Red Room ₪ Breaking Dawn Fanfiction

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭

Chapter Nineteen —— 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭

Bloodlust – the disease that makes us the monsters we are known to be; it is what wipes away the last of our humanity.
——Daniele Lanzarotta, Bloodlust (Imprinted Souls, #2)

They came with pageantry, with a kind of beauty.

They came in a rigid, formal formation. They moved together, but it was not a march; they flowed in perfect synchronicity from the trees—a dark, unbroken shape that seemed to hover a few inches above the white snow, so smooth was the advance.

The outer perimeter was gray; the color darkened with each line of bodies until the heart of the formation was the deepest black. Every face was cowled, shadowed. The faint brushing sound of their feet was so regular it was like music, a complicated beat that never faltered.

The gray-cloaked figures spread to the flanks while the darker forms surged precisely forward in the center, each movement closely controlled.

Their progress was slow but deliberate, with no hurry, no tension, no anxiety. It was the pace of the invincible.

I couldn't help counting. There were thirty-two of them.

We outnumbered them by having fourteen extra people.

"The redcoats are coming, the redcoats are coming," Garrett muttered mysteriously to himself and then chuckled once.

He slid one step closer to Kate.

"They did come," Vladimir whispered to Stefan.

"The wives," Stefan hissed back. "The entire guard. All of them together. It's well we didn't try Volterra." He said.

And then, as if their numbers were not enough, while the Volturi are slowly and majestically advancing, more vampires began entering the clearing behind them.

The faces in this seemingly endless influx of vampires were the antithesis to the Volturi's expressionless discipline—they wore a kaleidoscope of emotions.

At first, there was shock and even some anxiety as they saw the unexpected force awaiting them. But that concern passed quickly; they were secure in their overwhelming numbers, confident in their position behind the unstoppable Volturi force. Their features returned to the expression they'd worn before we'd surprised them.

It was easy enough to understand their mindset—the faces were that explicit. This was an angry mob, whipped to a frenzy and slavering for justice.

It was clear that this motley, disorganized horde—more than forty vampires altogether —was the Volturi's kind of witness. When we were dead, they would spread the word that the criminals had been eradicated, that the Volturi had acted with nothing but impartiality. Most looked like they hoped for more than just an opportunity to witness— they wanted to help tear and burn.