A/N: So, this is my first try at writing. While I am open to criticism, both good and bad, please make sure it is constructive.

If you read the poorly written summary, you know that this story is based around the entire Cullen clan, both known members (thanks to the lovely writing of Stephenie Meyer) and some I've made up. But, the main character, at this point is Seth Clearwater. But, not the Seth we all know and love, a different, darker Seth. Something has happened to him, long ago and made him this way. You'll find out later exactly what that something was.

This does take place 50 years after Breaking Dawn and although I'm sure the world will be a somewhat different place, we will assume the world looks the same. No flying cars or anything like that. No dramatic environment changes, no robots walking around, etc.

I will be telling the story of the past 50 years in a retrospective manner. Looking back, through present moments of reflection. This first chapter is just to get things going, no looking back quite yet.

Please be aware that this story is rated "M" meaning that if you aren't of legal age, you shouldn't read it. Expect profanity, lots of lemons, death, violence . . . the whole thing, you get the idea. Even this chapter is dark.

I want to give a shout out, not only to SM, but also to my favorite fanfic authors (see my profile) for inspiring me to write. I've read your stories and you are all so talented. I hope that someone will enjoy reading my story at least half as much as I've enjoyed reading yours! I think you have a lot of courage to put yourselves out there and you've inspired me to do the same.

So, I'm not really sure what else to say and don't really know if anyone will like it, but I can't help but try. I've had this idea in my head now for like 4 years and I'm tired of it just stewing there, so here goes nothing . . .

Chapter 1 - Nothing

I rolled off her. She was still moaning and shaking, practically convulsing. Clearly, she had enjoyed it. Me? Well, I was left feeling the same as I had been for the last 20 years or so – numb, and not the good kind of numb. The numb that tells a person that they can't feel anything, because they aren't anything. Sex was meant to please the body and the mind. And, yet, there were absolutely no feelings of pleasure on my side of things.

Don't get me wrong. Everything physically worked fine. Getting hard wasn't the problem. Lasting wasn't the problem. Making her cum wasn't the problem. I had just stopped enjoying sex long ago. I couldn't even tell you why I still did it. I guess it was my hopeless attempt to feel something, to feel anything. But, no. Nothing. That's all there was – nothing.

"Wow! You are a sex god!" she exclaimed. Guess that should've made me feel better, made me sense something, but all I got was the numbness. I screwed my face into a menacing grimace. She was so far gone, she didn't even seem to notice. "Seriously! How . . . ? How . . . ? I mean . . . Oh, God."

I rolled my eyes and sat up. I went to the bathroom to take a shower and to wash whatever-her-name was off of me. I had picked her up last night at some bar off I-55. I turned the water on-maximum heat. I watched as the steam filled the room, clouding the mirrors. I stepped inside the shower and under the falling water. I closed my eyes, hoping to feel a burning shock of pain. But, nothing.

Frustrated, I quickly flicked the nozzle to the coldest temperature possible. C'mon. C'mon. C'mon. Feel. Feel. Feel! Sharp icicles stabbing my skin-that's what I wanted to feel. I would take it. Pain, gut-wrenching pain even. I would take anything over nothing. But, again, that's all there was-nothing. You would think after twenty years I would be used to it and stop even hoping for it, but I couldn't. I couldn't . . .

I heard her get out of bed, my super senses jumping to action. Don't come in here. Do not come in here, I thought. The shower door opened. Son of a bitch!

"I found you!" she giggled, in her dumb-ass way. She was the picture perfect image of a bimbo. I forced myself not to look too disgusted, trying to remind myself that it wasn't her fault that I was a monster that couldn't have normal human reactions. "You made me cum so many times," she purred.

I think she was trying for round two: shower sex. I wasn't biting at that hook. She must have noticed that I was not joining her in the post-sex high. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I didn't say anything, just turned my back and finished rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. She put her arms around me. "Did you enjoy it? I mean . . . you came, right?" she questioned. I let my arms fall by my sides and decided against making her feel as shitty as I did.

"Yea. Yea, it was great. You were great," I lied, and I'm sure not very convincingly. Truth be told, I wouldn't know what great was anymore. And, no, I hadn't orgasmed. I hadn't orgasmed in 20 years, well give or take a day or two. Sex, whether it be oral, vaginal or anal never worked. Hand-jobs? Nope. Masturbation was just as useless. Porn, toys, S and M, role playing, threesomes, foursomes, you get the idea - nothing worked. I couldn't get there anymore.

At one point, I started questioning my sexuality. Was I gay? I had nothing against those who were, but I had never thought I would be. So, I tried watching some gay porn and after about two minutes, I gave up on that. Definitely not my thing. At least with women there was some arousal, how else could I get hard? Just no big finale.

I felt her relax a little, clearly pacified, believing that I had enjoyed myself. She started placing small kisses along my back. I tensed. I hated how I felt about her in that moment. I was disgusted by her. I wanted her hands off of me immediately. I was getting more and more pissed off by the second. Before something bad happened, I needed to get out of there. I pulled her arms, as gently as I could, from around me. I didn't want to physically hurt this woman, so I kept chanting to myself: It's not her fault. It's not her fault.

Stepping out of the shower, I said, "I've got to go." I closed the door, leaving her looking upset and confused.

The water was turned off and she stepped out. I quickly began to towel myself off and dress myself. "So . . . " she said, trailing off and looking very uncomfortable, as they always did at this point. I sat on the edge of her bed, tying my shoes. I looked up at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish, to ask me if I would call her or when we would see each other again.

And as expected, she asked, "So, do you want my number or maybe, do you have facebook?"

I took a deep breath. I really didn't like this part. I didn't want to be a heartbreaker, but I also never wanted to see her face again. "No. No, I don't.," I paused, speaking in a low and calm voice. "And, let me tell you why. I am the ultimate asshole. I will never be able to make you happy and I don't want to even try. So, let's just leave it at great sex. That's what this was and nothing more. Now, you can keep this to yourself or go and tell your friends about the jackass you had to deal with this weekend. I don't really care. You are a nice person and I'm certainly not going to lie to you and tell you something I think you want to hear right now. So, no. I won't call you. You won't call me. You won't facebook me. I won't facebook you and we will never see each other again." I didn't even wait to hear what she said, or wait for the tears to start falling. I grabbed my wallet and cell off the nightstand, shoved them into my pocket and walked towards the door.

"I'm sorry," I whispered lowly, knowing that she couldn't have possibly heard. I didn't want her to hear, to think even for a second, that I hadn't meant what I said. Because, I had. I never wanted to look into that face of hers again.

So, yea. This is me. I am a jerk. I am an asshole. I am a dick. I am nothing. I am Seth Clearwater.

*A/N: So, with a lot of nervousness, I'm about to post my first chapter. Ah! Please review and like I stated earlier, all criticism is welcome as long as it is constructive! Thanks so much for giving me a chance!