Nightshift 49: Homeworld - Forks, Washington

[prodigalson]

[From here.]

He was staring blankly at the room laid out in front of him. He had been doing this for several moments, in fact. Half of the reason he was doing so was from surprise. The other half was his mind was suddenly forced into accepting and acknowledging the natural senses he had abandoned in Landel's, and it was taking more than a short second to accustom himself to being able to see every single dust mote floating in the streaks of light coming from high set windows.

It hadn't even been a week, but Edward swore he had forgotten how large the opening room was, or the smell of the lacquered piano sitting nonchalantly on a raised platform near the stairwell.

A rather annoying thumping was interrupting his train of thoughts (though that train had certainly been stalled); it took a moment to realize it was the beat of Venom's heart. He had not heard the sound since he had met the man. but now it was akin to a base drum sitting next to his ear. Pounding.

In some lofty portion of his mind, Edward was thinking about how being transported to a mirror of your memories was something that happened to other people. Venom seemed a victim of bad luck, after all. It certainly wasn't meant to happen to him. What threat would Landel find in Forks, of all places? A stray bear wandering into town, perhaps?

If the sight of the dust motes and the sound of Venom's heart and the smell of the blood pumping under his skin and how startlingly strong he felt - like he could run forever, and it was quite possible he could - were any indication, that wandering bear would hardly be worth his notice. Nothing was, really. Not while he was here.

He might have been more hopeful, seeing the lit, airy bottom floor of his home if two things hadn't occurred to him: Venom's Guild, and the knowledge of his family. Alice would have seen his coming. Esme would have felt it. Carlisle would have come running. All of them would have smelled him, heard him - and most definitely the human with him. But there were no signs of any other vampires in the house; no sign of any thing, living or dead. And Emmmett - Emmett, who he had not talked to in a day, which was much too long for him - was not mysteriously beside him, looking at home with him. The pang he felt at the memory of his long-standing family was painful; a knife in the heart that turned slowly in time with the second hand of a clock.

Edward took a few steps forward into the room, lifting the cover over the piano's keys - cleaned and oiled well, it moved on silent hinges. Just as he had left it. He pushed one key down, and the tone echoed throughout the room. Still tuned.

"My home," he said, lifting that same hand to tentatively press against his cheek. The cuts on his face were gone. He wasn't dressed in the gray sweats anymore - a shirt and jeans, the same clothes he had worn when Bella had made her final decision about Jacob.

He wished she was here, standing with open arms, ready to greet him back home. So he could touch her, and be strong, and ask her what he should do now. Looking at the house around him, he didn't know himself.

Comments

[anemptydecapo]

Venom had by now stopped being surprised at their constant shifts through space. Really, it was just getting aggravating and tiresome. From both the fact that this looked nothing like the layout of Landel's and Edward's reaction to his surroundings, they were some place he recognized. His house, then? It was nowhere near as large as the Guild, nowhere near as formal. It was... "comfy" was an odd term for him to use, but it was all that came to mind. It was...

The strangest thing of all should have been the fact that it was morning. It wasn't.

There were few words to describe the out-of-place sensation he was feeling at the moment. The colors here were more akin to those in Landel's, more subtle and dull than he were used to, much more soft than anything seen at the Guild. That was odd, wasn't it? That he were used to everything being so brightly colored, for black to be black and white to be white, and everything between to clearly be what it was supposed to be. It was something he'd never noticed before until catching his own reflection in the windows here, the mash of black, white, and blue clashing horribly against this toned-down room. He'd felt normal at home. He wasn't even bothered by it when lurking in the cold shadows of the institute. Now he felt like a cartoon that had been transplanted into "the real world." That was ridiculous. His world was real. If that were the case, this was the cartoon.

It still felt wrong.

The sudden note echoing throughout the room pulled him away from those thoughts and back to the matter at hand. They weren't in Landel's anymore. Again.

But that didn't matter. The vertigo was wearing off and leaving with it was Venom's patience. He'd already wasted enough time turning into a soft-hearted woman and almost allowing some shape-shifting demon to get the better of them because of his own stupidity. He wasn't going to let Edward fall into the same traps he had. "You're going to need to find a weapon for when we get back," he said as he cautiously (if he were at full strength in the Guild, there was no doubt Edward would have little trouble killing him here) moved to the vampire's side. He paused, voice attempting to grow softer and instead only sounding disinterested. "I don't think she's here."

[prodigalson]

"I know," he responded, sounding very much like he didn't want to be reminded of either point. Or anything at all, really. Edward felt he was going to be feeling much more empathy for Venom than he previously had before.

As much as he kept looking at the top of the stairwell, past the smooth rail, he knew she was not going to step down into sight.

Edward went to his room silently, digging through the chest of drawers next to his bed where he stored several keychains. In the time it had taken him to return downstairs, the assassin couldn't have taken more than one step.

Surprise. You're a monster again.

If anything, he had missed the speed. It just made everything... simpler. "Follow me," he said, practicing each step with a mental count of three seconds. Moving at human speed; that was a skill Landel's had helped him lose already. To an outside observer, his movements were almost glitchy, one step a blur while the other was too slow, but old habits were easy enough to fall back into. He went through the kitchen and out the back door, leading into a meticulously organized garage.

As he had suspected, both Carlisle's Mercedes and Rosalie's BMW were parked next to a third, covered car - when he slipped the blue tarp off, it revealed an Aston Martin Vanquish. If no one was going to be in Forks, he was going to take advantage of it.

And it was much easier than hauling Venom's weight around himself.

Hissing when he opened the door - he gripped the poor car's door handle too hard, permanently imprinting his fingers into it - he looked over the hood, staring down the assassin. "We're going to her house. Just to check." The assassin could argue if he wanted; Edward would just leave him here. What damage could he do?

[anemptydecapo]

Truth be told, the assassin held no amount of surprise at the vampire's speed - it wasn't anything new to him, not after dealing with the Guild's founder. He followed when asked, taking in the surroundings quietly (and Edward's stuttered movements. That was strange) and to...

What was that?

The future wasn't entirely devoid of transportation vehicles, but due to fluctuating economies, outdated technology, and plain lack of interest, private vehicles of this type were rare and far between. Most would simply invest in public transport, go by airship or, God forbid, just walk to their destinations. As it were, the roads then weren't exactly constructed for this type of heavy traffic. That isn't to say Venom hadn't seen this type of automobile before (the Guild had a few for various reasons, but they normally went untouched in favor of the aforementioned airships and walking), only that... he'd never seen one like this.

The buses from the morning had been dulled and rusted, the air around them reeking of burned oil. This was obviously well-kept and taken care off, its edges curved and reflecting in the room's lighting. Though it wasn't as if the vehicle was not aesthetically pleasing to look at, the question remained: why would Edward need three of these things?

Maybe that wasn't important. What was was the notion in Edward's mind that they'd be able to make it to wherever his fiance's home managed to be without being taken back to the institute before then. It had only encompassed what portions of the Guild they had gone through before; how far would it take to leave from Edward's house now? A mile? Half of one? Five feet? If they ventured off and were taken back, wouldn't this have been a waste?

But Edward wanted to make sure and there was little Venom could do to stop him with the disadvantage he had now. And even if he could, it wasn't as if he could judge that decision. He could be irritated by it, if only because he didn't need to be following the deranged thoughts of someone else on top of his own, but he had no room to judge. ...Though the idea of Edward being the one at the wheel of this thing was--

Shut up, Venom. Get in the car.

Alright then...

[prodigalson]

He really didn't need to hear Venom's doubts - he was mirroring the same in his own mind, wishing very hard that they were not about to come true. It was enough of a torture to see his home empty and dead, without a family to greet him back. He wasn't even sure if they could find him. For all he knew, this world could have been just an elaborate illusion. He might not have even killed that thing that wore Zato's face, despite the fact that he felt so full.

It was very hard to distinguish reality from fiction since this particular night had started.

The car's leather interior greeted him noisily, the seat's position exactly where he had left it. Even if small indention in the steering wheel's cover were the same, his fingers fitting perfectly - albeit very gently. He did not want the poor wheel to suffer the same fate as the door handle, which was going to take enough to fix as it was (if it was even his car).

He stayed silent as the car switched on with its soft, familiar purr, waiting for the assassin to seat himself and shut the door before he jerked the Martin into reverse, flying out of the garage and leaving the Mercedes and BMW far behind him.

Nothing so far. Still Forks. Still the same green, alien planet Bella had described to him.

That gave him confidence; slamming hard on the break while switching to drive, the car turned on a dime, swishing its tail around and facing where they had come from. It didn't pause after the maneuver; it was going straight now, gaining speed as it raced past Forks' forestry, painting the windows outside various shades of green. With this speed - steadily increasing to 70 as he hit the main road - it wouldn't take more than five minutes to get to Bella's house.

God, it was freeing. No cars on the road, no people in sight. Just Edward and his car (and one unfortunate man along for the ride). Sometimes shades of sunlight would spike through the tree branches and the car's window to hit his arm and shatter into various colors like a prism, but he hardly noticed. It was all about the speed.

Nearing 80.

Focusing on the road, he didn't have to remember that he had been covered in blood not more than twenty minutes ago, having felt the ends of a heartbeat under his tongue and that the man had not been nearly human, but just human enough to seem so. He didn't have to remember that he was trapped in a mental institution, having died, having seen his deceased mother, and having to go back soon enough.

90.

Before slamming to a long, screeching stop in front of a white, plain, two-story house, with an old red Chevy truck sitting in the front yard, rusting.

[anemptydecapo]

The cue was placed in the back, carefully rested on the floor to keep anything unfortunate from happening to it as Edward began to put things into gear. It wasn't completely horrible, really. The ride was smooth enough and the insides soft and comfortable and Oh God he is going to kill us.

He hadn't even gotten to examine the seatbelt before the automobile flew out of the garage and spun on its tail. The assassin couldn't even manage a gasp or a not so subtle argument for the vampire to slow down, every inch of his body attempting to stay calm, face faulting, arms locking, and hands digging into his seat despite this, and his mind rebelled.

This had stopped being leisurely. This was not fun. The outside world was a blur of green, blue, and the occasional speck of blinding yellow and oh God, he was going to die. He had inadvertently put his life in Edward's hands and now he was going to die. He didn't want to die here. He had a mission to fulfill. He had promises he had made. And now he was going to die.

Every single bump illicited a quiet panicked breath, each sharp turn forcing his fingers to dig deeper into leather. This was not fun. This was not relaxing. He was going to die. Oh God, he didn't want to die here. He didn't want to die this way, not because Edward didn't understand the concept of a speed limit. He couldn't die this way. This was not how it was going to happen. But he couldn't move. He couldn't grab onto the seatbelt in time and now if he let go he was going to fly out the window and die.

oh my god I am heartfully sorry for having offended you and I detest all of my sins because of thy just punishment but most of all because I have offended thee my god oh god oh god

The vehicle screeched to a halt and the sudden stop forced the Guild Head to rock forward with the force of it, attempting to remain as stoic as possible for someone five inches away from having their head bashed painfully against a dashboard. When finally sure there would be no more movement, he straightened again as if absolutely nothing had happened. There were no words. The indents his fingers were still causing on the seat beneath him spoke for themselves.

"..."

[prodigalson]

Edward quite imagined this could have been a similar train of thought that went through his Bella's mind in times when his driving became... somewhat unsafe. Which was quite often, in her estimation. Probably. Perhaps there were some moments in which it was best that her mind was silent to him. As it was, he was focusing very, very hard on not becoming irritated with the chanting.

It's not like Venom knew he could hear all of it.

"That wasn't so bad," he remarked for his own sake once he'd shut the car's door behind him, running a thumb back over the twisted metal of the handle. Maybe if he was lucky, this world was just... separate from the real Forks. It was easier to imagine it that way. He didn't have to imagine reasons why all of the town's inhabitants were gone (there hadn't been one car on the road, nor any scents as evidence that someone had been there once) or that he really had just ruined the door of his three hundred thousand dollar car.

The light shattered on his skin once he left the shade of the Martin, but he was focused on bigger things. No time to explain the reaction to Venom. The Swan residence's front door was unlocked, and he stepped in without hesitation.

It was a good fake, he'd give it that. The sunflower yellow kitchen was still yellow, and the air was warm and human. The banister leading upstairs was solid and wooden under his fingertips as he swept through the house, looking for traces of her. Her bed was neatly made - and cold. There were pictures around the room, scattered on the computer desk and pinned to the walls; one of these was ripped out from the wall and stuck in his pocket.

"You're going to need to find a weapon," Venom had said, and it was true enough. Despite how unnerved the whole thing made him, he was going to have to view this miniature Forks like just another room in the institute. It went beyond his nature to doubt something his eyes could see, but... there wasn't any other choice. Trying to comprehend otherwise would just lead to forced, circular logic.

He stomped back downstairs, cabinet doors squeaking as he forged his way through them. Luckily his memory was distinct enough to recall the 12 gauge side-by-side that Charlie was known to clean as often as his issued handgun; the thing probably still worked like a charm, knowing him. He just... wasn't sure where it was kept. The living room was clean - no showman gun cases here - so he went back to check Charlie's bedroom.

Tucked away in a square of his closet, past pressed suits and soiled jeans. Not very subtle, but the police chief probably trusted his daughter enough to know she wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt to use the weapon. There was even a box of shells seated next to it.

"She's not here," Edward said with finality, back by Venom's side. He was sure the answer would be something like, "No, really? Tell me more." "I'm not sure how to get out, honestly. Was there anything particularly strange about the forest surrounding where we had been earlier? Something that would make it a... teleportation point?"

[anemptydecapo]

Wasn't so bad. That was a joke. Venom's mouth opened, preparing to laugh at it or at least say something contrary, but all that came out was a breath he didn't remember holding in. By the time he even turned his head to look at the monster, Edward had already slammed the door shut and wandered off without him.

He didn't like being alone in this car.

Finally relaxing himself (though the term "relax" was debatable when used in this context), the Guild Head finally opened the door to his side and made his way out, pain shooting from his feet the moment he touched solid ground and making its way through his legs and knees. He walked on despite it, the bruise on his hip burning with every step he took and the muscles in his arms and fingers beginning to ache from tensing in silent terror during the drive.

Let it hurt. He hadn't even managed to knock down something wearing Master Zato's face without falling back on Edward to handle it. When he acted alone, he caused more damage to himself than it and the damn thing just got away. He'd welcome the bruises as reminder for his failures - he couldn't keep letting this happen.

He stopped just barely at the house's door and waited there, unwilling to enter on something this private when it wasn't any of his business. He waited quietly until Edward came back out again, the assassin's eyes and interest trailing to the rifle in the vampire's hands (he'd never seen a gun like that before) but answering the question for politeness' sake. "No." Though, to be honest, "strange" was another debatable word when used to describe anything Venom had been around. "But I imagine that straying too far from the original point of entrance would work to send us back, if that is what you want."

He shifted his weight to his right leg, ignoring the subsequent pain from the movement, and titled his head at the other. "Is this the only place you were going to look?"

[prodigalson]

Nothing particular about it... based on what little information they had garnered about the whole phenomenon, Edward was likely to agree with that assessment. It made the most sense out of everything, either way. With there being no trace of Bella near his own home and her's, he was willing to bet she wasn't here. She would be looking for him, right? And she knew what places were his haunts.

He'd checked the high school on the way to her house - completely deserted. Not even cars in the parking lot.

It was like the two of them had - and were - experiencing their own private hallucinations. Just enough to create the environment, but not the people who should be there. Normally, a feat that was unbelievable. After dying? No.

He was almost glad to have seen Venom's first. Now it was hard to be surprised by anything.

"Just one more place," Edward decided, placing the barrel of the shotgun on his shoulder. He'd have the be careful holding it if he didn't want to break the damn thing like he had his car. This last place... he wasn't even sure Bella could get there on her own. She wasn't fantastic with directions, and she certainly hadn't memorized the path there through unidentifiable forest and foliage. But he had to try anyway. "If she's not there, she's not in this town at all." After leaning down to get back into the car, he popped back up with a quip: "I'll drive slow this time."

Venom hesitated but eventually relented; Edward kept his promise, keeping to the speed limit (or maybe a little over, but it was close enough.) The road was smooth for the most part, but even the Martin started bumping once he turned off onto the road towards the summit of a mountain, covered in gravel.

[To here.]