The Saints Take Out Alice
Title: The Saints Take Out Alice
Author: quicksilvermad
Fandom(s): The Twilight Series, The Boondock Saints (follows canon timeline set before BDS II)
Rating: R
Word Count: 983
Inspiration: New Moon: Chapter 19 - Race, Meyer's Catholic Bashing
Warnings: Violence, language (the MacManus brothers swear a lot.)
Summary: Upon arrival to Italy, Bella and Alice encounter two foul-mouthed Catholic twins who are on a mission from God to rid the world of evil.
They were in the car lot when it happened. Alice had stopped beside an ostentatious Porsche 911 and was working on the electronic lock. Bella was supposed to be acting as a look out but was more interested in watching the petite vampire jack the sports car.
"You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," a man said behind Alice. His voice was deep and thickly accented in what sounded like an Irish brogue to Bella. She turned to look at him.
He was dark blonde, about a foot and a half taller than Alice, and was soon joined by another man with darker hair. They both wore jeans and navy pea-coats. Bella could see matching tattoos of the Virgin Mary on their necks and watched in curiosity as they both pulled hand-made rosaries out from under their T-shirts.
"What's keepin' ya, Connor?" the darker haired man asked.
"Fuckin' rope might not be much use with this'n."
"I told you it was stupid."
"Fuck off. Just tie 'er up."
"Excuse me-" Bella started.
"Shh, be a good girl and run along home, love. Your Da must be worried sick 'bout ya," the one called Connor ruffled Bella's hair and gently shoved her in the direction of three men standing outside the airport entrance.
"Who are you?" Alice asked. She seemed incapable of movement since they pulled rosaries out from under their shirts. It confused Bella since the Cullens told her that crucifixes held no power over them.
"We're here on Divine purposes. Ain't that right, Murphy?"
Murphy crossed himself and kissed his knuckle. "Word from on High, that."
Bella's feet moved automatically toward the air terminal. She startled when one of the three men gently grasped her elbow. "Isabella Swan, I'm Detective Greenly. These are Detectives Dolly and Duffy. Your father contacted FBI Special Agent Paul Smecker early this morning and informed him of your situation."
Bella was puzzled to say the least. "My situation?"
"Alice Brandon kidnapped you, Isabella. She's on the FBI's alert list for committing mass murder at an orphanage in Saint Paul, Minnesota. That's just the first in a long list of child murders she and her husband, Jasper Whitlock, have committed," said Detective Duffy.
Bella swallowed hard and tried to wrap her mind around the idea of Alice massacring a room of helpless children. For some reason, leaving the vampire's side cleared her head. She blinked hard and exhaled the last of Alice's cloying scent-she felt better than she had in months.
She stopped asking questions and just watched.
Connor finished tying the rope around Alice and said a prayer for the souls she'd slaughtered. Murphy dug through one of the duffle bags on the ground and came up with two huge guns.
"Ammo?"
"Silver. Those guys at the Vatican said it'd work," Murphy gave the clip he handed off to his brother a skeptical look.
Connor sniffed and loaded his gun. "Works in the movies, doesn't it?"
"Jesus Christ, Con!"
Connor slapped his brother's head. "Lord's fuckin' name, Murph!"
"Ignosce peccatum meum, Domine," Murphy muttered and crossed himself.
Alice flinched.
Connor smiled. "Looks like they were right 'bout one thing so far. She can't stand the Latin."
Murphy laughed and loaded his gun as well. "What about the others? Da said there were more in Volterra. And he said they'd desecrated the memory of St. Justus."
Connor frowned and poked the barrel of his silencer against the back of Alice's scarf-covered head. "S'that true, lass?"
Alice hissed.
Bella slid closer to Detective Greenly and felt the multitude of questions stop in her throat when the two Irish men stood side by side behind Alice's back and leveled their guns at the back of her head.
Together, they recited the words passed down from their father.
"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand. Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be…"
Simultaneously, they pulled back the hammers on their Berettas.
"In nomeni Patri, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti."
They fired.
Two nine millimeter rounds of silver ammunition burrowed through the vampire's supposedly rock-hard skull and exited through her blood-red eyes. Alice slumped forward onto the pavement.
"What was the other thing?" Murphy asked and took his brother's gun from him.
"Uh," Connor looked down at the body and toed her expensive high heel. "They said somethin' about burnin' the body…"
"I thought it was cuttin' the head off?"
"Maybe that too, aye."
"Which is it?" Murphy had a cutting torch in one hand and a machete in the other. Connor scoffed at him.
"Fuckin' Rambo…" he muttered. "We do both."
Murphy shrugged and brought the machete down on the back of the corpse's neck with all his strength.
Bella felt a wave of peace flow over her as she watched the Irish men douse Alice's body in gasoline and light it with the cutting torch. The insanity of running off to Italy with someone she'd only known for a few months to "save" another person she had an unhealthy obsession with was finally becoming clear. She blindly wrapped an arm around Detective Greenly's waist and buried her face in his jacket sleeve.
"I'm so stupid," she grumbled.
"Nah," said Detective Dolly, "From what the Church told us, these vampires are pretty good at mind games. Don't be hard on yourself, kiddo."
The odd smell of something too sweet burning was overpowered by a sudden burst of nicotine and tobacco as Connor and Murphy MacManus lit up some celebratory cigarettes. Normally Bella would turn her nose at the odor, but the human familiarity of it had her taking in deep breaths.
"You know where the Whitlock fella is, lass?" Connor asked.
"Denali, Alaska. He tried to kill me…"
Murphy was the one to muss up her hair this time. "Don't fret, girlie. The Saints'll take care of it all."
"Who are the Saints?"
"That'd be us," said Connor.
Both men winked at her as Detective Greenly led her back inside the airport terminal.
Author: quicksilvermad
Fandom(s): The Twilight Series, The Boondock Saints (follows canon timeline set before BDS II)
Rating: R
Word Count: 983
Inspiration: New Moon: Chapter 19 - Race, Meyer's Catholic Bashing
Warnings: Violence, language (the MacManus brothers swear a lot.)
Summary: Upon arrival to Italy, Bella and Alice encounter two foul-mouthed Catholic twins who are on a mission from God to rid the world of evil.
They were in the car lot when it happened. Alice had stopped beside an ostentatious Porsche 911 and was working on the electronic lock. Bella was supposed to be acting as a look out but was more interested in watching the petite vampire jack the sports car.
"You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," a man said behind Alice. His voice was deep and thickly accented in what sounded like an Irish brogue to Bella. She turned to look at him.
He was dark blonde, about a foot and a half taller than Alice, and was soon joined by another man with darker hair. They both wore jeans and navy pea-coats. Bella could see matching tattoos of the Virgin Mary on their necks and watched in curiosity as they both pulled hand-made rosaries out from under their T-shirts.
"What's keepin' ya, Connor?" the darker haired man asked.
"Fuckin' rope might not be much use with this'n."
"I told you it was stupid."
"Fuck off. Just tie 'er up."
"Excuse me-" Bella started.
"Shh, be a good girl and run along home, love. Your Da must be worried sick 'bout ya," the one called Connor ruffled Bella's hair and gently shoved her in the direction of three men standing outside the airport entrance.
"Who are you?" Alice asked. She seemed incapable of movement since they pulled rosaries out from under their shirts. It confused Bella since the Cullens told her that crucifixes held no power over them.
"We're here on Divine purposes. Ain't that right, Murphy?"
Murphy crossed himself and kissed his knuckle. "Word from on High, that."
Bella's feet moved automatically toward the air terminal. She startled when one of the three men gently grasped her elbow. "Isabella Swan, I'm Detective Greenly. These are Detectives Dolly and Duffy. Your father contacted FBI Special Agent Paul Smecker early this morning and informed him of your situation."
Bella was puzzled to say the least. "My situation?"
"Alice Brandon kidnapped you, Isabella. She's on the FBI's alert list for committing mass murder at an orphanage in Saint Paul, Minnesota. That's just the first in a long list of child murders she and her husband, Jasper Whitlock, have committed," said Detective Duffy.
Bella swallowed hard and tried to wrap her mind around the idea of Alice massacring a room of helpless children. For some reason, leaving the vampire's side cleared her head. She blinked hard and exhaled the last of Alice's cloying scent-she felt better than she had in months.
She stopped asking questions and just watched.
Connor finished tying the rope around Alice and said a prayer for the souls she'd slaughtered. Murphy dug through one of the duffle bags on the ground and came up with two huge guns.
"Ammo?"
"Silver. Those guys at the Vatican said it'd work," Murphy gave the clip he handed off to his brother a skeptical look.
Connor sniffed and loaded his gun. "Works in the movies, doesn't it?"
"Jesus Christ, Con!"
Connor slapped his brother's head. "Lord's fuckin' name, Murph!"
"Ignosce peccatum meum, Domine," Murphy muttered and crossed himself.
Alice flinched.
Connor smiled. "Looks like they were right 'bout one thing so far. She can't stand the Latin."
Murphy laughed and loaded his gun as well. "What about the others? Da said there were more in Volterra. And he said they'd desecrated the memory of St. Justus."
Connor frowned and poked the barrel of his silencer against the back of Alice's scarf-covered head. "S'that true, lass?"
Alice hissed.
Bella slid closer to Detective Greenly and felt the multitude of questions stop in her throat when the two Irish men stood side by side behind Alice's back and leveled their guns at the back of her head.
Together, they recited the words passed down from their father.
"And shepherds we shall be, for Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand. Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be…"
Simultaneously, they pulled back the hammers on their Berettas.
"In nomeni Patri, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti."
They fired.
Two nine millimeter rounds of silver ammunition burrowed through the vampire's supposedly rock-hard skull and exited through her blood-red eyes. Alice slumped forward onto the pavement.
"What was the other thing?" Murphy asked and took his brother's gun from him.
"Uh," Connor looked down at the body and toed her expensive high heel. "They said somethin' about burnin' the body…"
"I thought it was cuttin' the head off?"
"Maybe that too, aye."
"Which is it?" Murphy had a cutting torch in one hand and a machete in the other. Connor scoffed at him.
"Fuckin' Rambo…" he muttered. "We do both."
Murphy shrugged and brought the machete down on the back of the corpse's neck with all his strength.
Bella felt a wave of peace flow over her as she watched the Irish men douse Alice's body in gasoline and light it with the cutting torch. The insanity of running off to Italy with someone she'd only known for a few months to "save" another person she had an unhealthy obsession with was finally becoming clear. She blindly wrapped an arm around Detective Greenly's waist and buried her face in his jacket sleeve.
"I'm so stupid," she grumbled.
"Nah," said Detective Dolly, "From what the Church told us, these vampires are pretty good at mind games. Don't be hard on yourself, kiddo."
The odd smell of something too sweet burning was overpowered by a sudden burst of nicotine and tobacco as Connor and Murphy MacManus lit up some celebratory cigarettes. Normally Bella would turn her nose at the odor, but the human familiarity of it had her taking in deep breaths.
"You know where the Whitlock fella is, lass?" Connor asked.
"Denali, Alaska. He tried to kill me…"
Murphy was the one to muss up her hair this time. "Don't fret, girlie. The Saints'll take care of it all."
"Who are the Saints?"
"That'd be us," said Connor.
Both men winked at her as Detective Greenly led her back inside the airport terminal.