Vengeance

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

Hellfire.

 

You know how certain moments in life appear to move in slow motion?  It’s almost like your memory is attempting to catalog every intricate detail of that instant by breaking down time.  There had been quite a few of those moments for me in the last two years, more than any other part in my life.

The first was when Edward had saved me from Tyler’s van and had willingly showed me his inhuman strength.  I still remembered how annoyed I had been when he had forced me into a hospital visit.  The second was when James had bitten my hand and sent me into a burning frenzy, but not before breaking my leg and quite a few of my ribs.  Thank goodness the Cullens were there to rip the sadistic freak to pieces.  The third was when I had rushed through the streets of Volterra to save Edward from an untimely death, and in the process had made myself known to the Volturi. 

Then there was the fourth, when Edward and I had married inside the Cullens home.  I could still remember the smell of the flowers hanging from every part of the room, the way Alice’s dress had flowed like a silver waterfall around her, and Rosalie’s golden hair shifting from her shoulder as she had turned to smile in my direction from her place at the piano. I remembered Esme beaming at me with silent tears in her eyes, filling me with warmth and love, and Edward waiting for me at the end of the procession.  I recalled standing in front of Edward, our hands locked, and in his beautiful eyes, I burned with desire.

I burned now—but in a different manner.

If I really looked at it, it had been no different than my current situation.  I had a long walk ahead of me, and had a lot of guilty parties to see before I could face Edward and Carlisle.    

I had been so happy on my wedding day, so hopeful for my little piece of forever with Edward, but all that changed; now, I lay alone in Alaska. 

It had happened sometime during the previous night.  My heartbeats had become faint and far between, and I was in and out of consciousness, when Rosalie entered my room accompanied by several others.  Before I could adequately register what was going on, I felt a sharp pain at the base of my foot.  My responses were delayed due to the illness, and as my body began to acknowledge that something had bitten me on the arch of my foot, the real pain began.

Any stories that the Cullens had told me about the change were forgotten; all anger and rage flew out the window as I was engrossed with the most ungodly form of torture I’d ever experienced.  The liquid fire shot up through my leg and after a few minutes my entire body felt like it was covered in flames.  My mind showed me horrible images of what my body must have looked like: skin melting off the bone, falling to the floor in an oozing mess, and all that remained was a charred skeleton.

My teeth ground together as the feeling of fresh coals, pulling slowly across my skin, forced a blood curdling scream from me.  The good news was the pain in my stomach was gone; the bad news was it had been rudely replaced by this hellfire.

My eyes refused to open and my body denied simple commands for motion, and despite my blindness I spoke into the darkness.  “P-Please, k-kill m-me.” I shuddered into the void and gasped as another set of flames washed over my body.

My nose wrinkled, smelling something strange and sickly sweet.  It stung my nasal cavity and filled my lungs, making me cough uncontrollably.  My oxygen was tainted and muddled by the putrid odor, making it difficult to breathe. 

I remained like this for quite awhile, battling with the agonizing fire, which licked my skin and internal organs willingly.  My brain raced, trying to wonder what had happened to me.  Why was I burning like this?  I tried to remember what happened before this, but the pain was all encompassing and made it difficult for me to think. I was startled by the sound of an opening door, and before I could wonder who it was, someone spoke.