Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all, but she was kind enough to let me play with Edward for a little while. Wasn't that nice of her? I enjoyed him, he was very good. No copyright infringement intended.

Note: This piece was written in response to a personal challenge from tjbaby, oh, aaaages ago. Finally got the balls to post it up. It is the counterpart (and losing party) to Beastly Intervention, which you can find on this account. Big thanks to VanPireNZ and tjbaby for confusing the hell out of me and for making me feel way less inadequate than I really am :D I love you girls hard!

Contains: Darkward, reference to rape, blood, etcetera…


"I'll never send you away Edward. Regardless of the choices you make, you don't have to leave." Carlisle was eternally forgiving, but I couldn't stay and hear the disappointment in his thoughts every day, the wondering where he had gone wrong, his blaming of himself instead of me.

I look at my prey—my hand held firmly over his mouth, my other arm holding him tightly against the wall behind him—seeing in his mind the black emptiness of my eyes as I study him. I search for his crimes; I need my reason, my sanctification. Fear widens his eyes and he gives it willingly, memories flowing quickly through his mind. A dark private place where he would not be disturbed, a woman prone, naked and begging for her life. My eyes narrow, disgusted as his thoughts linger on the rape. And then at the height of his pleasure he takes his knife, drawing it across her throat as he pulls her head back by the hair, watching the blood pump out onto the dirty floor.

I'd slipped up once. Stopped a killer from claiming his latest victim, and in doing so had spilt his blood and fed on him. Carlisle told me that I'd saved an innocent life and should be proud, that just because I'd inadvertently killed the murderer in the process there was no reason that I could not continue in our vegetarian lifestyle.

Venom pools in my mouth and I almost lose control. Thirsting, but sickened, I swallow and turn my need to him. Unbidden thoughts of Carlisle intrude and I briefly wonder whether he would approve. Regardless, my actions feel legitimate as I sink my teeth and then I can think no more, only one thing on my mind; more blood. I clutch his body to me, unable to stop even if I'd wanted to.

But I liked the taste of human blood too much to go back to feeding on animals. And if I could kill the killers, saving innocent lives in the process—well that was all the justification I needed.

On the edge of my consciousness I hear his ribs pop as my arms crush his body, the screams of pain as my venom enters his bloodstream. It makes no difference; I drink, drawing every drop from his body and only when there is no more does my sensibility return. I throw my head back, sated, the elation I feel having fed on human blood something I never had when hunting animals. Would I ever go back? Could I?

"You can come back whenever you want to, Edward," Carlisle told me as I walked away.

His heart still beats weakly, so I break the killers neck with a loud snap. I have purged the evil, taken it into myself, and it merges perfectly with my own. We were alike, takers of human blood, soulless demons. "I'll see you in Hell," I say as I go, meaning every word.