A/N: This is an o/s I wrote for The "I Love the 80's Contest". Needless to say it didn't go very far, but honestly, this is one of my favorite projects. (After TRoYL, that is!)
If you are one of the 20 people who voted for me in this contest, THANK YOU! I love you madly. Please PM me and let me know... I have a spacial Wussward thank you in mind!
Shout out to my own personal pirate, AutumnDreamer. I owe you one.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything relating to Twilight, Stephenie Meyers does. Nor do I own "Somebody's Watching Me," that hot mess is Rockwell's. I will admit to owning a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen who watches me at night. Don't hate, you wish you had one, too. ;)
"Somebody's Watching Me"
Tell me, who's watching
Who's watching me
I'm just an average man
With an average life
I work from nine to five
Hey, hell, I pay the price
All I want is to be left alone
In my average home
But why do I always feel
Like I'm inthe twilight zone
And (I always feel like)
(Somebody's watching me)
And I have no privacy
(I always feel like)
(Somebody's watching me)
Tell me, is it just a dream
When I come home at night
I bolt the door real tight
People call me on the phone
I'm trying to avoid
But can the people on TV see me
Or am I just paranoid
When I'm in the shower
I'm afraid to wash my hair
'Cause I might open my eyes
And find someone standing there
People say I'm crazy
Just a little touched
But maybe showers remind me
Of Psycho too much
(Who's watching me)
I don't know anymore
Are the neighbors watching me
Well, is the mail man watching me
(Tell me, who's watching)
And I don't feel safe anymore
Oh, what a mess
I wonder who's watching me now
I couldn't believe this was fucking happening again. I pressed my body against the door, working to slow my breathing. It had been a while since I'd had a full blown panic attack, but I found myself in the midst of a particularly intense one and struggling to calm myself down.
Breathe! In. Out. In. Out. Think rational thoughts. Focus, dammit...
I tried to focus on the ridiculous calming techniques my shrink had taught me: One-Work to control your breathing. Two-Focus on reality; on the tangible. Three- Three...
Fuck! I always forget the third!
My breathing was beginning to even out, but my heart was racing faster than Formula One cars on race day. So I began to concentrate on step two: reality. Specifically, the reality of the locks on the door behind me. I rechecked them to be sure that the front door was secure. One, two, three, four... Yep, they were all locked.
I pushed off the door and stepped into my living room, nervously scanning the room for any intruders. Or murderers. Or Freddy Krueger.
"Reality, Cullen. Stay in the reality of the moment. Ah, fuckin' A! Now I even sound like a shrink. I need to get my shit together."
The only sound to pierce the silent house was a ragged breath that heaved through my chest as both my heart rate and breathing evened out. I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Everything seemed to be as I'd left it this morning when I'd left for work.
I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling of terror I'd experienced only minutes earlier when I had come home from my suck ass job at the Courthouse in the office of the Tax Collector. Ahhh, my exciting life as an accountant.
I'd felt it the second I stepped out the door of my ancient Volvo. Every hair on my neck stood straight up, and my stomach dropped to my knees. Something was off; I wasn't safe. It felt as though something, or someone, was watching and matching my every move. The fear was instantaneous and all consuming. My eyes darted around the darkness that surrounded me, searching for a form to confirm my sudden, irrational fear. I found nothing there, no wild animal or beast, but I felt it. I felt the cold sweat that broke out over my body. Felt the millions of tiny pinpricks as my skin tingled painfully at the thought of danger. The bile bubbled up from my stomach, burning as it rose. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears, muffling the sound of my car door slamming behind me. I raced to the front door and fumbled with my keys, dropping them in the process.
"Shit! Come on, come on, come on! Fuck! Just get in the house already!"
I didn't bother to look around me as I flung open the door and crashed into the safety of the house, but I could have sworn I heard something in the night. It sounded eerily like a stifled groan.
My pulse quickened at the memory of my terror, and I took a few calming breaths before looking into the cramped room before me. The boxes of unpacked items were still stacked precariously in the dining room, and slid in around the table that was too large for the small space. Boxes were scattered throughout the modest house. I just didn't have anywhere to put all the shit I owned. Some Goodwill store was going to get a hefty donation one of these days.
If you ever get your shit together and finish unpacking.
"Oh, shut the..."
I heard a noise coming from the kitchen and froze. Every muscle in my body tensed and prepared for "fight or flight". Hell, who was I kidding? If I survived the panic, the only option for me would be "flight." What? I'm a lover, not a fighter.
I stood perfectly still, waiting to hear something else that would give me a clue to who, or what, might be inside my house to usher me into the nether world.
This is it. I've done it. I have officially lost my mind. Call the Wacky Wagon, I'm gonna need a ride to the fucking mental ward.
I didn't hear any other sounds, so I carefully shuffled to the kitchen. I peered around the door jamb to get a look around the room. Nothing. I crept to the kitchen door, careful to avoid the bare window there, making sure it was good and locked, then continued my inspection.
When I walked back through to the living room I stopped dead in my tracks, and so did my heart. The terror ripped through my chest and shredded my throat as I screamed into the room. There, staring back at me, was- my own fucking reflection. In my renewed panic I flew to the large picture window, pitch black from the night outside, and dropped the blinds down over it in a quick movement. I pulled the drapes together just to be sure that no one could see in.
I repeated the procedure with the other windows in the room, panting as I worked. I paused for a second at the last one. It looked out into the small back yard and the woods beyond. I couldn't see anything beyond my own reflection with the light blaring in the room behind me, but I could still feel something, or someone out there. And it wasn't just the acute clinical paranoia talking, either. I was being watched. I knew in that moment, as I stood there peering out this window, that I was being peered back at. That realization caused something in me to snap, and a calm I wasn't feeling before took over my movements. I slowly lowered the blinds and shut out the world behind the thick drapes, fighting the sickening feeling that was growing inside.
I didn't sleep at all last night. Not one fucking wink. I was physically and emotionally spent. The one place I needed to go was home, and it was the last place I wanted to go. I'd even gone to the grocery store to kill some time after work, buying a fuckton of food that I know I'll never cook and eventually have to throw out. Every man's gotta do his part to stimulate the economy in times like these, right?
Even in daylight I felt uneasy walking from the store to my car. Last night had unleashed a wave of anxiety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I nervously scanned the parking lot -- I had no fucking idea what for -- and pushed my cart to the car, quickly loading the bags into the back seat. I was just about finished when I felt a frantic wave wash over me. It wasn't as intense as last night, but the same feeling of danger for sure. I tossed the final bags in the car, wincing when I realized the last one had a dozen eggs in it.
Shit. Well, at least now they're pre-scrambled.
I shoved the cart to the front bumper of the car and hurried to the safety of the car's interior, locking the doors behind me. I almost hit poor Mrs. Cope in my hurry to get the hell out of there. I was well on my way to my second panic attack in a twenty-four hour period. So much for leaving work early to avoid a repeat of last night.
I'd requested to leave work a little early tonight in an effort to get back to the house before dark. Forks, Washington wasn't a very large place, but put every citizen in their car and out onto the streets at the same time and you'd be sure to see a traffic jam. Not of the Big Apple persuasion, mind you, but tired, anxious, pissed off drivers stuck on a road together sucks no matter where you live.
Finally, the fuckery that is the FPD sent Officer Newton to help direct the vehicles through the congested streets of Forks in a timely manner. Ahhh, good old Officer Mikey. Ever the public servant. Always eager to service the public. Especially the female population. According to town gossip, his "night stick" saw more action than Judge Black's "gavel" did. And that's saying a lot.
I made my way past Officer "Fucking Friendly" and waved as I passed; resisting the urge to flip him the bird and show him that he was "Number one" in my book. Somehow Mikey Boy thought we were best buds, and he motioned for me to stop when I came along side of him. I rolled my window down just a crack. I didn't want to appear too friendly after all, and his mound of a beer belly was right at my eye level. Not pretty.
"Hey there, Eddie!" Jeebus, this man was always a little too eager when he saw me. I may have been worried about him hitting on me if I didn't know that he was all about the ladies.
"Edward. My name is Ed-ward." I tried really hard not to growl when I corrected him, but I wasn't one hundred percent successful, though.
"Yeah, I know that, Eddie. It's a nickname for cripe's sake! So, buddy. You up for grabbing a beer after I clean up this fucker of a traffic jam? It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes or so. You could head over to Temptation and get us a good table right up front. I hear Tanya's dancing tonight!"
Temptation was the blight on the town of Forks. You couldn't see an R-rated movie within the town limits, but just on the other side of the boarder was the strip joint, Temptation. Sure, I'd been in there a time or two -- okay, I'd been in there plenty -- but that's not my point. My damn point is that I wouldn't care if Martha fucking Stewart was dancing there tonight and popping cupcakes out her hoo-ha, I wouldn't go if it meant I'd have to share air with this prick. I somehow didn't think telling him that would be my brightest idea ever. Instead, I went for polite, but dismissive.
"Uh, thanks Officer, but I've got to get home with my groceries." I motioned to the bags in the back.
"Maybe another time, then?"
The driver four cars back chose that time to lay on his horn. Little did he know that it wasn't my fault but the asstard next to me trying to strike up a bromance. Officer Spewton gave me a parting instruction with a nod of his buzzed head.
"You better get going before traffic gets backed up again." I looked back in my rearview as I pulled off and could see the cars lined up behind me. The impatient driver a few cars back had some guts to be mouthing off to Spewton like that. The only other thing he was known for besides his overly social schmecel was his love of writing tickets. I didn't have a clear view of the driver, but the owner of the shiny black Mercedes was itching for a ticket.
Impatient to get ticketed much, stupid twat? You gotta be all kinds of stupid to piss off the local authorities in a small town.
As I drove home I was mildly grateful that it was still light out. My nerves were shot and if I had any hope of avoiding a repeat of last night's panicpalooza, then I'd need all the help I could get. I figured I had about an hour of daylight left, and the groceries were good for about thirty minutes. I really didn't want to head home to that cramped, empty house. Cramped and empty. That was a perfect description for the claustrophobia I felt when I was there, and the loneliness that had me feeling like a stranded sailor on a deserted island.
I decided to take the long way home. There was not much of Forks to see, but I hadn't had much time to just explore the outer parts of the quaint town. Narrow streets, which were in need of resurfacing, wound amongst the dense trees. At times the branches would arc across the road and meet in the middle, creating a canopy.
The houses were set close together, but not right on top of each other, and most were well kept. I passed the home of the Chief of Police, Charlie Swan, and then further up the road I passed Angela Webber's house. She was the cute librarian who I'd been out with a few times. She knew how to have a good time, but was what I'd consider a "good girl". The song "Good Girls Go Bad" came to mind, and I grinned at the thought of helping her discover her naughty librarian side. Passing her house reminded me that I should call her again, maybe get my mind off this shit for a few hours.
I glanced in the rearview out of habit -- I'm an excellent fucking driver -- and casually noticed a car a few lengths behind me. I was about to reach the dead end on this street, so I made the next right to double back and then another right. The sight of a car pulling onto the street behind me drew my attention and some part of my brain made note that it was the same car as before. That's when the clinical paranoia kicked in.
Is that car following me?
I answered my irrational thoughts out loud to ground myself in reality.
"That car is not following you, dumb ass. It's someone on their way home from work, just like you."
I shook off the feeling of impending panic. Dr. Jasper Hale would be getting an after hours call from this patient when I got home, that shit was a given. I'd talked myself out of calling him today. Even though last night's attack was one my worst in a long time, I felt like an asstard this morning.
I made the final right, heading back in the direction of home. I was over my little field trip, and I just wanted to be in my house with its multiple deadbolts to keep out the world. I turned up the sad excuse for a radio that came with the car back when it rolled off the assembly line, like, seventy-five fucking years ago. The only stations it picked up were the country station, The Rooster, from the next town over, and the Quileute Station, which broadcast from the reservation.
When I glanced up into the rearview again, I saw the same black Mercedes Benz turn onto the street a little ways behind me. Fuck. They are following me. My heart reacted immediately, pounding and hammering, pushing me to get away from here. I pointed my Volvo in the direction of home and pushed the hunk of junk as fast as I dared without it disintegrating into a pile of rust around me. My sad vehicle took the beating, but not without protest as the engine rattled and sputtered.
"Oh, come on! Please just get me home and I promise to get you a complete overhaul. Don't die on me now."
I fought to remain calm, but each time I looked in my rearview and saw the black car behind me, the frenzy would overtake me again. Several times I tried to see who it was driving, but the bastard kept just far enough back that I couldn't see. That and the windows were tinted. There was no way I was seeing into that vehicle.
About two blocks from my house the car that was following me fell back a little further. It had been on my tail for the past fifteen minutes. I was surprised and relieved when I turned onto my street and into my drive.
I jumped out of the car, the groceries forgotten, and flew in the house. The door banged shut behind me, and I counted the locks as I slid them into their housing. One. Two. Three. Four. Without pausing, I went straight to the kitchen and checked that door too.
As I made my way back through the house I began slamming the blinds down as fast as I could, not bothering with the drapes this time. I just wanted to shut out the world as quickly as possible. I reached the picture window at the front of the house last, and just as I was lowering them, I saw it. The black Mercedes slowly crept past the house, almost stopping just in front. I let the blinds fall closed, and raced to the bathroom where I proceeded to vomit.
I went to work late the next day. After two sleepless nights and a raging migraine, I needed to catch up on a few hours sleep. Not to mention I needed to clean my car out from leaving the milk and eggs in it overnight. That wasn't my brightest moment.
I managed to I drag myself into the office only to be bombarded by the hoochie of the courthouse, Jessica Newton. Yep, that's right, she's Officer "Tool's" wifey in the loose sense of the word. And I stress the word loose. I was in no mood to put up with her fuckery, and I told her so in pretty much those words. By the time lunch rolled around I was dragging and my supervisor sent me home to get some rest.
I'd been skittish all the way to work, but I never did see the black Mercedes this morning, nor on the way back home, thank God. I made it home panic free and headed straight for my bed, but not before counting the locks to be sure they were all secure. The kitchen was locked tight, and the blinds were never opened after last night, so I went to my room and flopped on the bed, barely taking the time to remove my shoes. I slept hard all night, blissfully unaware, until the alarm went off at its usual ridiculous hour.
I was finally starting to relax and chill the hell out. It had been more than twenty-four hours since I saw the Mercedes last, or had the feeling I was being watched. I was headed home from work to fix a quick dinner and take a shower, maybe relax with a good book. I also had a task to complete, but I wasn't ready for that just yet. I needed a little more time before fulfilling my promise to the short, annoying woman who was my sister.
I was beginning to think that I was imagining this whole ordeal. Alice had laughed at first when I called her during lunch today and told her that if they got a call from the FPD saying that I was found dead in my home, to have me cremated and spread my ashes in some flowery type fuckery. There's nothing like a younger sister to remind you how ridiculous you can be.
"Damn, Edward! Way to start a conversation with your favorite sister. No, 'Hello, how are you,' or even a, 'What's new, bitch?' What's going on out there on the west coast?"
"Sorry, Alice. Hi. How are you? How's everything? You are my only sister, and, to answer your question, it's not going very well. I'm not doing very well."
"Edward, you don't sound very well. Are you sick?"
"Not like, 'I need to be committed' sick, but I may be on the way. I think I'm losing my mind, sis."
"Again, Edward… What. Is. Going. ON?! And don't fuck around; you're starting to worry me."
I told her about how I'd been feeling like I was being watched. How it was most intense when I was home, but how even when I had gone to the store Wednesday I'd felt it.
"Edward Anthony, are you seeing your shrink? I think you may need your head shrunk even more because there's obviously too much room up there!"
"What the hell are you talking about, Alice? I call and tell you I think I'm being stalked by a crazed killer and your response is I need to have my head literally shrunk? Why'd I even bother to call?"
"All I'm saying is that you must have too much room up there if your imagination has enough space to conjure this crap up! Who would stalk you, Eddie?"
She knew I hated that nickname. She also must have known that I was at my breaking point because she backed off quickly.
"Edward, you do know how this sounds, right? Nothing you're telling me sounds realistic. You can't be serious about this stuff."
"Actually, Alice, I know exactly how it sounds. That's why I called to talk to someone who might help ground me. I know it sounds crazy, but I've been dealing with this for three days now, and it just gets more and more bizarre. I was even followed last night!"
"Followed? Who followed you and where?"
I shook my head into my cell phone. I was sitting out in my car, counting down the time before I had to go back into the office.
"I don't know, Al. That's just it. This isn't like the old feelings of being paranoid like when I was a kid. This is intense. I'm actually... scared. Like, at any moment whatever is watching me is going to attack. I hate feeling like this; it also scares me that I may be relapsing. Alice? Are you still there? Please just tell me that I'm being a huge wuss and tell me to stop fucking up my life with this shit."
"Ed, I don't know what to tell you. I know it's been a while since the last time you've had to fight with any of this shit, but why now? Is it because you moved? Have you talked with your new therapist, Dr. 'What's His Name'?"
"Not yet. I was going to, but... I just don't want to look like an idiot. I sure as hell don't want to go back to the way things were before with all the meds and doctors. I guess I just needed to talk to someone about this that wasn't 'clinical'. You know what I mean?"
"Has anyone approached you? Threatened you?"
"No, but I was followed."
"Are you sure?" She questioned me like the crazy I was.
"Yeah. Positive." I recounted the story of being followed after work, but as I said the words out loud, they seemed ridiculous and farfetched. Even to me.
"Ed, I think you need to call your psychiatrist. He's there with you and can help you through this. I'm here, of course, but I think you need to be talking with him, not me. This just sounds so much like last time."
We talked for a bit more. The conversation moved away from my warped psyche, and to how things were out in New York City.
"While we're on the phone, I feel it's only fair to tell you that I will not be wearing that t-shirt you sent me, big bro."
"What? Why not? I thought of you when I saw it! You have to."
"No. I refuse to wear any shirt emblazoned with any phrase across the chest, especially one that says, 'I Spooned in Forks, WA'!' That's just absurd!"
"Fine, no skin off my nose. You're just a fashion snob, that's all."
"I am not a snob. I'm a fashion designer, and that, dear brother, is not fashion."
After a few more minutes of banter and Alice making me promise that I'd call Dr. Hale, I hung up the phone and headed back into the courthouse. I felt both better and worse. Better now that I'd spoken to my sister who had a way of bringing me back to the real world, and worse because now I was worried I was losing my mind. Again."
The warm water from the shower felt amazing. I stood under the stream, letting it massage and wash away the stress from the past few days. I had the radio on while I bathed; living alone it helped keep down some of the paranoia. I nodded my head in time to the Nickelback song that was blaring into the small space. I lathered up my front and turned to rinse and grab the shampoo. A slight movement caught my eye through the frosted glass of the shower, and my heart instinctively responded by speeding up.
I slowly opened the door a crack and poked my head out.
"Hello?" Nothing. I looked around the room and noticed that my towel had slipped off the counter onto the floor. A nervous chuckle rumbled from my chest.
"You're a jumpy fucker, Cullen." I shook my head at my stupidity and closed the door, going back to my shower. I closed my eyes and worked the shampoo into my hair and then stepped back into the stream of water to rinse it out. As I stood there, I was gripped by the panic. It was intense, all consuming. It was worse than the first night when I thought I was being watched. It felt like someone was in the room with me. I clutched my chest and my eyes flew open. I looked around the shower for something to grasp onto so I wouldn't fall if my legs gave out, 'cause they sure as fuck felt like they would. I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes as I tried to get my shit together.
Panting, I finished rinsing and shut off the water. I turned to open the shower door and froze with my hand on it. There, on the other side of the hazy glass, someone stood facing me. Still as stone.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe or scream. I was helpless. My eyes were as big as saucers, and my heart pounding painfully in my chest. My only movement was the shaking of my hand on the door and my legs as they wobbled under the strain of keeping me standing. I just stood there, staring at the dark form that stared back at me. The door rattled under my hand, and my eyes flashed in the direction of the noise and the intruder, but they were gone.
I stood with my hand on the door for I don't know how long, staring at where I had seen the figure. Finally, when I was fairly certain my legs wouldn't give out, I stepped cautiously from the shower and wrapped myself in the towel that still lay on the floor. I switched off the CD player, grabbed the baseball bat I kept by my bedroom door, and walked slowly around the house.
I searched the entire house with the bat raised to strike if I needed to. There was nothing, no one. I checked the front door first- one, two, three, four. All the locks were secure and the windows as well. There was no way anyone could've been in here.
That thought calmed me considerably, but I was too worked up to relax. I decided to turn in for the night, even though it was barely eight o'clock. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be sleeping much tonight.
I awoke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. I looked around my room and could see the light pushing through the cracks in the blinds.
It was a dream. Just a fucking dream. The same dream that you had a hundred times last night. You are fine. You are safe.
This was familiar. Familiar because I had done this so many fucking times last night that I lost count. Each time I'd wake up naked, panting, crying out, and flailing as I tried to escape the form that stood before me. I hadn't slept much, and what fleeting moments I did catch were tormented by the memory of someone outside my shower. I knew this was all in my mind, but that didn't stop the nightmares, or the fear.
I gave up on sleep, slipping on a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms and heading to the kitchen. I was starving because I hadn't eaten the night before. Why bother, I would've just puked. I settled on peanut butter on toast and made a mental note that I needed to go back to the store for the things I had thrown out the other day.
After getting dressed I couldn't stay around the house any longer thinking about last night, so I got in the car and headed to the store. I decided to stop and get a few movies to distract me, and I picked out a few that I'd heard were fucking hilarious. I wasn't long in the grocery store, and I was relieved to notice that I hadn't felt the now familiar and almost constant anxiety that seemed to follow me everywhere.
I drove home listening to the Rooster, again looking for a distraction. There weren't many groceries to put away, and I grabbed a soda and went to watch the movies. I decided to watch one that a co-worker, Kim had lent me. It was a boot leg copy of "The Hangover." I don't buy that shit, but I'll watch it if you lend it to me. What? I'm not a saint, for cripes sake! The movie worked, I was completely distracted by the crazy antics in Vegas. By the time the movie was finished I'd almost forgotten the shower freak out.
My stomach reminded me it was time to eat again, and I went to fix something more substantial than peanut butter on bread. I'd bought a sub from the grocery, not wanting to think about what to fix later. I took that, a bag of Doritos, and another can of soda to the living room to watch one of the movies I had rented.
I stopped cold in the dining room.
Something wasn't right, and I wasn't just talking about a fucking feeling here. Something was missing. I looked around the dining room, trying to remain calm. Where was the box marked "pictures"? You might think I was being paranoid again, but no, I knew that box should be there. It had every picture I owned in it. Childhood, college years, as well as some embarrassing pictures that I'd yet to destroy. All I'm sayin' is there were some that involved me, a statue, and lewd gestures. Needless to say, I knew where that box should be, and it wasn't there.
"What the fuck is going on!!" I yelled to the house. I went straight to my room for the bat. I was definitely panicked, but unlike any time before, I was pissed!
I grabbed the phone on the way back to the living room. I started to call the police to get Officer "Fucktard" over here to file a report when I had a thought. What else was missing?
There wasn't anyone still in the house, obviously, or I'd have seen them by now. I did a quick inventory of anything that had any value, which wasn't a hell of a lot, and realized that nothing else was missing. Only the pictures and my sanity. Well, the latter always M.I.A.
I stood in the middle of my living room with the bat in one hand and the phone in the other, the dial tone buzzing annoyingly. I clicked it off and started wondering what I would say if I called the FPD.
"Forks Police Department's Emergency line. What's your emergency?"
"Um, yes. My name is Edward Cullen, and I'd like to report that my house was broken into and the fuckers stole my baby pictures and my sanity."
I didn't think that they'd be rushing out for that call. Maybe they'd be kind enough to send that Wacky Wagon, though. I sighed deeply, feeling defeated, and tossed the phone on the couch, running my hand through my wild hair. I needed perspective. I got a pad and pencil and started making a list. This was good, it was grounded in reality. Dr. Hale would be proud.
Tues- Felt like I was being watched, screamed like a pussy, panic attack.
Wed- Felt like I was being watched again, panicked, was followed by weird car, panicked again.
Thurs- Nothing unusual this day, me being a scared shit as usual.
Fri- Took a shower, imagined someone in the room with me (and not in a good "Fuck that was hot!" kinda way), had the mother of all panic attacks, had nightmares all night in the nude.
Sat- Discovered house broken into, all pictures missing (they'll prob. be on the internet by tomorrow), and I've lost my fucking mind. No panic attack. Yet.
The list revealed several things to me: first, I was messed up; second, the things that had been happening seemed to have been progressing. They pointed to the theory that maybe I wasn't losing my mind. I decided to wait on calling the FPD, I'd just end up as the joke they all laughed about around the coffee and donut dispenser. I did opt to finally call Dr. Hale. He'd at least listen without laughing out loud.
His message service answered and I calmly asked to have him return my call, that there was no emergency but that it was very important that I talked to him as soon as possible. I hung up the phone and sat on the couch. I picked up the remote and clicked "play", then I started in on my uneaten lunch, er- I guess it was dinner now.
The calm I felt must have been a type of shock, because I was numb. All that mattered to me right then was the craptastic movie on my T.V. and the soggy sandwich in my hand. I'd worry about all the other fucking shit when Doc called.
He never called.
Finally, sometime around midnight, I clicked off the T.V. I'd watched three movies, and even watched The Hangover a second time. That movie was some funny shit. I carried my plate and the bag lady worthy pile of empty soda cans I'd sucked down and put them in the kitchen. I hadn't left the house all day, but I check the locks just to be sure. One, two, three, four. I even went back in the kitchen to check that door too.
Exhausted, I headed to brush my teeth and get some sleep; my limbs were heavy from the lack of it. I switched the light off in the bathroom, and the house was blanketed in darkness. I flipped the switch on in my room but the light didn't come on. I tried it again like an Einstein, thinking maybe I didn't do it right the first time. Nope. Nothing.
I moved to the other side of the bed to turn on the bedside lamp, but before I reached it, I slammed into something hard and cold.
"What the fuck!"
My hands instinctively flew up in front of my chest and pushed off the marble pillar I'd run head on into. It had a very familiar form; if I didn't know better I'd say someone had put a statue on the middle of my fucking room.
Probably the damn cat burglar. Steals my pictures, but leaves me a mother fucking statue. Fuck my life.
It was then that the statue moved. Its cold hands encircled my biceps, and I felt cold air blowing against my throat, coming like winter cooled breaths. Finally the fear hit. Hit hard. My legs gave out, but I remained vertical; the hands holding me upright had a firm almost painful grip on my arms. The statue emitted a low rumble, a growl. I stopped breathing at the sound, terror burning my lungs. When I couldn't hold it any longer, the air rushed from mouth. It hissed and lifted me off the floor a few inches, holding me in the air. It was then, at that moment, that I knew I was going to die tonight, and something told me that it wouldn't be painless.
God, I hope everyone knows I love them. Especially Alice. Fuck! I can't die! No one will believe this, I'll die and everyone will think I offed myself. Edward Cullen, crazy fucker to the end. I can't die.
I felt my body moving through the air. It took a second to register that I'd been thrown. I landed roughly on the bed, slamming into the headboard. There was a loud "crack", and I wasn't sure if it was the wood or my head that had split. I moaned as the pain registered, and I moved to get off the bed, trying to stand. My head was throbbing. Disoriented and scared shitless, I tried to make it to the door, but my attacker reached it before I did, sending me flying back against the bed with a backhanded smack to my chest. Instantly he was inches from my face, his cold breath sweet and terrifying.
What could this superhuman man want with me? Who was this?
My questions would go unasked because I was too horrified to form the words, not sure if I really wanted those answers.
"Do not try that again." The creature hissed into my ear, waves of fear shuddering over my body. It took everything in me not to piss myself. The voice was dark, dripping with hunger, and- feminine?
"Don't move. I don't have to hurt you, but it is difficult to control myself when I'm this close. Your scent is maddening. I can't be responsible for the consequences if you move too quickly. Do you understand me?" This time the voice was smooth and soothing, but firm. "Nod your head if you understand."
My head moved, but only minutely. I felt her move away from me, and I could make out her outline as the light from the moon outside backlit her slight form. She stood over me, watching. Something I was sure she had been doing for days now. Watching and stalking. I had no hope of making it out of this alive.
She slowly moved back beside me on the bed, positioning herself alongside me. I was obedient and didn't move, not even my eyes to look over at her. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, praying that she would kill me quickly. A cold, smooth finger traced from my temple down my jaw line, continuing down my neck. It stopped and hovered over where my jugular pulsed from my raging heart. She pressed her palm to the area, sucking in a ragged breath.
The sound was low, deep, and dripping with intensity. My body involuntarily shuddered. I tensed as I readied myself for the "consequences" she had mentioned before, but none came. Instead the hand moved, resting against my chest, and she sat up in a slow, fluid movement. Her hair brushed against my face and I was overpowered by the cloying scent that assaulted me. My eyes slid shut as I breathed her in deeply, finding the scent both intoxicating and noxious.
"Edward... look at me." The order was almost whispered, pleading.
I obeyed. My eyes first met with her lean torso, as they traveled up I could clearly make out the soft curves of her breasts. I was instantly hard; silently I admonished my johnson for reacting so inappropriately. I continued up the valley between her breasts and along the curve her neck. I took in the line of her jaw, pausing at her lips before taking in her face. She was beautiful in the moonlight. Deadly and beautiful. Her skin glowed in the night, and if I hadn't just experienced her power and violence, I might have thought she was an angel.
"Edward. Look at me." Her face was inches from mine. My eyes found hers, their blood red gaze intense, terrifying, penetrating. Dazzling. I felt like I was seeing everything through a haze.
"Breathe, human. I wouldn't want you to die before your time."
Her choice of words was not lost on my addled brain. I heaved a deep breath of air just as she exhaled, breathing in her sweet air. My head swam from the aroma. I couldn't break away from her stare, but then she looked away and down along the length of my motionless body. Her hand traveled from my chest down my body, tracing the plains of my stomach, a fire following her touch. She stopped when she reached the waist of my jeans. Her fingers hooked under the waistband and she gave a firm tug, causing my body to shift closer to her. Her exploration continued, her fingers barely grazing along my zipper, and in turn the length beneath it, pausing when my dick twitched beneath her tough. She gasped at my response, and then her gentle, burning touch brushed down my leg before returning to my chest as she lay back along side of me, our faces close again.
"I have wanted this for a long time, Edward Cullen. You have no idea. Will you give yourself to me?"
Her eyes slid shut, breaking our connection. I could still feel the hold she had over me, I wanted nothing more than to be here with her. I knew the danger, I could feel it hovering in the darkness surrounding us, but in that moment I knew that regardless of the outcome of this night; whether I lived or died by this beautiful creature's hands, I wanted to give her all of me, whatever that might be. She could have it all.
"Yes," I breathed the word more than spoke it. "Yes, you can take all of me. I- am yours."
Her eyes flew open.
"Are you sure about that, dear human? I'm entirely positive that you have no idea what you've just agreed to. Maybe you should ask who, or rather what I am."
I didn't respond, afraid of her reaction, and in obedience to her earlier orders.
"I am a vampire, Edward." She grinned when my eyes grew wide in disbelief, "Yes we do exist, and I have been watching you for a very long time. You have become my obsession, my drug, if you will."
"How- how do you know me? I'm your obsession? I don't…"
"Understand? I know. I've been watching you for many years -- since you were five years old, and I saw you in at a park with your mother and sister. I could smell you from across the field, your blood, it called to me. I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't take the one thing I wanted most in the world. So, I settled for watching you, for watching over you. I promised myself that I'd move on after you'd grown up and were able to care for yourself, but again I couldn't. I couldn't leave you. I've followed you everywhere you've been. I've watched you grow and mature."
"All these years, the paranoia, the fear... It was because you were watching me."
"And I've watched what my presence in your life has done to you."
She paused as the weight of her words sunk in. She had always been there, and somehow I had known that, I'd felt her close. I wasn't crazy. I wasbeing watched! The years of therapy could not do for me what her confession just had. I felt like a prisoner who had been released from their cell.
"But, who are you?"
She leaned in closer, her cool lips grazing my ear as she whispered, "Bella. I am Bella."
"Bella." Her name fell like a prayer from my lips and she whimpered at hearing it.
"I have waited an eternity to hear you say my name. Say it again."
"Bella. Beautiful, Bella. I'm yours. However you want me."
"Touch me, Edward. I want to feel your hands on me. I give you permission- no, I'm asking you to please, touch me."
Something shifted in that moment. The fear was replaced with desire and longing. I turned to face her, cautiously bringing my hand up to brush her cheekbone with the backs of my fingers. She moaned and leaned into my touch. I cupped her face in my hand and whispered into her dove white skin, "May I kiss you, Bella?"
She breathed her yes, and I pressed a faint kiss on her cheek, just above my thumb, dragging my lips softy along her face until they met hers. I pressed another whisper of a kiss on her lips, surprised by the softness there. They were harder than my own, but not rigid. I needed more. Again I kissed her, this time with more passion and she returned the gesture. My arms wrapped around her back, urging her closer until she was pressed fully against me, her arms sliding around my back. We covered each other with kisses and licks; her skin tasted sweet and had a hint of a floral scent. Wherever her tongue touched my skin I felt a slight tingling. I paused and licked my lips; it felt like they were buzzing from the sensation. Bella continued kissing my cheeks, my chin, my jaw line.
"It's the venom," she explained as she pressed her lips to my neck, "It can't hurt you like this, you should only be worried if it enters your bloodstream." She grinned against my skin before licking me from my collarbone to my chin, the sensation causing me to moan. At that moment I didn't care if she was venomous, as long as she continued licking me. I also wondered what it would feel like on other, more sensitive areas.
She pressed another kiss on my lips, sucking on my bottom lip as she pulled back from me and sat up at the edge of the bed. In a movement faster than my brain could register, she had removed her cotton t-shirt, her glorious mane of hair falling around her like a veil. I could barely make out the brown in the dim light. I sat up as well, and brushed the hair back off her shoulders. The sight of her beautiful breasts, bare and perfect, were irresistible, and I hungrily cupped one and brought my mouth to the other. The skin was cool and a supple, but when my hand grazed her side I felt the steal that must have been her ribs.
"Bella, you're beautiful."
As my tongue licked and explored her I felt her cool skin warm from my touch, butit would quickly cool again when I moved to another part of her body. Her hands had woven themselves tightly into my hair, tugging when I did something she liked. She carefully rose up onto her knees and climbed onto my lap, straddling me. It was like she hovered over me, not putting all of her weight down on me; I wondered if she would crush me if she did.
I reached up to kiss her properly, fully. Her mouth opened to mine, and I felt her tongue brush along my lips. I met her tongue with my own and she groaned, grasping my shirt in both hands and ripped them apart, shredding my shirt. That shit was hot, and my dick strained against my jeans, begging to be released. Our kiss never broke as she worked the shirt down my arms and tossed it into the darkness.
The feeling of Bella pressed against me was indescribable, her cool skin tempering the flushed heat of my own as it warmed her, if only by a few degrees. My mouth sought her breasts once again, and she arched her back to meet my touch. I felt her hand slide down my back and around my waist to the top of my jeans. These met much the same fate as my shirt had. The button popped off, flying across the room and hitting something. The zipper keened in protest as she tore my favorite pair of jeans to rags. I sat there, with Bella still in my lap, in only my boxer briefs as I worked and sucked her nipples.
She gently guided me back to kissing her mouth. Her hand purposefully ran along my titanium hard length, and I groaned, bucking my hips at the feel of her cool hand through the thin cotton. Slowly, painfully she climbed off me, kissing the tip of my nose before standing between my knees. She quickly removed her pants, but unlike mine, she didn't shred them in the process. I briefly wondered why my clothes seemed to be the only ones meeting an untimely demise.
She was completely bare, without clothes to block my view of her snowy skin. She was also bare in the other sense. I took in the sight of her, smooth and stunning.
"Come here," I urged her to return to my lap, and she finally yielded, climbing back onto me. I traced wide circles on her back and her arms snaked around my neck, clutching me to her. Our chests pressed tightly together, she circled her hips over mine, gaining friction.
She whispered into my hair. "I never intended to reveal myself to you. When you moved to this tiny town, away from everything and everyone, I became bolder, almost crazed to be nearer to you. It was- is more than obsession for me. I no longer see the boy I desperately wanted to protect, all I see now is the man I have before me. I never meant for you to fear me or question your sanity, I just needed to be near you."
"I'm glad you did, Bella." She pulled back slightly and kissed me tenderly, and then did it again with renewed intensity. When she climbed off my lap for the second time, I groaned at the loss.
Bella looked down at me and grinned, "Don't worry. You'll like this."
She bent to hook her fingers under the elastic of my boxers and gently pulled. I shifted my hips to allow them to slide off, and Bella guided them down off my legs, depositing them on the floor with a plop. She then lowered herself onto her knees in front of me and put a hand on each hip. She easily pulled me to sit at the very edge of the mattress, bringing my very erect member closer to her. She eyed both of us hungrily.
"Mmmm... Edward, I just want you to know that this is going to be a little… different."
She slid her tongue along my length, and the feel of her made me impossibly harder. The cool trail of venom tingled as it absorbed into my skin, and when the air met the trail it intensified the feeling a hundred fold.
"Bella, oh my God! Please, Bella, don't stop. That's the most amazing thing I've ever- uhhhh."
I moaned and whimpered as she worked over me. My hands clutched the sheets; I was desperate to touch her, to feel her. I begged her to let me touch her the same way she was me.
"Now, now, Edward. Patience. In due time. I have a plan. Trust me."
She continued to lick and suck, covering every inch of me with her venom, paying special attention to the sensitive head. I noticed that the more venom she put on my skin, the less I felt of her touch; the tingling increased, but her touch was like a ghost along my skin. My hands were tangled in her hair, pulling and massaging just as she had done to me earlier. She moaned, and the feel of her moaning around me was almost too much.
The feel of her mouth around me had me close, but she wasn't working to get me to climax. I was just beginning to understand what she was doing; preparing me for what would be an uncomfortable experience if not for the desensitization of her venom. She reached down to the floor beside her and picked up her jeans, fishing something small from the pocket.
She turned her attention back to me, placing a chaste kiss on my tingling head and stood. She wrapped her arms around my neck pulling my head to rest on her hard belly. The skin gave a little under the pressure of my touch. Bella bent to place another kiss on the top of my mess of hair and whispered a plea I barely heard.
"Touch me. Please, Edward. I want to see you touch me."
I reached up and ran my hand along the swell of her breast, grazing the pert nipple before running down her side. She inhaled a sharp breath when my warm skin met the cool of her own. I persisted down over her belly and to her bare skin below. When I finally met the flesh between her legs she gasped at my touch. She was so much softer than I imagined, and wet.
"You're so wet. Is that the venom, too?"
She nodded her answer, too caught up in what I was doing to her to speak. I slowly explored this new feeling; she was cold to the touch even here, but as I moved over her folds, they warmed like the rest of her had. A hiss of pleasure escaped her lips as I pressed my fingers into her, and her hands pulled painfully at my scalp. I wanted to taste her, so I brought my hand to my mouth and licked my fingers, looking up at her as I did. The tingling feeling was much stronger from this venom, almost numbing. She whimpered as she watched, either from watching me lick her off my fingers, or from the loss of them inside her.
"Mmmmm. It tastes different from your mouth. Thicker, sweeter. Like nectar. Hmmm, this gives new meaning to the term 'honey pot'..." I gave her a coy grin.
A growl erupted from her chest, feral and wild. She pushed me hard and I flew back against the mattress. She was straddling me instantly. In her hand was a small bottle of- warming gel? The vamp brought her own sex aids? Oh, God.
"You came prepared, I see. You were pretty confident this would happen, weren't you?"
The wily grin she gave me told me everything I needed to know, or so I thought. She squeezed a good amount of the gel into her hand and held it out to me. She did the same in my hand. She tossed the bottle on the bed and guided my hand to her folds. I knew what she wanted from me, and I began working the gel over her.
"I had hoped this would come in handy. But had you decided against this, then I have other ways of convincing you."
"Convincing me, you mean like, against my will?"
"Something like that."
Then she smeared the gel in her hand all along my length. The feel of the heat was intense, and I gasped at the contact. Just then she rose up, and watching me, lowered herself down onto my erection. She went slowly, carefully, allowing the warming gel to warm her and also allowing the venom deep within her to take effect and act as a numbing agent. She was soft, but in a way that was different from what I had known with the few other women I'd been with; she felt so amazing around me. We fit perfectly together.
Having taken all of me in, she began to rock back and forth, relishing the feel of our bodies coming together like this. I reached up and palmed her chest as she moved, paying special attention to her nipples. My hands slid down her sides and rested on her hips. She rose up over me again, her dark eyes locking with mine before she slammed down hard onto me. The force was almost painful as my body took a beating from her weight and strength. No words passed between us as she rocked over me, only moans, pants, cries, and grunts. These became our language, our communication.
She watched me for signs of pain or discomfort, but there weren't any. I only felt pleasure. I watched her, as she rose and fell, each time bringing us closer to release. I felt the familiar tightening deep within my gut, signaling that my release was soon.
"Bella, I'm close. Please?"
She took my hand from her hip and guided it between her legs to where she wanted me to rub her and bring her release.
It didn't take long before we came together, our cries of pleasure piercing through the quiet room. Bella lay over me, supporting her weight to keep from crushing me.
What a way to go. I'd happily die if it meant that is the fucking pre-show.
As we lay next to each other, wrapped in the other's arms, another thought crossed my mind and I couldn't help but ask her.
"So, are you a succubus?"
"Are you a succubus? You know, a female vampire that seduces human men?"
"No, I'm your succubus. You have been the only one. You will always be the only one."
She sighed against my chest. I breathed in the scent of her as I drifted off to sleep with Bella in my arms.
Sunday 8:00 AM
I awoke stiff, naked, and alone. Bella was gone. I panicked. Had I imagined the whole thing? Was it all an elaborate delusion? I looked behind me at the still cracked headboard, and my eye drifted over a small piece of folded paper on the pillow where she had been last night.
I picked it up and read what she had written. My pulse quickened, but not in fear.
Be safe. I am always watching.
A/N: Like I mentioned earlier I'm a little proud of this fic! It was conceived, written and beta-ed in four days, and I loved the hell out of this idea of Wussward! Until I realized I had to write reverse Vamp/human smexin'! I believe my exact words to my beta were, "Oh, holy hell! What the F*UCK have I gotten myself into?" That resulted in the world's best beta, DizzyGrl28 popping into chat rooms and asking obscene questions about vamp/human sex and scouring the ficdom for answers. Yet another reason to love that woman!
I hope you like Wussward. He has a special place in my heart. I just wanna cuddle him.
Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hugs from Wussward!