A Twilight fanfiction novel - SheeWolf85

through the sliding glass door as she ate dinner. She looked sad. He wished she would smile. After
she went to bed that night and her light turned off, he made a silent promise to return after they’d
made a plan, then he left.
~*~
The moon shone brightly in the forest. A man in a uniform trudged through the trees holding a
flashlight and cursing softly to himself when he nearly lost his footing. Renesmee walked behind
him, trying to catch up. She ran awkwardly, tripping over everything from rocks to roots to her own
feet.
“Grandpa, wait,” she said breathlessly. “You’re too fast.”
Soon they came to a small clearing, no larger than five paces wide. He stopped and shined the
flashlight around. Renesmee finally reached him and put her hand on his arm. He smiled down at
her and patted her fingers.
“Don’t you worry, Squirt; you’re safe with me.”
She didn’t feel safe. The woods all around them were misty with an ethereal, moonlit glow that
made them seem threatening and ominous. She looked around nervously and licked her lips. “I’m
scared.”
He nodded. “You don’t need to be. I know these woods like the back of my hand.” He took a step
away, into the clearing. “I’ll show you that you don’t—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a white blur flew through the trees and plowed straight into him.
Renesmee screamed when he landed on the forest floor, a human-looking figure hunched over him.
It was so white it glowed in the moonlight. When it looked up, it had glowing red eyes and dark blood
dripping from its chin. She screamed again and tried to get to her grandfather. He lay on the ground
writhing in pain. His face was contorted in a silent cry. His throat had been ripped open.
In the distance, she heard two wolves howl. The creature made a terrible sound like a gurgling hiss
and lunged at her.
Renesmee sat up straight in bed, sweating and panting. She wiped her brow and took a few
moments to calm down. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It wasn’t even one o’clock yet.
She sighed and shook her head at herself. Her throat was dry, so she swung her legs over the side
of the bed to get up and get a drink.
A movement in the corner of the room by her dresser caught her attention. It was faint, barely even
a whisper, but still all she could think about was the red eyes and bloody chin from her dream. Her
heart began to pound again as fear twisted in her gut.
“Who’s there?” she asked. She leaned forward on the bed to concentrate on the darkness.
The sudden movement of a shadowy figure dashing to the window made her jump and let out a
squeak. The figure stopped at the window. Renesmee stared with wide eyes at a man in a black
robe. The soft moonlight reflected off the ashen skin of his face. His white hair looked stringy and
stopped just past his shoulders. He turned to look at her. Her eyes widened at the sight of his—
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