Hello! I know i've been slow on the updating a little bit recently, i'm trying to keep up with my usual pace and standard but i spend more time in hospital than at home at the moment and it's hard to recover, keep your muse and try to lower your pain levels all at the same time. Anyhow, i hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think? :)


Anita's POV

I felt Olaf dig his knife in a little deeper, not yet deep enough to cause major damage, but the pain was almost blinding. More and more waves of terror and helplessness rushed over me as I felt him try to concentrate on both his tasks. The pain flooding my body making it hard to focus. The bite of the knife was making blood spill hot between our bodies, the blood flowing from the chest wound slipping down to join it. He pressed himself against my opening and took a breath, looking up at me with his eyes filled with pleasure and excitement. It made me sick. How could anyone get off on something like this? It was then that I realised that being terrified and unable to fight is what he wanted from me, and I couldn't give him that. It would mean he had won, and that was not okay with me. I pushed my fear aside, along with the pain the knife and his pressing against me was causing, and met his eyes with a cold, empty glare. The pleasure in his eyes faded, a mad glint instead taking it's place. I felt him begin to slide the knife through my skin like it was hot butter and gathered my strength, jerking back harshly as much as my restraints would grant me. His knife pulled out of my stomach with a sickening sound that brought a cry from me, but having an inch or two between our naked bodies was almost worth it, until I saw the anger contorting his face.

His fist closed around the handle of the knife as he brought it up and struck my face with it. I felt white hot pain blossom across my cheekbone and realised how long it had actually been since anything physical had hurt this much, how long it had been since I'd truly had to worry about how much someone was hurting me. Cut off from all of my metaphysic links, I had nothing left to protect myself with. Olaf's fist flew out again and struck my ribs, my breath was sucked from my chest as I tried to scream, the sickening crack of bones making the world gray for a moment.

'You stupid little bitch. You shouldn't have done that!' Olaf growled menacingly, 'You've only made it worse for yourself.' The evil smirk that played across his face made my mouth grow dry and wish I'd just let him kill me the easy way. Whatever he was going to do now was going to hurt a hell of a lot more, and what he'd been doing in the first place had been damn near unbearable. His smirk grew wider as he watched new waves of terror momentarily stun me, but I started to push it away and let myself sink into the beginnings of that cold white static that I went to when I killed, hoping it would help dull some of the pain. I watched as he held out the hand that wasn't holding the knife and hovered it above the deep incision in my stomach. His smirk grew manic for a second, and I closed my eyes to brace myself before he plunged already blood slick fingers into the wound he'd made. I couldn't help it, I screamed as his fingers explored the gaping hole of skin, muscle and blood, as he pulled and dragged his fingers through it making the pain more prominent, the blood flow freer, the skin tear more around the edges.

Eventually, he pulled his fingers out and I heard him panting harshly through the roar of blood in my ears. I felt sick and faint, but nothing that good was going to happen. My body wasn't going to allow me to black out for this, so I opened my eyes and gave him what I hoped would be my most terrifying glare. Instead, he just laughed breathlessly and I watched as he took a blood covered hand and began rubbing himself, his eyes fixated on the parts of my body that blood was flowing freely from. I watched as he grew more and more erratic, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier, and something inside me snapped.

I felt the wall over the power that terrified me the most come crashing down around me, I felt the way the cool power of the most ancient vampire flowed through me, changing my eyes to pure black. Olaf was too lost inside his own pleasure to realise that anything had changed. The power wormed its way back into every crevice of my body as it had when I'd first taken it into myself, only this time I was in control. The Mother of All Darkness's energy inside of me did not like this man laughing at our pain, taking pleasure from our pain, trying to rip life away from us when all we had ever done was try to create new forms of it. Normally I would have fought this, but tonight I welcomed it. I took the extra energy, pulled it into the core of myself and felt my muscles bunch as I pulled on the chains holding my arms tightly above my head. They snapped easily, and Olaf's eyes flew open.

For a moment he looked confused, then something like fear marred his features, but it soon turned to disgust as he took in my midnight eyes and the way my power flowed tangible around me.

'What kind of monster are you?!' He twisted the word monster into something abominable, and started backing away from me. I glowed at him, sending out tendrils of power that whipped at him. Olaf had never been a psychic null, and now with the interference of the witch, he could feel it as if he were actually a were. He flinched, trying to figure out how to stop the pain that was assaulting him. I yanked my legs free of their restraints and stumbled forward a little. He laughed again as I spent a moment to collect myself.

'All that power and you can't even stand straight. Pathetic.' He sneered at me, standing up straighter and clutching his knife in his hand. Anger washed through me, adding to the rage and the power already building inside of me. I was waiting for my moment to strike as he gathered his confidence, beginning to make small movements towards me. He wouldn't realise until too late how stupid an idea that was. Olaf was a foot away from me as I began to unleash more and more tendrils of power to whip at him, hard enough to draw blood across his pale, sweaty skin. It poured in thick, red lines across his bare body that made me feel both sick and faintly hungry. Yet he still kept approaching me, his knife held tightly in his hand.

'You'll pay for that.' Olaf whispered, his voice controlled, threaded with some sociopath quality that I hoped I never mastered. His evil smirk was back, and I couldn't understand why when he could feel the amount of power I had inside of me right now, until I felt a whip of power back. It wasn't his, it felt warmer than any power Olaf would have contained, but It felt familiar. Like something that was inside of me. The witches. It was borrowed, but it was strong. I felt my skin split across my back as he began letting out his own tirade of power whips to battle against mine. Each of us unwilling to give up. Whoever this witch was, she was more powerful that I could have ever imagined it she could lend him this much power and still be alive herself.

I felt myself tiring, the power receding in increments. My body was battered and bruised, I was bleeding from more wounds that I could account for and I was becoming weaker. Hardly able to stand, I fell to my knee's three feet from him and tapped into what little energy I had left to give without killing myself. I threw spears of power that drew deep spurts of blood from parts of his body, but each time I felt the world gray a little more around the edges. The dark spots in front of my eyes became deeper, the only thing keeping me from falling into unconsciousness was the pain that Olaf and his borrowed power were inflicting on me, and the lingering tendrils of power inside me that were trying to keep me alive enough to fight back for a moment more.

Hope, power and willpower were fading fast, and I was all but ready to concede to his victory over me until I heard the gunshot ring out and the power around Olaf decreased. He cried out, and the pain he was throwing at me was leaving. The dark spots were growing, but I was still alert enough to realise that it wasn't Olaf that had been shot. It was the witch, and I was still in danger. But if the witch was dead, that meant someone was here to save me. Edward. It had to be Edward. Relief washed over me for a second before I saw Olaf begin to close the space between us.

Two feet, my breathing began to hitch as the terror took me over again. He took another big step, closing another foot between us. One foot, his eyes glimmered with rage and pain, his mouth twisted into a grimace. Another step and he was inches from me, towering over me with his knife in his hand. I mustered up everything I had left, not enough to fight back in any way, but enough to scream. Enough to let Edward know to be quick, to let him know where I was. It was enough, because a second later there was incoherent shouting, and three consecutive gunshots rang out. I felt relief as Olaf's face disappeared from my line of vision, before the pain grabbed me again, the world span, and then everything was blissfully dark.