The Twilight Saga

banner by Mrs Sky Cullen - ABSOLUTELY FANTABULOUS!!!!


The family is coming back together, and life is returning to normal...but are the Cullen's really in control of the situation? The answer, of course, is no.

You think you're in control?
THINK AGAIN


banner from Megan's gallery - thanx Megan!

CONTENTS
Discussion: Prologue
Pg 1: Chap 1
Pg 2: Chap 2
Pg 3: Chaps 3, 4, 5
Pg 4: Chaps 6, 7

Pg 5: Chaps 8, 9
, 10
Pg 6: Chaps 11,
12, 13

Prologue:

Esme:


I never realised how exhausting a day on this island could be. It was only mid-afternoon and, despite the fact that we hadn't been walking for very long, my feet ached with every step. Carlisle quickly noticed my lagging behind and offered to carry me back to the house. I quickly accepted, of course, and soon enough he was filling the enormous bathtub with all manner of perfumes and salts.

"You are an angel," I murmured, sinking into the water and taking a deep breath of the mixture of scents. It was not as strong now as it had once been - I missed that - but it was still soothing. I shut my eyes and slid deeper, so that I was almost up to my chin in the wonderful warm water.
"Would you like me to leave?" Carlisle offered.

"No, you're fine." Why waste concentration speaking when I could let my mind wander with this glorious relaxation? I rested my head on the edge of the tub and waved my arms through the water. I relished the feeling of the current over my skin; it was so much easier to appreciate the water's softness with human skin.

Carlisle's quiet chuckle joined the multitude of soft and calming thoughts in my head.

"You're purring," he told me quietly. I pictured the smile on his face, and I smiled too; I was glad my happiness mad him happy. I told him so, though my speaking function was somewhat numbed by the tranquillity of my mind, and he kissed my forehead and told me that my existence made him happy.


In that image of peace and contentment, Carlisle and I spent almost an hour in the bathroom, talking to each other about all kinds of things. We seamlessly avoided anything related to the last two years of our lives; such thoughts made this peace impossible. That was one of the reasons I loved this island; it was the perfect piece of paradise in a turbulent and sometimes cruel world. No matter how bad things got, Isle Esme made it better; you could forget the world. You could truly relax, be honestly and totally happy: the perfect sanctuary. I climbed out of the tub and pulled a towel around myself, blushing as I felt Carlisle's eyes track me to the door. Before I could say anything, he started reciting one of Shakespeare's most well-known sonnets -and one of my personal favourites.


Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

and summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines

and often is his gold complexion dimmed;

and even fair from fair sometimes declines

by chance or nature's changing course untrimmed.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st.

Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade

when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


I felt myself tearing up as the sonnet progressed; by the end I was sobbing.

"Esme, what's wrong?" Carlisle crooned, wrapping his arm around my hips and drawing me closer to him.

I buried my face in his neck and cried.

"Thy eternal summer shall not fade...nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade," I choked. "I don't want to leave you, Carlisle. Ever. I don't care if it's not for a hundred years."
"Esme, we've discussed this," he said quietly, holding me at arms' length. "I don't want to try and change you until I'm certain it will work. I have seen werewolves die from vampire venom - only a few, but it does happen - and I don't want that happening to you."
"But I'm going to die anyway!"

"Not that way!" Carlisle insisted. "Trust me, it's torture only the strongest of hearts would get through. Yours has been dormant for ninety years, then forced to work hard, then crushed and pierced,
and then forced to keep up a huge wolf. Your heart is as loving as ever, my dear, but physically I don't know how well it will hold up. I'm sorry, but I can't even consider that until I find out more."

"Then lets find out!" I begged. "Hook me up to something, take some blood samples, I don't care!"
"Esme, calm down," Carlisle soothed, drawing me into a hug. "I don't know enough about werewolves to help you, but when we get back to Forks we'll go to the ISS and Sylvia can help. I'll be there the whole time, I promise. We'll sort this out. I'm not going to let you go without

a fight, trust me."

"I do," I promised, lifting up my head.

Carlisle smiled, brushed a lock of hair out of my face and kissed me.

"Come on dear, the boat for the mainland is leaving soon. Don't want to miss the plane back," he said, once we had pulled apart. The drama of moments before was pushed to the back of my mind as I raced upstairs to finish packing: I couldn't wait to see my family again!


Tags: carlisle, cullens, esme, not, secret, simple, so, submissive, vampire, werewolf

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Replies to This Discussion

i love Faolan. he's just so EVIL! muah ha ha ha!
ARGH!!!!!!! HE TOOK SEFFERS!!!!!!!!!!!! HE CAN'T TAKE SEFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *distressed face*
don't worry! you've done a good job of bodyguarding me in the past so I hereby designate you Seffers' bodyguard until someone rescues him!
I'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorry

ok?

here is CHAPTER 11 (at long freaking last!!)

Chapter Eleven:

Jacob:
I phased and yanked my shorts on as I ran towards the house, jumping and swinging up into Bella's old room. I quickly located a clock radio and turned it on, praying that little old Forks would be the news of the moment. I was shocked to find my prayers coming true.
"Residents of the town of Forks, Washington, have been relocated for safety reasons,". a female voice seemed to be assuring someone. "There is no reason to be alarmed."
"What about Anchorage?"
snapped a familiar voice - Leah. "I mean, if I were in an evacuation, I'm pretty sure I would DRIVE out of town."
"Roads must have become congested in the rush."
"You gonna tell me a meteor ploughed all outwards roads too?"
"There were road works being conducted in many areas."
The stranger's excuses were getting more and more feeble by the second. Something dodgy was definitely going on here.

"Uh...Jake?" Nessie's shaky voice rose up from the kitchen. I jumped the stairs landing-by-landing and raced to her side, peering over her shoulder at a letter she was holding. It was very short:

Chief Charlie Swan,
You have been selected for a research project at our laboratory. Help create a newer supernatural. We welcome you.
Peter Martin
Department of Investigation and Surveillance of the Supernatural
Seattle


Beneath that was a haunting - though somewhat distantly - familiar symbol. Flames. Safety reasons? Yeah right. Forks is in deep, deep trouble.

Leah:
I slammed the phone back onto its holder and jumped backwards out of the booth as a fist went straight through the glass in front of me. I dived for the car and Alex slammed on the gas just as I was hauling the door shut behind me. Bullets skimmed the boot of Edward's precious Volvo as we careened around a corner.
"What do we do?" Alex asked, trying to swallow her panic. And failing. You know those guys with guns who my gut was telling me wanted to shoot us? Well it turned out they were robots with guns who wanted to shoot anything with a heartbeat. A pigeon found that out the hard way.
"We get back to the Cullens," I decided.
"How? Roads destroyed, remember? There's a pit like...ten foot deep at every one."
"We go wolf." Sorry Ed, I thought as I took over the wheel and Alex rolled out of the driver's side door. I pointed it down a longish, straightish street and dived out my own side, phasing as I leapt to my feet. Then we were two giant blurs, racing off towards the new Cullen abode.

We pulled up half the porch in our scramble to get inside, pulling fresh clothes (which had thankfully been out to dry) over ourselves as we stumbled into the kitchen. The family had heard the noise and come running; they watched with wide eyes as Alex and I tried to catch our breaths. Just then the phone rang. Jasper, who was sitting beside it, hit the speakerphone button. It was Jake.
"Where's Leah?" he demanded, struck by panic.
"Reporting for duty, sir," I mock-saluted the phone.
"What's going on in Anchorage?" he asked, his panic having reduced to mild anxiety. The rest of the family looked anxiously at me too. I addressed them as well as Jake.
"Everyone disappeared from the concert in the middle of the night. Alex and I...we were asleep. Woke up this morning to find the town completely deserted, except for these robot things that shot at us. Sorry Ed, we had to leave the Volvo behind." I grimaced sympathetically at him.
"Ouch," Jake remarked. Edward looked a little disappointed, but shrugged it off.
"So Anchorage is empty?" he asked, setting us back on track.
"Yeah. Looks like it was in a hurry, too. There was a dog tied up outside of a restaurant, open doors, cars parked in the middle of the street..." I trailed off, watching as Carlisle got up and started pacing at the back of the room.
"No, they wouldn't do that," he muttered. "They'd be making villains out of themselves...their whole operation would fall apart..."
"Of course they wouldn't do that, Carlisle!" Edward cried in a hushed voice, leaping from his seat. "That would be mass-murder! They'd all be put away, if not killed!"
"Uh...is anyone else missing something in their little brainstorm?" Jake put in.
"Hey Doc," Alex half-shouted. Carlisle stopped and looked up. Reluctantly, he told us what was on his mind.
"When I was a young vampire, a plague swept through Europe. The Black Plague. It was one of many horrific diseases of the era, for which there was no cure. Eventually, many towns shut off the areas containing infected people - sometimes entire towns were barricaded - and...waited until everyone died."
"You think this is the same kind of thing?" Jake interrogated. "But the people of Anchorage aren't sick. And they're missing, not barricaded in."
"I was not referring to the mass disappearance of the city of Anchorage," Carlisle explained, sounding calm though he looked uneasy. "It merely seems to be connected with something I was thinking about Seattle. What was that flag you mentioned?"
"A red flag with a black cross?"
Carlisle frowned for a moment before speaking.
"To be sure, someone would have to check it out, but I believe some sort of quarantine process is going on. Perhaps the residents of Anchorage have been deported to Seattle to join the process - perhaps it has something to do with our presence in both states. I certainly hope not. Whoever is behind this is clearly trying to cover it up, which bodes ill for all involved."

Leah:
In the kitchen, the radio crackled to life. Everyone jumped at the sound.
"Sorry," Esme called. "I'm trying to...find some good news..." Which was easier said than done, of course.
"You may have heard, Lyss, that Denali and Yellowstone National Parks are among many identified to contain potentially dangerous werewolf packs," a male talk show host was saying.
"I sure have, Liam, and the government has proposed to isolate and burn out these areas. This would not only kill and injure many werewolves - who, let's remember, haven't got a powerful voice like Carlisle Cullen, and have not been given any kind of interview or trial for public knowledge - but also destroy our native flora and fauna. They're national parks for a reason, people!"
"Exactly,"
Liam agreed. "I'd like to open today's discussion early and invite people all over the country to respond: should we go through with the government's plan or find another way to deal with the supposed threats? This is Operation Rescue Radio - remember; werewolves are only half wolf."

Esme brought the radio out and stepped into the middle of the gathering as it began spouting advertisements. She turned it down and, in a low voice, explained:
"I stayed with Lyssa and Liam when I ran off. They were kind people. I don't want them to get hurt. We have to stop this radio show before the government shuts it down - or worse, ISS gets their hands on werewolf-sympathisers."
"Why are they so determined to hate werewolves anyway?" I interjected. This had been nagging at me for a while now. "Surely we're no more dangerous than you lot -" I waved an arm around the room, gesturing at all the 'good' vampires. Surely the world knew there were 'bad' vampires too. "How come you get to be the poor, misunderstood creatures and we get to be the villains?"
"Shh! It's back on!" Alice shushed me, waving her hands and turning the radio back up.
"First up, we have Mrs Brenda Goodfield from the Red Cross in Phoenix - you had a werewolf stay with you, is that correct?" Liam asked.
"Yes," an elderly woman's voice replied. "A few weeks into his stay with us - he was very ill, you see, and couldn't be moved into a Red Cross Home until we were sure he wasn't contagious - some Collectors from the ISS came bursting in and took him away, the poor boy. He turned into a wolf - which nearly frightened the life out of me - but he couldn't fight them off. They took him away in the back of their van, to Seattle I think. His friend ran off after him, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of either since."
"What was his name?"
"Seth Clearwater, I believe - he was a lovely boy."

All eyes turned on me. I don't think anyone could hear the radio any more. My heart was beating so loudly I couldn't hear any of them either. Alex put her hand on my shoulder and guided me into a chair. I was speechless.
o....m.....g, SETH BETTER BE ALRIGHT!!!! grr
muah ha ha ha not telling!
i will HURT u if he is not, and u copied and pasted the message up the top, lol, the end of sorry and the start of I'm are all stuck together
IF SETH DIES I'M GOING TO CRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ='[
SO AM I!!!

I totally owe you guys! It took me a while to figure out how I was going to come out with this rather eccentric plan of Peter Martin's. I decided just to blurt it. It's okay if you don't totally follow...it should be ok if you read the last chap again...anyway the main point is that Peter is trying to create a newer supernatural.

Plus, Seth is in this one! Hopefully you guys won't kill me....*locks myself in safe vault behind about 9 billion doors*

 

Chapter Twelve:

Sylvia:

Peter was free of my grasp now, but had made no effort to summon the vampire guards I knew were waiting outside the door. He was back on the platform, but made no effort to regain his chair. Instead, he was operating a small set of controls on the wall to the side of a large screen. I hadn't noticed it before, and now I thought he might be turning on a television, but no. The screen was, in fact, a blind, on the outside of an enormous window. As it rolled up, I could see shining white linoleum floors, as if there were a kitchen in there. As more was revealed, I could see cages lined up against the walls of a passageway just as wide as the window we looked through; some would have only reached my hips in height, while others had bars that reached from the floor to the ceiling.

 

The passageway we could see from here was not very long before there was a set of double-door at the end, made of frosted glass. I couldn't see through them, but a sign near them pointed out passageways off to both sides.

 

"What is that?" I breathed, not knowing whether to me amazed or horrified.

 

"Pick your jaw up off the floor," Peter huffed. "You were the one who inspired all this, you know."

 

"Inspired...what?"

 

I tilted my head slowly to the side as I examined the creature in the cage closest to the window. It was a Golden Labrador from the back; lean muscle, smooth fur. But as it paced its cage I saw that it had long fang-like teeth coming down over its lower jaw, like a Saber-Tooth tiger. It growled playfully and then mewed like a kitten as it leapt against the back of its cage, which fell so that its bars scraped the window.

 

My mouth was still open. I could feel it, hanging. I forgot to breathe until I felt my heart pounding in my throat, crying out for oxygen.

 

"My Golden Saber," Peter said proudly. "His name is Cortez. He'll get bigger than that - twice as big, my people are saying. And his shoulders will hunch over more to give that head of his a bit more bite."

 

I could only splutter in reply. What is going on?

 

"There are more, you know," he went on, oblivious to my bafflement. "A Black Labrador and a Blue Heeler managed to survive the same process. Cortez, Adolf and Claudius. They'll be a super team when they're all trained up. No mutt's gonna get past my beauties, that's for sure."

 

"What process?" I demanded. "Trained up for what?" I frowned, battling to sort out all this information as it whizzed around my head.

 

"They are being trained as attack dogs, Sylvia," Peter told me, his voice laced with mock seriousness and sympathy. "Your beloved werewolves are running rampant, destroying lives. The vampires will be next, and then God knows what else. I developed a virus, a combination of human and canine influenza strains, but Subject Clearwater didn't reach a critical condition. It keep him in bed for a few days, but wasn't nearly strong enough to kill him."

 

I almost sighed in relief - Sam talked a lot about his pack, and he loved the one called Seth like a little brother. I had met the boy a few times. He seemed like a good kid. I was glad hear he was okay - but as Peter went on my relief was stolen away.

 

"I am developing a process of genetic engineering that will create a whole new kind of supernatural. We create them when and how we want, train them up, use them, and dispose of them when we please. Seth and his friends are going to help me out."

 

Peter's smile grew. Horror froze me to the spot, its icy fingers crawling up my legs, squeezing my gut, stiffening my neck. Still, Peter continued, as though this nightmare was his most strongly desired dream.

 

"Imagine that, Syl!" he cried with passion. "Mutants, hybrids - powerful, intelligent creatures with the strength to fight the lesser super-natives. We shall fight fire with fire, so to speak. Only our blaze will be perfectly obedient and overwhelmingly powerful." He chuckled darkly and I just stared. I had lost the use of my tongue, but that didn't matter because I couldn't word this feeling of angst, of fear, of dread that was joining Horror's cold grasp. I could only think, over and over:

Peter, what have you done?

 

"There's a whole menagerie just beyond the glass - would you like to see?" Peter asked. Taking my silence for consent, he took my hand and led me through a door I had not seen in the glass pane. Numbly, I observed the animals in the cages around me.

 

Cortez growled at me, and roared like a young tiger as I passed. Opposite him, there was a wild boar with a tortoise shell. Next to the boar - opposite the other two Saber-dogs, Adolf and Claudius - there was a raccoon with thin, sharp fangs and a forked tongue that flicked out to sniff air, and a kangaroo with ill-formed bat-like ears on its head and hawk-like talons instead of paws.

 

"The Boartoise idea was clever," Peter narrated, "but I think some rhinoceros wouldn't go amiss; they'll need to be much bigger before they are of any use. The Cobraccoon? Well, it seems to be taking to the snake parts well. Not sure what we'll use it for, but there'll be something. As for this mess-" he frowned and kicked the kangaroo's cage "- It's useless. Keeps scratching itself up - costs me more in medical bills now than it did to create. Deaf, too."

 

 

We continued, until a few paces down the corridor, we reached cages which reached from the floor to the roof. These ones were not only taller but longer than the previous six, stretching nearly as far down as Peter and I had already walked; about ten or fifteen yards. On each side there was a horse trotting anxiously up and down its cage, with only just enough room to turn around. On the left - the side with the Saber-dogs - was a black horse with the orange-and-black striped tail and ears of a tiger. The ears were pinned back in resentment as it screeched at us, sounding somewhere between tiger and horse. Opposite it was a white horse, with matching set of tail and ears, only these were white, rather than orange, under the black markings.

 

"We're working on a name for this species. Tails, ears, and instincts of tigers. The ears and tail weren't exactly desired, but they'll do no harm. With a horse's strength and a tiger's ferocity - which have both been increased by the engineering process - these could be very valuable," Peter explained. "Unfortunately, they don't get outside much as they won't let anyone too near."

 

I nodded slowly, but I was looking at the black horse. Its orange ears flickered incessantly as it threw its head around, pacing up and back. It was terrified and as mad as hell. The poor creature.

 

"We've started human trials," Peter informed me eagerly. "Would you like to see?"

 

Again without a word, I was dragged onwards. We went through the frosted-glass doors and I realised we were in a warehouse full of cages. The lights were off, but I studied the array of cages. Some were as small as the Boartoise's; four or five feet cubed. Some were larger cubes. Others were fairly tall, but with a square base, or long but with square ends. And in them, I realised as the lights illuminated row-by-row, were people.

 

People I knew.

 

People from Forks.

 

 

Seth:

I gave up struggling after a while, and padded quietly behind my captors as they led me out of the back of the truck and towards a tall building mostly made of glass.

 

More guards joined my entourage as we moved deeper into the building; up, down, round and round...we were probably taking extra staircases so I wouldn't remember how to get out. I tried to remember the passages, but all thoughts of mapping the place were blown away when I stepped through the final door.

 

All I saw were rows and rows of cages. Cages with people in them. The stenches of blood and sweat hit my nostrils almost immediately, followed shortly by a man's rough scream. It was strangled, blood-curdling; it shot right over the panicky murmurings around me. My legs were frozen to the spot, slightly splayed so I wouldn't fall over, but my eyes darted around the room, trying to find the source of the noise. For some reason, every sound that reached my ears became ten times louder: banging bars, running nails along the metal, panicked whispers, reassurances, coughs, breaths, moans of agony. My own breathing came faster when I heard the scream again; I knew that voice.

 

Sam.

 

 

My heart constricted. I felt like I'd drop dead right there, but my captors led me on, to a cage the size of a small room. Some of the pack were lying in it, bruised and beaten, looking absolutely devastated.

 

"Seth?" Embry wondered, looking drowsily in my direction. He had a huge black eye. I whined and came to sit beside him. My captors closed the door after tossing some clothes in, and left as emotionlessly as they had entered.

 

I phased instantly, pulling the clothes on as quickly as I could.

 

"Oh my God, what happened to you?" The breath raked in and out of my lungs as I studied my companions. Embry; black eye, several deep cuts and bag bruises, and from the way he was sitting, probably a sprained or broken ankle. Quil: apart from the cuts and bruises that decorated him all over, his arm was definitely broken. It had been wrapped up in what I guessed was his shirt, but he still held it as if in a sling.

 

"We were having lunch at Sam and Em's when they came," Paul explained, his split lip and missing teeth making it difficult. "Em's the only imprint in here. The others are out there...somewhere..."

 

"Seth?" Sam's voice was weak and raspy like sandpaper as two guards shoved him into the cell. He was cleaned up, and all but completely wrapped in gauze and bandages, but there was no way he was going to stand up for very long like this. Hell, judging by the look on his face, he should already be dead.

 

"Emily Uley?" one of Sam's guards looked around. Emily shakily got to her feet. Other than myself, she was the only one in the cage not injured yet. I had a terrible feeling that was about to change.

 

Sam's eyes widened in horror, and he staggered forward, phasing and attempting a swipe at the nearest white coat. They whipped out a cattle prod and zapped him good. He slumped to the ground, adding a head wound to his extensive collection as the concrete floor knocked the consciousness out of him. All of us cringed, and Emily shrieked and threw herself into the guard's arms.

 

"No! Please, I'll come, just leave him alone!" she cried. I jerked my pants off - I'd be needing those later - and exploded into full wolfy power, snapping at the other two guards as they turned to leave. Unfortunately, they had cattle prods too. One got my foot, the other my nose. I shuddered with the force of it and slipped to the ground.

 

 

"Seth?"

 

"Seth, man, stay with us..."

 

Their voices blurred. It became harder and harder to concentrate. I dragged myself out of my wolf body, reluctantly pulling my shorts back on, and the world became a little clearer as the effects of the shocks faded.

 

"I'm okay," I announced shakily, mentally checking myself over. "I'm good." I looked back at Sam, who was far worse than all of us put together. He huddled by the door, patches of white gauze and bronze skin, and watched as Emily disappeared through the door into the terribly painful unknown from which he himself had just emerged.

 

"Thanks for trying," Sam wheezed, not turning to look at me. Emily's scream filled the room, and Sam slumped. I caught a glimpse of his expression - he looked about ready to shoot himself. This was going to be a long night.

OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! EMILY!!!! Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!! I HATE PETER SO MUCH!!! ARHGGGGGGGGG

WHAT!!!!!!!!! DOES PETER EVEN KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING!!!!!! THAT'S INSANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 0.0

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