Neither SCREAMINGwhispers nor RabidBalletFreak own the Twilight series and it's characters.
"TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story."
-from "The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allen Poe.
She was so close.
Just a bit longer, a few seconds really, and she would be his. Just a few steps more.
Her back was turned to him and her hair was twisted in a tight bun, revealing her skinny neck. The smell of it was utter temptation…so, so much of it. It was overwhelming. She didn't notice him as he crept towards her from behind, and hummed a nonsense song quietly to herself. Not even a flinch.
He took a step forward, his foot deliberately pressing into the floor. She winced, startled, and turned around. Her eyes were wide with childlike fear as she stared at him senselessly, the ribbons on her pointe shoes undone. She was trembling now, her pulse rapid. He could see the warm blood running through her veins, her arteries, taunting him with their nearness as he stalked closer. Staggering a few steps backward, she let out a pathetic yelp. She was his now, there was no doubt. He ran forward, a blur to her eyes, pressed her chest to the ground, lowered his mouth to her neck…
Bliss was the only way to describe it. As his mouth was wet with fresh blood, as it dripped messily down his chin and stained his teeth red, he was no longer in danger from this…temptation. He had her now.
It was only when he was fully satisfied that he really looked at her. Her broken body was in a crumpled heap on the shiny hardwood floor; limbs poking out in awkward angles and two brown eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Her lips still were parted in her final desperate gasp for breath. They were colorless, as was the rest of her skin. Jasper had not wasted a drop of her magnificent blood, had savored it slowly on his tongue…
When he saw her throat, his muscles became taut with guilt. It was almost completely demolished in his quest for more and more of her sweet blood. But, he reasoned to himself, she had died quickly (that skinny neck had been just too easy to break) far before he had finished draining her blood…
For a moment, he considered running to Alice, to tell her what he had done, to plead for forgiveness…
Was he insane?
He had to hide the body, hide the evidence before they could find it. But, no…was it worth the trouble? The humans couldn't find him, after all. And if they did, he would be able to take them, easy. They were so breakable, so flawed. It wouldn't take an ounce of his strength…He contemplated, staring at the corpse, the white classical tutu now red, the once-black leotard turning a sick purple from the sheer amount of blood that fell from her neck.
And then he realized where he would hide her. It was just too perfect: an old forgotten cemetery, overrun with weeds, underneath the gravestone that supposedly marked the grave of Major Jasper Whitlock.
"Oh!" Alice gasped, eyes flashing open and the crushing weight of the vision gone. She had dropped her portfolio, fashion designs scattering across the tiled hallway. "Jasper!" she shrieked, "Jasper!" He had left her side, and was standing into a doorway, still and silent. His muscles were tight, fist clenched, and his eyes stared within, wild and black.
His siblings were trying to pull him away, but it was as if he was rooted into the ground. A soft growl rolled deep in his chest. Alice rushed to his side, kissed his cheek, chin, forehead. The students of Alberti University paused to rake their eyes across the bizarre scene, murmuring to their friends before moving on.
"Jasper, Jasper, please. Let's just go to class…Please don't…please!"
His eyes flicked to Alice's, though with great struggle, and became briefly recognizable. "Alright," he rasped, after a moment of silence.
"C'mon, let's go hunt," said Emmett, wrapping his thick arm around Jasper's chest. Jasper nodded, but as Emmett dragged him away, his steps were hesitant and stiff. Edward, Bella and Rosalie shared a brief glance at each other, and then left for their next class.
Alice stayed behind, though. She silently went to the doorway of the classroom and peered inside.
It was not a classroom at all. It was a dance studio. A young girl, the young dancer, met Alice's gaze, heart pounding in fear.
Whispy [SCREAMINGwhispers]: Happy reading. We hope you enjoy, and would love feedback! :)
Viv [RabidBalletFreak]: I love you. 8D
Trivia Question for Chapter One [Prologue]:
What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?