Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all and rules all. TWILIGHT IS NOT MINE!

Hey guys, so this is my first fic. EVER. And I'm not very proficient at writing but I decided you know what? Why the hell not! And I know all of my chapters are SUUUUUUUUUUUPER short, I am going to try to make them a shitload longer because they are pathetic. Also, in this story Bella is actually Belle, because… I don't really have a good enough reason, except for the fact that I don't really like the name Bella…. Lol anyways, on with it~

Previously on Psychopathic Exchange

"P-please, let me go! I-I'm sorry for whatever I've done, I didn't mean to I-"

"Shhhhhhhhhh, my darling, shh, its time for me to talk." I took my time, tracing the outline of his lips, slowly taking care to form every curve and edge. Mike had beautiful lips. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, and about to plummet my knife into Mike's lovely neck, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Mike started gasping for air, as if he had been stabbed. I turned around, preparing to see Jacob, my love, my life, smiling down at me, proud of my almost-accomplishments, but instead, I was faced with a nasty surprise.

He was tall, with unruly dark hair, I couldn't see the color of it, due to the lack of light, but it appeared to be brown. His eyes were a piercing shade of emerald. But as soon as I realized this stranger was not my Jacob, I became petrified. Yet the first words out of his mouth swiftly quashed my fears.

"Need some help?"

NOW…

I was too stunned to speak. Yes my fear had died down a bit, yes my heart was officially not in my throat anymore, but still, the way this mystery man had just walked up to me! And in the midst of a kill! "No." I finally managed, looking back at Mike's shivering form. "Please go away. Now." I forcefully said, fully intending to gut Mike as soon as Mr. Mysterious had walked away.

"No, I don't think I will" he whispered in my ear, causing a shiver to course through my motionless body. I did not like this man.

"Please… please let me go, I swear I wont tell anyone, ever!" Mike's slur shocked me out of my stupor. He was lucky to still be alive. Not for long though. Quick in a flash, his neck was spurting blood, my blade buried in his flesh, down to the hilt. He fell to the ground, grasping at the knife, gasping, stuttering, spitting blood, and then all was still. I smiled grimly. This was my favorite part, the part where I could see my reflection-clear as day, in a puddle of blood. Shiny, red, viscous. It was spreading fast. It quickly reached the edge of my shoes, when I remembered the mysterious man who had stood behind me. I turned around, but of course, he was gone. My smile grew. The last thing I needed was another active participant in kills that were solely mine. I turned back to Mike's fallen body. The blood had seeped through the bottoms of my heels, making them seem to have an ombre effect. I stared at the blood soaked ground, my reflection staring right back at me. My hair, when I had left the house hand in hand with Jacob, had been in an elegant twist at the base of my neck, but now, lay limp, tendrils framing my face. I saw my eyes, once black with the lust for killing, now a calmer shade of caramel. My skin, usually in sync with the color of a porcelain dolls, now held a faint blush that spread all the way to my chest. All in all, I looked dangerously exciting.

I pursed my lips. What was there to do now? I could just go home and leave the body here, as long as I took my knife with me and cleaned the dumpster of all my prints… even if mystery man decided to show up and burst my bubble at the police station, he had no sufficient evidence that would hold up in court. I also reeeeeally didn't want to get my new mini cooper dirty… it was a birthday present from my best friend… or the closest thing I ever had to having one anyway. All right, I guess I'll leave him here to rot then.

I carefully withdrew my trusty blade from Mike's neck, causing more blood to drip down his already saturated shirt. I quickly wiped it with a rag found on the ground near the dumpster, and proceeded to dust the entire area I had been in throughout this whole ordeal. A couple of minutes later, I figured it was as clean as it could get, so I walked away, my heels making a satisfying splattering sound every time I took a step. I never spared Mike another glance. A few weeks later, I regretted this action whole-heartedly.