disclaimer: I own not Twlight, for Stephenie Meyer beith the owner of such things...

This is set after Eclipse... I think... I didn't really think about time. Point is Bella is human, and has never been knocked up, so ... yeah.

'Edward! Edward! Edward!'

Edward sighed dejectedly and looked over at his 'one true love.'

'Yes, Bella, what is it?'

Bella jumped up excitedly when Edward said her name and tripped her way over to the couch that he was seated upon.

'Well… I have been thinking.'

Rather than saying 'wow, I can't believe that. Finally, wish I had been there to mind read it.' He said


Bella giggled;

'Your voice sounds like felt.'

Edward rolled his eyes;

'Velvet, you mean velvet, Bella.'

Bella squinted and looked at the ceiling;

'But… Velvet is warm, and your cold… I know! Your voice sounds like silk!'

'My voice sounds like worm spit, why thankyou for that.'

Bella frowned.

'Worm spit? No, silk Edward. Silk. S I L K.'

'Bella, silk is made of worm spit. Silk worm spit.'

Bella stared off into the distance.

'Ahh… Back to the thought that I had. Do you remember the first year that you met me?'

Edward turned to frown at Bella, who was staring at him with a scary and slightly perverted intensity.

'Yes, Bella. Remember, my dead mind can somehow store infinite knowledge and memory.'

Bella opened her mouth;

'Sounds like worm spit…'

Edward slapped her apparently plain yet extremely beautiful face.

'Bella! Snap out of it!'

Edward's hand came away from the slap shiny with blood. He lifted his head, reflexively not breathing. There, three metres away (A/N that would be about 9.8 something feet for all you Americans…) Bella's body-less head was sliding smoothly down the pane of glass that constituted a wall. The body that belonged to the head on the window was still on the couch, slumped and bloody. As Edward stared at these two images he felt sorrow fill his lifeless, cold heart.

'I hit her too hard.'

He said the words to assure himself, to take control of the situation. As soon as he took control he lost it.

Carlisle walked into the living room after a hard day cutting up humans and either removing or inserting a vital organ. The bloody windows and floor greeted him, and Edward looked up from Bella's corpse.


Carlisle said the words slowly, as he watched his son suck upon Bella's still-warm blood that was streaming from her neck, where her head should have been.

'Edward. I want you to put Bella down now, please.'

Edward began shaking and sniffling.

'She would have wanted it this way. She always wanted me to have her.'

'I don't think she meant eat her Edward.'

Edward stared at Carlisle with an expression of shock plain on his vampirish face.

'I didn't kill her for food.'

Carlisle stepped back.

'You killed her for sport?'

Edward started crying. It was a girly, pathetic cry, made rather more pathetic by the lack of tears.

'She was, she was being… I slapped her… and…'

Carlisle slapped his hand to his gaping mouth.

'You slapped her? Violence against women. Australia says 'no'.' (A/N If you aren't Australian that won't make any sense to you. But it's a television campaign that has been going on forever…)

Edward was now finished sucking the juices from his former-living loved one. He stood and started pacing. Back and forth, to the window then to the lounge. Carlisle stared at him for several minutes, before sitting down on the now red lounge-suit, placing his head in his hands.

'Edward. Edward. Why? What about Charlie? Edward. Edward. Why?'

Edward stopped his frantic pacing and wiped the blood from his mouth. Standing at the door he said;

'I didn't know my own strength. And I am truly sorry, Carlisle, but I am going to go 'visit' the Volturi. I just… this is your problem now Carlisle.'

With that Edward was gone, on the next flight to Italy.

PLease review if you like, or if you want a second chapter in which Edwards undead life-thingy-whatever-the-hell-it-is ends.