MORE STORIES! I'm kind of on a story high….Yes, I am crazy! So the plot bunnies invaded my mind with this one… I'm not an avid fan of twilight. Yes, I know. Please don't burn me at the stake for saying this. But it's true. I DO, however, think a crazed, power hungry, Italian, vampire, mafia king is awesome. So awesome I decided to make my own facfic about it. So, no, there will NOT be any Cullens in this. No Edward. And DEFINITELY no Bella. Just Aro, the Volturi, and my own character. Oh, also, DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! Hope you enjoy!
So here you go! The Trespasser
Chapter One: The Mysterious Kidnapping
Bianca Thompson was upset. She had meant to fly to Florence. She had meant to meet her cousin Cassandra there. And she had most certainly NOT meant to be wandering around some Italian city aimlessly, lost, alone, and most definitely pissed.
As she causelessly meandered her way through the narrow streets, she thought to herself that she ought to come up with a plan. Cassandra wouldn't be here to pick her up until the next day, therefore presenting her with the need to find someplace to sleep for the night. The night, Bianca noticed, that was very swiftly closing in on the small town.
There was one problem, however. She had no luggage. No clothes. No phone. And most importantly, no money. Who would be stupid enough to put all of their possession's, wallet and all, into their suitcase? Her, apparently. She started to mutter to herself angrily. She was angry to be lost. Angry to have her luggage be misplaced. Angry that her plane had to land here rather than in Florence because some lady had a heart attack. She knew it was cruel, to be mad at someone for something as helpless as that. But her anger towards the woman was less about the heart attack itself, but about the it being the final breath that sent her house of cards tumbling down.
And so there, in the middle of the cobblestone street, she curled up in a ball and began to cry, angry tears that consisted of hatred of her stupidity, and resentment towards her misfortune.
By the time the sun's golden rays sank over the horizon and winked at the town one final time, she had drenched her hoodie sleeve in a disturbing mixture of snot and tears. As she sniffled, wiped herself off with her other sleeve, and rose from the ground, a sound shattered the calm quiet of the night.
Bianca jumped, dark brown curls bouncing around her face, as she whirled around to face the origin of the sound. As a New Yorker, born and raised, she was used to being on guard of people that could do her harm. People who often struck at night. Her primary precaution against these people was to not be outside at night in the first place, which was unfortunately not an option here.
But rather than a hooded thug, the noise was emitted from a small cat, who had knocked over a trash can in pursuit of food. Bianca released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, and began her exit of the small street, determined to find somewhere safer to spend the night.
This was her primary objective when she found herself in the eerily silent town square. She walked around, every now and then glancing over her shoulder to reassure herself of her safety, and upon her approach of the large double doors that were settled underneath the large clock tower, she raised her eyebrow, gave a shrug, and tried the doors for good measure, just in case they were open.
What she didn't expect was for them to actually creak in defiance, sliding open with some difficulty, as was expected with doors of this magnitude, but no resistance. Bianca blinked. She looked around the square. And in a decision that would change her life (A.N. foreshadowing!) she slipped into the building.
It was dark, lit only by a few candles, which was what she first noticed. Upon further inspection, however, she noted that there was an elevation. An elevator! How peculiar, she thought to herself, and she couldn't help but notice that there was only one direction this elevator went. Downwards.
Perhaps it would be better, she thought to herself, if I took the stairs if I were to explore without getting caught. Why would a girl, and young woman barely at the age of twenty, think it wise to explore a mysterious castle-like structure, left unlocked and open in the night, decide it was by any means safe to wander around the world will never know. But Bianca, for some reason, didn't think to take safety into consideration. She didn't think to stick to her original plan and curl up and sleep for the night.
Instead, she threw open an ancient looking door, and started to make her way down the steps. In the hallway it was dark, dank, and dusty. It seemed almost as if it hadn't been used in years. And as Bianca descended step after step downwards into the darkness, a sudden wave of fear suddenly hit her like a tidal wave.
She felt…unsafe. Vulnerable, even. But as she began to think better of her somewhat rash decision to make her way down into the darkness, she felt a pair of hands suddenly clasp her arms to her sides, startling her so much that she jumped and slipped off of the step she was on, whacking her head on the sold stone in the process.
She didn't know who the cold, strong hands belonged to, or even where they came from so suddenly, and before she got the chance to ask, to explain herself being in the stairwell in the first place, she descended into a state of unconsciousness. And the last thing she recalled was the overwhelming feeling of danger that seemed to emanate from her captor, accompanied by a set of red eyes.
And there you have it. Love it? Hate it? R&R, People! I need feedback if I'm going to continue! Thanks for reading, come again soon!
Livvy
