Heartless
By: pottersweetie

Author's Note: This is the second installment of the whole story that is Heartless, all in Rosalie's point of view. Thanks for checking it out- especially those of you who stuck with me through the first part! I hope you all like it. Enjoy, Read, Review!

Part Two
Entering Night

Chapter One
Burning Alive
April 20, 1934 - April 21, 1934

I had thought I was dying- really, truly slipping from this world- because what else could have possibly explained the fact that I was flying through the air at such a frighteningly impossible speed? And the pain was so intense throughout my body that I didn't even really register the fact that someone- Dr. Cullen, I forgot- was holding me in his arms. All I knew was the stinging cold and the pain- the pain that Royce and his friends had inflicted upon me in hopes of making a point about their positions of control- in hopes of ending my life- and it filled up all of my brain. It filled all of me with a horror that consumed every inch of my consciousness- so much so that it pulled me in and out of delirium.

But, I then realized, if I'm dying, why isn't the pain going away- why won't the hurt and shame and all the feelings of blackness and despair just leave?

I cried out in the darkness then, my eyes shut tight against the blurred world speeding past me.

"Please," a deep, soothing and worried voice said. "I'm going to help you- I'm going to try my hardest to help you."

I couldn't really focus on his words though, and their meaning was lost within the unfolding chaos of my brain. And then I was aware that the world was slowing down, that I was suddenly inside again, and the world was bright and warm around me. Relief didn't come with this realization though, because my body was still throbbing, shaking violently from shock and exhaustion and pain, and I allowed myself to slip into semi-unconsciousness.

How long that unconsciousness lasted, I'm not certain. It could have been seconds or minutes, or even hours. All I knew during that time was the strange pieces of my world that floated in and out of my brain- images and ideas that I had no control in conjuring. I thought of Lewis Carroll's Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, of rainy days and pools of silk and lace. I thought of Warren, Vera's cousin and the first boy I ever liked- my first kiss- and I thought of his murder in the streets of New York. In a detached way, I thought of my wedding dress, of how beautiful and ethereal I looked in it- like an angel. I envisioned boxes and boxes of beautiful custom-made shoes- of fur stoles and silken gloves in pastel colors. I saw flowers and sunshine and a white house atop a hill in the mountains- summer houses in Italy and penthouses in Paris. And I found myself slipping away even further- the pain dulling and my mind growing still as the images vanished, my heart no longer thumping erratically, but pumping in slow, stuttering beats.

I was grateful that things were growing darker- so relieved to be away from the pain and the shame. But then, just when I thought I was finally dying, something sharp was cutting at my throat and my wrists, and it jolted me back into consciousness.

My eyes snapped open and I saw Dr. Cullen hovering over me, and I screamed, thinking he had only taken me from the street to inflict even more pain on me.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice choked by emotion upon witnessing my reaction. "I'm so sorry."

I wanted to move- to get up, to get away from this man who had also hurt me, fight against this turn of events, twist away from what was happening- but my body was exhausted and in so much pain, that all I could do was writhe on my back, powerless.

And then, a strange warmth was spreading from my neck, wrists, and ankles, spreading up and down and around, fighting away the bitter chill that had clenched by body only moments before. But it wasn't a comfortable warmth- not like immersing yourself in a hot bath on a winter's night, or slipping under a quilt in the dark- this warmth had an underlying bite to it, and I barely recognized the fact that I was squirming around- twisting my torso as much as my wounded body would allow, trying to get away from it.

"Please," Dr. Cullen said, his voice echoing in the recesses of my preoccupied brain. "I'm sorry."

I groaned against the growing malevolence of the warmth, feeling as if my already-raw throat was tearing open with the guttural noise.

"I'm so sorry," the voice said again, as I absently felt ropes being looped around my wrists and ankles, pinning them down, and then another around my waist.

But those ropes entered very little into my brain, because at that moment, I suddenly felt the warmth heating up- growing, growing, worsening, burning- until it felt like liquid fire was being pumped through my veins. It felt like being sliced through with flames from the inside, out, and I screamed in agony and terror- wishing for any kind of pain Royce thought he could afflict on me, instead of whatever this was. Then the heat sieged its way to the base of my body, burning through organs and tissue, until it got to my heart, sending it into an angry gallop in my chest. I fought against my binds, wanting to be free so I could claw at my chest and rip out my own heart- such was my ferocity against this pain. But I was held too tightly, the ropes twisting against flesh as I pulled and fought and cried.

"NO!" I screamed, the word finally working its way up my throat. "PLEASE! STOP!"

That phantom voice again, said, "Forgive me."

My eyes flew open and everything was tinged red, and I looked around me with wild, unbridled eyes. I was in some kind of bedroom, and standing beside me still, was Dr. Cullen. Though my brain couldn't really acknowledge who he was or why this was happening, I saw him as a possibility. He could stop this pain even if he had also created it.

As I fought against the ropes around me- trying to just get away- I screamed at him, begging, "KILL ME! Just kill me, please!"

His face took on a pained look and he shook his head at me sadly, quietly saying, "I can't."

"PLEASE!" I cried, hot tears streaming out of my eyes. "Please- Oh, God! It hurts- Please!"

Looking as if he couldn't stand to watch me another minute, he covered his mouth and turned from me, taking a few strides across the room, before turning back to watch me from a longer distance.

Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I opened them again and pinned him down with an imploring look. "Please," my voice sounded pitiful as I spoke- from screaming so much- but I couldn't change that. "I'm begging of you."

Slowly, he approached me again, and then knelt down beside me, taking my hand and unclenching the fist I had made, his palm cool and sympathetic against my own hot skin.

"I won't kill you," he said to me, and I just barely heard him above the raggedness of my own breathing. "But I won't leave you either."

I bit back the urge to scream as the heat rose within me- scorching my insides like a spark let loose in a field of dead leaves.

He ran a cool, sweet hand against my forehead, and said, "I'm begging you for forgiveness."

I couldn't respond- didn't even see him or know him any longer- because, just then, the burning heat reached its peak, my eyes rolled up into the back of my head, and I sank gratefully into unconsciousness.

When I came to again my body was still playing host to the searing fire, and I wasn't sure how much time had passed since I had fallen into the cool darkness of being unaware. I didn't open my eyes- didn't want to see the world tinged in that horrible red again- so I wasn't sure if it was still dark out, or if the sun had risen on my nightmare. Regardless of time or space, I gasped and choked and screamed again- unable to find any other reaction to this blind pain. It was horrifying- how hot the inside of my body could possibly be- and I felt as if it was only getting worse.

"I'm here," the calm, soothing voice of Dr. Cullen said- and I could still feel his cool hand in my own, hardly reacting as I squeezed and squeezed. "You're okay."

"I'm not!" I screamed, forgetting composure- forgetting right and wrong and disapproval. "Everything- Everything burns!"

Another hand brushed the hair from my face, and he said, "I know, but it won't be for long- I promise the burning will end."

I fought against my restraints, but it did me no good- neither did screaming, so I finally shut up and lay there, paralyzed by phantom flames, tears slipping out of my closed eyes without permission.

"I want to explain this to you," he said, his voice finding its strength. "I want you to understand what's happening."

Furiously- dismissively- I shook my head.

I didn't want to understand what was happening to me. I just wanted it to end.

"What is happening to you right now isn't necessarily a bad thing," he said, and were I not in agony, I would have laughed at this. "It's a transformation of sorts, and whether it's good or bad.... Well, that's up to you."

Though I was still shaking violently in pain and heat, I grasped what he was saying- I didn't understand it, but my brain took hold of it anyway.

Dr. Cullen sighed the slightest bit as I felt the heat ebbing away almost infinitesimally- only to peak once again, I was sure.

After a beat, he said, "I know it's hard to believe, but this burning is venom working its way through your blood stream- it's becoming a part of you and changing you." I sucked in a breath at this, because the word 'venom' brought on all kinds of frightening images. "The venom comes from my own body- it was the only way I knew to save you."

The fire rose brutally, and I screwed my face up. All I could process was pain- plain, red-hot pain- but some part of my brain wanted to work out what this doctor had just said.

I was burning because of venom- venom from his body? What kind of person had venom in their body? No kind of person, I knew. So how was this possible? Had I misheard him? Was Dr. Cullen out of his mind? The odds were supporting him though, because I felt the burning of this liquid-fire, and I knew it couldn't possibly be from any man-made product. This pain was inhuman. Surreal. Beyond comprehension or acceptance.

"The truth, Miss Hale, is that I'm a vampire- that's where the venom comes from."

I tried twisting away from him- my eyes shut against his face and the room around us- but it was no good.

He continued quickly, saying, "I know it's impossible to believe, but it's the truth. And after the venom has worked its way through your body- when the burning stops- you will be a vampire as well."

I stopped listening to him then. Too many unthinkable things had happened to me in succession, and I wouldn't accept this piece of information as well. The real things, the tangible things that I knew to be brutally real- Royce's betrayal, the way he had beaten me and robbed me, the way he allowed his friends to descend on me like lust-filled dogs- I knew that had happened. The certainty of death, of leaving Vera and my family and everything I had taken for granted- I had known that and felt it and yearned for it to replace the humiliation and pain of lying in the street. Those things were real. They felt like lifetimes ago, but I knew they had happened- were too painful to pretend away. And this pain- this feeling that I was burning alive from the inside- I knew that was real too. But vampires? Mythical, bloodsucking creatures? No. I would not accept that. I would not allow that to factor into the turn of events as well.

So I didn't listen to Dr. Cullen. Instead, I listened to the pain- to the sound of my blood galloping in my brain and rushing through my ears. I focused on lying still- not fighting my restraints or squirming and thrashing away like my instincts told me. And it was easy, because the pain was so all-encompassing that giving into it was more natural than breathing.

I don't know how much time passed, but I remember that I was thinking in broken thoughts amidst the blistering burn, when I peeled my eyes open and stared around the room again, clenching my whole face against pain and fury.

Dr. Cullen was still sitting beside me, his hands around one of my own, and I was faintly aware of the fact that sunlight was peeking through the slats in an outside shutter.

It wasn't ending. The pain wasn't ending, and a lethal panic rose in me as I imagined this eternal agony- an existence made up of a burning I couldn't even understand. And I screamed again- screamed in anger and frustration and fear and absolute hatred.

And Dr. Cullen apologized. With every scream that left my body, he apologized.

"Carlisle?"

The new voice that entered the room when it was dark again was female- warm and kind and concerned- and it drew closer.

A gasp.

"Carlisle- What- What happened?"

The voice I had come to know very well replied, "I found her- on my way home from work." His voice was sad and regretful as he spoke. "I smelled the blood and I couldn't- I couldn't just leave her there."

"We got held back by a couple of hunting parties, and then by the time we got to the edge of town the sun was up and we didn't want to risk being seen," the woman said. "If we had known...."

Dr. Cullen said, "It's all right."

"Did you really turn her?" another voice- a young male's voice, petulant- demanded. "My God, Carlisle."

I snapped my eyes open and searched out the two unfamiliar faces. I didn't care that I had seen them in town before- that they were the elusive Cullens. All I saw was possible relief again. And, since Dr. Cullen wouldn't relieve me, I figured I could ask them.

My voice was raspy as I croaked, "Please!" trying to keep myself under control- even with the searing pain of Hell running through my body. "Please kill me- Please!"

"Oh, dear," the woman whispered, running careful fingers over my cheek. "You'll be okay."

"Please," I wheezed. "I just want to die- it hurts so much."

The young man, again, said, "My God...."

"Esme," Carlisle said, "could you please clean her up and get rid of the tattered clothes?"

"Of course," the woman said, and then she left my side and exited the room.

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth together. It did me no good to scream, but it was so hard to endure the pain- mind-blowingly difficult to not go insane from the intensity of it.

My voice was barely above a whisper when I said, "Please- Why are you doing this to me?"

There was no answer, and I swallowed painfully, sobs tightening my throat and chest.

Within moments, I was faintly aware of the woman- Esme- working over me, washing my filthy, bloodied body with a cool washcloth I could barely feel, easing me out of my ripped blouse and skirt, tidying up my hair. And while she worked- because I couldn't bear to scream so futilely anymore- I listened to the conversation unfolding around me.

"Carlisle, wasn't there another alternative?" the young man asked. "I mean- come on, Rosalie Hale?"

He said my name as if it was synonymous with leprosy, and it managed to annoy me- even through my pain.

Quietly, the other man said, "I couldn't just let her die there- it was too horrible, too terrible."

There were footsteps, quickly pacing the room.

"I couldn't leave her," the deep voice said, still close by me.

The woman- who was still working over me- reassured him, saying, "Of course you couldn't."

"People die all the time," the young man said, and it made the burning within me that much worse- that I could have died, but this was happening instead. "You could have let her die, Carlisle."

"Edward!" Esme scolded.

He tried to amend his words by saying, "It's just that- It's Rosalie Hale! She's nothing if not recognizable. And the Kings will have to put up a huge search for her- not that anyone will suspect the bastard that did it."

"Edward?" Esme said, pausing in her work of redressing me through my restraints.

"You know who is responsible," Dr. Cullen said, and he posed it as a statement rather than a question.

Through what sounded like clenched teeth, Edward said, "Royce. King."

Esme gasped.

"You're certain?"

"Yes," Edward replied, and I managed to find some satisfaction in the fact that he knew who was responsible for my injuries. "It was Royce and his friends."

Carlisle solemnly said, "I suspected as much."

Esme spoke softly to me, saying, "You poor thing."

"Please kill me," I whispered.

"Rosalie Hale," Edward said to himself, as if he couldn't believe it.

Carlisle scolded him, simply saying, "Edward."

There was a long stretch of silence, and I thought maybe my fingertips didn't feel so painfully hot anymore. But I wasn't sure.

Breaking the heavy quietness, Edward disgustedly said, "What are we supposed to do with her once she's changed?"

Esme was no longer working over me, and I was suddenly aware that I could focus on other things outside of the pain. The conversation, for instance, and the purple light outside of the room- the promise of another sunrise- and the heat fading from my fingertips.

"The choice will be up to her," Dr. Cullen said. "Maybe she'll stay with us. Perhaps she'll want to lead her own life."

Whether I was actually being transformed into a vampire or not, I knew I couldn't go back to my life. There would be questions, and questions needed answers- answers people would expect me to have. I didn't have answers. I had horrible stories that I never wanted anyone to know. I had wretched feelings that I could never share- not with my parents, not even with Vera- because I didn't want to poison them with the cruelty of it. And, of course, I could have lies. I could tell them all that I was kidnapped by some criminals who had mistaken me for some kind of heiress, and then subsequently let me go. I could save my and Royce's reputations, and those of his friends, and I could sweep it all under the rug. I could go back to my life and smile and pretend like nothing had ever happened.

Except, I knew this couldn't happen. Royce and his friends had thought I was dead. If I showed up and they saw that I wasn't- perfectly intact, if not burning inside- the world would fall apart. Besides, I didn't want to lie and defend their reputations. I wanted them to suffer and endure the horrors I had endured and was still enduring.

So where would I go? What would I do?

I knew only one thing. I didn't want to be alone.

Author's Note: It took me awhile to get this up because I had a difficult time writing it at first, I also had a lot of other things I had to update, and I'm back at school. On top of that, I'm in the process of applying to college, which is tremendously time-consuming and annoying. So thanks for bearing with me. I hope everyone enjoys the second installment of Heartless, thanks for reading!