Summary: A nomadic, orange-eyed vampire finds her creator 86 years later when she stumbles across Carlisle and his family after a hunt.
Trigger Warning: Semi-graphic depictions of abuse (doesn't describe what happens but describes the outcome), blood
I got carried away with this idea and I want to thank @shittytwilightaus for helping me with the idea and encouraging me to write it! As they said: “We’re all for abusers getting their due in this house.”
This wasn’t the first time this had happened but I knew this was going to be the last, I had given up. When he came home drunk and, for whatever reason, decided I wasn’t good enough, I knew I didn’t have enough fight left in me to survive this round of ‘punishments’ as he called them. My vision was blurring and I could barely hear the hateful words he threw at me.
This is it. I thought. This is the day I finally get released from this hell.
I was only drug out of my thoughts by the sound of him now screaming, though the screams were quickly silenced and soon the angel that silenced him was standing over me. I couldn’t see anything about the angel, my vision starting to black out and I could feel it was getting harder to keep my eyes open. The next thing I registered was pain, extreme pain flowing throughout my body as if I was lit on fire, but I didn’t have the energy to scream.
Is this how dying feels? I always thought it would be peaceful, not painful, but I didn’t care at this point, as long as I wasn’t going to have to deal with him the next morning.
I wasn’t sure when the burning started to fade, it felt like it all just moved to my throat. When I finally opened my eyes again, everything was too bright and clear for me. I brought my hand up to shield my face but stopped dead when I saw it. Instead of my hand and arm being covered in bruises like I expected, it was perfect. There weren’t any faded bruises, no sign of ever having a hand laid on me, but there also wasn’t the usually pink flush I had to my skin. I looked too pale for myself.
I sat up, expecting to feel some soreness from the broken ribs I had, but feeling nothing. My whole body was one shade, the coloring too even to be natural. There were no imperfections. I stood up and shakily made my way to the bathroom, looking over myself. My bones were no longer protruding from my too-thin frame and I looked like I had been healthy and well taken care of my whole life.
I couldn’t stop staring at my body. My thighs were no longer sickly thin and looked like they would snap if I walked for too long, they were full to a point of my liking. I had a figure, soft curves and breasts a size that I actually liked. My face wasn’t gaunt anymore, my cheeks were full and my lips were pink again, not bruised and busted. I felt like I was in a dream until I saw my eyes. My blood red eyes. Then I realized what had happened. There were legends about the red-eyes and, once I was grown, I thought they were just bedtime stories to scare kids into behaving, but now I was one and the fire in my throat proved it. I couldn’t have become a monster. I couldn’t be a thing that killed people. I had feared being killed for so long and now I was going to have to kill to live
I stepped out of the bathroom, finding my husband lying on the kitchen floor, too pale to be alive, but I couldn’t see a bite mark where whoever changed me had drained him, it looked like he had actually had his neck broken. Whoever changed me, had left my husband killed in a way that could be blamed on another human. His blood smelled stale from sitting for three days and had no appeal to me.
I couldn’t do it anyways. I couldn’t drain him even if he was the most appetizing smell yet.
It was dark out, I didn’t know how much time had passed since I was bitten, but I didn’t really care to find out, I just wanted it all to end. I had wanted to be saved, but not by being turned into something would cause others pain. I stepped outside and, before others could realize who or what I was, I took off running. The burning in my throat only grew hotter and hotter as I passed the humans in their houses, each of their heartbeats drawing me in. I couldn’t though, I had to keep running.
I didn’t stop until I reached a forest far enough away from town that no one would come through the thick brush. I could hear every animal’s heartbeat but none of them were quite the same as what the humans did to me. It didn’t matter, anyway, red-eyes couldn’t survive on animals anyway. I would just wait until I died.
Days had passed since I had hidden myself away in the forest. I thought that I would’ve starved by now, four nights had passed, but I still felt like I could run for days on end. A breeze blew through the forest and the scent caught my attention, it wasn’t nearly as close to appetizing as a human’s, but it was a close second right now. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. Before I could even realize what was happening, I had tackled the coyote. It was an easy fight and it was drained within second. It didn’t do much to the burning in my throat and I found a few more that were quickly drained. I still felt my throat burning, but I felt full, weirdly enough. If I could continue on this way, I might not hate this anymore. I was stronger than any human and none of them could hurt me, I didn’t even need to see a human if I could survive like this.
That was 86 years ago, before I learned about my ability, before I truly understood what my ability could help me with. It took me a while to understand why I was suddenly seeing colors around everyone, what those colors meant, and what pattern of colors usually pointed out about someone, but I had more than enough time to learn and now it was a pretty easy pattern for me to follow.
I knew what colors kind hearted people had around them. I knew what colors anxious people had around them. I knew what colors depressed people had around them, and more often than not I was sure to leave them an anonymous note that someone around them loved them and it was worth fighting, and almost always their colors were a little bit brighter the next time I saw them. But most importantly, to me, I knew what colors and patterns abusive people seemed to have floating around them. They were always murky and looked like swamp water bled together with the most polluted ocean water.
They were the easiest kills I made.
My diet was all animal blood for the first few years of my life, until I learned what patterns meant what, it turned my eyes from blood red, to orange, then to a golden color. Every vampire I ran into for the first ten years had either been confused or intrigued by my eyes, always asking me how I managed to live off of animal blood. Now, they give me the same questions, but asking me about how my eyes are orange and I manage to not stop feeding on animals and give in and live 100% off of humans. The answer for me is always the same, I was killed by a human and I don’t want them to feel the fear I felt why I was dying, but I refused to let abusive people walk around and continue terrorizing the people in their lives.
It’s the same questions I’m being asked by the yellow eyed family in front of me. I was currently in Marquette, Michigan and had killed multiple abusive men and women from here and surrounding cities.
“I’m sorry my family and I never introduced ourselves. My name is Carlisle, this is my wife Esme, and these are our adoptive kids for blending purposes; Edward, his wife Bella, and their daughter Renesmee, Emmett and his wife Rosalie, and Jasper and his wife Alice.” Carlisle said. He wasn’t like others I had stumbled upon. He was more kind about the misunderstanding of territories, not threatening about it. I looked around the group and paid deep attention to their surrounding colors. You could tell they all had some kind of emotional struggles, some worse than others, but they all had positive auras surrounding them. It’s what made me trust them.
“Nice to meet you all. My name is Eleanor.” I said, shaking Carlisle and Esme’s extended hands and making eye contact with the rest of the family.
“I’m afraid your hunting patterns have caused us a bit of trouble with trying to blend in.” Carlisle spoke again causing me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Blend in? “We know as a newborn you don’t have the best of control and we’re willing to help you-“
“I’m not a newborn.” I said, cutting him off. “I haven’t been a newborn in 65 years.” This time it was their turn to all look confused, most of them sharing looks with their respective mates.
“She’s not lying, she was changed in 1933.” Edward spoke up, causing Carlisle to look at him then back to me.
“I forgot to mention a few of us are gifted, Edward can read minds.” He said, apologetically. I was just relieved he didn’t say how I was changed or what brought about it. From the slight nod Edward gave me when I looked up at him, I knew he wouldn’t tell anyone. I would easily tell them, it’s just not something I wanted someone else telling them.
“It’s okay. I can see auras so I’m not intimidated by a couple gifted vampires.” I told Carlisle, who chuckled at my tone.
“I’m glad to know that we don’t make you uncomfortable in that sense.”
“You don’t, but I am a bit confused about what you mean about blending in.” I told him.
“We maintain a permanent residence in this city. Since we only hunt animals, we only really have to conceal ourselves in sunlight. It’s the best way to live our lives without feeling like we’re constantly on the run. We used to live in Forks, Washington, until people began to notice we weren’t aging about five years ago.” Esme explained to me.
“You said you were changed 86 years ago, correct?” Carlisle asked. I nodded as my response. “Then, if you don’t mind my asking, why are your eyes that orange color? Most mature vampires don’t decide on a diet change 86 years after their creation if they’re nomads.”
“I was changed when I was 22 and on the brink of death. A vampire was drawn to my house by the smell of my blood and found my husband standing over my near lifeless figure.” I started, confident in my words. I had healed from my past and I didn’t find it hard to share it anymore. “I don’t remember what my creator looked like or if they were even male or female. All I know was that they snapped my abuser’s neck, left him with his blood still in his body, and changed me. I tried starving myself when I woke up, legends of red eyes killing people in order to survive was something I was raised on, and I didn’t want to have to kill people to live when my death was almost brought on by another human. I spent almost a week hiding miles away from humans, but eventually snapped when a coyote came across my path. I was thirsty enough that even that animal was enough to somewhat quench my thirst, and that’s how I lived for the first ten years of my life until I trusted myself to go around humans again.
“It wasn’t until I went around humans again that I realized what my gift was, and through another decade of studying the colors, I was able to learn what colors pointed to abusers and that’s when I started killing them. I only drink human blood when I know their abusive, I survive on animal blood any other time or when I feel I’m relying too much on human blood.” I finished. I expected Carlisle to speak up next, but instead it was Rosalie who spoke up, stepping away from Emmett and next to Carlisle and Esme,
“You said you were changed in 1933. What city did you live in?” She asked me.
“Rochester, New York. Why?” I asked, my eyebrows, once again, furrowing in confusion and looking at all of the faces of the family and all of them seeming just as confused as me, except for Edward who had a huge smile in his face. It took her a couple seconds to finally reply, her face shocked and disbelieving,
“I think I’m the one who turned you.” She said, “I never thought it worked, I didn’t even taste your blood when I bit you, I could barely hear your heartbeat, I thought for sure I was too late.”
I didn’t know how to reply, too shocked to even think of a response. I stuttered over the starting of multiple sentences before giving up on trying to give her a response.
“I’m sorry and I completely understand if you hate me, I went through my own experience and I couldn’t bare to leave someone in that situation when I knew there was something I could do.” Rosalie said quickly, as if she was afraid I’d be mad at her.
“Eleanor’s not upset, Rose.” Jasper said, “Just confused.”
“She doesn’t know what to think.” Edward said next.
I stopped staring past her and looked up at her, running over to her and giving her a hug. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was surprised by this, but within a second, she hugged back.
“I’ve spent my whole second life thinking someone had come along because they smelled the blood, and they were just upset that I was already drained. I never pictured being changed out of kindness or empathy.” I finally said, pulling away from her. “Thank you for giving me a second chance at life and giving me a chance to help others.”
“I didn’t expect for you to be so... accepting of it.” She told me.
“I spent years trying to be mad at you, but I realized it was a gift to be able to help others.”
“How would you like to join us tonight? We’d love to get to know you, whether you decide you want to stay or not.” Carlisle offered. I nodded,
“I-I’d like that, a lot, actually.” I told him. “Thank you.”
It was going to be a difficult decision on whether or not I was going to stay with them, but I wasn’t worried about it. I knew I’d have a new family to go back to no matter what decision I made.
