I think I've waited long enough to post the second chapter. I had been hoping for at least ONE review for the new version of ATR but, alas, it was in vain. I was also waiting for a validation beta to get back to me on the first chapter before I posted this one, but they haven't yet so I figured, why not? Amber and I have five chapters written so far and we're working on chapter six also. To anyone whose read this story, we appreciate your time and we hope you'll continue to stick with us. We're hoping that you'll give us some feed back and let us know what you think of ATR:OP so far. We'll accept criticism as long as it's constructive. Please no flames. Without further ado, A Twisted Reality: One Perspective...


A Twisted Reality: One Perspective

Written By: Cullenbabe1231 & McGeek

Words: 1457 words

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter 2

"Shh! What was that?" Whitney whispered.

Crap it's a bear! I know it's a bear or a mountain lion or some shit like that. It's gonna eat me! I don't wanna die!

"What's what?" I asked in what I prayed was a tone that showed I had no clue what she was talking about while inside I was really freaking out big time. I kept scanning the forest surrounding me looking everywhere for whatever had Whitney as paranoid as a schizophrenic a week off his meds.

"You don't feel that?" she asked looking at me like I was the one who was talking like a mental patient.

I stopped searching the forest for the Blair Witch and asked her what she was talking about because by that time I was seriously beginning to think she'd been electrocuted when we passed through the transporter or that she'd hit her head on some rock hard enough to make her lose her mind. Out of nowhere I started feeling like I was being watched. I tried convincing myself it was because Whitney had started talking crazy and it got me acting like I'd smoked some chronic.

She pulled her hand out of mine and began walking toward the transporter. I knew she was running probability analysis algorithms through her mind to try and figure out how we had gotten wherever it was that we were while simultaneously trying to come up with a way to send us back.

She was staring at the transporter while I was staring at her when a sudden shriek of someone saying 'no' floated through the forest. It actually sounded less like a shriek and more like a lilting soprano. How someone could be practically screaming and still sound beautiful was beyond me.

One minute I was standing upright and the next Whitney was on top of me crushing my diaphragm. Now not only were the front of my clothes soaking wet but my ass was too. I stood and began scanning the forest for the voice and the mac truck that had knocked us over while Whitney rushed to cover the transporter in fallen branches, brush, and ferns.

"Are you two alright?" a voice called out from behind me.

I spun around to find a chick dressed so nice she could have been a model had she not been nearly over a foot too short. Seriously the chick probably couldn't have reached my shoulders even in the designer stilettos she wore.

I nodded as Whitney came to stand beside me. While I had no idea what Whit was thinking about I was seriously wondering how in the hell the girl had shown up out of nowhere and what she was doing in the middle of the forest in heels. Not necessarily the sort of shoe one would wear for hiking if you ask me.

A thunderous crash sounded suddenly causing me to jump out of my skin. Whipping around in the direction the sound had come from I found two men wrestling. They both were tall, but while one man was built with the physic of a professional body builder the other was leaner though he was still muscular. The smaller dude had shaggy blond curls and the bear of a man wore his hair in short brown curls. They both were moving quickly. Almost too quickly for two men who were wrestling in the middle of a damp, cold forest.

For some reason I couldn't keep my eyes off of the brunette. When one thinks of wrestling they think of a sport that lacks grace, but they both moved with such ease, like they were walking on air or in a ballet. It didn't seem real, but I pushed the thought away. I had more important things on my mind and thank God Whitney had enough control over herself to voice the exact question that my brain couldn't make my body ask.

"Where are we?"

I sucked in a breath and turned back to the miniature person that Whitney had voiced her question to. After a few moments I realized I had been holding my breath because of the scattered thoughts running through my head, like a kid with ADD hopped up on pixie sticks.

The chick looked at us obviously confused as to why we would ask where we were. I would have been confused too. I mean what kind of idiots get somewhere and don't even know where they were. From the moment I realized I wasn't in the lab anymore but outside somewhere, my brain had been jumping around like a Mexican jumping bean. So imagine, for a moment, what my thoughts were like when she told us we were in Washington.

"Washington!" we both cried in astonishment. That meant we had successfully transported across four states.

"I think I need a drink!" I muttered as I fell back onto a fallen moss covered tree. My ass was already soaked as it was. I was almost soaked to the bone.

Whit asked the girl if she had a phone she could use and, to be honest, that's that last thing I heard until Whitney cursed, "What the hell!"

"What?" I asked startled.

"The lab's phone number has been disconnected," she replied.

That doesn't make any sense. Not even ten minutes before we were in the lab and now the number's disconnected?

"Come back to our house and use our house phone. Maybe it's the reception here or something," the child-like woman said.

We didn't know the chick from Adam and she wanted us to go back to her place? That's how every slasher flick I'd ever seen began. You can't underestimate the small chicks. They're usually the ones that kick your ass.

Whit looked at me. "Something fishy is going on here. I don't like that I can't contact the lab."

"It's probably nothing," I replied in a useless attempt to soothe her as I stood up to follow her and our would be killer.

We hiked for what seemed miles; I was cold, wet, breathing heavily, and hobbling on a broken high heel. I wanted excitement, but not the kind where you die an agonizingly slow death after being tortured by fear.

I really got to be more careful about what I wish for.

The bringer of our demise wasn't even out of breath. That shit just wasn't fair. As we followed the pint sized murderer into the house like a lamb being lead to a slaughter, Whitney introduced herself. I wasn't planning on telling anyone my name, but Whit did it for me.

She's seriously asking for these people to kill us! We're going to die a slow and horrible death, I just know it! Okay, so sue me. I watched way too much TV growing up.

I kicked my shoes off, but only after Whitney had elbowed me in the ribs. I looked around in awe. I'd never seen a place so… clean.

I gotta get the name of their maid. Maybe that'll get Whitney off my back when we get home.

Whitney called the lab again, but got the same result as before; disconnected. After she was given the go ahead to call Information, she began to try and sort out what had happened to the lab's phone line. I, on the other hand, was simply staring off into space. My eyes weren't focused on a single thing and my brain wasn't even computing a single thought. It was probably fried by that time.

Whitney had been pacing throughout her conversation with the operator, but when she sat down in an arm chair beside me with a heavy sigh I snapped back to reality. At least until her face drained of literally all color. She was holding a newspaper when she looked up at our host.

"What year is it?" she asked in a robotic voice.

What kind of question is that?

"2006. Why?" the girl answered.

No way. There's no way in hell this is possible. Somehow I made my mouth move out of the classically shocked 'O' expression and spoke Whit's name. She ignored me though and instead asked the girl what her name was.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was so rude of me. My name's Alice Cullen," she replied.

My brain began to work again, but it couldn't have been working correctly. It was drawing conclusions that were beyond being even remotely possible. What my mind was telling me was something out of 'Stargate' or 'Star Trek' leaving me with the idea that maybe the experts were right in saying that too much television would rot the minds of children.

Cullen? Alice Cullen? Washington… no way. This cannot be happening.