Author: Elena Estrome PM
Following the Death of her brother and the departure of her hormonally confused brother and job obsessed father, Bella Hernandez is not a normal teen, but as soon as Damon Garcia arrives in her life, her whole life is different. Love, Lust, Secrets.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Supernatural - Chapters: 5 - Words: 14,527 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 12-19-09 - Published: 09-15-09 - id: 2720789
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I looked him in the eyes; my glare was dead, lifeless, raging with fear. My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my arms. Adrenaline pulsing, heart pounding I awaited the answer, a answer I'm not so sure I wanted to hear, one that struck fear into my very core, but also an answer I thrived to hear, begged to hear, needed to hear.
"I am a monster," his voice was lowered, the ambience of the crashing rapids echoing behind his heavy, guilty voice. The wind played in his hair as I felt the energy between us tense up. The sockets under his eyes darkened quickly, a purple-blue bruise-like essence covering up the pale skin I was so used to. Long, black and blue, spider webs crawled from his blue eyes down to his jaw, much like my marks, but stronger, heavier, and creepier.
I hesitated, looking for just the right words; I had to be right on target. I inhaled, pulling my shirt up to expose my black and purple stomach, "Our marks match," I told him, brushing the swirls and comparing his to mine.
He laughed, it wasn't a humorous laugh, his smile didn't reach his eyes, the laugh was just there. "Identical? Please. We are not the same," he shook his head as he talked. I liked the way he said we, it jolted my body, zapped my nerves.
"Then what are we?" my voice rang out, his eyes met mine. I didn't even realize the pain, the agony that rippled through my body. It was just me, Bree, and Damon. Alone, the truth being reveled, the fate that decides us proclaiming it.
Damon's gaze ripped from the beyond to my pity, glassy eyes. "Joined. Joined together like a sword and a swordsman, glued like a romantic pair, dead like a corpse," his eyes darkened, "united, made together."
I looked at my legs to my stomach, the butterfly, energy fueled marks twisting together somewhere in between. My face turned upwards, looking him dead in the eyes for the first time since the accident. "Joined together, glued together, meant to be together," I told him as I was beginning to understand,
He just nodded though. I struggled to get to my feet, using the jagged edges of the rocks to climb up. My blond hair, now somewhere in between black and dark brown, dripped soggy, dark water onto the soft, muddy ground. "Damon," I walked forward, aware the marks had suddenly appeared on my wrist, climbing around and around.
"I think I'm meant to…to save you," I sounded so silly to my own ears. So dumb, so optimistic and just plain stupid. I was…marked and 17. Young and foolish, alone and scared in this place we call home. I had to begin somewhere, working over the intense pain that occupied my body.
He hugged me then, his strong arms wrapped around my limp, scarred body. I didn't pull away, I didn't even flinch. I knew this was the way it was made. Our worlds joining together, forming one complete immortalized world. We embraced that way until I finally felt pain, agony, and the struggle come back.
Blood, lots of blood, dripped from my chest, my knees, and my forearm. I winced, trying to overlook the blood and the gore to find Damon's face somewhere in the blotchy mess of disarray. It was a monster; I was walking along side it. Holding hands with the monster of karma,
"Damon," I mumbled, it was frantic, screaming pain inside me. The monster laughed as I recoiled, my pain throbbing, pulling and pushing onto my bones, my heart, and my life. It skipped around, giggling with my last moments.
"Damon!" I screamed, it echoed off the trees, bubbling and building until I heard my heart, I heard it, sputtering, spewing, and screaming at me. Pushing and pulling, pumping and relaxing, the processes sped up, exhilarating my last moments.
"Bree, please, look at me," he pulled my face up to look at his. My purple eyes stared at his, they glowed, and I mean the outsides really were glowing blue.
I did then, the spidery web marks, the blue were gone, all disappeared within a moment. Breathing hard and on the edge of death I listened, "Bree, I love you."
My mind sputtered, spun, and fell to the ground, my body did the same. I slammed my back onto the ground, rocks so sharp encasing into my skin. My elbow hit the ground, cracking. I felt my heart whimper, fret, as it whispered it's last breath.
"Bree," Damon whispered above me. I was there, a body, an undead dead child lost in something not yet dead, but I wasn't alive. I couldn't see anything; I only felt the touch of his embrace on my arms, his hips sliding up and down my curves. "Don't die on me, I need you. Five hundred years of searching…of losing and of disappointment, and I promise…I will love you, forever, just, Love, don't die out on me," his whispered angst made not harm… Everything was so heavy inside me.
Humanity slipping, tears shedding, heart whispering last beats of cardiac distress, a voice, the voice of authority rang out. Shrill and echoing, it passed us. "Hey, you? What are you doing?" The voice was directed at Damon.
I could feel the vibrations in the earth as the officer passed the trees, nearing the site of my soon to be death. I could hear his breaths, his heart beating, the energy released when his eyes set on me. "Holy muffins! Sir, you need to get help! I'll alert the ambulances, the EMTs need to be here soon, son, you need to release the girl!" I felt no recoil in Damon's arms.
The vibrations neared, "Sir, you need to let go of her, is that Bree? Bree Hernandez? Victor Hernandez's daughter? Oh, no! Sir, please you need to let go of Bree!" His voice was more desperate as he noticed I was a Hernandez. Stupid, selfish, and ignorant man, his whim depending on my rank. He wanted pay for my revival, not pride. How ignorant.
"I'm not letting go of you, Bree," Damon whispered in my ear. I shivered, a tear forming in my closed eye.
A walkie-talkie noise alerted me, I didn't move. Didn't feel vibrations, but I knew the man, ignorant human, had called the police. "Sir, you need to let go of—"
A terrible ripping noise mad me cringe, made me want to cry, made me want to fly, soar, and roll over only to hunch into a ball. Sing, maybe. I could feel the horror, the blood, the gore in my mind. I could see, I could feel, I could sense what was happening.
Ripping, shredding metal rang in my ears, blood spattered my mind, my heart resided to it's last pump, and I was ripped from human life, just how Damon was ripping the ignorant police ranger man.
She emerged from the darkness, I don't know where, but…she just slowly appeared. I saw her, long auburn hair hung in ringlets to her waist, blue eyes meeting mine, and then changing to neon green. Her smile faded, as did her energy. A bright, muddied red aura surrounded her as she paced forward.
"Bree," she said, her voice echoed, it's rich and frightening enlightenment shaking me. I felt myself recoil, I had no control here. I was a puppet to rather…repulsive reports.
"That is your name, Bree?" Her voice still stunned me; I pulled back, feeling so small, pebble-like, and nodded. "Bree it is. I am Zanya."
I nodded again, not considering why I was. My heart pounded, hard and thumping as Zanya crept forward, her eyes keeping held onto mine. Her steps were fluid, catlike, as she centered the floor of nothingness.
I waited for her answer; I stood, solid and frozen in the darkness as she opened her mouth to speak, "Bree, Bree Hernandez. We have met before; I told you the truth, the dreams, your destiny. But, as we meet now, I'm afraid this isn't what I and the fates planned for you, Bree." She sighed, folding her hands together.
I hesitated, pausing. I knew what she was thinking, because I felt it myself. I was dead. Not metaphorically, but physically dead. Even as I stood here, mind racing, breaths continuing, I was dead. All I could so was nod, my hair fell loose down across my face, shielding me.
"But," her auburn hair ruffled with the wind that formed from nothing, "you can be saved."
I didn't want to be saved, part of me didn't want to go back into a life not worth living, of murders, homicides, and violence, but part of me screamed at my consciousness, yelling and pulling to stay alive. I was an essence in the real world, I could still feel my semi-dead body, Damon's arms snuggled, pulled and clamped around my forearms, his lips kissing my forehead.
"How?" I found myself saying something I never intended to. My palms sweated as I shivered.
Her voice was filled with centuries of wisdom, it echoed with all of her past lives as she spoke, "Damon, ah, Damon Garcia. Can you believe I had this conversation with him 400 years ago? History repeats itself, Bree, and so shall you. I can permanently mark you, you will be an Immortal, much like your soulmate, Damon."
Soulmate? "Since when is Damon my soulmate?" I put air quotes around soulmate; I didn't understand why I was being such a stuck up bitch.
Zanya laughed a bell chime laugh, "Since you were made, born, and turned the double age of ten. The fates, Damon included, he saw you, as a child. Every incarnation of you he fell in love with, only to have you die in a disaster. Damon found you, ten years old and klutzy, blond, and so care-free and he made it clear to the committee of fates that this was you. His soulmate, his wife, his partner."
My heart leapt, I wept then. My eyes filled with tears as I said this out loud, knowing in my heart it was true for the very first time. "Damon loves me."
"Always had, and he will never stop…ever, Bree, ever." She fixed her eyes on mine, a sensation of warm, fizzing feelings filled my heart. "Now, Bree, choose. Do you wish to live on, Immortal and never dying? Or proceed to the afterlife? Leave Damon alone, once again searching for a love he lost. Choose now, Bree, and your future will be forever changed.
I loved Damon, and I said that from the true, pure part of my heart. I couldn't leave him to a world of nothingness, have him search many more time to find me, then have history repeat. He had loved me, from the very first time we met, his smiles, the way he saved me, just to keep our history alive.
Part of him, though, I wasn't sure I wanted. I wanted someone who would love me forever, through thick and thin, and I was getting that, I knew that from my heart, but he was Damon Garcia. Hottest man alive, beautiful, caring and most of all…Immortal. I was Bree. Bree, the blond haired, abnormal purple eyed girl with a whole hell of problems in her life, I was a outcast, he was an in crowd hottie, I was a stay in your house till you die girl, he was a let's go party man.
I could see the past history, repeating over and over again. Myself, the first incarnation, as a brunette, blue eyes and a strong, strong English accent. Flirting with Damon, so elegantly, in the night, loving under the stars in Britain. Myself as an Irish socialite, I watched as I was raped and killed in an alley… I saw my funeral. Damon in his formal, looking over the pictures of me, crying as he placed a gold and ruby ring, gorgeous, onto the table of past life things I had had.
Before I could think anymore, lead myself away from the descision that was pure, that was the right thing to do, I was crying again. "I love you, Damon…Yes. I'll be an immortal. I will, now take me back. I want to see him, I want to be with him. Please, Zanya, take me back!" I screamed, flashes of white light surrounded me, clicking on and off, flashing, blinding me.
"Zanya take me back! Please! I love him!" I screamed, still blinded, trying to overlook the pain, the familiar cold and hot marking pain as I was brought back.
Only, I wasn't still near the river. I was lying, my back flat, in a room. A room so familiar I almost cried. I kept fluttering my eyes as I realized I was in Damon's room, lying on his bed, wearing some of my own clothes… I had my sweatpants on from my old school, but I had one of Damon's Hollister Tees on. My hair was scrunched up in what looked like a failed pony tail…a boy trying to make a ponytail.
I pulled the sheets up my legs, looking over my arms. Fresh and blue, marks swirled up and down my arms. I heard the shower running; assuming Damon was getting ready for some type of in crowd event. I stretched my bones out, the sore movement making me cringe.
His shirt was way too big, and I could feel my skin rub against it, and with a gaping shock I realized I wasn't wearing anything under it. No underwear…god he was such a pervert. He took my clothes off; well I was going to yell at him for that later.
The water ceased and I scrunched myself up into a ball, awaiting the truth. I knew…yes, I knew the truth. I had become whatever I was. After a few minutes of rustling coming from the bathroom I watched as he came out.
He had on a pair of jeans, no shirt, his hair was dripping wet, the wet, crystal-like beads of water slid down his washboard stomach. "Bree?!" his voice was filled with hope.
"Damon!" I cried, my tears flowing so effortlessly. He walked, carefully over to the bed and sat next to me.
"You're alive," he brushed the wet hair off my face and smiled, it was pure and truthful.
"Not technically," I mumbled, I was going to add something else, but his lips were already on mine. Hard and intense, his tongue met mine quickly. I didn't pull back, I would have…I would if any of this hadn't of happen.
I was marked, immortal, and it didn't matter what happened now. A low, passion filled groan escaped his mouth; he pulled at his tee-which I was wearing. It slid effortlessly off my chest and without any hesitation, he slid off his pants. I smiled as we continued to kiss, he rolled on top of me, his breaths coming out ragged and rigid.
"Oh god, I want you," he mumbled, his lips caressing my neck.
"Tonight, what I have is yours. Do you want it?" my voice was sexy…seductive I noted. I couldn't' believe me of all people…
"Hell yes," he groaned, helping me pull my sweatpants off. Was I ready for this?
I could sense he was hesitating, probably afraid to hurt me, or scare me. "Bree?"
"Just do it, Damon. I love you, that's all that matters," I said quickly.
And so he did. A fire of passion exploded inside me, I moaned with him, pulling his head down to mine, starting a long, extensive kiss, making out with an immortal.
I closed my eyes…the pain wasn't bad, at all. It didn't even surpass me, but I just let him do what he wanted. He sucked on the skin right above my collarbone as I kissed his neck.
I was in heaven, my perfect little happy ending. Life couldn't get better than this… could it? I didn't want to think though, didn't want to breathe, and didn't want to do anything but feel the push and the pull of his skin on mine.
It seemed like hours…but it was merely minutes before he pulled away, bloody and sticky. We smiled at each other, two immortal pieces glued together. We both laid there, our clothes shoved on the edge of the bed.
"I love you," my voice whispered so sure, so diffident, I had to relax and roll into his arms.
"I couldn't have said it any other way," he said, brushing my hair with his fingers.
Love is more than an object, a way of life. Everyone seeks it, but more fail to find it, and for those who do find it, will always cherish it, forever.