Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight including characters and likenesses.

Authors Note: Okay so here is the prologue for my story. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review. Chapter 1 will be up as soon as I can get it written. I hope you enjoyed this little teaser :)

PROLOGUE: COLD

I was cold.

It was the middle of August, and the temperature outside was well over a hundred degrees the last time I checked, which was just half an hour ago. It should have been blazing in that small dark room, where the stagnant air was stale as if the one tiny window on the far brick wall hadn't been open in months. Actually, since it looked as if the glass of the window had been glazed over and the sill had been caulked shut it was probably more like years since anyone had even looked at it.

Though my eyes were focused straight ahead, I could feel the heat pulsating off the other numerous bodies hovering around me, watching and analyzing my every move. It did little to warm me. I probably should have been sweating profusely, with pungent perspiration pooling uncomfortably beneath my breasts, under my arms and causing a light sheen to coat my skin. Maybe my heart should have been beating so fiercely and loud that it physically hurt and all of Phoenix could hear it as if it were some sort of primeval battle cry.

But I wasn't—it wasn't

Instead of being flushed pink with warmth, my flesh was as pale and cool as ever—perhaps more so, I wasn't sure—and my heart beat slowly, rhythmically beneath my chest. I rubbed my hands together, trying thaw my frozen fingertips, to put some feeling back into them. It only helped a little. I should have been burning up, but I was so damn cold.

"Just take your time Isabella." A soft voice murmured behind me. "There's no rush okay honey?"

I nodded silently and allowed my eyes to roam the six faces carefully. They couldn't see me, I knew that. The two-way mirror made sure they couldn't see anything but their own reflections. But it felt as if every one of their hard, penetrating gazes was fixed on me. As if they were literally pinning me to where I stood just a few feet away, separated by just two inches of glass.

1…hair is too shaggy

2...skin is too light

3…eyes are too dark

4…

"Bella run, go!"

Confused, I only hesitated for a second. At my dads' pleading command I turned on my heel and raced frantically toward the front door. What was happening? I didn't want to leave my parents behind but I knew I was no good if I somehow ended up dead. At least if I got away from whatever was happening I could get some help. I just hoped I wouldn't be too late. God what if I was too late?

I was halfway down the hall and almost to the door when a muscular arm suddenly snaked around my torso and pulled me back hard against a firm chest. I slammed firmly into whoever had grabbed me, a scream of shock escaping my lips as I tried my best to kick and claw my way out of their reach but it was no contest. Whoever was gripping me was huge—my tiny frame did nothing.

"Oh she isn't going anywhere." A smooth, silky voice said with a manic laugh as I was pulled back into our living room. A rather tall man with long black hair, pale skin and ice-blue eyes now stood next to where my parents sat bound by thick blue rope on our overstuffed sofa. He had one hand on each of my parents' shoulders, a casual gesture that even then I thought to be out of place. "We're going to have a little fun. Right Alec?"

"Yeah." The one who held me mumbled. He let out a dark chuckle as I thrashed harder against him in an attempt to break his tight hold. It didn't do anything but tire me out. "Hmmm…I like this one…she's feisty."

Alec grasped me more forcefully so I was essentially left immobile then slowly moved his large, callused hand greedily up my body until he was roughly groping my left breast. I let out a subdued whimper when he roughly squeezed his fingers and I felt his lips suddenly on the side of my neck.

"Let my daughter go you sick son of a bitch!" My father fought hard against the thick ropes binding him but it was useless. They were too tight. The one with the dark hair and light eyes who I now assumed to be the head of the whole thing, just shook his head while a small grin played on his thin, pink lips.

"I don't think so Philip. Oh no…we're just getting started."

"That's him." I said softly, my gaze unwavering as it burned into the clear blue eyes that were a window to nothing but a soulless evil still haunting my dreams."Number four."

He looked the same as he had on that horrible day last year, when he decided to take everything from me. His glossy dark hair still reached his shoulders, his eyes were still light with madness, and his air was no less commanding even in the common street clothes he was wearing. I wondered if he still smelled liked tobacco and Whiskey? Probably. Those odors still caused me to wretch, even after all time that had passed.

It seemed wrong, that he could be unchanged by that day when there was nothing about me that was the same. I was not the girl who laughed easily at ridiculously lame jokes anymore. I was not the girl someone in her small group of friends called whenever they had a problem they needed to talk through. I was not the girl who loved to add extra chocolate and marshmallows to her coco because otherwise it was too bland. Everything seemed bland now anyway, and it was his fault. It just seemed…wrong.

"You're sure it's him?" A deep male voice suddenly broke into my thoughts. "Be positive Isabella."

I forced my gaze away from the maniac standing just a few, insignificant feet away me and turned to face the small congregation of officers and attorneys. They were silent, watching me, and each of them were tensed like they were waiting for me to do something or say something completely insane. Like they thought I'd try to break my through the glass in some sort of attempt to get to him.

"Do you think I could ever forget the face of the man that killed my parents?" I asked, keeping my voice overly calm and detached. "Yeah I'm sure. Can I go now?"

Regardless of what they all thought, I wasn't going to break down in hysterics. I wasn't going to cry and curl into a little ball in the corner. I wasn't going to scream and throw things because I thought if I could just break something, I wouldn't feel so broken myself. No, I'd done that already.

Now I was just cold.