Prologue

I walked home in silence, admiring how the moonlight made the trees seem like they were dancing between the streetlamps. The dark of the night played around me, but I didn't jump at the shadows, my teenage angst gone, swept away with my graduation cap when I let it go in a gust of wind. Was that only a month ago? Was it really only one month ago that I was out partying with my friends, having fun, illegally celebrating our last days as high school students? How had I disconnected with the world so quickly?

I shook away the thought and pulled my jacket closer around me, shivering against the suddenly very cold air. I relished in the thought of getting back to my new apartment, all mine, and curling up with a book that I've read fifty more times than what the book binding can handle. I felt strong, despite my sullenness toward social gatherings and friends, and independent, almost. Invincible.

I reached my apartment building and pushed through the extremely large and heavy doors, briskly walking toward the elevators. I didn't make eye contact with anybody. I didn't try to seem friendly.

The elevator nosily brought me up to my floor as I clutched my keys tightly in my hand. The atmosphere of the building felt…off tonight. It felt icy and dangerous. And honestly, I just wanted to sleep – not that I ever really slept to begin with. I'd curl up in my covers, close my eyes, and listen to the silence. I didn't sleep – and wake up tomorrow all better.

I didn't bother turning on my lights when I pushed my door open – I was so sure as to what the angle was from door to table, from table to hallway. My bedroom was the second door on the right, with a stainless steel doorknob that sparkled slightly in the darkness and an old poster of Linkin Park barely clinging to the wood with weak tape. I strolled serenely across my bedroom, eyes nearly shut and threw my jacket to my left, so it landed lightly on my dresser. I almost smiled at the memory of how I managed to get such an expensive article of clothing – Alice Brandon, my best friend up until a month ago, bought it for me from a way overpriced boutique in Paris. Why, I didn't know.

I collapsed with a sigh on my bed, staring at the ceiling in the peaceful silence. I kicked off my shoes and slowly let my eyes close all the way.

Except, I wasn't alone.

I heard the breathing first. Shallow, like it was forced, but not like someone was dying. I gasped and snapped up, my gaze automatically going to my mirror that hung opposite my bed. I saw my own terrified expression, a wild look in my eyes, before I saw the thick shadow that was just to the left of me, with eyes of twisted crimson. I screamed, jumping off of my bed and blindly stumbling for the light switch.

The lamp snapped on and brightness pooled my tiny bedroom, illuminating the intruder, sitting silently on my bed with a cruel smile. I couldn't help but stare for a moment – he was beautiful. Tall, lean, muscular, with perfect facial features and soft, honey-colored hair. His red eyes looked out of place on his God-like face, but I couldn't make myself move to call the police. Not on someone like this. I couldn't even make myself talk. Fear gripped every muscle in my body. Adrenaline sizzled through my veins.

Then, he talked. "Lock your front door, you idiot," he said maliciously, flashing a row of dazzling, lethal teeth. Sharp, dazzling, lethal teeth.

I gaped at him, uncomprehending. I did lock my door! I wouldn't be stupid enough to not just leave it open…I blinked, letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Quickly, I glanced at his hands – he was holding nothing, which hopefully meant he didn't have a weapon. That was a good thing, right?

"You made this too easy, Isabella Swan," his voice was like sugar. Musical, but with a slight Southern accent.

"How…what…who are you?" I finally managed with a shaking voice.

He stood up, so inhumanly graceful that it almost hurt to watch, and walked over to me. I couldn't hold in my gasp. My fingers were still glued to the light switch, trembling. I was plastered to the wall, right where he would want me to be…to kill me. An easy target.

"Jasper Whitlock. It's a pleasure," he held out his hand. I merely stared at it, petrified. He sighed and let his hand fall down to his side. Jasper's red eyes sparkled with hunger.

"What do you want? Money?" Tears were streaming down my face. Jasper only laughed brilliantly.

"It's not money I want, Bella." He smiled again, showing his teeth. They were so deadly looking…

I shook my head in an unspoken plea. I knew self-defense. I could run to the kitchen and grab a knife. But for some reason, I felt as if that wouldn't be enough to kill off Jasper Whitlock. Not when, by the looks of it, he planned on killing me using his razor-sharp teeth.

He took a step closer to me, and I robotically took a step backward, stumbling through my open bedroom door and falling onto the ground behind me with a painful thud. I looked up through my tears to the face of my killer.

"No, it's not money I want. It's you."

XXX

Based off of the song "Parameters", by Ani DiFranco. I have the first chapter of this written, but, quite honestly, I don't feel like editing and posting it right now. I also don't have an actual plot for this fic. Haha. I'm so horrible at pre-writing. Review if you want me to continue. :) I have over six hours of dance everyday this week, and at least three of those hours are on pointe. Dancers, you understand my pain, right? Good feedback will help me get through the week. :D