Entry for Savage7289's "Die, Daddy C, Die" Contest
Title:Payback, As They Say... Is A Bitch
Penname:RosaBella75 (aka IslandWoman221)
Summary: *DieDaddyCDie Contest Entry* How does the most despicable Carlisle ever pay for his crimes? Over, and over, and over again... and that's only the beginning. O/S based on Savage's "Offside." AH, M for Language/Content
http:/ / www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/7036128/1/bOffside_b
http:/ / www(.)fanfiction(.)net/u/2229847/Savage7289
(just remove the extra spaces and () to fix the url's)
Disclaimer: Not mine, and Twilight's not hers, but Savage is letting us gallop in her galoshes for a bit of wicked fun. Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, no infringement is intended.
"I don't give a flying fuck how you do it, just do it!" I growled loud enough into my phone to make the cabbie across the pick-up lane look over at me.
Idiot. And that was being exceedingly charitable - my good deed for the day, if you will…
I glared at him and the motherfucker must have been smarter than he looked, because he instantly looked away.
Did I mention just how much I hate SeaTac airport? Yeah, well the jackasses who designed the place should have their goddamned cereal box degrees revoked.
For some fucked up reason I couldn't get Esme out of my head today. It left me in a particularly fine mood.
Earlier when I fucking had to set Edward straight about how much he was risking getting attached to that little cunt-licking bitch of the Chief's, I could almost feel Esme's presence and her disapproving eyes on me. It made me extra cold. I had to ignore that crazy shit, and the lousy ass night's sleep I got at the fucking over-priced hotel hadn't helped any. I don't care what thread count they claimed their Egyptian cotton sheets were, the place was a fucking dump.
Now, with the mad house of fucking tourists backed up at the elevator in the parking garage, today was just looking to be another banner-fucking-day. It had me totally on edge, and my usual urbane exterior was in short supply. I was in absolutely no mood to wait for the damn elevator, let alone to be packed in with the stinking masses, so I decided to just hop the concrete barrier and go directly to ticketing. The fucking cabbies and assholes picking up their loved ones could just kiss my fucking dick.
Just as I saw an opening to cross, my phone rang again. Better not be that ass-licker again!
The morons of the world never fucking cease to amaze me! For fuck's sake, I gave the cock-sucker detailed instructions. All he has to do is execute them. Weak-ass motherfucker.
"Urm, Mr… ahhh, Dr. Cullen, sir, this is Max, sir."
I could actually hear the little fucker gulping. Shit, I was paying way too much to have to put up with this kind of aggravation! If Jenks' Investigation Agency wasn't the best… and I didn't have enough dirt to keep the fucker quiet indefinitely… someone's head was going to roll!
"Uhh, yeah. I found what you wanted on the Swan girl, sir. I have to say it's pretty graphic… are you sure…"
Grabbing the handle of my carry on (I never check shit, especially not just for a week at a farce of a Hospital Administration Consortium), I took a tighter grip on my phone, wishing it were Max's neck. Gritting my teeth to keep from screaming at the insolent fucker, I marched across the street.
"I don't pay you to second guess me. Are we clear? I'll be talking to Jenks about your… performance. You can count on it. I sure as fuck hope your affairs are in order."
I heard the piss-ant curse to himself before replying, "Yes, Sir, Doctor Cullen, Sir! I'll have the images FedEx'd to your hotel tonight, Sir."
I didn't even get the second word out of my mouth before the screaming blare of an enormous garbage truck's horn blasting directly into my eardrum.
This was really going to ruin my day.
I felt the impact of the truck's over-sized bumper crush against my ribs and thighs, the crunching impact reverberating up through my spine in an oddly electric manner. Suddenly, the world was spinning and bouncing past at a jarring and dizzying speed.
With a frightening burst of clarity, I saw what looked like my jacket under the bumper of the truck just as I heard a woman scream, "Oh my God! That's his head!" Followed by a child squealing, "It's bouncing like a ball, Daddy!"
For some reason, those randomly fucked-up comments were accompanied in my mind by the shrieking voice of the Queen of Hearts from that fucking animated Alice in Wonderland movie Edward used to watch as a preschooler. The last thing I heard just before the flowing red blackness enveloped my consciousness completely was the bitch screeching, "O-off with his HEAD!"
I came to on a salt plane, bare and flat for as far as the eye could see. It was dry, and the sere wind blew occasional dust eddies over the ground. I felt oddly detached, like I wasn't really connected to this place or even to my own body.
Where the hell am I?
"Oh, Carlisle!" the voice that still haunted my every waking moment cried softly from behind me.
"Esme?" I gasped, turning with a jerk.
How the fuck could that be? It couldn't be!
I could feel my eyes bulging, even as my brows slammed down into a deep V, while I stood like a fucking punk trying to rationalize how my dead wife could be standing before me.
"But you're dead!"
"Yes… I am."
"Oh, thank God! So… I am dead too? I'll be with you forever!" I could feel my face stretching into an enormous grin, my voice going all tender as I stepped forward to embrace my lost love.
"Don't go leavin' me like that, again!" I teased.
Just as I was about to wrap Esme up in my arms, already mentally calculating the likelihood of whether or not the salty afterlife grit eddying over the ground would spoil some rockin' good reunion sex, my arms passed right through her and I stumbled.
"I'm not really here, Carlisle. I was granted the chance to say goodbye, but also to ask you, why?"
I looked at her dumbfounded.
"Why didn't you resist, Carlisle? Why did you let the darkness win? You let evil creep into your soul and taint its compassion - steal its beauty," her voice cracked as she spoke, filled to overflowing with sorrow.
The expression on her face was a knife to my gut.
"If you'd just fought the darkness… at all, we'd be together now. But you've done too much wrong, caused too much pain with no remorse in return. You have to atone for your sins, Carlisle."
I could feel my breathing edge toward hyperventilation. My head was again spinning. This couldn't be right. We were supposed to be together. We were supposed to be together forever!
"Good-bye, Carlisle, my love. Good-bye."
"NOOOOO! ESME! Noooooo! DON'T YOU LEAVE ME! Don't you leave me again! ESMEEEEEE!"
I could feel my vocal cords protest my screams as I fell to the dirt, my fingers digging into the solid surface. I writhed convulsively on the ground before flipping over to search the sky, unable to really believe she was gone. For good.
The pain hit hard and without warning.
Agony spread until it felt like every cell in my body was lit on fire from the inside. My heart thundered in my chest, each beat a torment of titanic pressure. I arched and gasped, seethed and writhed. There was no escape. After what seemed an eternity my heart slowed, each beat a distinct spasm before with one final convulsive contraction it stopped.
I lay there absorbing the sudden absence of the pain, which was almost as disorienting as the misery itself had been. Opening my eyes I was nearly blinded by the sun that seemed to have taken on a new and even more intense hue. Strangely enough, though, it never seemed to move. That was when I realized it was still directly overhead, just where it had been when Esme disappeared.
Absentmindedly, I clutched at my chest. The thought of her stabbed painfully through my brain, but surprisingly didn't constrict my chest the way I had come to expect. Then suddenly there was a sharp jab in my chest that felt like a finger poke to the ribs.
"Ha! You have no heart, that's precisely why you're here!" a melodious, female voice full of malicious delight spoke seductively from somewhere beyond my feet. The sound dripped in my ears, and my head snapped up to see who had spoken. My eyes burned at the sudden eclipse of light from a figure standing over me.
A gorgeous, statuesque woman with long, lustrous, mahogany hair and amazingly long legs stood sneering at me through her captivating violet eyes. She wore the tightest red, vinyl bustier with little, black, vinyl shorts so small they almost couldn't even be called "shorts." Talk about an eminently fuckable figure! I could feel my dick stir in my pants.
Oh yeah. Here was a bitch I could really pound out my frustrations out on.
From my vantage point, I could see all six miles of her legs were encased in black stockings of the thinnest, sheerest silk I had ever seen, peeking out of the top of, swear to God, at least eight-inch-heeled, red leather, thigh high boots. She leaned in closer, and I could almost make out a slight blue line around her eyes. It made me wonder if she was wearing contacts, and if so, what color her eyes really were. However, her earlier words settled in and pissed me the hell off, so I snapped back at her, "Who the fucking hell are you?"
Her immediate peeling laughs caught me completely off guard... and completely took care of the rising problem in my pants.
"What the fuck is so damned funny, bitch?"
Before I could even blink, I found myself suspended above her, her hand tight around my neck, my airway completely shut off.
She cocked a brow. "Don't piss me off, Carlisle. I'd hate to have to take this handsome head off and dribble with it. The cops had a hard enough time fishing it out from under that tour bus," she purred, the absolute calm of her voice made it that much more menacing. I felt my first real bolt of fear ripple up my spine.
"Oh, by the way, I'm Heidi, and I'll be your guide to Hell," she smirked, an inappropriately joyful tone tingeing her bell-like voice. She blinked one long slow blink, and, when her previously violet eyes reopened, they had turned a deep crimson red. She smiled broadly as she attempted to stare me down. It worked, but I wasn't about to let her know that!
"You've already sacrificed your tarnished soul… that's what the burning was before, your soul being burnt from you one iota at a time. But, now the real fun gets to begin." Her stiff satisfied smile wouldn't have warmed even absolute zero. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"
Her other hand came up to touch my forehead right between my eyebrows. Just before it touched me, I realized I had been hanging here for quite some time and felt no need to breathe, but my throat was closed so firmly I couldn't even squeak out a single sound. I thought about fighting, but considering how easily she had lifted me, I didn't figure it would do much good. Better to bide my time and learn her weaknesses. Unable to answer, I merely raised my eyebrows and blinked my bulging eyes at her.
"Yes, let's shall," she laughed a chillingly evil laugh and dropped me to the ground. I felt shattered yet could tell I retained my form.
With my head bowed back, I began to see my life replay behind the silver screens of my eyelids. There was a strange duality to the experience as though I was myself and beside myself all at the same time. My childhood ran by relatively quickly, pausing only briefly to underscore what I considered typical childhood amusements like pulling the wings off flies; cutting the legs off frogs to see what would happen and poking at their insides; locking the neighbor's cat in the trunk of their car… that sort of run of the mill thing. As I grew to school age, the images lingered oddly on the suffering of the creatures I'd entertained myself with. It made me feel a bit odd, really, but I watched impassively.
Soon the images reached a day I remembered well. It was near the beginning of Kindergarten, and I was on the playground. One of the sixth grade boys had one of my classmates on the ground trying to force him to eat dirt. I stood entranced and mildly repulsed at the same time. You never knew what might be in that dirt and the thought of having it in my mouth made my skin crawl. Finally the bully, Demetri, I later learned his name was, managed to stuff a clod in the poor kid's mouth – he'd been holding the little six-year-old's nose closed. The kid let out a particularly piercing wail and began spitting and crying. I now suspected the bully worried a teacher would hear him, so he climbed off. As his squinty eyes landed on me one thought became dominant: that would never be me on the ground. Not if I had anything to say about it.
Walking closer to the pair I kicked dirt at the boy still retching and crying in the dust. "Wimp!" I cried, sharing a sneer with the bully before I turned and walked away. Most of the kids at the school had problems with this bully and his gang, but never me… granted, I tended to join in their fun when I couldn't make myself scarce. As time went on I found I liked being the big man on the playground. I liked getting my way, and, if they wouldn't give it to me, I quickly learned there were plenty of ways to make them.
So passed my youth. I was talented, respected… and most of all, feared. The images had a way of highlighting how feared I was the most, and in ways I'd never really been able to notice or appreciate before. It was an odd sensation.
Soon the images became uncomfortable as I entered puberty. Comments I either didn't even remember having uttered, passing or barely even thought of as having been noteworthy, were replayed in excruciating detail. Most often taking long tangents for me to see the farther reaching ramifications of my verbal venom. Fights I had, people I intimidated, my parents, everyone I harmed in any way - I had to relive it all, and in a way that seemed to savor the finer points.
When seeing all the evil I had done mercifully ended it began again, only this time I was somehow inside my 'victims' while still being outside them as myself as well. It was torture. Every ounce of suffering I'd inflicted was now mine to experience from every point of view. I didn't like it one bit, but the stream continued despite my increasing need to escape. If anything, the more I wanted to run, the more detailed the recounting became.
Finally the process came to where I met Esme. All sorts of hurts and slights became painfully apparent. I'd been so oblivious to it all. I still didn't want to believe my behavior could have been that hurtful. If I'd been that bad how could she have loved me? I clung to her love as my lifeline, even after her good-bye earlier. Nothing is permanent. Everything could be negotiated, right? I just needed to pause long enough to figure out what the leverage was in this instance.
Then came the conversation that changed it all: the day Esme had me meet her in a coffee shop to tell me she was pregnant. We'd been on a "break" - my dumbass move to be able to fuck a brainless bimbo of a cheerleader, guilt free. I'd never dreamed Esme would find someone else in my absence. She'd always waited around before. It was this moment it all changed... the whole plan for my life shattered in this instant. I had to marry her. If I didn't that other fuck-nut might steal her away from me permanently. She came to me, so it must be my baby. Mine. Just like she was mine. It was time to step up to the line and make it official. No more dribbling or practice shots. I couldn't let him win, even if it meant sacrificing my plan. There's always a new plan, after all.
Suddenly my need to avoid reliving everything that had happened from this moment on became too much, overwhelming the control I'd previously exuded, to at least a small degree. I twisted and flailed, shocked when I found myself in an unceremonious heap in the dust.
"He damned me! It was all his fault! His fucking conception damned me to second best!"
"No Carlisle… you damned yourself."
The scorn in her voice and eyes bewildered and enraged me. NO! No it wasn't my fault. I'd sacrificed it all for that ungrateful whelp who had done nothing but take everything from me!
Suddenly I found myself in a little body, my previous confusion taking on a new tenor. I was staring after a tall retreating form, Daddy. Daddy was yelling at Edward. I knew I had been wondering internally, in an unfocused sort of way, how the hell I could make sure Edward turn out like I wanted him to while I harangued him for some piddling little shit.
Thousands of such scenes played out. Sometimes they were mild, other times they were intense. Those times were usually when I'd been in a pissy mood or hacked off at the kid. What was the hardest was how damn hard he tried to impress me... to earn my love. I did love the little shit.
Hadn't my sacrifices shown that? Fuck!
The years passed. The moments became more intense, more emotionally and physically harsh. The experience left me feeling as though the flesh of my chest had been flayed off one thin layer at a time. I twisted and turned desperate to escape the pain. Wedged in were the moments with Esme; interactions with co-workers; the death of my father and everything surrounding his passing, along with other events both momentous and small. I marked time by noting my graduation from Medical school, our move back to Forks, working at the Hospital, sitting on the town council, my first Mayoral election. Unlike before, now I was forced to see how all of it riddled with hidden pains and terrors for those I had power over. I'd been quite successful at only allowing myself to see these effects only when it furthered my own purposes.
Next up in the parade of torture was the moment I'd been dreading the most. That morning when The Call came; the morning I lost her. The emotional pain of losing her both as myself and as Edward simultaneously shattered me to my core. If I'd not already been told I'd lost my soul I would have sworn that's what I was experiencing now. The torment was inescapable and seeing who I'd become began to affect even the me I was now. The conscience I'd worked so very hard to bury reared its head from its hiding spot, and I despised myself. I despised the potential I'd squandered.
Then the first blow hit me. The pain, humiliation, anxiety cracked open my chest and left me gaping and raw. When he became just like me, while still trying to protect that part of himself that was most like her,it felt like the dry desert heat was sapping the very moisture from my very being. I relived every push, every shove, broken bone, punch and slap in vivid 4-D, HD, emotional "Technicolor". It was too much. I couldn't take it anymore.
My mind flashed through every push, every shove, and every punch to my gut, every broken rib I had dealt to Edward…
I flopped like a stranded fish on the ground, tearing at my face, hair and body. There was no escape.
Just as a part of me felt relief my own personal documentary was ending, and we were nearing my death scene, I began squirming under my denial of Edward any chance at what I'd had with Esme... it would keep him from fulfilling my needs for him... I couldn't permit it! The bitch would make him soft... distract him from our goals!
I sensed Heidi standing over me again.
"And now the real fun begins, Carlisle. Now you get to see what you missed by turning your back on the potential you were gifted with."
How could she sound so damn gleeful over my suffering?
Soon I knew. If I thought it was bad before it was nothing compared to seeing just how good it would have been if I was... well, good.
Esme wouldn't have worried about going back home for the damned gloves that day. We would have lived out our days together, our love deepening into something truly amazing over time. Edward would have blossomed under our love; becoming not only a professional soccer star, but a celebrated artist as well. His children would have been the lights of my eyes, another source of such heart-swelling pride... and love. The love in my life would have been magnified not only at home, but also in the community I served.
I was left laying in the blazing sun of the desert salt flat, my chest gaping, my missing heart ripped out and charred to grey ash before my eyes. The sun never moved from its spot high in the sky, beating down unmercifully, illuminating every particle of my mistakes and the evil I brought to my life and those who had the unfortunate fate of being involved with me.
I lay panting, sobbing, my mouth as dry as my eyes, every muscle contracted with the pain of my innumerable sins. I had the presence of mind to wonder dully what was next. I was smart enough to know this couldn't be it. I was right.
Oh, God, was I right.
It started as a trickle so slight I wasn't really even sure I was hearing it until the sound expanded became a rushing sound, like water... only I wasn't to be allowed a watery respite. My head jerked to the side looking for the source of the noise. I saw Heidi standing several yards away, her hands on her hips and a wide grin on her perfect face. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at me, sarcastically wishing me luck and Bon Voyage.
Where was I going?
Then I felt it. The ground under me became somewhat soft all of a sudden. Holy Hell! The once rock hard salt underneath me began leaking away like the sands of an hourglass. Just as the realization struck I became mired in the gripping silt, unable to move effectively. I fought against it as my torso was enveloped, struggling to swim against the "current" of the moving sand. A large circle had formed with me at the lowest point in the center.
Was I going to be buried alive?
Once again, almost in response to my thoughts, the answer came. I was invisibly squeezed, reminiscent of being re-born only to land on a jagged pinnacle of stone, the rest of the grains falling away over the sides. I turned and crouched peering over the edge. Below me were only flames... a veritable sea of fire filled with tortured souls writing in burning brimstone. Well, shit, I always thought this was a myth told just to control the gullible.
I screamed as the stone slab I was perched on began to crumble and tip me to fall thousands of feet into the flames below. "Oh, God! I'm sorry... I'm sorry! I take it back, please! Please noooo!" Flailing, I fought hard to keep my balance.
Above me Heidi laughed as she called down to me as I fell... "A little late for a 'come to Jesus' meeting, isn't it Carlisle?"
Fuck this! No way was I cowering before this bitch!
"You're a real cunt, you know that?" I shouted up at her as I fell. I wasn't going down without one more in your face, bitch. After all, I am mother-fucking Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I turned both middle fingers up at her, to hide the abject terror behind my eyes, and smiled just before being consumed and pulled apart by thousands of boney tormented fingers.
She laughed harder. "Payback is a real bitch, isn't it?"
A/N: *MWHAHAHAAA* So, how'd it work for ya? Hope the few details that are suddenly OOC/AU after chapter 101 didn't get in the way for you all.
As for why I did it this way, well, for all Savage's story REALLY inspires some hard core vigilante justice for Ass-lisle I just couldn't go there, but then the image of his block getting knocked off to bounce down the street like a soccer ball and the torture of facing the very depths of what he'd done came to me and seemed way too fitting. I got all bouncy and couldn't resist joining the fun of making Bad Daddy C pay.
Huge thanks to my beloved Twifie, TwilliteAddict, and the Rockin' GasawayAlley lending their awesomesauce talents to helping me tighten this baby up for submission. Smooches to Viola Cornuta for getting out her "that paddle" and "box o'commas" to keep me all neat and tidy; as well as hugs/kisses to the lovely BilliCullen and TwiFanUK for their pre-reading feedback. No fun as good as shared fun, eh! ;D
To check out the other fabulous entries please go to: http:/ www(.)fanfiction(.)net/u/3113906/DieDaddyCDie Voting runs August 15 through August 23, 2011.
Last but certainly not least, an ENORMOUS thanks to Savage for inviting us to come play with her! You rock, bb! Good luck to all my fellow entrants, and thanks for reading!
I'd love to hear what your responses to my version of events are, good or bad (but save your flames for Carlisle, please! lol). Review button below!