A/N: This is very different from anything I've ever done. First, it doesn't deal with an original or secondary character. Second, it's dark. Realllll dark. Think this chapter is bad? This is just the beginning. Be warned.

Wonder where I got the inspiration for this? Go and watch 'I spit on your grave'. It's honestly one of the best movies I've ever seen.

Special thanks to my beta Jkane180 and my partner in crime Wordslinger

I checked the mirror one last time, making sure everything was perfect. Of course it was; not a single strand of my golden hair was out of place. In life, I had been beautiful, but in death, I was perfection. If it wasn't for my bright red eyes, I could've been an angel. And that was exactly the look I had tried to accomplish and achieved successfully; an avenging angel.

Mere weeks ago I thought I was dying. I didn't mind; at that point, I welcomed it more than anything. Yet here I was, walking and talking, but no more alive than the rest of the inanimate objects in this room. I had no pulse, no need to breathe. The only thing that kept me going was the unquenchable thirst for revenge.

One week, seven days, seven men. My mission was clear: to hurt them as much as they'd hurt me and then some. They would feel what they'd done to me. They would not escape me; it was impossible now. I'd hunt them down, one by one, saving the best for last. I would be the last thing they'd see. The thing that would be etched in their minds forever before they found the release that was denied to me: death. I almost envied them for it.

"Are you sure about this?"

I didn't need to turn to know that it was Edward who'd spoken. Intrusion of the mind was his gift. Not even my thoughts were my own anymore. It was almost as much of a violation as what those seven monsters had done to me. Behind me, Edward quickly vanished from my room. The way I saw his talent made him uneasy. I knew it wasn't something he could control, but I also couldn't help the way it made me feel. Either way, I didn't need him around for this. He didn't understand; how could he? How could he know what it felt like when people took what was yours without asking for permission? How could he know what it felt like to no longer belong to yourself? How could he know what it was like to look into the mirror and no longer see yourself looking back?

There was nothing left of what had been there before. I'd lost the ability to smile. I'd lost the beauty I once possessed. It didn't matter that I was perfection on the outside; the inside was hollow. There was nothing behind my eyes. It was time to fill the void, to recreate something from the ashes. It was time for vengeance.

Day 1: Kirk.

Young. Rosy cheeks. Sweat on his brow as he watches his friends. His eyes flitting from side to side, fear and excitement alternating in his looks. His pink tongue protruding as he licks his lips while taking in my uncovered body.

Kirk Trenchwood. I hadn't known his name at the time, but I had learned it since. He was only seventeen, the youngest of Royce's friends. I'd seen him around on some occasions, but he was too young for me to really take notice. I didn't even know or understand why Royce allowed him to tag along. I supposed he was something of an errand boy-someone to do their dirty work for them.

He hadn't actively participated in my demise. He stood on the sideline, watching eagerly as the rest of them had their way with me. There was no question in my mind though, had he been only a few years older, he would've been as keen as the rest of them. I'd watched him from the shadows these last few weeks, had seen him trying to approach women. Every time, they turned him down.

Oddly enough, he was always alone. I never saw him with Royce's gang anymore. I briefly wondered why but decided easily that I didn't care. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter to me. It would only make it easier for now.

I stood on the branch of a large tree, peering into his window. Kirk was staggering around his room, drunk from the few beers he'd consumed. I watched as he struggled to undress, falling over as his foot got caught in his pants. The corners of my mouth twitched upwards, trying to get me to smile at the sight. But I couldn't, not yet. Kirk eventually collapsed on his bed, one leg still caught in his pants and his shirt unbuttoned, hanging haphazardly off one shoulder. His mouth was open, drool oozing out as he snored loudly, no doubt dreaming of better nights.

For about an hour, I stood there, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to his moans and grunts as he slept a restless sleep. Then I moved stealthily, jumping from the branch onto the large ledge. My fingers dug into the window frame, the wood splintering in my grasp. The window was ajar, and I carefully opened it further, making sure I made no noise in the process.

With one lithe movement, I found myself standing inside Kirk's room. It smelled of sweat and stale beer. He was on his back now, his arms wide on either side of him. I never took my eyes from his body as I moved around the bed, careful not to make any noise. When I came to his head, I knelt, bringing my face level with his. His breath smelled worse than anything I'd ever smelled before, making me gag a little, but I quickly regained my focus. I didn't even need to try and control my bloodlust; there was nothing appealing about this boy at all.

"Kirk."

My voice came out a whisper, hardly audible, even to me. He continued to snore, undisturbed and unaware that he was so close to death. A giggle escaped my lips and reverberated around the room. He grunted at the noise and rolled over, bringing his nose only inches from mine.

"Ki-hirk," I teased in a sing-song voice, sounding sweet as bells.

His breathing stopped, and his heartbeat sped noticeably; he was awake. His eyelids trembled as he slowly opened them. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but I knew the moment it did because the trembling increased.

"You," he whispered, never moving and never taking his eyes off me.

"Yes, Kirk," I whispered back, letting my sweet breath wash over him.

He swallowed loudly. I could see his Adams apple bob up and down in his throat. For some strange reason, it bothered me. A human gesture that had gone unnoticed while I was alive now had so much more meaning since my death. Without even realizing, I wrapped my hand around his throat and pinned him to the bed. His eyes widened in shock and fear as he tried to pry my hands from him. I watched curiously as he kicked and screamed, the paleness of his complexion quickly turning a bluish grey.

That would be too easy though.

I released him, leaving him gasping for air with his hands around his throat, trying to soothe the pain that the pressure of my grip had caused. I could already see the purple marks that would turn into bruises. He quickly scrambled up the bed, pressing his back against the wall as if wishing to vanish into it.

"This is im…impossible," he stuttered, "You we…were d-dead."

"Oh, I am," I replied, looking him straight in the eyes. "Just not the kind of dead you'd expect."

I circled the bed like a predator circling her prey.

"You like to watch, don't you, Kirk? You watched as they violated my body, and you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"N-no, Ma'am. I'm so s-sorry," he replied, his voice so soft that normal human ears would never have been able to hear it.

"Don't lie to me, Kirk. You watched, and you liked what you saw. You wished it was you doing those things to me, but you knew Royce would never let your inexperienced little dick near me. Isn't that the truth, Kirk?"

He swallowed again, his pulse straining in his throat. I could almost see the blood flowing through his main artery. It didn't awake my thirst; it just made me want to squeeze the life out of him.

"Answer me, Kirk. You wanted me, didn't you? You wanted to touch me; admit it. I won't hold it against you."

I used my sweetest voice, trying to placate him. Slowly, I moved closer to the bed. Kirk watched me, his eyes widening, and tears spilling over. Still, he never answered me.

"Don't be scared, Kirk," I whispered seductively as I crawled up the bed towards his trembling body. "It'll be quick, I promise. I'll make it quick."

He pushed himself against the wall even further, kicking the sheets from the bed as he moved. I edged closer and closer until I was over him.

"I can smell your fear, Kirk. It's very unattractive," I taunted, running my nose along his jaw line. He wheezed and moaned. His body was trembling so violently that I half expected him to go into a seizure.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," he stuttered in a last chance to redeem himself. It didn't work; instead, the corners of my mouth twitched again, trying to form the smile they'd taken from me.

"So am I, Kirk. I'm sorry that this is the closest you'll ever get to a woman. Enjoy it while you can."

"P-please, d-don't hurt me," he begged, causing me to loathe him even more.

"Hurt you? No, Kirk. I never intended to hurt you."

He pushed out a large gust of air mixed with disgusting saliva. I recoiled slightly as I felt it hit my dress.

"Th-thank you, Ma'am," he exclaimed, misunderstanding my words.

"Don't thank me, Kirk. I merely meant I'm not going to make you suffer."

His eyes widened as I grabbed his throat again and lifted his face to mine.

"Such pretty blue eyes you have," I crooned, running two fingers down his eyelids. "Too bad they've seen such filthy things."

I applied the tiniest amount of pressure and could feel my fingers sink into the soft flesh. Kirk's breathing sped up, and his heart nearly beat out of his chest. I pressed harder and watched as my fingers disappeared into his eye sockets. The squishy texture of his eyeballs nearly freaked me out, but I stayed focused. Curling my fingers behind his eyes, I quickly pulled back my hand and watched in wonder as they rolled over the sheets and onto the ground. I never even took in Kirk's terrified screams and never felt the way he wriggled in my grasp in an attempt to free himself.

"You bitch, let me go!"

At these words, I turned my focus back to the thrashing body in my grasp. Where his eyes had once been there were now only black holes, gaping back at me, looking as hollow as I felt. Remembering my promise to not make him suffer, I quickly snapped his neck and lay him down on the bed before stepping back and admiring my work. I stared for a little while, taking in his lifeless form. His mouth was open, and his muscles were relaxed. If it wasn't for the blood that had poured from his eye sockets, staining his cheeks, he could've been sleeping. He looked peaceful. I clenched my fist at the sudden onslaught of envy I felt and had to do my best to bring my focus back to what I was here to do.

Reaching up, I pulled a Bleeding Heart rose from my hair. I grabbed the petals and twisted once, releasing them from the stem. Then I walked towards Kirk's body and carefully sprinkled the petals on and around his body. This was my silent message to the man that had once claimed to love me. I wanted him to know I was coming for him.

o-O-o

"Are you okay?"

Edward's voice was tentative, as if he was afraid of what I would do if he came too close.

"I will be," I replied as I zipped up the garment bag that held my wedding dress. There were only a few bloodstains on it-not too bad for my first murder.

"So you're really going through with this?" he asked, hardly audible, his tone full of amazement.

I turned to face him, my fists clenched and my jaw set as I replied with more certainty than ever.

"One down…six to go."