Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. I only own the books. ;)
Prologue
'Something's wrong.'
It was her first conscious thought as pain woke her, forcing her to open her eyes. Feeling sick and groggy, with her head throbbing and a weird taste in her mouth, Bella tried to piece together how she got here—where-ever here was.
Lying on what felt like a cold linoleum floor in pitch-black darkness, she tried to understand the incessant throbbing in her head, the hurt she felt all over, afraid and unable to voice the thick horror welling in her throat, but thinking only seemed to make things worse—seemed the make the room fuzzier, the sounds around her more hollow.
Gagging on the metallic taste in her mouth—'It's blood,' she thought. 'And it belongs to me'—she felt a pin-prickly numbness settling into her bones and panicked as she struggled enough to spur her slow consciousness forward.
Something jabbed her then and she heard what sounded like words, but couldn't understand them. The meaning slipped away after a moment of concern when something pulled at her.
'This isn't right. I'm supposed to be somewhere. With someone special,' Bella was enabled to formulate that thought, but thought no further as she was suddenly jerked upright.
Moaning inaudibly, she nearly vomited as the face of a man moved into her vision, unfamiliar and at the same time, familiar, but she couldn't get her brain to focus; couldn't get her mouth to formulate words. All she felt was brief despair and a rising urge to scream.
'I need help. I need something. Someone.'
She spoke the first name that came to mind, "Edw—"
"Shut up!" She heard the roar of a voice in her ear, followed by a heavy blow to her left temple.
For a moment, Bella felt nothing at all, as if everything were happening in slow motion or to someone else. Then she became aware of a stream of her own blood flowing down her face, into her eyes and mouth. She tried to reach up to touch the wound, but realized in that moment that her hands were harshly bound. Suddenly, terror overwhelmed her; she felt like she was drowning in blood.
"My God," she spluttered, tiny droplets of blood spraying off of her lips in a fine mist. "What have you done to me?"
Through half-opened eyes, Bella saw that her attacker stood stock-still and stared at some object in his hand as if he'd never seen it before.
"Shit, I'm sorry. Oh, shit," his voice sounded detached, zombie-like. "Isabella, I swear, it wasn't supposed to be like this. I–shit!"
"Ho–how do you know my name?" Bella asked shakily. "Do I know you?"
It was as if a flip had been switched as her attacker's face transformed from panicked to malicious. Sneering, he jerked her up like a ventriloquist might jerk his dummy; the gesture was violent, to the point of being obscene.
He began to speak then, in sharp venomous hisses that projected a mist of spit onto Bella's cheek, but she paid no mind because her eyes were suddenly able to clear enough to discern the peculiar shadows that lazily played across the room; Bella finally recognized the trembling form that stood face-to-face with her to which the disturbingly familiar voice belonged.
Even in her dazed state, she could tell that he was a mess. The immaculate clothing that he liked to pride himself on was noticeably dirty and wrinkled, as if he hadn't bothered to change it in several days, and he shook in glaringly violent shudders that ran throughout his entire body.
In the forbiddingly dark room, Bella noticed that the only thing that actually stood out was the milky-white skin of her attacker eerily glowing against the surrounding blackness and the frozen depths of his eyes as they stood out against his pale face—his lovely, pale face that was now twisted into a look of pure malice.
While those two things were initially prominent in the shifting shadows of the room, it was the telltale shine of the barrel of the gun—already stained with a glossy splash of crimson from when he had hit her on the side of her head—that he held pointed at her in one oddly steady hand that made Bella's spine stiffen.
Her thoughts seemed to choke as she suddenly realized where she was, 'But, why? Why am I here?'
She found the beginning and tried to go step by step from there. The last thing she remembered was hearing the doorbell and reaching for the front door. And then suddenly, she knew. She remembered everything. She let out an anguished sob at the truth.
Her attacker tilted his head and smiled, his lips curving into an cruel, empty smirk. She wanted to remember him as he was when she was a child. As a child, it had all seemed so permanent. Her mother, her father, him, her happiness. But, it had all melted away. And now, here she was, as far from that happiness and comfort as it was possible to be.
There was a noise then—from far above her this time. Footsteps. The sound of her name being called frantically. The sound of a door opening. Terror engulfed her body, squeezing air from her lungs. There was a shrill scream then and it was followed by the sound of the trigger being pulled.
A/N: *Waves* Hello, all! This little plot bunny planted itself deep into my head and would not let go until I wrote it out. So, here it is! This is my first foray into Twilight fanfiction and I'd love it if you stuck with me, through to the end.
So...Questions? Concerns? Thoughts in general? I'd love to hear them! Next update will be within two weeks, where you'll get to see everything from the beginning. See you all soon! :)