WHAT AM I DOING I'm so sorry for this. XD I should be working on Predator Turned Prey, but I had this idea for a three (or more) part story. Of course, I accidentally put in a bunch of details I shouldn't have and DAMMIT JOURNEY, LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! It was originally gonna be a one-shot but OOPS I started going crazy on the details and now the plot keeps developing. SHIT-DAMMIT, now I've got another story to write. THe sad thing is that I still have like two more stories in mind that I want to work on, too. I NEED TO STOP. HELP ME.

Part One

"But mother-"

"But nothing!" Mother snapped at Lucy as quietly as she could. Fascinated murmurs drowned out their teensy spat as they moved through the stone halls.

It was these halls that gave her this sick feeling. This wrong feeling. Mother trained her from a young to just ignore the feelings she got. Lucy was normal, Mother insisted, and just had anxiety. Mother told her to just stop thinking about it and it would go away.

But it never went away. And it was always right. Always.

You see, Lucy would sometimes get these feelings that something was wrong. A bad feeling. A gut feeling. She always did as Mother said, though, and tried to be normal. However, she always felt guilt when someone was hurt; When a girl slipped and spilled her food tray all over herself in the cafeteria just last week, when that boy from 8th grade got hit by a car on the way home, when Lucy herself ignored the bad feeling she had toward a hill and broke her shin tumbling down it three years ago.

She could've prevented all those things had she told them- and herself- to be careful.

Right now, she was feeling a wave of monumental bad, too big to be ignored even with the encouragement of her mother right next to her. She felt the urge to scream at everyone to run, to flee, to go anywhere but here! But it was her mother's hard grip on her forearm that prevented her from doing so.

It will be fine.

It's just anxiety over nothing.

Mother knows best.

Just be normal.

So Lucy continued on, uncomfortably, as a desperate feeling clawed its way up her chest. She tried distracting herself by observing the artful sculptures and paintings along the walls. The old castle must have been owned by an art collector.

Oh no, was she going to break something expensive and plunge her family into debt just to pay off a priceless artifact that she ruined? No.

It was just a thought, She hummed the tune to herself, just a thought, just a thought, just a thought…

Mother recognized the tune and seemed pleased that her daughter was controlling herself.

The gorgeous woman leading them around stopped in front of a pair of huge double doors. She asked for them to wait in an antechamber (which was much too small for a group their size) before entering the supposedly grand room before them.

Danger seemed to sing- no, scream- from that door before them. Lucy had difficulty finding distractions in the small space. The walls were bare here, with just a couple of urns next to some occupied benches along the wall. It was bland and boring, so Lucy focused on the sea of people around her. She observed the patterns on their outfits and the brands of their shoes and the way their hair was done and oh god oh god oh god something was going to happen and it was going to be all her fault because she didn't warn anyone all her fault she could stop this she could stop this!

A hard squeeze on her arm was like mental slap in the face. Mother would have just said it was claustrophobia, and maybe it was. Just claustrophobia. But what if it wasn't? Weren't her feelings always right?

No, no. It just seems that way. If you're looking for something bad to happen of course you'll eventually find something, Lucy. There's no way it's related to you it's okay it's okay…

No, it's not okay! What if I'm right?!

"Mother..." Lucy begged, feeling sick.

"Hush, here comes the tour guide." Mother shushed and shook Lucy's arm lightly.

"Suivez-moi!" Their beautiful tour guide beamed.

Lucy didn't know what that meant, but she did know that it was French. Most of their tour group was French. She supposed it meant that it was okay to go inside the big room because all the others were filing inside, now.

She was in the middle of the group and had time to admire her surroundings. It was truly beautiful in this room. There was a set of rounded stairs near the far end of the room, leading to a raised platform. A dais, she remembered it was called. The ceiling was high and dome shaped, with a skylight at the top. This illuminated the entire room with natural light, a welcome sight after having the only light source (strangely) be torches and lanterns. The refreshing light did nothing to assuage her fears, though. If anything, she felt worse being inside this room.

It's nothing, it's nothing! Don't disappoint mother.

Everyone was soon inside and the doors were closed behind them.

No escape, no escape-! Stop it.

A handsome man with long, black hair flanked by two equally pretty bright blond and dark brunette men captured everyone's attention as they strode gracefully into the room from another door. She noticed that there were other people in the room, too. They weren't part of the tour group, she was sure, because they mostly wore dark clothes and hung around the walls. There were a few others whose clothes didn't fit the dark regime, but she didn't recognize them.

She was sucked out her analysis by the black-haired man. He clapped his hands once, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, before saying, "Bienvenue á Volterra!"

Lucy didn't know what that meant, either, and didn't have a second to ponder it before all hell broke loose. People around her were being ripped away and slaughtered before her very eyes.

Why?

The pressure on her arm was abruptly gone as Mother was whisked away by a man wearing a green plaid shirt. He bit violently into her neck as he stared into Lucy's eyes. His eyes told her, 'You're next.'

No, she decided.

She finally let her feelings guide her. Backing away fast from the man in plaid, she was suddenly weaving through the chaotic crowd.

Like a leaf in the wind.

Master Tenzin would be proud of her.

She soon found herself in front of the short set of stairs that led to the dais. From there she stood, tense, and watched for any danger.

Move, her instincts screamed a moment too late.

She jerked to the side, but a hand caught her sleeve with blinding speed. It was the blacked-haired man.

Lucy screamed and kicked at him as he tugged her to him. One freezing cold hand gripped her clothed upper arm while his other reached around to the back her head. He wound his fingers into her hair and jerked her head to the side.

Then he stopped and stared at her, as if processing something. All the fight went out of Lucy as he stared into her grey-green eyes.

Like sea glass, people would tell her.

His were red, though, and slowly fading to black. A smear of blood was smudged down his chin and she was sure that hers would soon add to it.

She stared at his bloodied mouth and her lips quivered.

She was going to die. She was right. She could have stopped this. She could have saved everyone. She could have saved her mother. She could have saved herself. She could have stopped this.

The man's lips quirked up as he studied her, as if he thought she was amusing somehow.

"Aro, terminez boisson!" The blond male snapped at him.

The raven-haired man snapped back, "Non! Elle est une fille spéciale!" and drew her to him, as if she were important.

A tiny sob escaped Lucy's mouth before she could stop it.

She was going to die she was going to die she was going to die she's so stupid it's all her fault.

"Shh, it's alright." The man soothed and pressed his lips to her forehead. Lucy was certain that his bloody lips stained her skin.

The blond man just growled and ran, extremely fast, out of the room. Her captor took a few sweeping glances at the dying chaos that was going on before he lifted Lucy off her feet and rushed out, too.

Lucy screeched and writhed and flailed, but it did no good. His grip was unbreakable. He led her to a room with a luxurious couch and that was all she noticed about it. She was too busy screaming and crying for him to let her go. Even though her gift no longer sensed any danger, she was still filled with adrenaline and fear.

She screamed to go home. She screamed for her mother. She screamed for death. She screamed and screamed and screamed until she longer made sense.

All the while, the man simply held her to him like iron and whispered comforting things.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You'll be alright."

"I won't hurt you."

"I'm sorry."

And so on.

She eventually grew tired and stopped yelling. Now she just slumped against him, shaking as he stroked her hair.

"Is she done?" A disgusted voice asked from behind the couch.

Lucy jolted and whimpered, not realizing someone else was in there.

"Hush, Caius. Allow the girl to cry. She needs to mourn."

"You call that crying? She was shrieking, Aro!" Caius had moved to the side of the couch, where Lucy could see him. He was the blond man.

She didn't recognize his voice from before because of his French accent. His new English accent sounded perfect and pleasing, but the fury on his face ignited a new sense of fear. Soon, she was panicking again. Lucy was afraid that if she screamed, it would just anger him more, so she buried her face in Aro's shoulder and sobbed.

"Ugh, not again. Can't she snivel some other time?!"

"Enough, Caius. Don't yell. She's very frightened."

"She'll ruin your suit-"

"I said, enough." Aro hissed.

"Fine." Caius sniffed and disappeared from view. Lucy assumed he sat down in a chair because there was a slight scrape from behind them.

As Lucy's sobs died down, there was an unexpected high keening sound. She would have leaped ten feet in the air if it wasn't for Aro holding her down.

"I didn't mean to startle you." Aro chuckled at her start.

She realized that he whistled. A moment after his apology, a man in a grey cloak walked in and asked what was needed.

"Send in Chelsea, please." Aro asked.

The man bowed slightly and was suddenly gone. He was there one moment, and the next the door was closed with a 'thunk'. With that speed, she was sure it should have slammed.

Why were they so fast? Why were their eyes red? Why did they kill people? Why didn't Aro just kill her now? Why, why, why?!

The door opened again very suddenly and Lucy let out a cry at the unexpected movement. In the doorway stood another man, this one she recognized. He was the brunette that walked alongside Caius and Aro. He just stood there for a moment looking into her wide eyes, before strolling inside as if this happened regularly.

Did this happen regularly? Did they just spare random people to fuck with their minds? Shoot! She said a bad word! Her mother would be so disappointed with her. Her ghost was probably shaking her head at her right then. She failed her mother. She failed everyone. She could have saved her mother. She could have pulled her out of the plaid man's grasp and led her safety. She didn't even try. She should have tried. She failed. She was awful. She was a bad daughter.

Lucy's crying and whimpering drew a sigh from the third man who walked in recently.

"Should I ask about the human?" He said with an uninterested tone. His voice was deep and there was something about it, something melancholy, that sent chills through her.

"Aro's found a new fascination with it. I say he should turn her now if he finds her so useful."

"Might I remind of you of Jane, dear Caius?" Aro supplied.

"This girl isn't nearly as young as she was."

"I didn't mean age. I meant that her mental state affected her gift. It would have been different if she hadn't been through a traumatic event before the change."

"I suppose, but I don't see this one burning to death before us."

"Someone very close to her was killed recently." The brunette supplied as if he was just noting a bird outside the window.

"Precisely, Marcus." Aro grinned smugly at Caius.

Caius inhaled and was about to retort, but a woman walked in and interrupted him. He snarled at her as she entered. The woman didn't acknowledge it and simply smiled at Aro.

"Ah, sweet Charmion!" He released his death-grip on Lucy and rose to greet the woman.

Aro embraced her warmly and Charmion laughed at the affection. She had golden blonde waves that barely touched her shoulders.

"Chelsea now, don't you remember?" She giggled.

"Oh, of course! How neglectful of me. I swear I called you that before you came in."

Lucy wondered how Aro could mix up his wife's name. She also wondered how these monsters could have such a jovial conversation after brutally murdering a bunch of innocent people.

"You've left a mess on your face from the feeding. What would the French coven think?" Chelsea chided and handed him a handkerchief.

"I have? Oh, how embarrassing!" He wiped the smear of blood off his face with perfect accuracy, so Lucy supposed that he probably knew and just didn't bother with it.

"Who might this be." Chelsea peered around Aro to get a look at Lucy.

"This is Lucy." Aro strode back to his frightened prisoner.

Lucy cringed back into the sofa as he sat down next to her, again trapping her in an uncomfortable grip. She would surely have bruises later.

"She will make a promising addition to our coven, and I would so love for her to trust me some day." He sighed and smoothed Lucy's hair back fondly.

She turned and glared at him sharply, anger suddenly bubbling up within her.

'Maybe I could trust you if you wouldn't have brutally murdered a group of innocent people, you vile creature!' Lucy wanted to shout.

It was as if Aro could sense her intention. He raised a a daring eyebrow at her angry expression. She was afraid of how he would react and simply slumped next to him, fuming in defeat. Aro grinned in triumph.

"I will try my best to make her feel more at home, here." Chelsea smiled gently at Lucy.

Lucy stared daggers at her, too. But soon her expression softened, and she just looked away.

"Thank you, Chelsea." A small smile slithered onto Aro's lips as he observed the silent exchange between the girls, "You may go about your business for now. I know you wish to be with Afton," Aro winked (Wait, was she not his wife?), "and have someone bring Corin in, won't you?"

"Thank you, Aro. I shall." Chelsea smiled before sauntering out of the room.

Marcus growled under his breath as soon as Chelsea left. Lucy guessed he didn't like her.

Aro spent the next few minutes fussing over her light brown hair. He smoothed it down and ran his fingers through it. This was largely unnecessary because Lucy brushed her hair just before the tour.

"What fine hair, and it will be so much more fine in a few days." He gushed as if he was her father or something.

It felt so strange to have him groom her like this when he could have killed her back in that room. She didn't fight it, though. She felt too tired to fight anymore, too hopelessly trapped. What good would fighting do?

I have most of part two written rn. I don't know when I'll post it. Probably soon, probably not. Idk. The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

Also, Marcus didn't growl because he hated Chelsea, he growled because he hated Corin. Chelsea left to go get Corin (and then smooch on Afton) so Marcus was a little upset about the idea of having her in the same room as him. Why? Because when Didyme, Marcus' wife, died, he refused to have Corin's gift used on him. It might be because it was an insult to Didyme's similar gift. She had the ability to make people around her extremely happy, and Corin just makes people feel content with their situation. It also has a drug-like side effect to it, though. Didyme's might've too because of how desolate and apathetic Marcus became after he had prolonged exposure to her and then she was suddenly dead.