Oneshot: Inferno
Pain could not fully describe it, but he could not come up with something better due to his circumstances. He laid in a bed in an unfamiliar chamber and his body was experiencing the worst agony. There was fire everywhere. There were screams. There were pleadings. However, he could not recognize the voices. He wondered if he had suffered some memory lost or if he just wanted to forget.
And then, there was silence, so abrupt it scared him. He could not hear his heart pumping anymore. He was not breathing. He felt… dead.
Maybe the fire symbolized his passing. He had arrived at Hell. The question was… what had he done to deserve hell?
‘I hope I made the right choice.’
That voice. He had heard it somewhere. At last, he had something known to grasp. The voice would be able to hand over the answers to his questions. Why was he feeling this misery? Where was he? Who was he?
‘I just… what have I done? I feel so selfish. Just because I wanted a companion doesn’t mean I can go around turning people. Did I want to be a vampire when I was turned? But his mother… she asked me. She wanted her son to live on, no matter what. But… what if…? He seems like a nice lad. I hope… he will forgive me.’
He would not until he did not understand the situation. What was going on? The voice was not speaking out loud. It felt… strange, almost as if it were inside his mind, like another synchrony to his actual thoughts. It was highly disturbing. His mind was not his now.
He gasped when he opened his eyes and suddenly many voices arrived to his mind, popping without warning, as if they owned the place.
‘It’s going to rain. I should put a coat on’
‘Such a horrible fate. Let her rest in peace’
‘Where is it? Where is it? I’d put it right here!’
‘He’s stopped screaming. It’s over. He should be… waking… up soon. Will I be able to instruct him properly?’
And they kept talking and talking, and he could not make out any of their words. They were just too many and he could not tolerate it any longer. Where was the difference between his voice and theirs? He felt engrossed, utterly impersonal.
“SHUT UP!” he shouted, his voice sounding hoarse.
Silence.
“Edward, are you alright?” one of the voices asked gently.
He had opened his eyes, although he had left them unfocused on a wall, not really seeing anything. He turned his head around and saw a man, sitting near his bed. He was wearing a white uniform, so he figured he was a physicist. The man’s eyes were oddly golden. The hands were unmoving, settled in his lap. The man with the acknowledged voice was not reaching towards him, almost as if he knew how it would upset him to be touched.
The voices returned, but this time they just buzzed in the background of his mind.
“Is Edward my name?” The man nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting sadness.
“You will recover some of your memories soon, do not worry.” ‘It happened to me, too’ “My name is Carlisle, Carlisle Cullen. I was your physicist.” ‘I suppose I am not that anymore, am I? Where do I begin?’
“Maybe the beginning would be the best place,” answered Edward, trying hard to stay calm. He was feeling… thirsty. However, he did not know for what. Carlisle stared at him, looking surprised. ‘It must be a coincidence.’
“Edward… I… and you too now… we are…,” Carlisle hesitated. ‘We are vampires.’
“Vampires?” he questioned, uneasy. A monster… he had become a monster? ‘How did he guess…? It’s not possible!’ Edward frowned and then said, “I might not be very bright, but please, don’t insult me. I heard you clear enough.” ‘What is he talking about?’ “You’ve just told me I am a vampire!” he barked, exasperated.
The man was trying to drive him crazy on purpose. Did he forget what he had said immediately after saying it? Maybe Edward was not just the only one with memory problems, then. Maybe he was not a vampire. He might be in some kind of insane asylum, where doctors and patients could not be told apart.
“Edward, I didn’t utter that word,” his tone was too serious to be joking. His gold eyes turned reflexive for a moment. ‘Could it be possible for him to… read minds?’ “Wait. Let’s try something.” ‘I was born in 1643. In what century was I born, Edward?’
He growled. “You are taking me for a fool, aren’t you?” ‘Just answer the question, Edward.’ He sighed. He had to play along; after all, he had no memories to live by himself. He hated to admit it, but he depended on this crazy man. “In the seventeenth century. Are you truly that old?”
Carlisle leaned back and laughed, amazed. “Edward, you can read minds!” ‘I have never seen such a gift in a vampire. I wonder what limitations it has…’
“Is it… unusual for… vampires… to…?” he inquired, uncertain. ‘To be able to read minds? Yes. I have only met one vampire with a gift similar to yours… but it’s common among us to develop some special talents from our skills when we were humans.’ Edward smiled weakly, starting to get the distinction between thoughts and dialogue. “What is your talent?”
Carlisle grinned. ‘It’s not as unique as yours. However…’ Unexpectedly Edward’s mind was invaded with flashing images of a hospital and people suffering. He witnessed everything from Carlisle’s point of view, seeing the corpses and feeling Carlisle’s desperation. On the other hand, the sensation was easily forgotten when he felt something inside stirring at the sight of blood. He could not think rationally. He needed it. Even without being physically there, he could imagine the smell, the taste in his mouth… He snarled. Those bodies would be his; his to kill, his to break, his to tear limb from limb… and his to drink until not even a drop of blood was left.
“Edward!”
He felt arms embracing him, welcoming him back to reality. Anguish assaulted him and he wished he could cry. Those arms smoothly helped him stand up and led him towards a mirror. The man echoed on the crystal was not himself but it could not be anyone else. He was extremely pale, nearly a living corpse. He had dark circles under the eyes… which were not vivid green anymore. They were irrevocably red.
Bloody red.
“Don’t let it be in command of you, Edward. We need blood, yes… but human beings do not have to pay for our eternity. Listen to me… you cannot let it rule you. There can be humanity in us yet.”
Edward moaned, his whole body trembling. “How can you be around wounded humans? It is… enthralling.” Carlisle smiled as he helped him sit down in the bed. ‘That is my power, Edward. My compassion. It will be easier with each passing day, I promise. All you require is discipline… we can feed from animals. It is not as sweet; however, do you really want to become a killer?’
Edward looked at his hands, trying to tone down the emptiness inside. A brunette woman with green eyes gazed at him, smiling sweetly. Her face brought up more sadness that he could not comprehend until a soft voice, probably his remaining and dying human part, told him it was his mother.
“Where is my mother?” he asked Carlisle, dreading the answer he knew deep down.
“Elizabeth is dead, Edward, as well as your father.” ‘She begged me to save you. I am so sorry.’
There was an overwhelming pain in his chest. He took a gulp of air and it did not go away. “Why do we keep feeling human emotions?” Carlisle put an arm around his shoulder, offering a comfort Edward had not realized he needed.
“Most vampires believe it is the only thing the venom cannot destroy, thus they believe feelings are our lone imperfection in eternity. Yet I prefer to think it is our blessing, our last bond to life. Without feelings, we would be totally dead; everything would be hollow. Emotions prove you exist.”
However, Edward did not agree. His emptiness had got worse due to his heartache and grief. Eternity was worthless without something to offer, without something to share. Eternity was not intended for taking away and never giving back.
He wanted to cry. Instead, he could solely wish for blood since redemption was not a path available for him.
He had reached Hell.