry. Mothers wept on their doorstep for sickly children. These sights made the monster inside me roar in appreciation, but my conscience was stronger.

I pulled the tiny silver phone from my pocket before looking at the LCD screen. Rosalie. I sighed, not being up to having anger flow through me. I preferred the company of numbness. I flipped up the phone's top and held it to my ear.

Rosalie started without any greeting. "Edward! Thank God I got to you!" Her voice was guarded, a slight air of sadness and approval. I knew her so well, that vein streak was coming out. Anything that elated Rosalie scared me.

"What?" I mumbled, feigning annoyance, but at the same time curious. I wanted good news, but I knew that the slight quivering in my stomach since this afternoon was a sign.

"It's Alice , she saw something." Rosalie paused. "It was about Bella." Her name brought a straight jolt to my spine. All the venom in my body surged through me at a new pace, the numbness no longer visible.

A growl ripped through my teeth and I shut the phone. I told her not to look for her! I explicitly told Alice not to go and see anything revolving around the state of Washington . I fell to the ground, my back to the wall and my legs spread out in front of me. I had to control the raging emotions that poured through me. Calming breaths didn't help.

My phone continued to buzz on the ground. I grabbed it and resisted the strong urge to snap it. Even though I wanted to kill both myself and Rosalie, I needed to hear about her. I was, after all, masochistic.

"Don't say her name." I hissed. I stared at an old brick wall and put all my energy on concentrating on the small line of mold seeping through the bricks. The wall could have crumbled to pieces with the force I used.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Her voice was not an apology of her recent mistake, but the news that she was bearing. I glared harder at the wall and clenched the hand that wasn't holding the phone to my ear.

"Just say it!" I growled, no longer interested in playing games.

"She's dead, Edward." I went stock still, my eyes popping open. The fluttering in my stomach became a swirl. My teeth bared themselves and it took all my strength not to smash the phone.

Rosalie kept rambling, unaware to my shock and rampaging thoughts. The beast inside me roared and smashed through my system. All this time I'd been nothing but the better, and now with her gone, with her… dead, what was the point?

What was the point?

A keening left my throat and Rosalie stopped talking immediately. My eyes closed; unshed tears stinging at the lids of my eyes. I whimpered again, this time it was followed by a growl.

"Edward, what's wrong?" Rosalie asked panicked.

"Tell me what happened." I ordered. It didn't matter that she was speaking about Bella. I wanted to be nearer, and though, surely, we would be separated by two worlds even in death, I wouldn't live without her… not anymore.

" Alice saw her jump." She said vaguely. I growled again and she started to talk. "Bella jumped off a cliff by the beaches. Alice saw her go under… but she didn't come up."

I dropped the phone to the ground, not wanting to hear anymore. Why? Why was I damned to this life? I couldn't be near anyone without harming them. I choked out a sob, my body shaking and wanting to wretch every drop of blood I'd ever ingested.

I picked up the phone, desperate and panicked, and dialed her number with hurtful recognition. How many times had I done this and pressed the end button? I hit the send button, though. The painful ringing sounded in my ear.

"Hello?" It was a male's voice. It was deep, almost sounding angry. I swallowed and impersonated my father the best of ability.

"Hello, this is Dr. Cullen." It was shaky, but no human ears would be able to distinguish a difference. "Is Chief Charlie Swan there?"

I held my breath while the voice barked out to me, "He's at the funeral."

"Thank you," I whispered, hanging up the phone. I pulled my knees to my chest and started to rock back and forth.

The physical movement that comforted me as a child held no security in my stone body. I breathed in deeply, scared to move. Surely everything would come crashing down… and it did.

I saw her face, those scarlet cheeks, those large, doe eyes. Her white skin, so pliant in my indestructible hand. The way she would stumble, only to have me catch her, those same cheeks filling sweet delicious blood…

I stood up, running at the speed of light. No human could see me in the shadows. I avoided the sunlight, moving quickly and decisively. My trail led me to a forest five miles from the town. The sick silence made me cry out in a wild roar.

I reared my fist into a large oak and it came tumble down with a snap. The sickly deafening noise made me punch another. The snaps and twists reminded me of breaking human bone.

I imagined myself as the tree before me. I sneered and snarled at it, punching directly through the bark and into the tree. I hit it again… and again… and again, until the tree – the largest in the desolate forest – came crashing down.

Nothing could make the wretched, disgusting feeling go. I didn't want it to; I wanted to suffer in every possible way. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed my cracked phone and flipped it open.

"Operatour." The African accented woman answered.

"I need you to connect me to the Nigerian Airport ." I nearly moaned. The horrible music played over the line, each second that went by made my stomach tighten in knots.

"How may I help you sir?"

I looked up at the sky and closed my eyes. "I'd like to purchase a ticket to Italy ."

A/N: I've been meaning to do something like this for a while. I always wondered what it would be like on the other end. I think a lot of people understand Edward a little better since Midnight Sun, but I still adore that self-loathing and malevolent side of him, hence the title.