A/N: Hello, my dears. This here is a random little one-shot of none other than Mrs. Esme Cullen. A friend of mine had brought up the thought of Esme being one of those housewives that no one suspects when their family is murdered, and I had to agree. I also had to write this fanfic. I couldn't resist the idea. This is a gory, twisted fanfic that may be unsettling to younger readers. Now that that's out of the way, on with the story. Read, review, but most importantly, enjoy.
This is for you, Al! xx
No one would ever suspect Esme Cullen.
She was a loving mother of five and all of her children loved her. Her husband, Carlisle, loved her just as much.
Everyone was wrapped around Esme Cullen's finger. Along with a loving family, she had many good friends that trusted her. She just didn't trust them back.
No one ever suspected Esme Cullen of anything wrong, and no one ever would.
Esme had her "special plans" mapped out for four months now. She had thought about it every day and every night. She had everything planned perfectly. When to do the act, where to put the remainders...Esme was clever, sharp as a knife, and incredibly quick. She didn't feel bad about any of this now, though.
That night was dark and promising, like an immense storm was approaching. Esme didn't break into a sweat as she tightened her tools on her belt. These tools would get the job done. Two knives seemed to be enough.
Mommy's home, she thought as she entered Edward's bedroom, gently closing the door behind her.
Edward was always annoying, ever since he was an infant. He was now thirteen, and Esme didn't mind taking care of Edward first.
Edward was almost silent - almost - as Esme put one of her knives under his throat and quickly sliced through Edward's skin. She heard a muffled choking sound as she stuck the knife into his throat, right through the middle. One quick stab to the heart would end him for sure.
When Esme was finished, she put her head down to her gory son and listened for his heart beat.
There wasn't one.
Next was Jasper. Esme felt some pity for Jasper, her seventeen-year-old son, but she knew she had to do this. Something in her heart (if she even had one) knew that this had to be done. She took care of Jasper the same way she had taken care of Edward, holding back tears this time.
Rosalie and Emmett, at fifteen and sixteen, were killed quickly, so quickly that Esme had no thoughts or emotions on it. No remorse for anything. Esme did, however, feel smart for murdering them in their sleep. Then again, suffocating them would have been a lot less messy.
Then came Alice, the youngest. At just six years old, Alice was a gorgeous child. She would have had a great life ahead of her, surrounded by her protective family. The Cullen family was almost like a family on a television show. They seemed perfect on the outside, but when you looked into the inside it was far from perfect. Lies, betrayal, and secrets was what had torn the family to shreds and pushed Esme too far. Alice's future was all coming to an end now, though. Esme would have spared Alice, but not everything worked out. And Esme was different now. She'd been different for the past four months.
Carlisle was last. Carlisle was also the source of Esme's pain. Esme retreated back to the bedroom she shared with her husband. She would make sure to make his treatment extra special.
Esme knew that Carlisle had cheated. On the outside, he was the perfect husband, it seemed. But his dirty little secrets couldn't be kept for long, and Esme had found out. They had tried to shield it away from the kids, but every one of them (except Alice) knew. Carlisle stumbling into the house late at night and sometimes after days made it obvious. Carlisle was up to no good.
Esme put her favorite lipstick on. It was Carlisle's favorite, too. That was why she knew this had to be the last thing he felt before the pain. She kissed him softly on the forehead.
Don't you dare forget me.
Then Esme took one of her bloody knives and stuck it through Carlisle's heart first. His disgusting, hideous heart. Carlisle had went with his heart and unloved Esme. Carlisle had to feel the pain through his heart first.
Carlisle choked; Esme was smug.
Carlisle was dead in only a matter of minutes. Esme made sure to take care of him thoroughly, just as he had thoroughly broken her heart.
Esme dragged Carlisle out to her car first. He was heavy, but Esme was strong. She made sure to carry the rest of the deceased bodies of her family members out quietly and quickly. They were going somewhere that they wouldn't be found. And Esme was going with them.
It took hours to get there, and she wasn't caught once, but Esme finally made it.
The Pacific Ocean was right there in front of Esme as she drove down the street, headed toward the beach.
Esme didn't hesitate to stop; she drove straight onto the beach.
Into the water.
As deep as she could drive.
In a way, she was happy. Relieved. Finally.
A/N: Do you like it? Do you hate it? Tell me your thoughts in a review.