A/N This is NOT a translation, I do not own Twilight or MCU this is purely for entertainment purposes. I use AI as a tool on my text after I have completed the writing of the chapter it helps out with wording, grammar and pacing. So the ideas the direction of the story the dialogue all me.
For donations:
https://gofund.me/bdf5f87d8
-_-
They had toyed with us for the past thirty minutes—letting us run, letting us think we had a chance.
Every time we gained ground, every time the house lights flickered closer through the trees, they reappeared ahead in a blur of impossible speed.
Jen skidded to a stop beside me, legs shaking, chest heaving.
She doubled over for a second, hands on her knees, gasping.
Her hair was in complete shambles—tangled with pine needles and sweat, strands plastered to her face—but her eyes still burned with defiance.
"What the fuck are you people?" she shouted, voice raw and cracking. "What do you want with us?"
It was the nth time she'd asked that night.
Each time louder, angrier, more desperate.
But once again all it met was laughter—cruel, echoing laughter that bounced off the trees like broken glass.
We were deeper in the forest now.
We couldn't tell south from north—every tree looked the same in the dark, and our way back home was completely lost.
It seemed the hunt was coming to an end.
Jen's and my legs ached with fatigue; the adrenaline couldn't keep us going anymore.
The vampires, bored now, slowly approached us—red eyes glowing in the darkness.
"Guess they didn't put up much of a fight in the end," James muttered, disappointed.
Jen, ever the brave one, shoved me behind her—pinning me between a thick tree trunk and her body.
"Back off, you freaks!" she shouted, voice hoarse and cracking.
She brandished the bear-spray canister in her shaking hand—almost empty now, but she held it like a weapon anyway, finger on the trigger.
In a blur of speed, Laurent's hand flashed out.
The canister flew from her grip, clattering uselessly into the underbrush.
A heartbeat later, Victoria was there—shoving Jen hard to the ground in another impossible rush.
Jen hit the moss with a sharp gasp, wind knocked out of her.
Victoria loomed over her, teeth bared, crimson eyes gleaming, lips curling back for the bite.
"No!" I shouted, voice raw and broken from all the running.
I lunged forward—toward Jen—but before I could take two steps, a vice-like grip clamped around my throat.
James.
He slammed me back against the tree trunk, lifting me clean off the ground like I weighed nothing.
My feet dangled, my cast arm flailed uselessly; my good hand clawed at his wrist, but it was like trying to bend steel.
His face was inches from mine, teeth gleaming, ready to strike.
Just as I accepted my fate—James's teeth inches from my throat, Victoria's knee grinding into Jen's stomach—a loud ROAR tore through the night.
Deep.
Primal.
It shook the trees, rattled my bones, stopped everything dead.
The vampires froze mid-motion.
James's grip loosened a fraction on my neck.
Victoria's head snapped toward the sound.
Even Jen stopped struggling beneath her, eyes wide.
Heavy thumping followed—massive, rhythmic, shaking the ground like an earthquake in slow motion.
Closer.
Faster.
Then, in a blur of impossible speed, a colossal figure launched from the darkness above.
It crashed down like a meteor—all displaced wind and shattering force—landing square on Laurent.
The impact was brutal.
Laurent's body offered no resistance.
One second he was standing; the next he was torn apart—limbs scattered, torso crumpled like wet paper, pieces flying in every direction.
No blood, just pale fragments scattering across the moss.
The figure straightened.
It was enormous.
Larger than anything I had ever seen in my life.
Easily ten feet tall, humanoid in rough shape—if you could call it that.
Its chest heaved once, twice, from the lunge.
Green eyes glowed in the dark, bright and feral.
As it roared into the sky—powering up for another strike—the moonlight finally cut through the canopy and lit its face completely.
Green skin stretched tight over massive, corded muscle.
Dark hair, wild and unkempt, framed a furious, human expression twisted into rage.
The Hulk.
James froze, dropping me from his vice grip.
I hit the ground hard, coughing, lungs burning.
Victoria's snarl died in her throat.
For the first time since the chase began, something like caution flickered across their faces.
The Hulk's roar ended in a low, earth-shaking growl.
The heat from his breath was clearly visible as thick fog in the cold night air.
He turned those blazing green eyes on the vampires—then on us.
No recognition.
No mercy.
Without wasting time, I rushed to Jen's side.
She was bleeding—a deep cut on her forehead from Victoria's earlier shove, blood trickling down her temple and into her eye.
She winced, pressing her palm to it, but her legs were still shaking too hard to stand on her own.
James recovered first.
He stared at Laurent's broken remains scattered at the Hulk's feet, then snarled—pure fury twisting his features.
He crouched low, ready to fight, muscles coiled like springs.
But Victoria… Victoria's eyes told a different story.
No rage.
Only clear, unadulterated fear.
Her danger sense—her gift—screamed in overload.
Without thinking, she shoved James hard to the ground.
He hit the dirt just as the Hulk's massive fist whistled through the air where his head had been.
The punch connected with the tree behind him instead—wood exploded in a shower of splinters, the trunk crumbling like paper.
The Hulk grabbed the shattered tree in one huge hand and swung it like a makeshift baseball bat.
The trunk whistled through the air toward Victoria.
She leaped upward with impossible grace, dodging the swing mid-air, then bolted—running deeper into the forest.
James scrambled up and followed, their speed and agility far outpacing the Hulk's raw power.
Seeing them slip out of reach, the Hulk gripped the tree tighter and hurled it like a javelin.
The massive trunk spun end over end.
Victoria twisted her body unnaturally mid-stride, kicking James out of the way at the last second.
The tree slammed into the ground with a deafening rumble, embedding itself deep, roots snapping like twigs.
ROOOAAAR!
The Hulk's roar shook the night—pure frustration.
But the vampires were already gone, swallowed by the darkness.
With nothing left to smash, his blazing green eyes locked onto us.
I was just steadying Jen—trying to pull her up, hoping we could sneak away while the beast was distracted.
No luck.
Those furious orbs met mine.
"Fuck—run! Run!" I shouted, hauling Jen against my side with my good arm.
We didn't get far.
A displacement in the air—then a force greater than the van that had smashed into me last month slammed into my back.
I was airborne.
Trees blurred past.
I crashed through one trunk, splintering it, then hit the ground hard on the other side.
"Beau!" Jen cried, voice hoarse and breaking.
I opened my eyes.
Blood poured down my face, blurring everything in red.
Through the haze, moonlight lit the scene: the massive figure standing over Jen.
She had her arms up in useless defense, terror plain on her dirt-streaked face.
"Fuck! Leave her alone!" I shouted, voice cracking.
The Hulk raised one enormous fist, ready to deliver the finishing blow.
"JENNIFER!"
The name tore out of me—desperate, raw.
Something flickered in the beast's eyes.
Recognition.
The name.
The face.
It knew her.
The Hulk struggled—internal war visible in every twitching muscle.
One arm reached out to crush her; the other fought to hold it back.
ROOOAAAR!
The beast roared as it battled Bruce Banner's will inside.
Jennifer Walters—his cousin.
He recognized her.
But the rage was winning.
Another ROAR—deafening.
Bruce focused everything on his left arm.
With agonizing effort he seized control for a brief moment.
The left hand clamped down on the right fist aimed at Jen—stopping it cold.
The force of the clash sent out a shockwave—air exploding outward, leaves ripping from branches.
For a couple of seconds the Hulk stood frozen, locked in standstill.
Bruce's will pushed back—slowly, painfully—crushing the right arm in the process.
Knuckles cracked.
Bone ground against bone.
But it wasn't enough.
Another RAOR—furious, final.
Bruce Banner vanished again.
In blind anger, the Hulk swatted Jen away with his mangled, bloodied right arm.
The knuckles were already knitting back together, visible healing in the moonlight.
Jen flew like a rag doll—spinning, tumbling through the air—before a tree trunk stopped her cold.
She hit hard, slid down the bark, and landed right next to me.
Unmoving.
Limp.
Dead still.
Tears streamed from my eyes, hot and uncontrollable.
I crawled toward her, good hand shaking, reaching for her face.
"Jen… Jen, please…"
The Hulk roared one last time then leaped away into the night.
Trees cracked under his departure.
The sound faded.
Silence returned, broken only by my ragged sobs.
I cradled Jen against my chest, rocking her limp body, whispering her name like a prayer that refused to die.
Then she twitched.
Once.
Twice.
Her skin started bubbling—unnatural ripples moving under the surface like something alive trying to break free.
I froze, heart slamming against my ribs.
"Jen…?"
The pale white of her skin darkened, shifting to a sickly, mottled green that spread like ink through water.
Her frame jerked violently.
Bones cracked—loud, sickening pops—as her limbs lengthened, shoulders broadened, muscles swelling in impossible surges.
Her torn clothes stretched, then ripped at the seams.
She grew taller, broader, towering even while lying on the ground.
Her fingers thickened, nails darkening, veins bulging under emerald flesh.
Her eyes snapped open.
No more familiar blue.
Bright, neon green.
She was hulking out.
-_-
Beaufort Swan {Pictures}
Jennifer Walters {Pictures}