Author's Note: Ah! My school semester is finally over. Hopefully I'll be updating a little more often, so every few days now. Your reviews and questions about what is happening or your opinions on Edward and his decisions are really interesting to read! Hopefully this chapter will give you a little more insight on some things. It'll bring up more questions too, I'm sure!

Playlist highlights for this chapter:

Gold - Owl City

The Light Behind Your Eyes - My Chemical Romance

Zetsubou Billy - Maximum the Hormone


It was remarkable just how much my little nightingale opened up in this secluded prison. Within a week, she began to flourish, smiling when she woke up in the morning and being so much more active than I had ever seen her. She was quickly matching up to those memories I had seen in her father's mind. It made me…happy.

Knowing I gave her that, when it was strongly apparent that she received the opposite wherever she was preceding my discovery.

Despite the scuffle we had when we arrived, she treated me no different. Although, her behavior had swayed into more of an independent nature. I found that my pet liked walking outside during the day. It was relatively cloudy most of the time, but I would still refuse to join her when she asked. Instead, I would watch from the back door as she strolled along the moss and leaves. The backyard around us was vast, marked with disheveled narrow trails from hikers over the years. Every step she took made my chest ache because she was moving away from me, making me fear she would run. Low and behold, Bella never did. She would walk to a tree or two, smile brightly whenever she spotted a rodent scurrying about at her feet or in the distance, take in a dozen deep breaths of the musty forest air, then return to the cabin.

"I wish you would join me sometime," she'd murmur, to which I would shake my head. I hadn't told her why daylight and I didn't make good companions, seeing as it wasn't important for her to know. "Fresh air would do you some good."

She really was an ignorant little thing, at times.

When she slept, I tried to go and hunt. Hikers were dwindling in numbers this time of year, though I was desperate to feed so I would be less likely to drain Bella whenever I tasted her succulence. But like in the city, their blood was putrid and I vomited more than I ingested. It was beyond infuriating! Too bad there wasn't some sort of inhuman library that existed in order to provide me with answers to my confusion.

On a not-too-particular day, about two weeks after we arrived, she and I were sitting in the living room, listening to Debussy. Even though I was an introverted creature, I did enjoy some things from humans. Music had always been one. Bella enjoyed when I would hum to her tunes that I created instantaneously. I made sure there would be a music player in the home, and more often than not, I would listen to various compositions while reading. We were both quiet; the only sounds coming from her being her breaths and blood flow. This day was a recovery one for her, since I had fed from her the previous evening.

"Edward," she whispered from across the couch, drawing my attention from my book enough to look at her pained expression.

"What is it?" I asked, perturbed at her face. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as her lips pressed against one another forcefully. I groaned a little in hunger at how she looked.

"How come you've never asked…what happened to me? You know, before we met…"

Her question surprised me greatly, and I closed the book in my hands, setting it on the table in front of us. Of course I had been curious about what brought her to the alley that night. Who made those marks along her hips. Who stabbed her. What had been done to her for seven long months. But it was not my story to know – I learned enough from her father at the precinct. I was silent for forty seconds before taking in a needless breath and sighing.

"None of my business," I stated. She seemed disappointed in the response, her shoulders slouching. Canting my head to the side, I began to wonder. "Did you wish to tell me, Isabella?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear about it, to be honest. The rage I felt at the mere thought of the possibilities caused me immense discomfort. Would her telling me change our dynamic, our routine somehow?

"Well…since I doubt I'll be able to tell anyone else before I die…" I couldn't help but flinch subtly at her wording, but I hid it well. One of her hands ran through the thick strands of her hair, playing with them between her warm fingers as she continued. "…I might as well tell someone…"

Leaning back in the couch, my hands fell to the sides of my thighs, meeting the soft fabric beneath. "Well, do go on," I urged, now curious as to what she would tell me. Had she gained some stranger sense of trust about me? Why would she choose now to tell me something that was clearly traumatic? Was it only because she expected she would die soon enough?

Her gaze steeled, growing cold as she stiffened against the lush pillows at her back. I listened intently as the rhythm of her heart spiked; her blood rushing through her in torrid waves.

"It was so dark," her voice ghosted while her chocolate hues focused on something across from us, growing dull and losing their luminescence. I sensed from their dilation that Bella was no longer with me; she was wherever her nightmares began. "They never let me near the light. It was cold, and wet, and smelled like rotting death."

Her bottom lip trembled, making me want to still it. I remained silent, allowing her the time she would need to speak without judgment.

"I was tied up, with chains or something. They were so heavy, and cut into me whenever I tried to move too much. My ankles were attached to the floor…they made a horrible sound when I kicked at them. Like metal tearing inside a car. My arms were looser; I was able to move them up and down a little. I woke up in the dark, and I lost my voice when I tried to scream."

My perfect mind began to paint a picture of torture. Even though her words were vague, I could picture her being bound, left alone, as terrified as a rabbit. I growled in my throat at the very idea.

"They'd come in, one at a time…deep voices and callused hands that were hot and sweaty…God, they reeked of alcohol and blood…"

My nostrils flared. Had she been violated more than I anticipated?

"I begged and pleaded for them to stop. To let me go…but they laughed at me…" The salty twinge of tears filled the air, and I frowned when I realized she was crying now. There was bravery in her demeanor that I began to admire – she had clearly experienced so much, yet was willing to talk about it. "One told me once that I was too important. They needed me. That they'd make me need them, too…"

Her hair fell at the side of her face, shielding me from her falling expression. Slowly, I inched myself closer, wanting to see her reactions. I needed to see.

"One voice was familiar but…I can't remember where I heard it from…they starved me for days…giving me scraps and water when they felt like it or remembered…I think they drugged me, too…their hands were everywhere all the time and they hurt so much…so many bruises…" She began to rock back and forth, dragging up her knees to her chest. One of my hands levitated to her cheek, brushing away the hair. All color had drained from her features, making me even more furious. Whoever her captors were, they had broken this already fragile human.

I want to shred them apart and bleed them dry!

"I found a way to escape…I think…the last time, when I woke up after they…" she swallowed. "I realized one of the chains was loose. Like a screw had come loose. I broke free and somehow got my feet out of the shackles on the floor. I was so weak; I remember throwing up from smelling the sludge at my side. I didn't know what it was, but it was so foul. I felt around for a door, finding one and throwing myself against it as much as I could. It opened pretty easy, and when I saw light again, it hurt so much…"

I can only imagine. Months without any visual stimulation like that would undoubtedly cause some pain.

"I crawled up stairs for hours, or maybe minutes, I don't know…" Her words were swelling with emotion as her breathing grew unstable. "There was a latch that led to the street, and I was so cold…it was freezing. I remember trying to hug myself, but I was so tired…"

It was becoming incredibly difficult for me to control my anger. I tried to focus my attention on Bella's physical well-being, running one of my hands along her arm. Her tears rolled down her delicious cheeks like streams, filling my nose with their tangy scent.

"Someone saw me, and I tried to call out but my throat was so sore…then, I saw something move and hit me hard in my head. There was something like hands around my neck, too. It got warm after that. I remember hearing yelling and feeling horrible jolts of pain in my side and chest but…" Her voice was breaking down with each spoken syllable. I clearly remembered how I found her in that alley, sprawled out and broken, but beautiful and waiting for me. I ran my tongue along my lips at the memory.

Slowly, one of my hands moved down to her hip, tugging at the stretch pants she was wearing. She stared at me, fighting to hold back her sobs while my fingers dipped inside the cloth, pulling down the material to reveal the markings I saw before.

"They did this to you," I said, narrowing my eyes and snarling to myself. Her other wounds healed, and if those chains hurt, the markings healed. But not these. These were scars of something more brutal. Bella nodded, placing a hand on top of mine. The warmth shot through me and my eyes flew to hers, seeing them fill with light once again.

We were silent as we watched each other. Seven long moments passed before my pet's breathing finally regained equilibrium, her heart slowing down to a normal pace.

"You saved me," she said quietly, lowering her eyes to my hand at her hip. The pad of my thumb traced the indents in her beautiful skin, memorizing them. My teeth clenched at her words. This wasn't me saving her. I was just as evil as her captors; I only didn't torture her in the same way. She moved her face closer to mine as her eyes widened some. If I had a pulse, it most likely would have quickened at the strange closeness that emerged so suddenly. "Edward…I…"

Is this this place? You've gotta be kidding me!

There was no second of pause as my body shot from the couch to the front door. Someone was dangerously close to the cabin, and I could tell from the tone that it wasn't a hiker.

She better be in one piece.

I growled, knowing full well that whoever was approaching was alluding to my Isabella. Speaking of which, she was shivering at the couch, watching me in fright. "Edward...?"

"Stay quiet," I hissed. Who was here? How could I have been followed? All my tracks were wiped clean, the loft was deserted and no one in that building even knew my real name.

My arms grew tense as my body curled into a pouncing position. I'd let whoever get to the door, that way they'd think they were in the clear. Then, the moment they opened and saw me, they'd pay for intruding my entrenched sanctuary. The fury from the story just told to me fueled me, filling my mouth with a strong taste for vengeance. The footsteps were close now, and I could tell it was a male. His heart was pounding, his breathing labored, as if he had run for a long period of time. It would be the last run he'd ever take, I'd make sure.

I wonder if she's even still alive.

Bella's own pounding heart was staggering, making me even thirstier for bloodshed. I bit back the urge to growl loudly, to make my territory well known to this human. When his feet grazed against the steps to the door, every muscle in my being tightened and I licked along the front of my teeth in anticipation. I gave myself five seconds to end his wretched life.

The small mechanisms in the door began to twist as the knob turned, the door opening slowly. The poor excuse for a meat sack had the gall to ignore proper manners and knock! My jaw clenched as my eyes began to see red.

Once the door was open enough for a face to appear, three things happened simultaneously.

I looked into the deep, coal eyes of a young Native American male, who strangely seemed relatively at ease at my presence. His gaze moved from mine, looking beyond my shoulder, spotting Bella on the couch, and filling with recognition.

Then, I was blasted with the most ferocious and disturbing images from his mind, all of them involving Isabella.

Waiting behind a parked van at her college during the evening. As she walked out, looking at her cell phone and texting, he, along with three other hooded figures ran at her, shoving a rag of chloroform at her mouth and dragging her into the van.

Wrapping the thick chains around her ankles and wrists, snickering with the other figures as they removed their hoods. I didn't recognize their faces. Their hands touched Isabella everywhere, removing her clothing piece by piece, as well as their own. Laughter filled the small chamber as they each took turns violating her, waking her up to witness it.

Slicing into her thighs, hip, and stomach with a small knife as he forced himself upon her, after he shot himself with a syringe of heroin. Afterwards, he had a cigarette and quickly jabbed at her thighs with the smoldering end, watching with amusement as she cried out in pain.

Sitting outside of the chamber room, which was concealed within a basement, listening as she grew hoarse from screaming, begging for food and water. To be free. Smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone, bored. Growing irritated, he stomped into the room and grabbed a busted pipe, smashing the broken end against her hip to shut her up.

Watching as a group of older men in thick robes appeared, asking questions about her state. It was more jumbled than the others, since he was clearly high beyond reason.

Finally, grabbing her forearm with such force on the street that she nearly screamed, except for the fact that his hand went to her neck, strangling her. One of the other young males slammed his elbow into the back of her head, knocking her unconscious. She fell into his arms and he took her into the back alleyway, looking apologetic as the other man spewed something about her knowing too much and being a liability. Knives were pulled out and she was stabbed multiple times, while he kept her mouth shut so she couldn't make any noise.

A phone went off, and he answered it, swearing under his breath and telling the other male that they need to go. That this actually works for the plan.

At the same time, I heard Bella gasp; her pulse shifting to an insurmountable account of speed. Her voice was cracked; disbelieving and laced with terror.

"—Jake?"