The Descent
by Laura Spudzmom
Warning, Please Read!
This is a DARK fic with material that may bother some people. There are depictions and discussion of cutting in this chapter. If you don't like, or fear it may be a trigger, DON'T READ. Let me also state clearly that while I do struggle with clinical depression, I do not advocate cutting or any form of self harm. Writing is my therapy. If you need help, please seek it. Google is your friend. As for the pairing, it is, as yet, undecided. I'm torn on it myself, so I'll give you a choice between Caius and Jasper. Be sure to include your preference in your review.
I own nothing but the plot.
~ Razor ~
By The Foo Fighters
Sweet and divine,
Razor of mine.
Sweet and divine,
Razor blade shine.
Day after day,
Cutting away,
Day after day,
but anyway…
Chapter 1
I moved through the woods with single-minded determination, not a question in my mind as to my destination or purpose.
For weeks after he left, I sat, staring into nothingness as my mind worked, relentlessly analyzing every minute detail of my every interaction with Edward Cullen, always to arrive at the same conclusion.
He'd never really loved me.
A bitter pill to swallow, that.
Nevertheless, swallow it I had, though it had taken me weeks to do so. Weeks where, at first, I had fought the shadows that slowly encroached upon my broken soul. Now? Now they were my only comfort, filling in the empty space where my heart used to be while giving me focus.
It was around that time that I began cutting.
Smirking coldly as I continued my trek, I remembered a time when I'd been appalled at the thought of anyone doing such a thing, but I soon discovered, as with many things in this journey we call living, one can never understand until one arrives, and suddenly, it all makes perfect sense.
Some think to mask the shadows with drugs, seeking to plunge themselves into numbness… nothingness… but me? I chose to embrace them—make them mine, and I found cutting to be a perfect way to accomplish that.
The cold metal of the razor as I held it, the bite of the blade as it slid through my skin, and finally, the welling blood; red, rich and full of the life I no longer wanted—it was cathartic, empowering, freeing, and I anticipated that release more each time I sought it.
As with most things done for fulfillment, the practice soon became insufficient, and my mind worked frantically once more for an answer to my growing dilemma; what could possibly satisfy my need for darkness? I arrived at three options: The taking of a life, the taking of my own life, or gaining the death of the undead.
I stopped for a moment and retrieved a bottle of water from my pack, drinking deeply as I surveyed my location.
I didn't have far left to go, and that brought a smile to my face. After one more pull, I placed the bottle back in the pack and continued on, both with my trek and my thoughts.
My options… Honestly, all three had a certain appeal but I had thrown out the first simply because I had no desire to be locked up for the rest of my miserable life, whether it be prison or a mental facility. I quickly concluded that such a potential outcome defeated my purpose for the act, and so it was eliminated.
The remaining two I looked upon with equal interest as they both would ultimately free me from this mundane human existence, but the last option—the one that was now my goal—had the added appeal for potential revenge and that—that—had sealed the deal.
My pace quickened as my surroundings became more familiar. I was almost to the meadow. I would arrive within minutes now.
My thoughts turned to Jake as I continued walking.
During my time of somnambulistic contemplations, I had put together the many clues he had dropped over the months. I now had a decent idea of what he was; a wolf of some sort: The enemy of, and protector against what I now sought to become, to be more specific.
I had called him before leaving Charlie's house, in the guise of saying hello. The real objective was to bait him into following me, after all, my goal was to be changed, not killed and so I would most likely require a rescuer.
Admittedly, I was taking a chance, but what the hell? What did I really have to lose that I wasn't prepared to give willingly? Nothing. But if my gamble worked out, and things fell into place the way I hoped, I would be well on my way to immortality by the end of this day.
I knew, based on the many animal attacks Charlie had dealt with lately, there was a vampire in the area. I also knew, to their kind, I was a rare and desirable vintage. I was banking on it being so. I smirked bitterly as I finally broke through the tree line and into the meadow, my thoughts touching on Jasper; black-eyed, gloriously terrifying, and feral in his lust for it… Yes, he certainly seemed drawn to my blood. 'Here's hoping he ain't the only one,' I thought.
I looked around the meadow as I made my way toward the center. It was dead, desolate, a shadow of its former glory and I couldn't help but think how aptly it represented my soul. 'What a fitting place for it all to end.'
Satisfaction filled me at the thought.
Setting my pack down, I knelt and unzipped the front pocket, my fingers careful as they sought and drew out my comfort; my razor.
Drawing back my sleeve and placing the edge down, I watched in fascination as the skin separates behind the light trail of the blade, blood welling in its wake to pool and run down my arm. I had chosen an area I knew would bleed easily while not pose a threat to life. My desire was not to end myself at this time after all, but rather to entice.
Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes and let the blade fall from my fingers, my ears alert for any sign my gamble had worked. Ultimately, it wasn't any sound my ears heard, but the feel of a sudden movement of air that alerted me I was no longer alone and I smiled as I opened my eyes to meet the red gaze of Laurent.
"Bellaaaa," he drew out my name like a sensuous caress and I held his gaze, unafraid as I answered.
"Laurent."
He circled me slowly, his hand caressing my cheek as he finally halted in front of me. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"
I smiled and held out my bloody arm in offering.
"Waiting… for you."
I watched as inky blackness overtook the red in his eyes as he took in my scent and he smiled, his razor-sharp teeth on full display as he spoke the words I longed to hear.
"My pleasure."
This is a DARK fic with material that may bother some people. There are depictions and discussion of cutting in this chapter. If you don't like, or fear it may be a trigger, DON'T READ. Let me also state clearly that while I do struggle with clinical depression, I do not advocate cutting or any form of self harm. Writing is my therapy. If you need help, please seek it. Google is your friend. As for the pairing, it is, as yet, undecided. I'm torn on it myself, so I'll give you a choice between Caius and Jasper. Be sure to include your preference in your review.
I own nothing but the plot.
~ Razor ~
By The Foo Fighters
Sweet and divine,
Razor of mine.
Sweet and divine,
Razor blade shine.
Day after day,
Cutting away,
Day after day,
but anyway…
Chapter 1
I moved through the woods with single-minded determination, not a question in my mind as to my destination or purpose.
For weeks after he left, I sat, staring into nothingness as my mind worked, relentlessly analyzing every minute detail of my every interaction with Edward Cullen, always to arrive at the same conclusion.
He'd never really loved me.
A bitter pill to swallow, that.
Nevertheless, swallow it I had, though it had taken me weeks to do so. Weeks where, at first, I had fought the shadows that slowly encroached upon my broken soul. Now? Now they were my only comfort, filling in the empty space where my heart used to be while giving me focus.
It was around that time that I began cutting.
Smirking coldly as I continued my trek, I remembered a time when I'd been appalled at the thought of anyone doing such a thing, but I soon discovered, as with many things in this journey we call living, one can never understand until one arrives, and suddenly, it all makes perfect sense.
Some think to mask the shadows with drugs, seeking to plunge themselves into numbness… nothingness… but me? I chose to embrace them—make them mine, and I found cutting to be a perfect way to accomplish that.
The cold metal of the razor as I held it, the bite of the blade as it slid through my skin, and finally, the welling blood; red, rich and full of the life I no longer wanted—it was cathartic, empowering, freeing, and I anticipated that release more each time I sought it.
As with most things done for fulfillment, the practice soon became insufficient, and my mind worked frantically once more for an answer to my growing dilemma; what could possibly satisfy my need for darkness? I arrived at three options: The taking of a life, the taking of my own life, or gaining the death of the undead.
I stopped for a moment and retrieved a bottle of water from my pack, drinking deeply as I surveyed my location.
I didn't have far left to go, and that brought a smile to my face. After one more pull, I placed the bottle back in the pack and continued on, both with my trek and my thoughts.
My options… Honestly, all three had a certain appeal but I had thrown out the first simply because I had no desire to be locked up for the rest of my miserable life, whether it be prison or a mental facility. I quickly concluded that such a potential outcome defeated my purpose for the act, and so it was eliminated.
The remaining two I looked upon with equal interest as they both would ultimately free me from this mundane human existence, but the last option—the one that was now my goal—had the added appeal for potential revenge and that—that—had sealed the deal.
My pace quickened as my surroundings became more familiar. I was almost to the meadow. I would arrive within minutes now.
My thoughts turned to Jake as I continued walking.
During my time of somnambulistic contemplations, I had put together the many clues he had dropped over the months. I now had a decent idea of what he was; a wolf of some sort: The enemy of, and protector against what I now sought to become, to be more specific.
I had called him before leaving Charlie's house, in the guise of saying hello. The real objective was to bait him into following me, after all, my goal was to be changed, not killed and so I would most likely require a rescuer.
Admittedly, I was taking a chance, but what the hell? What did I really have to lose that I wasn't prepared to give willingly? Nothing. But if my gamble worked out, and things fell into place the way I hoped, I would be well on my way to immortality by the end of this day.
I knew, based on the many animal attacks Charlie had dealt with lately, there was a vampire in the area. I also knew, to their kind, I was a rare and desirable vintage. I was banking on it being so. I smirked bitterly as I finally broke through the tree line and into the meadow, my thoughts touching on Jasper; black-eyed, gloriously terrifying, and feral in his lust for it… Yes, he certainly seemed drawn to my blood. 'Here's hoping he ain't the only one,' I thought.
I looked around the meadow as I made my way toward the center. It was dead, desolate, a shadow of its former glory and I couldn't help but think how aptly it represented my soul. 'What a fitting place for it all to end.'
Satisfaction filled me at the thought.
Setting my pack down, I knelt and unzipped the front pocket, my fingers careful as they sought and drew out my comfort; my razor.
Drawing back my sleeve and placing the edge down, I watched in fascination as the skin separates behind the light trail of the blade, blood welling in its wake to pool and run down my arm. I had chosen an area I knew would bleed easily while not pose a threat to life. My desire was not to end myself at this time after all, but rather to entice.
Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes and let the blade fall from my fingers, my ears alert for any sign my gamble had worked. Ultimately, it wasn't any sound my ears heard, but the feel of a sudden movement of air that alerted me I was no longer alone and I smiled as I opened my eyes to meet the red gaze of Laurent.
"Bellaaaa," he drew out my name like a sensuous caress and I held his gaze, unafraid as I answered.
"Laurent."
He circled me slowly, his hand caressing my cheek as he finally halted in front of me. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"
I smiled and held out my bloody arm in offering.
"Waiting… for you."
I watched as inky blackness overtook the red in his eyes as he took in my scent and he smiled, his razor-sharp teeth on full display as he spoke the words I longed to hear.
"My pleasure."
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.