Paranormal Fate

Chapter 2: Surprise?

Hey

I got one comment last chapter but I noticed this story added to peoples libraries and so I'm posting this. My friend also asked me too and since I already had it typed out... Yeah, anyways, Please please please comment or even vote! It makes me feel good.

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own The Twilight Saga, SM does.

Chapter Two: Surprise?

It was day one on finding our ‘rose’ spirit.

I was currently sprawled out on my motel room’s floor, surrounded by newspapers and printed website clippings. They included anything having to do with murderers and suspected killers in 1934, Rochester. Angela was propped up on pillows on my dark wood framed double bed. Her lap was full of more papers.

Ben went to go pick up dinner at the Chinese restaurant down the street. He gave me specific instructions to call him if Angela started feeling bad. Therefore, I had my cell phone resting on the cream carpet next to my folded arms.

“Have you found anything Alice?” Angela asked from her resting spot, glancing over at me.

I shook my head and looked up at her. “How do you feel?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Why do people always ask me that every two seconds?”

“Because as a pregnant woman, people are concerned about you,” I replied, giving her a pointed look.

She sighed and looked down at the newspaper clipping in her hand. “Ali, what was this girl’s full name?”

“Um Rosalie Lillian Hale, I believe.”

“I have her birth announcement in my hands. ‘Rosalie Lillian Hale was born on July 24, 1915, daughter of Jonathan and Margaret Hale.’ It says their parents welcomed their new child with open arms. So it couldn’t be that she was neglected,” Angela observed.

I simply nodded and turned back to look over the various clippings and slips of paper. As I stared at the blurry words and titles, things started changing. Bold head lines stood out from browning slips of curled papers as if I was wearing 3-D glasses and small words danced off the pages in complex movements around my head.

“Alice?” Angela asked, concerned for my alarmed expression. “What’s wrong?”

“The words, they’re moving. Grab a pad of paper and write down what I tell you.” I heard rustling on the bed and suspected that Angela reached for a blank pad of white paper.

“Okay, tell me what you see,” she commanded.

“Fiancée, King, wedding, beautiful, blood, nightfall is the suspected hour, raped by an unnamed group, and children,” I quickly named off the words as I saw them, some of them repeated many times.

“Well I think someone or something is trying to help us solve this case,” Angela mumbled, sounding breathless.

I looked up at her. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, the baby kicked. She moves a lot, I bet she’ll be just like her father when she’s older.”

I smiled. “Well, kicking is common during the seventh month.”

She nodded and looked over at the door just as it opened. “I smell food!”

I laughed at her expression; I wouldn’t be surprised if there was drool dripping down her chin. Angela was a devoted lover of food, her pregnancy demanding four or five meals a day, instead of the regular three.