First and foremost, I want to say that this is my first, non-romance story.. (I have a couple of romance stories but not as much as horror/action... just haven't gotten around to posting them) And I did alot of research for this, instead of just winging it like I usually do. For those of you who are wondering why Edward is kind of OOC, please keep in mind that this was before he meet Bella, and also, this is when he was younger. Second and last, I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.

Last night I had a revelation Somehow I have to make you pay It's all about manipulation And what it takes to get my way I don't believe in soft solutions No one makes a fool of me Without receiving retribution No one hurts me and goes free

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears You'll never be the same, my friend You're walking a line, it's a matter of time You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

I've heard it said, to err is human It's forgiveness that's divine I thought about forgiving you, but I want revenge, I want what's mine I think it's time to settle scores now It's time to set the record straight You'll know it's coming, you won't know how Or when, you'll have to watch and wait

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears You'll never be the same, my friend You're walking a line, it's a matter of time You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

You know, it feels intoxicating To be intimidating It's invigorating To see you shaking

I've got the power to bring you down

You know something, you see it coming, You know I will stop at nothing.

April of 1944, Rochester

Rosalie Hale was standing in front of her full body mirror, gingerly caressing the silk dress the rested nicely on her figure. The the one that was hand sewn for five painstaking months, sent all the way from New York City. Her gaze swept over the perfectly sewn pearls around the cleavage on the tightly fitting bodice, to the folds that began at her waist and fell down slightly past her knees. The dress was a beautiful pearl color that looked stunning against her skin tone... at least when she was human.

Rosalie's thoughts went back to the memory she so desperately clung too, recalling every single detail. How her scalp ached when he ripped the hat out of her golden hair, what a contrast her warm, red blood was against the freezing, white snow, the awful things they did to her. The night when she saw Royce for what he really was... and her humanity ended. Her jaw clenched and her hands tensed, causing the tiny pearl in between her fingers to turn to dust. "Crap," she muttered to herself. Rosalie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying very hard not to snap. No, not now, not in my wedding dress, she thought. No, not now. She needed the dress for a much bigger event. She sat down in front of the vanity Carlisle had bought her and began to brush her already perfect hair, humming an Andrews Sisters song. After humming the song she kept her mind busy by going through every hairstyle she had ever seen or heard of, to keep a certain mind reading menace out. This, of course, brought on a fresh new wave of memories when Carlisle practically flew through the doors and how outraged Edward sounded when he spoke of 'the matter at hand.' He had argued that she would be to recognizable, and since Carlisle agreed, she was now confined to the house. Esme poked her head inside Rosalie's new room when she reached the Audrey Hepburn inspired do'.

"Rosalie? Edward's going out and Carlisle and I have to run to town for some errands. Would you mind being alone until this afternoon?," She asked.

"Of course, Esme."

"Alright then.. Would you like something?"

Rosalie shook her head. All that she wanted was just a couple minutes away, if her plan went well. Esme nodded and looked at her with concern eyes, after seeing what she wore, but just nodded and said nothing. Rosalie was immediately filled with guilt, not for what she was going to do, but for betraying Carlisle and Esme after her promise...

Rosalie was sitting on the bottom steps of the staircase while Carlisle read a book and Esme sketched. Her subconcious picked up her surroundings and all their changes, but her mind was off somewhere else. Still reliving the nightmare that took place not weeks before when somebody slammed the door and pulled her out of her dream-like state.

"Oh, no.." Carlisle sighed.

"Don't worry, Carlisle. Nobody died," Edward practically snarled "Well, at least not at my hands." He jerked his chin towards Rosalie, who just rolled her eyes and shrugged, not one sliver of how she really felt showing on her beautiful face. Carlisle's eyes followed Edwards gesture to Rosalie.

"Rosalie?" He stayed quiet for a while and continued when she didn't answer "If you did then that's fine, of course. I would never force you to do something against your will. If this is the life style that you choose then that's perfectly fi-"

"I didn't drink his blood, okay? I didn't drink any of their blood, not one drop. I swear."

"Then why did you do it?" Carlisle asked gently. Rosalie shot a glance at Edward, and the tight line his mouth was pressed into, she knew that he knew that she didn't kill for fun like he thought at first. And he also knew that she wasn't able to bring herself to admit what she had done.

"She did for revenge." He answered for her. "And I don't blame her. What those monsters did was immoral. It was horrifying. They deserved to die." Both Carlisle and Esme looked at her upond Edward's explanation, and she looked right back.

Carlisle sighed quietly, the purple smudges under his eyes looking blue. "Please just promise me that you won't kill any more innocent people."

"What?! He's not in-"

"Please, just promise me."

She looked down at the floor and quietly promised.

Rosalie continued to brush her hair innocently as she listened to the soft thuds of feet hitting the ground, until they got farther and farther away, and all that remained was their scent. She grabbed her thick locks and wrapped it into a loose coil at the nape of her neck with her new found speed. She swept a piece of hair up and pinned it up neatly with a sapphire broche, then slipped on a pearl necklace she had borrowed from Esme. Finally, she pinned a jewel encrusted flower at her waist. Something old, she thought bitterly. She stood up and swept over her reflection. Everything was perfect, just like she hoped I'd be on her special day. Her one minute hair do looked as though maids worked on it for hours. She smoothed red lip stick over her mouth, the finishing touch. She nodded at herself in approval and opened the window, stepping down and falling two stories, her designer dress ballooning out like a silk parachute. Finally, she landed, careful to absorb the shock into the balls of her feet, so as not to ruin her shoes. A quick check showed that they were perfectly fine. She made her way to town, basking in the pleasure that was sure to come. Relishing at the thought that in just a couple minutes she would have her sweet vengeance. Elated that she would be freeing a girl from the clutches of the deceiver before it was too late. Thinking of the men she had unleashed her wrath upon just days before, the fear in their eyes, the hearts that galloped and the screams that pierced the chilly air. How careful she was about the blood. No, no blood could be shed. The idea of those low life's inside of her made her sick to her stomach. But they were just appetisers for the main course...

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone... they will be forced to deal with pain. - James Arthur Baldwin

The sun was setting early on this night of April when Rosalie got to town. Finding him was easy. Just stop, sniff the air for his overwhelming scent of roses. A twinge of hurt hit her then, the fuzzy memory of her happier days, when her life was happy and innocent, and he seemed like her dream come true. But that's all a memory, she thought, when I was ignorant. She quickly replaced that feeling with a fury that boiled hot in her hollow veins. Hate down to her very core for what this man did to her. He took her life... and threw it carelessly aside like an last weeks news. And because of him, she would never have children or grow old with fond memories to look back at and share with her grandchildren, never to die and have her soul travel to a great unknown, watching everybody she loved grow old and die while she stayed the same. Stuck with this curse that could never be lifted. A monster who lured in innocent people with charm and good looks, who needed human lives to keep it strong. Because of him, she wasn't human. Rosalie ran as a blur so the handful of people prowling the dark streets didn't see her. She ran around to the back door and slipped into her father's bank. Inside was a maze of vaults and stands that would confuse anyone who hadn't spent hours here memorizing every detail. She ran down an aisle without having to think, just using her natural predator's instinct to find his scent. Finally, she came to a stop and peeked around the corner where two burly men each holding a rifle stood lazily in front of a thick, metal door where he was sleeping. She stood on her toes and bolted towards them, too quick for their eyes to follow. Before they could even catch a glimpse of her, they were dead, slumped against a wall with broken necks. She grimaced and reassured herself that they had a quick and painless death, unlike the men before them. Then she was in. It was that easy. A sliver of moonlight peeped through the curtains, making the scene before her black and white. She walked to where he was resting. In a lush, mahogany bed next to a Persian rug. This room was complete luxury. She perched on the side of the bed and looked down at him, stroking his face and trying not to snap his neck right then and there. He murmured and put his hand over hers, still sleeping. "Royce," she purred. "Royce, darling. Wake up. Wake up, Sweetheart." This time he stirred "Vivian?" He asked with a voice heavy with sleep. Vivian. So that was her name. The lawyer's daughter. Not ordinary, but not as beautiful as herself, of course. It made sense, that he would court the next in line. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled... until his eyes focused. His handsome face screwed into an expression of shock and horror. He sat up and scrambled away from her in favor the the corner farthest away.

"What's wrong, Darling? You don't look happy to see me." She said in mock concern and came closer to him.

"You're... You're dead." He whispered, jumping out of bed.

"Yes, I'm dead, in a sense." She trilled and moved behind him, too fast for him to see. "And who do we have that to blame?" She watched as the hair on his neck stood up straight as he spun around to face her, taking steps backwards, until his hands found a candle and fumbled to light it. Rosalie's new vision let her see everything in the dark. She was in front of him, taking the candle out of his hand and smashing it into a ball between her fist. "I don't think so, dear. She whispered

"Guards! Guards?" He swallowed. "What- What do you want?"

"I want you to suffer." She answered without hesitation. "Like you made me suffer." And with this, she grabbed his arm and twisted it as far as it went, careful to stop before it came off and made a bloody mess everywhere. Please just promise me that you won't kill any more innocent people, Carlisle's voice filled her head. He's not innocent, she thought, and went on into a night of ear-piercing screams and revenge as sweet as blood.

An eye for an eye would make the whole world blind. -Mahatma Gandhi