I cursed myself for flinching as he flicked his lighter. He was only lighting a cigarette, but I hadn't been expecting it. My nerves were on edge anyway, and he had been standing right beside me.

He saw me flinch, of course, so now he knew. He lit his cigarette, and came closer. "Does this bother you?" He asked mockingly. I could feel the warmth as he moved the lighter closer to my arm.

I involuntarily jerked, trying again to get loose; it was a sign of just how weak I was that he could restrain me so easily.

The straight jacket was gone; so was my shirt. I was strapped down on some sort of bed; apparently he felt I was weak that enough he could move me. He was curious about me, and was now trying to satisfy that curiosity.

He had discovered I had no heartbeat, and had inadvertently found that I did not have to breathe to survive. The bright light overhead had revealed some of the worst of my scars; he found those fascinating, and examined them, asking questions as he traced several of them; I responded by swearing at him, putting into use words I had not used since I had left Maria's coven.

I hated that more than anything else, that he could study the scars with such disregard to what they implied. Each one had been torture, a reminder of death and destruction, of the murderer I had long ago decided I no longer wanted to be, of the monster I no longer was. I hated that he ran his fingers lightly over them as Alice had done in the past, as if he had every right to do with me whatever he so pleased.

It was a violation, one that I resented but had no power to stop. I wanted nothing more than to kill this man, to tear him apart, to make him suffer. He was cruel, and sadistic, more of a monster than even I was.

He had stopped, eventually, and took a moment to light his cigarette. I winced as the flame danced against my skin, and tried not to panic. He did not realize how dangerous fire actually was to our kind.

He laughed as I jerked, and let the flame flicker as he made a show of examining it. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little fire." He taunted me. A whimper escaped from the back of my throat as he brought it closer.

I resisted the urge to struggle as he again brushed my arm with the flame. Struggling wouldn't do me any good anyway.

What did worry me was how easily he could cause some serious damage, and I wondered if it would be better or worse if he knew. I was almost certain he didn't want me dead, however, and perhaps if he knew how close he was to doing me serious harm, he would back off.

He moved, trying to intimidate me by holding the lighter mere inches from my face. I took advantage of it, and spat at the flames. The highly flammable venom that had building up in my throat caused the flame to flare up; he nearly dropped the lighter in surprise.

But he seemed to get the hint, at least. He put the lighter away, but turned his attention to the venom itself.

I snarled at him as he continued his questions; I didn't like where this was heading.

Disclaimer: Twilight belongeth to me neither in name, nor deed, nor in this reality, nor in any alternate reality.