Edward Cullen, meet... Becca

Warning: If you are massive fan of Twilight, stop reading now. My OC read the book, and boy was she pissed. This is the result. Incidentally, you can find my OC here: http://mrs-sin.deviantart.com/art/Diseased-Chapter-1-143365480?q=&qo=

“Becca?” Simon’s voice jolted her out of her meditative trance. She scowled; he knew better than to interrupt her. He cut in before she could yell at him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender. “But I really thought you should see this.” He handed her a book. Black, with a pair of out-of-focus grey hands holding a startlingly red apple, the title simply read ‘Twilight.’ “Have a read, see what you think.”

An hour later…

The book flew through the open doorway, straight at his head. It was only because he’d heard the inevitable shout of rage that he knew to duck. He swivelled away from his computer to face her, hoping she’d ask questions first.

“There had better have been a good reason for handing me that.” Becca snarled at him as she stormed through the door. The tattered remains of the book sat in a forlorn pile by Simon’s foot. He grinned.

“There’s always a good reason for anything I do.” He replied, and swivelled back to his computer. “I did a bit of searching and a lot of hacking, and discovered something remarkable; the story is true.”

Something slammed into the back of his head.

“What did you hit me for?” He yelped.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon; that trash can’t be true.”

“It is, and what’s more, there’s another three books.” Becca just gaped at him.

“Ok, if it’s true, then why has it been published?” She asked finally. Again Simon faced his computer, quick fingers bringing up pages and pages.

“Well, if it’s published as a piece of fiction then nobody suspects otherwise. Except me. I’d heard the name ‘Cullen’ before, but I couldn’t remember where. When I looked on a particular site, I hit a block. Damn difficult one to get past, as well. Hardly surprising, when you consider that Jasper Cullen used to be an assassin for dear old US of A. Once I’d found that, it wasn’t hard to find the files on the rest of them. They’re kept under watch, but not too much, because they’re deemed ‘safe’. Possibly because they’re -” he snorted. “- vegetarian vampires.” Becca clipped him round the back of his head again absent-mindedly while she stared at the page containing all the vital statistics. Edward Cullen, still residing in Forks, now divorced… Divorced? He must have married that air-head… Damn. She was hoping she could have ripped her to pieces as well… Shame.

“Simon, get me on a plane tonight. I’m going to go and meet this Edward.”

Nine hours later, in Forks

Edward sighed. The divorce had been messy, and Renesmee still wasn’t talking to him. Neither was Jacob, but that was nothing new. He just didn’t understand how Bella’s love for him could have faded… he sighed again and took a long swig from the bottle on the table. Right now he really wished he could sleep, sleep and forget it all… Why couldn’t Alice have foreseen this? Or, if she had, why hadn’t she told him? No matter. What had happened, had happened, and there was no use trying to blame other people.

“Edward Cullen?” A voice behind him made him jump and spin around, poised for attack. Behind him stood a sultry-looking young woman, dressed to kill. Clearly no threat. He relaxed.

“That’s me.” he said, and smiled. Maybe he was in with a chance with this one… possibly only a one night sta-

He crashed into the wall hard enough shatter the window and leave a huge dent, with cracks spider-webbing across it. Damn, he hadn’t even seen her move… maybe she was a newborn? He stumbled to his feet and braced himself for another attack, but none came.

She was stood in exactly the same spot she had been two minutes ago, seemingly unmoved. Her blue eyes blazed at him with a rage that he’d never encountered before, not even when Bella was in one of her fits.

“Who are you, and what the hell was that for?” He yelled.

This time the force that knocked him into the wall brought the wall down on top of him. Before he could get to his feet again, he was lifted by an icy grip on the scruff of his neck.

He came face to face with those unforgiving eyes, that started to cloud over as he stared.

“My name is Becca.” She hissed through gritted teeth. “And I’m a real vampire.” With that, she turned, and hurled him through the outside window. He managed to right himself and land on his feet, just as she ploughed into him and drove him to the ground again. She didn’t bother picking him up a second time, she just sat on top of him and punched him, again and again.

“Enough!” he yelled, and with a huge effort threw her off him. He scrambled backwards. “What the hell have I done to deserve this?”

“You exist.” She spat. Her knuckles were bleeding from her blows, and his stomach growled at him. But as he watched, the wounds closed over as if they’d never been there. He stared.

“How the hell did you do that?” He asked, pointing at her hand. She just looked at him, confused. Another thought occurred to him. “Hang on; did you say you’re a ‘real’ vampire?”

She just growled at him in response. He sighed.

“I really don’t know who you are, but I can assure you that I am a real vampire. Now please, leave me alone.” He turned to go into the forest; he was hungry.

“Prove it.” She threw at his back. He turned back to face her. “Prove you’re a real vampire.” He stared at her in disbelief. He’d had some crazy people track him down since that damned book came out, but she just about topped the lot. Apart from that girl that followed him around begging for him to turn her, she was seriously messed up… he shook his head.

“Fine. Come hunting with me.” he snapped, and without waiting for a reply took off running into the forest. His face ached from where she’d laid into him; he’d never been hurt while as a vampire, purely because there was nothing strong enough to hurt him. Now it seems he’d found something that could really do him damage, other than the Wolves that lived on the reserve. He couldn’t figure it out; she’d said she was a ‘real’ vampire… what the hell did that mean? And how was she so strong? She couldn’t be a vampire; her eyes were blue, for one thing, and for another, she bled. Granted, she did heal almost instantly but still…

Well, this should show her, he thought to himself as he scented a moose. He angled towards it, determined to get a good meal. Within to minutes he had the animal in his sights, another thirty seconds and it was down before it knew what had hit it. When he was done he lifted his head and spotted her watching, her face expressionless.

“I see you managed to keep up.” He remarked. “Now are you satisfied?” She snorted.

“No. All I’ve seen you do is hunt a moose, which any human can do, and drink it’s blood, which any mosquito could do.” She said derisively.

“Well, explain to me ho you’re a ‘real’ vampire and I’m not, then!” he shouted, his patience out.

“First off, I am over five thousand years old, created from daemons.” He blinked at that; maybe she was telling the truth. “Secondly, I’m a thousand times stronger than you will ever be because I grow stronger as I grow older. Thirdly, when sunlight touches me, it kills me. I do. Not. Sparkle.” She snarled, her face only inches from his. “And finally, the most important part: I drink human blood.”

“At least I can walk around in Sunlight.” He retorted.

“Which means you’re the one being mistaken for a fairy.” She snapped back, and hit him.

The tree he slammed into cracked and fell on top of him, but she threw that off him as if it was a twig.

“The book mentioned that the only way to kill you is with fire.” She purred. “But I quite like the idea of taking you apart as well…” And launched herself at him.

24 hours later...

One eye blinked at her as she arranged various pieces of flesh into a pile in the lounge of his house. The book had been right about that; his skin was little better than marble. It wasn't natural. She winked back at the eye, and stamped on the finger that was trying to creep back to it's owner.

"No you don't." She murmured, and tossed a match onto the pile.

For a glitter-encrusted statue, he makes really good kindling...