A/N:

I had a feeling you guys wouldn't be able to guess who my inspiration for the Necromancer is! XD Still, I loved your guesses.

Most of you thought Aro or Caius. Some even guessed James or Garrett even though both have already has been mentioned in the story (James is Jimmy: Edward's best friend and Garrett was one of the Good Witch leaders in the clearing where Bella met the Goddess), and I understood you based your guesses on their personality traits in the books.

Funny thing is that not one single character in this story is like their counterpart in Twilight. Renee is like the ultimate caregiver, Charlie is very indifferent, Edward is unbelievably selfish, Alice is silent, brooding, and filled with bad attitude etc.

So yeah, I'm sure this will be a shock for you!

My inspiration for the Necromancer is actually Jasper. Didn't see that one coming, did you? ;-)

I have to warn you. This chapter contains sexual assault.

Title: The Undecided

Author: MarieCarro

Beta Reader: SarcasticBimbo

Genre: Supernatural/Drama

Pairing: Bella/Edward

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Bella thought she knew what her life looked like. It was normal teenage angst and high school boredom. However, one night proves her very wrong and she realizes everyone has been lying through their teeth. Bella isn't normal. Bella is a Witch. And she has a very important choice to make. B/E, Mature Content, AU/A(H)

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 Word Count: 3, 182

{Chapter 21}

"If you'd, please, lie down."

I squared my shoulders, refusing to show how nervous I felt, and made the move to hop up on the stone slab, but Edward prevented me from doing so by grabbing my arm. I turned my head to look at him and he pleadingly shook his head.

"Bella, I don't like this."

"I know you don't," I said to acknowledge what he was saying, and then I placed my hand on his cheek. "But we're here, and our best bet is to just get this over with." To further reassure him, I stood up on my toes to whisper in his ear. "If you see him as much as twitch toward doing anything that could harm me, go ahead and kill him."

Edward sighed, but let go of my arm and took a step back.

The Necromancer had obviously seen our exchange as he wasn't blind, and he gave Edward a dark, teasing smile. "Don't worry. I'll bring her back in one piece. You have my word."

"Your word means nothing to me," Edward replied with poorly suppressed anger and tension while giving the other man a lethal glare. "If you harm one single strand of hair on her, you'll die a slow and painful death."

With an evil chuckle and roll of his eyes, the Necromancer took his position at the top of the slab. "You keep making promises, but I'll believe it when I see it."

My back was stiff as a board as I leaned back with my head closest to him.

"Relax," he told me with exasperation. "It'll hurt less if you do."

I stared up at him, clearly feeling my own annoyance building up. I could easily see why Edward didn't like him. The Necromancer wasn't an easy piece to swallow. "You didn't say anything about it hurting."

"Darling, I didn't say anything about anything," he retorted with glee before he placed his fingertips against my temples. "You might experience a slight headache, but I'm sure you've lived through worse."

As he started to chant in Latin, I met Edward's eyes one last time to reassure him, but also to give him my permission to stop it all if the man whose mercy I was in crossed the line.

"Aufero vincula saeculi e spatium

A vis spiritum suum conscendo

Loco bracchium emortualis conplecto

Vita ex ante."

The feeling was akin to falling asleep, except for when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the Necromancer's bunker, but in an unknown bed.

And I wasn't in control of my body.

It was quite unsettling, but it was clear there was nothing I could do. I simply had to go along for the ride.

The girl, because she was no doubt just a little girl, whose body I was possessing looked at the woman who had woken her up. She had curly red hair and blue eyes, and there was something with the nose that was very familiar, but other than that, I'd never seen her before.

"Is it morning?" the girl asked whom I could only assume was her mother and then rubbed her eyes.

"Yes, and you need to wash up before breakfast. There's fresh water in the basin for you, and I'll help you with your hair once you're done."

The girl did as her mother told her and then sat down to allow her braid to be redone. Like her mother, the girl had long red hair, but it was straight as corn-silk instead of curly. It was impossible for me to know how old the girl was, but I knew from her height that she was very young; at least under eight years old, and since no names had yet been said, I couldn't use my family tree as a reference of where and when I was.

"Where's Papa?" the girl asked as her mother finished up with the braid.

"He had to leave early, but he said he wouldn't be gone long."

"He promised to teach me about our garden today."

The older woman froze in her actions, and while I wasn't certain the girl could hear the tension in her mother's voice, I sure could. "Actually, it's better if you stay inside with me today, Sarah."

There was only one Sarah in my mother's ancestry line, so I immediately had my answer there. I was in Sarah Ewing's body, and the woman behind me was my namesake, Isabella Amos-Ewing; married to Cyrus Ewing.

I concentrated on remembering the dates under the names on the tree, and as I did, I recalled what Renee had told me: "Unfortunately, Isabella was burned at the stake before her daughter turned five. Her husband, Cyrus Ewing, never re-married."

Since I had guessed the girl to be under eight, that meant Isabella's fate wasn't far into the future.

A thought came to me then. Maybe that was why I'd been sent to this time? Would I actually have to witness my ancestor being burned? I hoped not. As I'd understood it, execution by burning wasn't the fastest form of death.

"Why?" Sarah asked her mother and turned around to look at her.

Isabella's eyes were troubled like I expected any parent would be when they had to explain something complicated to a child. "You know how I've told you to only ever perform magic inside the house? Because the people in the village wouldn't understand?"

Sarah nodded.

"There are some bad people out there who cannot accept our differences, and until they go away, we cannot do anything even related to magic, and that includes taking care of our herbs." Isabella took hold of Sarah's hand. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I doubted the girl really did, but she nodded anyway.

As Isabella served Sarah some breakfast in the one room that took up the entire downstairs floor of the small wooden house there was a knock at the door. Isabella went to open it, but as Sarah was so invested in her breakfast, I wasn't able to see who it was. I only heard the voices behind Sarah's back.

"I can't help you," Isabella said and the clinking of coins followed.

"But I'm paying you! Please, I need your help!" The woman outside of the door sounded hysterical, but it didn't faze Isabella.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The door was closed and seconds later, Isabella stroked her daughter's hair lovingly.

"Finish your breakfast and you can help me bundle up the dried lavender," she said before fetching a basket filled fragrant flowers.

The mother and daughter worked in content silence for most of the day, but when the time passed when Isabella had expected Cyrus to be back, she started to pace the house and occasionally stare out the window in worry.

Once again, I wasn't sure if Sarah fully understood her mother's concern, but me just being an unnoticed presence in her body could see that Isabella was absolutely terrified. From her earlier words to Sarah about the people in the village who couldn't accept their differences, I guessed a few people had already been accused and sentenced for witchcraft. It was natural that Isabella was worried for her husband. I know I would have been had I lived in that time and Edward had been gone too long.

Since it appeared to be in the middle of summer, it was still bright daylight outside even though it was late afternoon when there was finally the sound of crunching gravel outside the house. However, the sound came from too many feet, and they were almost running.

Isabella looked at Sarah with wide eyes, and I knew she was suspecting the same as I was. "Sarah, quick, hide under the stairs, and don't come out no matter what you hear, okay?"

"Mama?" Sarah whimpered as Isabella grabbed her small little wrist in her own and almost shoved her in under a small nook underneath the stairs toward the bedrooms.

"Please, honey, everything will be fine as long as you stay quiet."

A loud banging on the door caused both of them to flinch. "Mistress Ewing, open the door! This is the warden!"

Sarah started to cry as the banging became more urgent and the man outside continued to yell how Isabella had to open the door.

"Honey, please," Isabella begged her daughter. "Please, try to be quiet!" She kissed the top of Sarah's head and then hurried to the door.

"Mistress Ewing, I demand you open this door! It's official business!"

Through the cracks in the steps of the stairs, Sarah was able to see the door and her mother opening it.

"Wardens, what can I help you with?" she asked with a politeness which the wardens didn't reciprocate, but instead grabbed her arms violently.

"Isabella Ewing, you are under arrest for witchcraft and are to come with me without resistance to await trial."

Isabella didn't fight them, but before the door was closed behind her as the men forced her outside, she met her daughter's eyes and mouthed, "I'm sorry."

I was already aware that I wasn't experiencing the day at normal speed. It was more as if I was only there to witness the most crucial events, and one of those wasn't to hear Sarah cry heartbreakingly under the stairs because suddenly, it was night outside. Sarah was still huddled under the stairs when the front door opened, and a man came running in.

"Sarah?" he called, but the girl was too terrified to answer. "Sarah!?" That was when he heard the sniffling, and he bent down and held out his hands for Sarah to grab. "Sweetheart, come here."

Sarah crawled out and put her arms around the man's neck. "Papa," she whimpered, and I immediately understood the man was Cyrus Ewing.

"Oh thank God," he breathed out in relief. "I thought they'd gotten you too."

"Where did they take Mama?"

Cyrus didn't answer her because I expected he probably didn't know how to explain. Instead, he just held Sarah tighter in his arms.

The next thing that happened would have made me flinch if I'd been able to. As it was, Sarah held on to her father's neck tightly as the old man in the stand yelled out the verdict of Isabella's trial.

The public sitting in the courtroom roared and threw profanities and curses right and left as Isabella's wrists were tied together with sturdy rope, and she was dragged more than escorted outside of the building where I assumed a pyre had already been built.

In the mayhem, Sarah witnessed how her mother found them in the crowd and in panic screamed out for her husband.

"Cyrus! Cyrus, help me!" Her eyes were filled with tears and she tried to run toward her family, but they yanked her arms forward, almost causing her to fall over. Before she had regained her balance, Cyrus turned his back to her and moved to leave.

Sarah started to struggle in his arms and cried for her mother, but Cyrus forced her with him, leaving his wife to her fate. Part of me could understand him because as cold as he seemed when he just left, I was certain he did it for Sarah's sake. If he interfered, there was a risk Sarah would lose both her parents.

I doubted Sarah would see it that way, though. I'd already figured out that Sarah was most likely the origin of the supposed blood curse in my mother's ancestry, or I wouldn't have been sent to her body to see all of these things that had, with certainty, affected her negatively.

And I was right.

In the blink of an eye, there was a massive time jump, and I saw Sarah's reflection in the water of a creek where she was laboriously washing clothes. She was easily thirteen or fourteen now, but her dead eyes made her look ancient.

She wrung out the last garment, placed it in her basket, and stood up to walk home. But just a few paces down the road, a man, maybe in his late twenties, sat under a tree, and Sarah's step faltered. I wasn't sure why because I couldn't hear her thoughts.

The man turned at the sound of Sarah's approach and a broad grin took over his face. "If it isn't the little witch herself," he said and stood up. He towered over her, which wasn't unexpected.

"Leave me alone, Joshua," Sarah said and tried to pass him, but he wouldn't let her.

"Give me a good reason." There was something about his eyes which was very unsettling. It was almost as if they weren't human. Cold and colorless.

Sarah didn't give him a reason as she tried to pass again. "Stop it. I have to hang up these clothes to dry."

"Why don't you use magic to dry them?" he asked, and his tone was sinister.

Up until then, I had assumed Joshua was a mortal, but Sarah surprised with her fiery retort. "All of us aren't as lucky as you, you bastard! Had you been a woman, you would have been burned years ago."

He chuckled evilly. "Yes. Just like your mother."

The slap Sarah gave him was as fast as a snake attack, and it was clear Joshua hadn't expected it. He appeared shocked for about a second, but then, all light disappeared from his eyes, and he charged at Sarah.

"You little bitch!" His voice was closer to a growl. "I'll teach you to ever hit me again." He pulled her around the back of the tree and threw her onto the ground. Sarah tried to crawl away, but he quickly dragged her back. When he started to rip at her clothes and pull up her skirts, I understood what he was about to do, and since I saw it all through Sarah's eyes, it was as if he was doing it to me, even though I couldn't feel anything. I wanted to fight him to protect myself and to protect Sarah, but I was helpless and useless. All I could do was scream as loud as I could inside her head, but not even that was audible.

Sarah closed her eyes when she realized she couldn't fight Joshua. He was much too strong and heavy for her small frame. While I was relieved I didn't have to see his disgusting face, I still heard every scream and whimper coming from Sarah, and his forceful violent thrusts was still noticeable to even me.

I wanted to throw up when I heard him finish, and even more so when I once again remembered my family tree and the 'Unknown' father of Sarah's daughter. Sarah was fifteen when Elizabeth was born so there couldn't be a coincidence that Sarah was raped so close to that age. I was now certain that this was how Elizabeth was conceived, and I hated that this Joshua was actually an ancestor of mine.

Sarah had her eyes open again, but she wasn't looking at Joshua. Her head was turned sideways and she was staring at the grass, focusing on every single strand as if by doing so, she could transport herself away from there. I could feel her numbness, but also the simmering of her building anger. Who that anger was directed at, I couldn't tell, but I assumed it was Joshua.

He said something, and while Sarah didn't appear to hear him, I did.

"Not bad. I might have to pay you another visit someday."

Inside Sarah's head, I was screaming and kicking and cursing the bastard. I tried to use my powers, but, of course, nothing happened.

I wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours later when Sarah finally got up from the ground. She was wincing and walking very slowly as she made her way back to the creek. The basket with clothes was still on the road, but all the garments were once again dirty. Sarah didn't care. She took up the basket and walked toward the water.

She stripped out of all her clothes, except for the long white linen undergarment closest to her skin, and as she waded out into the water, I noticed the blood coming down her legs. When the icy water hit her abused genitals, she hissed first, but the cold must have helped with the pain because it was the only sound she made as she started to scrub herself clean. Not one more sound escaped her even as she roughly washed between her legs.

Once she was done, she dried herself off and redressed in one of the other garments in the basket. The one she'd been wearing had stains of blood on it, and she threw that into the creek angrily. But then, she fell to her knees and started crying hysterically.

However, they were tears of anger, and her mumbled words dripped with hatred. "I vow on my own life, you will regret this, Joshua."

When she removed her hands from her face, there had been another time jump. Sarah was screaming at her father, and he was red-faced as he screamed right back at her.

"You're with child?! You've endangered your entire future. You're not even close to marriage! How could you be so stupid?"

"You think I wanted this?"

"You bedded a married man," Cyrus yelled, and it was clear he thought Sarah only had herself to blame.

"He violated me, you bastard!"

"He's married to the warden's daughter, and forever safe from prosecution. Why ever would he jeopardize that for you?"

Sarah threw a bowl at her father's head in fury. "You're supposed to be on my side! But you've always favored yourself more than anyone else." Her words were filled with poison, like a viper's tongue. "You'll abandon me now, won't you? Just like you abandoned my mother."

Cyrus didn't answer, but his facial expression told me it wasn't the first time he and Sarah had that conversation.

Everything unraveled fast after that and I was no longer attached to Sarah's body. I became a spectator as I watched a very pregnant Sarah kill Joshua, and then used his blood in her vengeance against her father.

It was the darkest form of magic I'd ever seen, and it scared me someone could feel such hate toward herself, everyone around her, and the ones who would descend from her. She wanted everyone to feel her misery, and when she watched her father's life slowly fade out of him, her eyes were that of a woman who enjoyed seeing the world burn.

I was wrenched from the past, but even before I could register I was myself and back in my own body again, I violently threw up by the side of the stone slab.

A/N:

Yeah, I know that was very dark! I hope I didn't scare you too much.

Okay, so Edward obviously doesn't like the Necromancer, do you have any theories as to why?

Next up, Bella and Edward will for real start their journey, and while looking for rouges is a part of it, she hasn't old Edward about wanting so find the library she saw in the Seer's memories. How do you think he will react when she tells him?

Until next time,

Stay Awesome!