The Edge of Insanity | Rosalie Hale

Chapter 6: Beyond Words

Daniel didn't know much about his father. The only memory he had of him was a raised fist and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He knew hatred, a cold fury that simmered whenever he thought about the man. The monster who used to beat his mom had simply vanished three years before the war, leaving a trail of unanswered questions and a mother left to pick up the pieces.

He never bothered searching for the man. Years melted away, and the assumption settled in - the war, old age, it hardly mattered. Even if a miracle intervened, the man would be pushing eighty. Yet, the thought of his father, somewhere out there, possibly living a full life, gnawed at Daniel. It was an unsettling irony, a man who brought so much suffering potentially enjoying a peaceful existence. The cold fury that usually simmered within him flared hotter at the thought. He couldn't explain it, but the idea of his father living a good life, while his mother carried a terrible fate, felt like a cruel joke. Daniel silently wished for the worst, a morbid counterpoint to the life his father stole from them.

The front door slammed shut behind Emmet, the echo bouncing off the quiet street and stopping his train of thought. Daniel lingered for a moment, a flicker of longing tugging at him. The scent of roses, faint but unmistakable, teased his senses. Rosalie's golden eyes, the hint of something unexpected in their depths, replayed in his mind.

Emmett's voice cut through his thoughts. "Alright, Romeo, what are we waiting for? Let's go catch some vamps!"

Daniel forced a smile, the longing a bitter taste in his mouth. "Lead the way, big guy," he replied, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his tailored suit. Stepping out into the cool night air, they walked to the main street of the city.

Minutes bled into hours, a comfortable silence blanketing them as they patrolled the deserted streets. Just as Daniel's senses began to dull, a piercing scream ripped through the night.

They made eye contact and left in a blur to the source of the sound. However, when they got there nothing was there. Only their shadows and the corpse of three blood-drained adults left in the streets. Daniel yelled in frustration, how could the vampire escape? They were right around the corner, it made no sense.

Meanwhile, Emmet was trying to find a scent, a clue, anything of value that could at least give them a sense of who this mystery vampire was. Suddenly, they heard sirens nearby. The murderer had called the cops, another trademark of his killings. This was why this was such a problem. He killed, didn't clean after himself and then called the authorities to mock them. The humans were always left confused, how could someone drain the blood of more than 25 people in less than a month? It was imperative to stop this before the rouge gave too much away to the authorities.

With great efficiency, they disposed of the bodies. Disappearing into the dense forest, they dug a deep enough grave to conceal the evidence and deter scavengers. A sliver of unease flickered across Emmett's golden eyes – a stark contrast to his usual energetic demeanor.

Daniel, however, felt a cold knot of frustration tighten in his gut. He was Daniel Volturi, a fearsome enforcer for the most powerful vampire coven in existence. His mere name brought fear to his victims, a chilling reminder of the Volturi's wrath. But here, on this seemingly insignificant mission, he was rendered impotent. A soldier stripped of his purpose, his frustration gnawed at him, morphing into a simmering self-loathing.

Emmett's hand landed on Daniel's shoulder, interrupting his brooding. "Come on," he said, his voice a gentle nudge. "We should report this to the others. Maybe they have some insight."

Emmett's timing was impeccable. He knew, perhaps from eavesdropping on Alice and Edward's conversations a few weeks back, that Daniel was gonna be of importance to the coven, especially to Rosalie. Emmett saw Daniel as a potential game-changer for them. So, hoping to soothe his companion, he casually mentioned the coven.

It worked. Daniel's demeanor shifted. "Yes," he agreed, a flicker of something new igniting in his steely gaze. "Let's go talk to your family."

–

They returned to the house, the silence of their failure hanging heavy in the air. Daniel and Emmett recounted the night's events, their voices laced with a growing unease. The missing scent, the absence of escape sounds – it gnawed at them, a chilling puzzle with no solution. As he spoke, frustration coiled tighter within Daniel, squeezing the air from his lungs. He felt like a failure.

Unable to contain the storm brewing inside him, Daniel bolted through the back door. He stumbled towards a gnarled, ancient tree – its presence somehow grounding him in his spiraling despair. A scream tore from his throat, a raw eruption of anguish and frustration. It echoed through the night, a lament for his impotence, a desperate howl against the darkness.

The mocking whispers began, slithering into his ears and painting him a picture of failure. Scornful laughter echoed in his skull, a torment he couldn't escape. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to silence the phantoms, but the darkness was only filled with mocking shapes that danced at the edges of his vision.

Driven by rage and desperation, Daniel lashed out, his fist connecting with the rough bark of the tree beside him. The blow resonated through the night, a deafening crack that echoed through the woods. Still reeling, he felt a presence behind him, followed by a gentle touch on his shoulder.

He spun around, the voices dissolving instantly at the sight of the newcomer. Disbelief warred with a flicker of hope within him. "Rosalie?" he breathed, the despair momentarily forgotten.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

He stared at her, the question hanging unanswered. Instead, the words tumbled out, raw and desperate. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" she tilted her head in confusion.

"Bring peace to my soul." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Rosalie's breath hitched in her throat. Words seemed to abandon her entirely. An undeniable urge bloomed within her – a desire to mirror his vulnerability, to confess how his presence soothed the turmoil within her own soul. But before she could voice her thoughts, her arms moved on their own accord, wrapping him in a warm embrace. It was the tightest, most comforting hold Daniel had ever experienced, a stark contrast to the icy feeling of his own body.

As they pulled away, a hesitant smile touched Rosalie's lips. Taking his hand, she led him deeper into the woods. They emerged beside a gurgling stream, the sound soothing in the quiet night. Here, amidst the rustling leaves and the gentle flow of water, Rosalie yearned to delve into his past, to understand the man beneath the stoic exterior. But before she could voice her questions, Daniel spoke.

"Forgive my outburst," his voice was a deep rumble laced with regret. "It was utterly improper." He paused, then continued, his voice softer now. "This gift I possess, it comes with a terrible price."

Rosalie didn't need to answer. Empathy flowed between them, a silent language understood on a deeper level. She leaned her head against his shoulder, offering a wordless comfort that spoke volumes. In that quiet gesture, a silent promise bloomed – a vow to be a refuge for each other in the storms they both harbored within. Daniel, for the first time in a very long time, felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. Gratitude welled up, a silent thank you for the solace she so unexpectedly offered. He then gave up on the idea of keeping his stern façade, and ever so softly, rested his chin on her head.

Author's note:

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