Twilight AU: The Hunter

In the dark alleys of San Francisco, shadowy figures moved swiftly, unseen by the ordinary eye. Dark, demonic creatures cackled mockingly, while the tormented cries of lost souls echoed in the depths below, pleading for aid that would never arrive. On the rooftops of the city, three imposing figures stood, their faces shrouded in shadows, the moonlight spilling behind them, bestowing an air of otherworldly authority.

As the moonlight illuminated their features, the young man on the right was revealed. His skin was as pale as alabaster, his blood-red eyes piercing the night, with striking blonde hair framing his face.

To the left, another man emerged. His skin bore a slight tanner hue, yet he remained ghostly transparent in appearance, with long brown hair cascading past his shoulders his red eyes gazed the city in curiosity.

In the center stood a man who confidently lowered his hood, grinning at the sprawling city below. His jet-black hair fell to the back of his neck, and he, like the others was pale, and donned robes of black and red.

They were the Volturi—an unrivaled vampire coven that governed the underworld of vampires and supernatural beings from the shadows. They imposed order within their realm, ensuring that humanity remained blissfully ignorant of their existence, even as some human organizations relentlessly pursued their kind and other monstrous beings.

Aro, surveying the chaotic bustle of the highway, spotted a motorcycle tearing through traffic at reckless speeds. On it was a woman they had relentlessly hunted for weeks.

"Felix," he commanded, his voice smooth yet sharp with authority. "Follow her. She will lead us to the last remnants of these vermin. Take some men with you and return with a full report when your task is complete."

With a firm nod, Felix leaped from the building, his companions swiftly following suit. Aro smiled, his gaze fixed on the night sky, fully aware of the oblivious chatter of humans beneath him.

He sensed the dark forces converging around them; something monumental was on the horizon, and he was prepared to seize it.

————

MC POV

After dinner, Marcus and I dove into a game of Pac-Man that he borrowed from a friend for the summer. I wasn't familiar with the game, and his laughter got on my nerves.

"Come on, you suck at this! Just move the joystick," he said, his laughter bouncing off the walls, only fueling my frustration.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I know what I'm doing," I shot back. I narrowly escaped a ghost but then found myself cornered and died.

Determined not to let him relish in my defeat, I handed him the controller. He shot me a cocky smirk as I made my way to the door. Without missing a beat, I turned around with my smirk and said, "So who still owes that 10 dollars?" I defiantly flipped him off, catching him mid-sentence before I slammed the door shut.

As I strode down the hall, I entered my room and pulled my comics from the drawer. Halfway through my reading, a wave of sickness hit me. I headed to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, but nothing came out.

Glancing at the mirror, a headache surged in, intensifying until I found myself on the ground, clutching my head. The pain was overwhelming, rendering me unable to call for help. A deep voice resonated in my mind.

"It's time to wake up, Jordon." The voice was both familiar and foreign, and then flashes of memories that weren't my own invaded my thoughts—a man at a desk with glowing eyes and a wheel and drinks.

Suddenly, everything stopped. I found myself in a dark void, draped in a white robe. "Is anyone there?" I called out, my voice echoing back to me. Turning around, I spotted a man sitting at a desk, his gaze locked onto me—a gaze that felt unsettlingly familiar.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice steady. He remained silent, yet a slow smile crept across his face. "It seems your memories aren't fully back yet, old friend," he stated calmly, his words carrying a weight I couldn't ignore.

I stepped closer to the desk as more memories flooded my mind, a sense of recognition sweeping over me. "I've seen you before—in my dreams. Are you God?"

The man didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his desk, retrieved a small mirror, and slid it across to me. "Talking to you as a kid is strange. Just look into the mirror, and you'll understand."

I picked up the mirror and stared at my reflection. As I looked at my face, I noticed it aging before my eyes. Then, my reflection blinked back at me, grinning. A blinding white light engulfed me, forcing me to roll onto the ground until I lost consciousness.

(Let's be clear: the main character has taken over this body. While both memories coexist, only one individual is truly in control, and he's got it all figured out. The heavenly restriction is in play, but don't be concerned about the worm—I'll reveal him soon enough.)

When I regained consciousness, I found myself back in the plush chair where I had blacked out. There, beside me, was God, casually sipping a margarita.

"So, you're finally awake. About time. I should've given you your memories at the beginning that's my bad honestly." he said, setting down his drink and flashing that trademark smile of his.

"What—uh!" I clutched my head as a sharp pain shot through my brain, and a torrent of memories—none of which belonged to me—flooded my mind.

Birthdays, holidays, siblings—a family and a life that was unmistakably mine. After experiencing all this, I looked up at the god, my eyes brimming with tears. 

"Did you give me all of this?" I demanded as I stood tall, finally embracing the fact that I was just an 8-year-old kid. The god placed a hand firmly on my shoulder. 

"I did indeed gave you all that you saw a life filled with what you wanted most—a family. Consider it a favor for a dear friend. I never imagined I'd have a human friend before." he replied with a smirk.

I wiped my tears away and dug into my memories once more. I had a mom who was a real estate agent and a dad serving in the military. An older sister who was in college but still managed to hang out with me when I was a baby, and an older brother who was a senior in high school. He might have been annoying, but he loved me fiercely and stood up for me against bullies.

When I opened my eyes, the god still wore that infuriating smirk. I turned my face away, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the life I had been given. 

"Thank you for this." I said firmly, swiping his arm off my shoulder.

"Jordon, there's something important I need to tell you." he stated, his voice dropping to a cold, serious tone that shattered the warmth from moments before.

I looked at him, a sense of urgency filling my confusion. "What is it?" His expression darkened, sadness shadowing his features as his mouth twisted into a frown. "Jordon, I need to tell you something important dark forces are at work, and I don't even fully understand what's happening."

"What are you saying about dark forces? Wait Am I like Sam, is the yellow-eyed demon, is going to kill my mom?" I began pacing, my mind racing with possibilities.

Thoughts raced through my head—in the world of Twilight, there shouldn't be a reason for vampires to target me or my family. But in the realm of the supernatural, we were at risk from demons, spirits, and monsters that could want us dead for some prophecy or ritual.

"I'm sorry, Jordon, but even if I knew more, I can't interfere in the mortal realm." His voice carried a cold sadness. I stopped in my tracks, suddenly resolute. Standing tall, I closed the distance between us, asserting my presence despite my smaller frame.

"What the hell do you mean you can't interfere." My words we cold piercing with venom.

God's face didn't change still plastering sadness. I knew he couldn't change what was coming I knew he couldn't stop it.

Falling to my knees I could only suffer in agony for what was to come.

"I'm sorry." His voice was a whisper that was the last thing I heard before a snap woke me up on the bathroom floor.

As I sat there on the floor tears streamed down my cheeks only thing I could utter was "Fuck you."