Friend Of The Dead

Death Shall Have No Dominion

Perhaps I should start from the beginning, where it's most comprehensible.

It was terrifying.

That deep, carnal, clawing emotion of humanity that had failed to ignite in me ever since my transformation reared its head the day we stood in the clearing, tense bodies like marble statues poised for war, awaiting an army that would either make victors of us or ashes.

I was ready, this I knew deep in my guts. I was ready for the destruction, the demonic speed and agility; I was ready for the bloodlust and anger. I was ready for it all, but what I didn't realize was that I felt it---fear.

But was it fear for me? It's been so long since I felt anything similar that I didn't realize who I was afraid for, myself, my sister, or my mentor. Everything I had planned for was in motion. The deal with Sam had been made swiftly, my clues were left for Tony to figure out and I had vengeance on my mind. I was ready for the trigger, the moment I would take off after her and destroy her. But he was on my mind, as he always was.

We regrouped at dawn, after having spent the entirety of yesterday hunting and satiating our thirst whilst Edward and Bella hiked up the mountain and survived the storm. The cheerfulness of our hunting trip evaporated from the air as we made our way to the cleared field. Navigating through the shrubbery was a difficult task---for me in particular. Her scent was everywhere. My idiot of a sister had spread her scent, smeared her blood on tree-bark and wrapped strands of her hair around branches in a futile attempt to be helpful, since Jasper told her it would drive the newborns crazy. I suppose they forgot that I too am a newborn. They underestimated my self-control. My throat was turned to sandpaper the minute I smelled her blood.

The previous night was burned into my memory. His sketches, the ones that did him no justice in my eyes, his heartbeat, his scent. . .I remembered every detail, every nick and scar across his body, every insignificant movement. It was fascinating; he was fascinating, and human. So human. The distance between us was further solidified by his mortality and my indestructibility.

It was a strange turn of events, in our relationship I was always the weaker one, constantly on medication, in hospitals, recovering from broken bones and wounds, and through it all, I'd relied on Dorian and his lack of vulnerability to such things. He had been my rock and comfort, and now, he was human, and humans were prone to accidents, which means there was always a ten-per cent-chance that he was in grave danger, or involved in some kind of accident.

I tried not to think of this as I stood with the Cullens, tried not let it distract me. Instead, I went over everything in his room that indicated to his search of me.

The hospital sign-in sheet might be the biggest clue, with my name and signature printed on it several times. It didn't take long for me to figure out why he got it. No doubt Odette mentioned my visiting, relaying the lie about us being childhood friends. Dorian would know that's not true. I couldn't be sure whether he told Odette that it's a lie or not, but he would definitely go to the hospital to get the sheet.

Next, the poetry verse.

Death shall have no dominion.

Dylan Thomas, one of my favourites. Bella had chosen that for my headstone as a leeway for the truth. Death didn't have dominion over me, not anymore. Dorian didn't know of my love for the poet, I don't think I'd ever mentioned it. So why would it be on his bulletin board, and how could he have known about it?

Simple, he's seen my grave.

So he knows that Sophie Swan is dead.

I don't know what I expected to feel. That was one part I felt empty towards. Perhaps it'll hit me sometime later, when I'm not preparing for battle.