Beast | ᵀʰᵉ ᴼʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡˢ/ᵀʷⁱˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᴱˡⁱʲᵃʰ ᴹⁱᵏᵉᵃˡˢᵒⁿ⁾ [3]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗; 𝚃𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

    They were their parents' children. They shared their looks. Had their personality oozing into their own. It was a disease that could never be altered no matter how hard you tried. You would always be an extension to your parents in any sort of way. Both good and bad.

    Sitting on the roof of the school once more—after she ran from the nurse's office. Shoving the hands away of an unknown person. Rosalice glares at them harshly. Before entirely running away allowing herself to bleed the liquid that was sweets to all that thirsted for blood.

    Legs dangling off the edge. Feeling the bruises on her knuckles starting to heal she pressed them harshly into where the roof switched sides of flatness running down. Keeping them there for longer than what her own body allowed. She needed and sorta wished to be human—that never healed as quickly as this.

    Soft quick heavy footsteps scrapped against the ground. One...two...three...one. Renee's. Rosalice didn't dare lift her head up focusing on continuing the wounds of bruises feeling the sharpness of pain.

    "Did you at least win?" Renee asks settling herself besides her younger twin sister sitting with criss crossed legs a first aid at her side.

    Grumbling that only gave her an answer. Rosalice won. For the fifth time that entire semester. And the child was pretty much either knocked out or possibly sent to the hospital. The two knew there would be a call sent to her home. Her grandpa would convince the headmaster that she had rough edges and just needed to be a little more disciplined and when that didn't work he brought in a friend of his to "help" him.

    Grasping a hold of her twin's hand lifting it up off the ground she begins to tend to it. A wonderful medic. Rosalice thought differently. "No, you're supposed to use the alcoholic wipes to delay the healing." She informs. "You would use cold water and soap on those that can't heal as quickly as we do."

    Reneesme Cullen was all a saint and had a heart of a pure diamond that shines brightly. There was no shattering it until it lost its glow. It would always shine and be blinding. But along with her heart and saintness that she also possessed from their mother was of her patience and stubbornness. Collecting the thoughts in her head she held back a temper if she did have one. Patience running a line like a paintbrush. If her sister wasn't going to talk she would sit there and keep the conversation. If her sister was demanding and ordering her around she plainly listened because that's who Reneesme was. A woman who never lied, a miracle that showed restraint, someone who would never embark in violence unless absolutely necessary.

    Renee went over the wounds with alcoholic wipes, her hands tender as she felt her sister flinch underneath her. Felt as she jerked and tried pulling her hand away only to settle down her nerves reminding herself who was cleaning her wounds and making it look like a human had been hurt and not some animal that was stuck in the in-between world of vampirism and humanism.

    The pain was there reminding her how she was exactly like her father in all bad ways. The way he hunted horrible human beings of killers that wore the same disguise as him. She killed those that harmed her in any shape, way or form. Rosalice believed that she was worse than him. Than them all. That she never belonged to the family she was born into as her mind always held murderous thoughts, always fell back to what the world was only known for in life destruction and war and revenge matched with vendettas.

    It was a language that all knew well. The hardest language to master was the kindness and mercy that seemed to fill the entire Cullen family.

    Yes, Rosalice knew that some members of her family had killed to an extent. None of them the worse as what Jasper had to go through. The only person that had never killed a human was Bella. Carlisle didn't count, Rosalice always counted him killing most of the family by turning them even if they did live.