Title: Damnably Ironic
Summary: A chance meeting in the dark of Fork's woods changes everything. (I can't believe I just wrote a Twilight fan fiction. No, seriously.)
Rating: K+ (Even though the only curse word is in the title…)

I suppose that somebody, somewhere has the words I need to describe this moment.

The quote I'm looking for is probably a cross between hindsight is 20/20, the course of love never ran true, and the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

None of this matters at the moment because a witty or eloquent remark is the very last thing on my mind, eyes staring into the disturbing, yet utterly intelligent ones of the one vampire I didn't want to cross paths with. Certainly, not alone in the dark woods, mere hours after jumping off a cliff into a freezing cold river.

My skin is probably just as cold as hers right now.

Of course, that doesn't matter, either.

There's something about those eyes that draw me. They're fascinating. Utterly terrifying, you understand, because this creature could rip my heart from my chest cavity before I take my next breath, but even imminent death doesn't detract from her crimson tinged irises. She's staring at me with revenge and a twisted sense of justice, even for a vampire.

Oddly, or not, considering my frequent and most recent foray into insanity, I'm not scared. By all that's genetically human, I should be. God knows my reactions to the strange and beyond have a track-record of being less than appropriate, but something about this just feels wrong. In more than the I'm about to die kind of way. Not three hours after my delusional and desperate jump off a cliffside and she shows up like an angel of mercy, whispering promises.

None of the pack are anywhere nearby. Ironically, they're widening their search routes hoping to avoid the very situation I've just found myself in. They're trying to catch the vampire who stands not ten feet from me, completely confident and brazen.

I'm not a fool. I know that she holds all the cards, and in some small way, I respect her. She's put an incredible effort in to what she considers her right.

I'm starting to become nervous, and not just because she's a gorgeous killing machine determined to end my life brutally and possibly slowly… What unnerves me is that she's not moving. She's just staring at me silently. I could take, would prefer, to face that all-consuming rage than this cool appraisal.

She's still tragically beautiful, as all of their kind are, but her eyes have changed in a totally human way. She still has that wilderness about her, a certain wickedness she doesn't even try to hide, but her gaze is oh-so clear. She's determined. She's decided something that doesn't bode well for me.

Not that this could end any other way, you see, but who does vengeance better than vampires?

I suddenly, almost magically understand what I'm seeing in her now. She's being cautious of her actions, anticipating their individual outcomes and her responsibility. With James gone, and Laurent as well, she's only herself to complete this mission. She's the only creature in existence she can trust.

Despite knowing that I won't get to see tomorrow's sunrise, I pity her.

"I was going to kill you."

When her voice startles me, I become only too aware of how stupid it is to woolgather around a murderous vampire.

I've never heard her voice before. We didn't exactly have occasion to speak with one another, what with her boyfriend and mine trying to kill each other. It has the standard musical lilt, but there's also a harshness under there, bordering on hoarse. How long has it been since she's heard any other voice besides her own?

"Yes."

I'm hardly surprised that my voice doesn't tremble, but apparently she is. It isn't like I'd believed I was coming out of this little tête-à-tête. Perhaps she'd expected me to weep, or beg? I haven't felt those singularly powerful emotions in so long I'm not sure if anything would truly frighten me again.

"I assume that before Laurent's untimely death he told you of my newfound purpose."

She's walking in a slow circle around me, almost pacing.

"I have changed my mind."

She's watching me for a reaction this time, I'm sure.

"So you're not going to kill me?"

Victoria smiles, and even though she's got these amazingly sharp teeth, it's looks less like a shark than I imagined it would and more like a mad genius. Funny, but I'm less afraid of the former. I wasn't expecting a calculating strategist; it's not something I know how to deal with.

"I didn't say that. However, I am going to say you're looking rather worse for the war. I feared you would kill yourself before I could get here."

I resist the urge to snort, but just barely, thinking, you and everyone else.

"It's a pity, isn't it? The noble vampire denies himself a mate to protect her frail human body, but in doing so, has successfully sealed her fate."

Her face changes for the first time since she'd come upon me. It's not exactly anger, but the effect is certainly similar. Her voice is heavy with deadly slivers of ice: breath-takingly beautiful and completely lethal.

"He took my most treasured possession, and now I'm returning the favor."

I laughed.

Well, I snorted derisively. If she's been watching half as long as I assume, she should have realized how flawed her assumptions were. I'd certainly gotten that particular message loud and clear.

"You're wrong, you know. He left; they all did. He couldn't care less what happens to me now; you're just wasting your time playing with me."

She smiles at me again, but this time she looks like she's trying to explain quantum physics to a three year-old. She pauses in her pacing around me, stopping directly behind me to whisper dramatically in my ear.

It works.

"My dear Bella, I'm not just going to kill your body, I'm going to destroy your soul."

Oh, suddenly, shivering, I fear this creature. She could have always killed me, tortured me, what have you, but this plan of hers was carefully calculated to hurt someone besides me. Somehow she knew our biggest argument. She knew that Edward's greatest fear had been for my soul rather than my body, be that my eventual aging or death. Even I knew that, should she forcibly turn me, and despite the fact that he hadn't wanted me, it would torture him for the rest of his existence. Edward would live forever with the belief that he'd damned my eternal soul and feel that he deserved his own damnation for it.

That long-established and never-forgotten hole in my chest throbbed at the idea. He might not love me, and he might want nothing to do with me, but I still wanted only his happiness.

I had to try and change her mind.

"That hardly sounds threatening," I tossed out nonchalantly, even going so far as to wave a hand in her direction. "I mean, he tore your James apart with his hands. You should have heard the shrieking as he burned alive like a witch." I slid her a condescending look, saying, "He would be disappointed in your lack of creativity This is only going to reward me! I wanted to be a vampire. Once I'm immortal, I can convince Edward, so if you think about it you're only doing us both a favor. Imagine, your mate's murderers getting exactly what they want. Seems a poor way to honor him if you ask me."

She was in front of me in an instant, my wrist suddenly fragile as glass in her own marble fingers. With the smallest amount of pressure, she squeezed and my bones shattered like some brittle fossil. Still, though, there was no flash of rage in those red eyes, only bemusement.

"I didn't, and you will not provoke me into killing you. I've been practicing my control. I rather like the effect it has, don't you?"

When she caught my palm in her hand, running a finger over James' bite mark reverently, I knew her plan in all it's brilliance.

"The first marks on your immortal body will be these, forever to be a reminder to your beloved Edward of the bloodstains on your soul, and with it, the knowledge that such a stigmata is entirely his fault."

She looked up at me one last time, crimson eyes pinning me in place.

"We will meet again, Isabella. Strangely, I look forward to it."

Her razor-sharp incisors sank into my yielding flesh like a hot knife through melted butter. The pain echoed in my other palm, the two bite marks throbbing like mad in time with my blood flow. I had a momentary hope that I might be able to save myself, as Edward had done in the studio so long ago, by sucking the poisoned blood out of the wound, however, she licked the puncture slowly. The venom in the blood sealed my skin and effectively sealed my fate in quickly-spreading fire.

It was through cloudy vision I saw her calmly walk away, looking over her shoulder one last time as I writhed on the cold ground.

I felt the fire swell within me, just like last time, and I let it carry me to my uncertain fate like a broken shell out to sea. My last conscious thought was directed to the Edward I'd created in my mind.

I'm sorry.