Right. To those of you who may have Favorited me know that i have in the past written maybe a few chapters then deleted the whole story. Sorry about that. But i promise this is a fresh start and this is a new story that i have actually gotten into.

This story reflects my dark mind and gives an insight to what i think the shadowy parts life have to offer. I Hope you enjoy and please review and tell me what you think :)

congrats Stephanie Meyer on creating such wonderful characters that i love messing the minds of :) No credit on my part just the plot.

And also, Give me ideas for where the story might lead. I have already written the next few chapters, however your ideas mean alot to me and i am alway up for tweaking the scene :) Thanks xxx

Trains start somewhere.

Fuck. I've missed the 2-21 train. Damn Mike. Damn my work. How on earth am I going to get home now? Its 9:30 and the next train don't go for another hour.

The Station is silent apart from the echo coming from my 6 inch heels as I walk across the platform. That and the shuffling of the last remaining people exiting the station, getting back to their homes and families. Nothing is worse than being stuck in a train station that smells only of piss and an assortment of various drugs. How fun.

I place my cherry red bag down onto the old wooden bench and search for the magazine I put in their for when Mike actually gives me a break. Let's just say I haven't exactly had time to read it yet. I skip through the pages, not really paying attention to anything that's been written down. Working Tuesday night were really rather dull. This magazine is probably the most exciting thing to have happened to me all damn day.

Something is distracting me.

I just can't get into the all too thrilling stories of a celebrity who went on the new bender.

Someone is distracting me.

I look up from the magazine to see a man. Reflecting my current position on the other side of the tracks. It's hard to tell what he looks like in the dim flickering lights of the lamp post a couple feet away. Under the gloom I can see him dressed in black slacks with a white button down shirt, a couple of buttons undone from the top, revealing a small dust of dark hair sprouting his chest. A hat sits on his head, resting on his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Shielding him from me. He doesn't exactly look like a bum. Not in the slightest. His built body is an obvious tattle tale sign that he is completely healthy and rather buff. I Look at my watch and see that I only have 30 minutes till the next train turns up. When I look back up, he is no longer there.

Probably scared him off with my obsessive ogling. Back to the magazine. I Flick through the pages at a slower rate. Trying to learn something new about the world I will never be accustomed to. Footsteps from behind gather my attention. I Carry on reading. Or trying to. When I feel the bench dip as new weight is added.

I glance left to see no other than Mr. Mystery man himself. Hunched back with his hands fisted into balls on his forehead and his Elbows resting on the ends of his knees. His Leg rapidly bounces up and down, vibrating the bench along with it. As if in anticipation or aggravation. I am still unable to see his face to find out which. The shudders of the bench suddenly stop and I am beginning to miss the comfort of it. I turn sideways to glance at him again and am shocked to see piercing blue eyes boring into my own. His hat now on his lap, I can see his dark rustic curls that frame his angular jawline. Plump lips thinned into a line in an unreadable expression. Sort of like he is confused. The wrinkle on his forehead begs me to place my thumb upon them to smoothen them out.

"Hi, I'm Emmet. Emmet Cullen" He says in a Deep voice as he offers a hand for me to grasp. I Hesitantly take his hand and shake.

"Hi. I-Isabella. Isabella swan" I stutter out. He looks down again nervously. Wanting to say something but looks as if he can't seem to get it out. "Can I help you with anything?" I Ask kindly, my smile meeting my eyes for the first time in weeks.

"Um, I was wondering if you could tell me when the next train out is?" He asked looking anywere but at my eyes.

"In 20 minutes or so I think, where are you heading?"

"Just out of here" he looks up and I see something in his eyes. Sadness. He looks up at the night sky and a thousand scenarios run through my mind about what could have happened to him. He couldn't be much older than me. I mean I'm 21. He looks older, but in his current state, he could easily have lost 10 years to his complexions.

I Place my hand gently onto his Bulging arm, "what happened?" He looks back into my eyes and we lock gazes for a minute or two before I break the connection and look down at the deep cracks and chewing gum marking the stations platform.

"Long version or short?" When I look up to reply I can see a cheeky grin begin to form at the corners of his lips. Lips which until this point have hidden perfectly straight canines. His dentist was good. Him with his boyish features could definitely pull of the 'brace face' Look. Maybe blue tracks to emphasis the piercing aqua of his eyes. His cough brings me out of my mind trip and back to reality. His perfectly shaped brow arches in question. Damn. What was the question…?

"Seems as you're my only company for a while. I'll take the long" I try to smile encouragingly. But I am sure it comes out more as a grimace.

Sad eyes gaze into mine as he goes into detail about his life of horror and tragedy. Murder clean on his hands. On the hands of those who snatched him from his innocent live previously.

I should be scared. I should be running down the deserted tracks to the police. To somewhere were I am not secluded. But I can't. There is an indescribably pull to him that I can't explain. A need to stay and comfort his saddened soul. A Million stories flash past his eyes as his mouth moves releasing a honey like voice laced with anguish. He paused and I Reach over and place a comforting hand on his knee, convincing him to carry on with his tale.

"So he took me in. Murdered my mum in cold blood then took me and raised me as his own. I owe him my life. I owe him everything. He is my master. He asks me to jump. I say 'How high'" He looked down onto my hand on his knee and places his own rough palm against mine.

"Which is why I am sorry" A lone tear rolls down his cheek. "I have to do this."

He grasps my hand within his, Trapping me. Helpless. He pulls a rag out of his pocket and holds it to my mouth. Muffling my screams. Terror coursed through me.

What a turn of events. A couple of hours ago, I was serving drunken ass holes trying to get with me at a bar. Now I can feel my defenseless body being slung up and over. Everything is blurring together. Clear shapes become vague colors as I can feel my head lolling side to side.

Move. Move! I try to will myself to kick. To scream. To get away. I can feel my eyes start to drift. Slower and slower. My body still incapable of moving on its own command.

I hear a the muffled voice of a man. An apology.

"Please forgive me"

Then black.

Tell me what you think. Next chapter: 17th July 2013 xxx