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Karma's Muse	By : xXxDaydreamJunkiexXx Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 5882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own, profit, or pretend to originate True Blood or its characters. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball.

Chapter List
- 1-Karma's Muse
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 9
- 10
- 11
It's a funny thing being dead.
You wait your whole life, literally, for it to happen; only to find it's nothing you were told or could ever expect it to be. You forget the endless everyday worries that one is at a constant mercy to. You cease to be hindered or concerned with objects or things; the weight of humanity and its burden of survival. You are completely free and uninhibited, finally allowed to just be…
How can such a word really mean the end when it isn't that at all? It doesn't hurt half as much as you would think, and actually there is a peaceful calm unlike anything felt before; just still existing is such a relief; who really cares about anything else?
Alana for the first time stood outside of her body, looking down on it, laying there among the wreckage littering the grass by the overpass; blood and dirt covering her face and limbs, eyes open to the sky, staring blankly, devoid of life; yet still jade and cat like. She never realized just how small she was…how fragile.
A boy was near her body but away from it at the same time. He was very angry and upset; Alana wished there was some way she could help him, but was still too confused as to how she had gotten here.
Two vehicles were deformed, one overturned and smaller than the other; the smoke, crushed metal, broken glass, and debris; having vomited all over the patch of highway by the hill post impact.
The boy was out of his mind and had killed the two other young men; the older one having fled while the boy was occupied with her body- before…why couldn't she remember?
He had ripped and torn body parts like a spoiled child in a tantrum; tearing out organs, decapitating one man's head, while the begging sobs of the other to be spared had echoed into the stillness; only to be silenced by the boy's teeth; having bitten out the offending voice box and spitting it out onto the road like a watermelon seed.
She should have been appalled by his behavior but felt somehow he was just sad; so all she could conjure was pity for the poor boy and continued to evaluate her body, not feeling rushed or having a care for time in the least.
Her attention was back to her form; she wondered what she should do now, it was obvious she wasn't walking away. Besides, where would she go if she could?
Alana briefly considered asking the boy, but hearing his gut wrenching roars and seeing his bloody tears now dripping all over her face; as he had approached her body yet again, dropping down on his knees beside her; scooping her in his arms like she was made of spun glass.
She didn't think this might be a good time to interrupt-but wanted to know so badly; why was he so upset about her being dead…did she know him?
Looking at him now, holding what was now merely a shell, appearing so utterly broken and in despair; Alana admired him for being so handsome, and thought she was lucky if she did know him-for he was beautiful.
A bright light interrupted her reverie; thoroughly distracting Alana from what, to her, was like a perfect scene from Romeo and Juliet.
Four shadows emerged from it; briefly blocking some of the blinding beams, in a way that had her walking away from her body and the crying boy, to see this anomaly and discover its cause.
She made several steps closer as they were materializing to be clearer but found she was stuck; something was preventing her from moving forward, pulling at her navel almost painfully.
Alana looked down and noticed a silver lighted cord she'd overlooked in her initial confusion. It was pulsing and connected to the other girl in the boy's arms, in the exact same spot. She was apparently chained; stuck to the other her, and confused even more than before-what exactly was going on here?
"Alana…" One of the figures called to her. "It's not time yet cuddle-bug."
How did it know the nickname her mother used to call her? She squinted and strained against her glowing shackle; keeping her tethered by the belly button.
"We are with you always Baby…but we can't be together with you right now. There are forces at work that include you…A destiny…You have to go back…He needs you."
She felt frantic now with realization-she had to get to them, she loved them, she mourned them…they were her family.
"Someday we will be reunited…but not today…Go Back…"
The figures had begun to fade back into the light and she screamed. "NOOO- wait for me. Please Mama…Daddy…Nathan…Erin…WAIT!"
Only one fading word could be heard as the light swallowed up on itself once more; leaving her desperate and alone in the darkness.
"…Patience…"

Alana slammed back into her body; her solar plexus having reeled her in with such force, she thought she'd been punched in the diaphragm. She sputtered, wheezed, and coughed up something metallic; reaching up toward Godric's face, smearing the blood there, in her feeble attempts to get his attention.
"Godric." She croaked out. Her arm felt like it weighed a ton and kept flopping back down; her efforts increasing as Godric had his head down, tucked to his chest. "God-Godric…"
Alana couldn't feel anything below her waist, but every nerve ending above it; was raw and coursing, it's many messages of intense pain rushing to her brain with severity. She continued to clumsily slap at his chest and face, trying to gain his notice, and quickly losing whatever strength her little body still possessed.
Godric was lost in his torment. The heart that had manifested itself to live once more; that moments before had beat strongly in the body of a mere human girl, outside of himself; had slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve-it was now taken from him.
He had thoroughly checked her over and found she was devoid of all necessary components that qualify being alive. She had no pulse and her skin; that was usually soft, warm, and pliant, was stiff and cold beneath his touch. Her beautiful eyes openly stared, fixed into the nothingness, and empty. No breath to make her chest rise and fall-she was dead.
The blood he had tried to give her had been too little too late. In having to fight off the religious fanatics and their petty attempts with silver, guns, and even a stake throwing crossbow; had taken him from her side for only a moment, but that was all it had taken for her to pass away-he would never forgive himself.
Godric vaguely felt something hitting at him and thought her sweet husky voice was calling his name. He must be spiraling even further into madness for that would mean…
Another smack at his face brought his head to snap up in attention; she was moving and speaking-She Was Alive!
"Min lilla fresterska!"
"Took you long enough…" Alana wheezed. "I- Godric, I hurt- so much pain…legs numb."
Godric wasted no time and bit into his wrist to give her more of his blood now that she was able to benefit. Her suckles made his spirit soar- she was alive.
Sirens followed by flashing red and blue lights could be heard and seen in the distance, and despite her vocal protests; Godric gingerly removed his arm from her mouth so he could fly them away to the safety of his nest.
He was so happy and overjoyed that she was still with him that the fury of how she had been hurt to begin with; was placed to a back burner of his mind, set to a slow simmer. He would be seeking vengeance but now was not the time; he had to heal what was HIS and ensure her survival first and foremost.
Godric held her so tightly that she was gasping for air.
"Can't…breathe…" Alana whimpered out.
He reluctantly loosed his hold, not wanting to let her go in the slightest for fear she would leave him again; but understood her need for air.
"Hold on for me Alana…please…" Godric didn't even try to hide his worry from his voice, and flew faster; than he thought he ever had before.
Alana was weaving in and out of conscious alertness and the last thing she saw was Godric landing in the back yard of his home. The last thing she heard was him tell her he loved her.
Fading into the blackness was a mercy. If for no other reason than to not have to feel this torture that was her body at the moment or the hot searing pain. She held onto his declaration; her only comfort, and just drifted off.

Godric didn't just stroll into the house, he stormed; rushing through the glass doors and entering the dining area, off the kitchen; to sweep the mahogany table clean with a free hand, and ever so gently lay Alana on its surface.
Stan was fixing himself a True Blood as a snack, popping it into the microwave, while making a call for a human donor on his cell; having heard the commotion, he ended the call with a snap, and went to investigate what was underfoot; he blurred into the room. He could sense the frantic cloud of energy in the air; his fangs protracted in anticipation of an attack. What he found instead shocked him.
"Sherriff?"
Godric didn't tear his gaze from Alana but addressed his underling's puzzlement with urgency. His short clipped tones barking commands like a four star General.
"Collect Isobel now, I am to make a Child this night and need help to prepare."
Godric was rapidly realizing that something was still not right. Alana wasn't healing like she should be and that meant only one thing; turn her now or have her die; the latter was not happening if he had anything to do about it.
"What?" Stan was in disbelief. "What happened to her?"
"The Fellowship happened," Godric spat, "GO NOW."
To Stan's credit, who for the most part was nothing better than any thick headed bigot where humans were concerned; became offended and extremely enraged himself that his Sherriff's human had been attacked.
He tugged on his gold big buckled horseshoe, adjusting the belt up while grabbing his white ten gallon hat; placing it on his head swiftly, exiting the room now to find and bring Isobel back to Godric; with the haste of being truly pissed off fueling his mission.
Those mother fuckers were gonna pay, he thought to himself, having found renewed respect for his Sherriff. The other night while receiving an ass whipping like he hadn't had since he was a newborn, had changed his view on his superior rather quickly.
He had mistakenly thought Godric weak and all neutered, but not no more; Shit, who'd have thought a piece of tail could give an Ancient back his bloodlust.
Well, whatever it was, he was grateful to the green eyed vixen, and wasn't gonna let Little Miss go down like this- no sir.
He reached Isobel's room and instead of knocking; swung his one and half inch heeled dark brown shit kicking boot, over and over again in rapid procession; slamming the bottom of the door-scuffing it all to hell…Oh she was going to be livid!
He laughed to himself a minute-him and Belle had an ongoing sibling rivalry of sorts, he just loved to get her goat.
Sure enough the door swung open to a very angry Latina lady, muttering under her breath in Spanish; before barking out to Stan, her brown eyes like liquid chocolate and swirling with annoyance.
"Why can't you EVER knock? I just had the door repainted last week."
Something in Stan's demeanor stopped her rant short. Instead of that nasty smirk he always wore when trying to purposely screw with her; there was a serious set to his mouth, and no verbal witty comeback, as was usual for the idiot. Isobel knew something was amiss.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"It's that girl of the Sherriff's, she's hurt bad, and Godric sent me to get you. He wants to turn her-" Stan spoke low, noticing Hugo on the bed behind Isobel; straining to hear what was going on. He couldn't finger it exactly, but didn't like nor trust Belle's blood bag boyfriend. Who was he kidding- he fucking hated him.
Isobel put her hand to her chest and gasped, silently saying 'Dios Mio', and then making the sign of the cross; some habits of her human life hadn't ever truly left her.
"Where are they?" She immediately asked.
"Dining room, she's laid out on the table and from what I could estimate, she don't have much time- c'mon." He already had turned his back to her, rushing to Godric and Little Miss; hoping they wouldn't be too late, knowing Belle would be right on his heels.
His grin was genuine when he noticed her smaller strides matching his longer ones down the hallway. Belle was his secret sweetheart and despite what she may think of him; deep down he loved the shit out of her. But unfortunately they only ever brought the worst out in the other. Oh well…guess some things just weren't meant.
"How did she get injured?" Isobel inquired while they moved.
"Fucking Fellowship," Stan growled. "I hope Godric will listen to me now…they have to be made an example of. This is just the beginning Belle, mark my words…"
She actually internally smiled at the slip of a nickname Stan had made. He only did it when he was too preoccupied or upset with something or someone; but every time he did, for some strange reason-it made her feel special and close to him…that is until he usually did something or said something else shortly after to make her wish he trip in a stake. He was quiet though and to her surprise; seemed genuinely concerned for- who?
The human…no, it couldn't be.
They rounded the corner and both were taken unawares by what they beheld.
Their Sherriff was being held by guards of the King; silver laced shackles were around his neck, arms, and ankles; Felipe himself was smiling serenely, completely happy with himself and gloating.
Alana was ashen and unmoving as unconscious, but still alive somewhat; her heartbeat was weak and irregular, but still there. Isobel and Stan wasted no time having received a silent command from their Sherriff, his blue eyes pleading…'Save her.'
Before any guard could intervene, Stan and Isobel grabbed Alana from the table and ran out with her into the night; having fled by way of the front door, which had been stupidly overlooked in arrogance; being left open.
"Well Godric, it would seem you have loyal subordinates." Felipe purred. "I guess your little pet just might live after all…but still," He tsk-tsk'd in a mocking fashion, "Even one such as you has to account for your actions."
"I will end you for this." Godric's rage was barely contained in the otherwise calmly made statement; the kind of thing spoken with the air of a promise, and not merely a threat.
Felipe laughed harshly. "We shall see…"
Neither vampire was aware of a certain human eavesdropping around the corner, as both were too intent on their little pissing contest. But Hugo was there, sweating with anticipation; who knew what types of information he might be able to get out of this sudden development. He had his ears open and his cell-phone ready to make a call to Mr. Newlin. Godric and that stupid girl of his weren't supposed to be alive.
Hugo's anger seethed underneath his skin, making it crawl; his thoughts murderous and hateful. All he had wanted was to be with Isobel forever and she had refused him! She had told him she didn't love him enough to turn him and their 'arrangement' was never meant to be permanent.
And now…insult to fucking injury. That bitch, barely being in the nest three days now… gets the gift of immortality!
Well, we will just see about that, he thought to himself, visualizing various ways the fellowship would torture and put an end to them all. They would die in every sense of the word- he would make sure of it.
Hugo silently padded his footsteps back to Isobel's room; nobody in the next room registered his movements, as shouts could be heard from the two high ranking vamps; both having lost their patience and composure. He crept in and shut the door-hitting the speed dial; chomping at the bit to give an update…Take that you heartless cunt!
The phone was ringing to make the call, sealing the deal; he barely heard it in his ear, as a vision of Isobel came into the forefront of his mind.
The dress she wore the first night they'd met, a red Versace backless number that had made her seem like an Incan Princess. The way her aristocratic features looked so beautiful when un composed in rapture of their lovemaking. The nights spent reading by the fire and having philosophical debates over history, humanity, and life in general.
The way he could make her laugh…
A tear escaped his eye, in which he quickly brushed away; the other end had picked up- it was time to shine.
"Fellowship of the Sun, may His heavenly light shine on you… this is Steve."
"Yes, Mr. Newlin, it's Hugo," He whispered out in a rush, "You'll never believe what just happened…"
- 9
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- 11
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Karma's Muse