The Universe's Mixer

For late afternoon, the City was remarkably bright.

Must have to do with the snow. The goddamn snow made Lestat think of France. And wolves. And things he did not want to be thinking about. It made his mood more volatile than normal. And instead of walking around happily in the fading daylight, this made the vampire cling more to the shadows, like characters in the penny dreadful horror novels he'd come to despise so much.

Behind purple glasses, violet eyes narrowed. The zombie fiasco had been fun to watch, but really, the City was wearing on Lestat. He wasn't sure he didn't like his sojourn in Hell better. He'd lost an eye, sure, but he'd come out swinging. And hadn't losing the eye meant all sorts of visits and attention from his kind? The ones he really cared about, at least.

Sigh.

Strings of thoughts filtered in and out of the vampire's mind as he walked down the street and into a music shop. It was darker in there; he could stop this hiding nonsense.

When thoughts of mountain lion's blood wafted toward him from the classical music section, Lestat smiled slowly, a large smile. A predatory smile.

The owner of those thoughts had bronze colored hair and seemed very intent on the music he was searching through. Lestat found him, arched a brow, and tilted his head, looking at the CDs in front of him with his hands behind his back.

"Do you play?" he asked, nodding with his chin toward the disc the lion-eater's hand rested on.

Piano music.

Edward did not need to sleep. The clock in the main hall chimed, reminding him it was 4 AM. He sat on the black leather sofa, staring across his room. Since the date he came out of the debilitating burning of the transformation, he had spent every hour of every day awake. Granted the night hours for him were just as productive as the hours in the day, time itself seemed to pass quicker than he could ever recall when he was human. Muddled were these visions, but Edward remembered the anticipation of the Great War approaching, as well as his 18th birthday which never seemed to want to arrive...and did not arrive. Edward was stricken with the Spanish Influenza and on his deathbed when turned.

Chicago in 1918 was a very different place when compared today. Yet, even if he felt the need to try and reminisce, something else managed to distract his thoughts. The heightened senses his race had helped to distract them from trivial matters, and the book case in his room called to his attention. Taking great care in diversifying and organizing his collection, he studied the titles on their spines, gradually scanning over the now-dried ink which rolled over the bumpy texture most of the books in his collection had. Spanning over eight decades, titles varied greatly. His signed copy of The Old Man and the Sea, a gift that his sister Rosalie thought appropriate, was probably the most valuable book he himself owned. Carlisle was drumming his fingers over his desk while reading up on possible cure for cancer, and Esme hummed as she was scanning her blue prints. Edward tried to always stay out of his family's thoughts, but sometimes it was just unavoidable. Making this task easier today was Jasper and Alice along with Emmett and Rosalie gone hunting into the Cascades. Being the lone vampire for so long had not truly bothered Edward. Poor Esme on the other hand constantly worried about it, regardless of her lack of conversation on the subject.

Edward froze. Decades of practice trying to be a human couldn't undo what came natural for him. Something suddenly didn't seem right. The shift was instant and now the room was different. The belongings in this room were the same, but the dimensions of the room were not. The walls were 2 centimeters taller which netted a subtle difference in how the air in the room traveled. The increase in mental decibels was enormous; suddenly he heard the buzz thousands of voices at once. Never in his entire vampiric life had he even been taken by surprise. It just didn't happen. If he didn't smell or hear the threat making audible noise, his mind always alerted him to their presence. Nothing in the natural animal kingdom could harm him, only supernatural beings which usually possessed language-based thoughts ever posed a threat.

Edward inhaled deeply. The former musky-forest scent was replaced with the smells of a larger city, much more repugnant and smog-laced. Crossing his room to the door, he realized he was in an apartment building rather than the glass-walled house in Forks. There were 6 doors on each side of his own in the hall, making for a total of 13 rooms on his floor. Running down the hall, he scanned the thoughts around him to see if he recognized anyone.

Damn, I'm late for work again!
Should I use the red or the green?
I'm singing in the rain...just singing in the rain...

Nothing. Just your average thoughts from the average human living their average life. It was always the same. Edward would never escape the mediocrity that surrounded him. Never. He bolted down the stairs, a total of 13 floors in mere seconds. Not caring if he revealed himself to others, he scrambled into the street. Jumping over a moving SUV as it came barreling towards him, he landed on the asphalt with his usual light cat-like grace. The driver of a truck in the other lane of traffic honked his horn at Edward even though he was at least 8 inches away. As if I would not just jump over the truck, too. He decided that in order for the drivers to be safe from crashing into himself, who was planted just as securely as any brick building, he leaped onto the sidewalk. He stood still, listening for anyone with ill threats to approach him. Edward was on red alert.

He could read minds. Alice could see the future. Edward doubted Carlisle ever came across someone who could teleport anything, let alone and entire room of belongings and its occupant without disturbing anything, nor being able to do so without alerting Edward's built-in RADAR detector. Edward continued to stand on the sidewalk so he didn't endanger more people's lives, looking like a lost teenager. He did not recognize the location or the thoughts of anyone within several miles. He had been to just about every place on the planet, including some places believed to not exist.

Edward had never wondered about conspiracy theories. Those thoughts were for the mentally unstable or those who felt the need to have a scapegoat for all the world's problem. He was suddenly faced with a serious dilemma. Were the Volturi behind this? Carlisle's coven had been meticulous in their charade. Did a new vampire do this to him? What kind of power was to blame? Edward looked at his reflection in a store front window, staring at his own topaz eyes looking for some sort of logical explanation from within himself. It never came.

For the first time in his own personal history, Edward truly was confused and...scared.