Silent. Dark. Eerie. In the middle of the night, those few hours when both the owl and the lark are asleep and the humans are at last behind the safety of their locked doors an ethereal figure flew silently in the air. It resembled the shadow of a human, transparent, smoky and pale, deathly pale. Passing through the city in this inhumanised form was Tom Riddle, known in the magic world as Lord Voldemort.
He has been in this state for the last 23 years when a teenager rendered him helpless and had torn him out of his own body to live the life of a shadow. Suddenly he felt a gush of wind and bumped into a solid, cold object.
Edward Cullen had decided to hunt alone today. Bella was with Alicia and Jacob was babysitting Nessie. The air had seemed thick and suddenly smelled pungent. Not entirely human but similarly so. Since he had long since stopped being affected by human smell or blood, it did not bother him as he quickly dashed through the woods his legs so fast, it barely touched any ground.
But he could hear thoughts through the mist, and frustrated ones at that. Suddenly he came to a halt at the centre of the shadowy mist and heard a hoarse voice.
“Who are you?” Voldemort hissed.
Cullen was not sure if the shadow had actually spoken or was he hearing the thoughts. It was eerie enough being a vampire, but encountering another human like thinking mist was stretching the realms of fantasy too far.
Edward Cullen. And who and what are you?” Edward asked.
“I am Lord Voldemort” the shadow hissed. By now Voldemort was convinced that if he could use this strong steel like human’s body he could be alive again. Only he had tried it on other humans and animals but in vain.
Edward was not sure if he should stay there. May be he needed the help of Alicia to foresee things and probably also the shield of Bella. But as tried to get past the Voldemort shadow, he was stopped.
“Avada Kedavra” murmured the shadow. Edward was sure the shadow wanted him dead but he was not sure why.
Voldemort was surprised to see his most trusted of spells not working on this man. He grew furious. Hissing loudly he asked again “Who are you? How come you don’t die?”
Cullen laughed “Is that what you were trying to do with your murmurings? Sorry misty, I cannot be killed. You see I’ve been dead for 150 years.”
Voldemort slithered away in fear.