"This chapter contains scenes depicting violence of a graphic and unpleasant nature most of which involves an abusive situation. Given the nature of this material, reader discretion is advised. If you wish, you can skip to the next chapter without missing anything absolutely vital to the story."

Chapter 30

She heard echoed screams coming from down the hall. Her bedroom door stood like a sentinel, that kept the horrible voices from reaching out and grabbing her. She was curled up under her blankets with her favorite stuffed animal, a mangy sandy colored wolf named Arnold. She couldn't help but peek out from under the blankets at the door and the light shining in from beneath it.

Her parents fought like this all the time, or sometimes it felt that way. She squeezed her wolf tighter. "It's okay Arnold. Everything will be okay." She whispered, trying to reassure him. She didn't understand that it was really herself she was trying to console.

Then she heard her mother scream some word she didn't understand. There was a large crash, of what sounded like a dish breaking, followed by a masculine bellow of rage, and a much smaller scream from her mother. She heard the sound of something hitting the wall with a heavy yet dull thud, then her mother cried hoarsely in a way that even a four year old could tell was begging. "No, no!"

After a long moment of silence, she heard a strange thump, immediately followed by several more that slowly changed into a wet squelching sound she didn't understand. Then it was quiet, no more yelling, no more weird banging, nothing. The quiet made her even more frightened for some reason. It stayed that way for several long minutes before anything happened.

The commotion that followed was even stranger than the thumping, there was grunting and whispered mutterings that sounded like daddy's bad words, something being dragged into the bathroom, the shower curtain being moved around a lot, then more dragging. After another long silence there was more grunting and dragging, that moved towards the front of the house. Finally the front door opened and slammed shut, although the time between it being opened and shut took way longer than usual.

She wanted to go out of her room and make sure everything was okay. But she had learned her lesson the one time she had tried to venture out and found her crying mother. Her mother slapped her across the face, a fiercely angry expression on her face, then screamed at her to get back to her room. She ran back terrified, and once inside her bedroom she huddled up under her covers and didn't to leave again until morning. That was the first and last time she ever acted on her curiosity.

She told Arnold, "It's a good thing when the door slams, mostly. Because that means that the fighting is over."

She woke up still curled around her wolf, she rubbed her eyes because it was still dark. She stood on her bed and peaked out the window to see that the sun hadn't risen yet. She hopped down and tiptoed tentatively to the door, pressing her ear against it to make sure her dad wasn't up. But she couldn't hear anything coming from the other side of the door. She slowly ventured out of her room, only to find her dad was already awake and busy.

After the night before she didn't want startle him, and she made sure to leave Arnold on her bed where he'd be safe. She was confused because everything looked clean, the dull white paint on the walls no longer had scuff marks, and the kitchen was gleaming. Then she realized most of the stuff in the living room and kitchen was gone too, and her dad was carrying a box of stuff from his bedroom to his truck.

He didn't even spare her a glance as he made a few more trips in and out of the house. She knew better than to bother him when he was busy like this, so she made a piece of bread with peanut butter for breakfast. She wasn't allowed to use the toaster or she got paddled.

She had barely finished her meager breakfast when her dad grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her out of her chair. "Where are we going daddy?" She asked him plaintively as he walked her out the door and towards the truck.

"Your mother ran away," he practically spat the words out, "We have to leave now."

"When will we come back?" She asked him as she stood next to the truck, while he checked the ties on the ropes. She clearly didn't understand.

"We can't come back." He said harshly.

She turned and tried to dash back into the house. She made it two steps before he had grabbed her arm again and jerked her back, his face contorted with rage. "Don't you ever run from me you ugly little bitch or I'll fucking kill you!" She let out a terrified squeal as he threw her into the crowded cab of the truck, a pile of clothes between her and the passenger side door. Her clothes.

"Arnold!" She cried out tears pouring down her face, "I can't leave him!"

Her dad ignored her as he slid into the driver's seat and started the truck up. When they began to drive away, the girl sobbed piteously and let out a long wail. She didn't want to go with him, she didn't know where her mama was, and she was leaving her only friend behind.

She was cut off by two hard sharp slaps that made her face explode in pain. It made her jaw fall open and she couldn't close it right. "Stop that noise or I'll give you something to cry about!" he snapped viciously at her. The four year old girl stopped crying, even though her face was on fire. That was the moment she learned the that tears got you nothing but pain.

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It had taken her a long time to find any semblance of calm, slaughtering animals and then a whole family before she came down enough to process things normally. Her first sense of self filtered down into her conscious mind and the horror of what she'd done finally sunk in. She crumpled to the forest floor right where she stopped and wept without tears.

After an immeasurable length of time, something broke through her private living nightmare and the emotions that were strangling her released her from their iron grip. A oddly bright thought blossomed in her dark anger riddled mind, she was free... then the darkness snuffed out that brightness as if it never existed. Those last words she'd heard. The ones that haunted her. Her father, her friends were in danger. She started running even before the thought had finished in her mind. She ran until she found a road, then followed it she reached the first marker. That lead her to another, and another, until she finally came upon something approaching civilization. She had been buried deep deep in the Canadian forest. Once she realized which way to go, she ran for home.

The run was exhilarating, even more so than when he carried her. She pushed that thought away and focused on the moment. Less than three hours later she crossed into Forks proper. Less than a minute later she was at her house. Her pace slowed, but didn't stop as she ran up to the back door without hesitation. The basic lock snapped with a simple tug as she threw open the door and entered the house. "Charlie!... Dad?" Her voice sounded weird to her, speaking words instead of voiceless screams. Inside she barely recognized the house. It wasn't just that there was no one home. It was empty, barren, devoid of the life she'd hoped to find.

She searched every room, and found the only thing left was the cord Charlie had nailed down to the floor of her room so she could keep in contact with her mother. She finally checked the front yard, somehow still hopeful that his cruiser would be parked outside, but all she could see was a weathered "For Sale" sign sitting in the center of a dead lawn.

She left the same way she entered, ignoring how the door didn't close properly. Next to the tree she swung in as child was something she'd mistaken on her run in for a large rock, the strange object seemed to beckon her, and she found herself walking towards it with a mounting sense of dread.

Someone had carefully engraved words into the oval shaped rock. It was obviously meant to be a gravestone, or some sort of memorial. She couldn't make herself read it until she got within a few feet, then her eyes moved across the surface. Each letter hardened her features as her entire world stopped. She sank down to her knees in front it, lost beyond words and traced the text with one careful finger again and again.

Charlie Swan.

Police Chief, Forks Washington

Loving Father, Loyal Friend

He Never Stopped Searching,

May He Find Her in Another Life

Underneath the engraving someone had obviously added their own words. They weren't quite centered and tilted slightly as if someone used a hammer or chisel after the fact.

Forever Grieving.

She found herself weeping again. For once she was grateful for the pouring rain, it mimicked the tears she could no longer make as the cold droplets rolled down her face. The rain also gave her privacy. No one saw her, or came to talk to her, wondering about a figure crouched in front of a grave stone in the rain.

It was a long time before she once again gathered herself, and with a renewed purpose made a beeline for the town cemetery. This time she didn't cry. But she found names she dreaded.

Phil... Renee... buried side by side. Of course they had never settled down after she left for Forks. Her mother's parents, or maybe Charlie must've decided to bring them back here. Her mother, irresponsible, forever youthful, insanely insightful. Gone.

Eric Yorkie, Ben Cheney, Jessica Stanley, Angela Weber... all gone too.

She scoured the graveyard twice for other names she recognized, but found no-one else. Until she came upon a grave that had been freshly dug. The headstone was already in place, even though the body had yet to be buried. She didn't recognize the name on the tombstone, what she did recognize was the date. Somehow... she'd lost almost ten years buried in that prison. Her mind reeled as she struggled to cope with the enormity of the revelation.

Eleven people dead already because of her. Seven dead as punishment for her own arrogance in trying to rise above her place in the food chain. Four more dead because she was thirsty. She kept cycling through her endless torment, and imagining her friends and family going through a similar hell. Victoria had kept her dreadful promise. She didn't even have to look to know that all of these dead could not have been coincidence. All of these dead because of her.

They were all taken from her while she was trapped in the ground for ten years. A feeling of helplessness washed through her, it felt so profound that her entire sense of self was shattered. That helplessness folded in on itself in to something horrible, something beyond hatred or anger. This new feeling took the breath from her dead lungs, and burned behind her eyes like the fires of Hell.

She sank to the ground. She had nowhere to go. No one to turn to, except this monstrous inhuman fury.

The blackness of this new fury made her still, burning away all her sympathy and heartache, leaving only guilt and rage. Until finally a strange clarity came to her, bringing with it an idea, a memory. Something he had mentioned once. A sharp hatred rose up at the very recollection of him this time. But she recalled that conversation he'd deemed to share with her about his fake father and the time he spent in Volterra, with the Volturi. The rulers of the vampire world, the only place vampires could go to die if they wished.

In her darkness, rage, and guilt... The final release of death was all that was all she wished.

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Her broken jaw was only the first of many injuries that followed. Her right arm was still tender when she woke up with a start from the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming. A sound that echoed in her nightmares practically every night. The door had been slammed so hard that the house shook slightly. She looked up from the couch in horror at the clock. She had fallen asleep in front of the TV and he was home. She stood up to run to her bedroom before he could see her, but her ten year old legs faltered and she tripped over her own feet, falling face first towards the hard tiled floor. Instinctively she threw out her arms to stop her fall, and a body shaking jolt of pain shot up her injured arm.

She started to scramble to her feet but his hand closed on her already sore arm and yanked her up. Her shoulder dislocated again with a dull pop as he spun her around to face him. "You thought you could stay up because I wasn't home?!" He half screamed, half slurred only inches from her face. She could smell the distinct scent of beer, cigarettes, and scotch on his breath. She'd learned that the different types of booze he drank had slightly different effects on his mood, this combination was the almost the worst.

"No, daddy I just fell asleep on the couch watching cartoons, I'm sorry!" She pleaded, but it didn't matter. She flinched before his hand even started to swing. The slap across her cheek tickled the place where her jaw had been broken, and not in a good way.

"Need to teach you a lesson just like your mother!" He snarled at her. He reached down and fumbled with the belt with his free hand, in awkward jerks he pulled it from around his waist. She wasn't sure what he was going to do but she didn't like the ugly look on his face.

He spent several seconds trying to fold the belt into a loop, before finally giving up and just folding it in half. Then he dragged her over to the couch and bent her over onto the cushions. He pulled her pajama bottoms down and then the first welt flared across her exposed skin. The resulting explosion of pain was something she knew well, but could never quite get used to. She couldn't hold in her shrieks, which only seemed to encourage him to keep going. Again, and again, and again. Involuntary tears welled up in her eyes, so she shut them hard to keep the moisture from falling down her hot cheeks.

After the fifth or fiftieth lash, she wasn't sure, he released her arm and she slid off the couch, trying desperately to reign in her uncontrollable sobs. "Crying!" He paused to snort a hard laugh. "Reminds me of your mother, you're a filthy little whore just like her aren't you? Keep it up and I'll really give you something to cry about!" She tried to pull her emotions inside, and wiped the tears from her face with her working forearm, but they still kept falling. He slapped her once to make her stop, but when it caused more tears to come he closed his fist. After the third punch he pulled back, and sighed. "Now get your hideous face out of my sight!" He didn't even bother looking at her as he turned and stumbled into the kitchen. She managed to get to her feet, but she had to hold onto every piece of furniture and wall for support.

Once she was back in her room she tried several times to pop her lose shoulder back in place until it finally did. She had to keep her mouth tightly closed around her silent screams. Then she crawled onto her thin mattress, which was covered in dirty sheets that he had refused to give her the quarters to wash. The miserable excuse for a bed was laying directly on the cold tile floor, which meant she could never seem to get warm in the winter. At nights she would shiver herself to sleep, wishing she still had Arnold to hold onto.

She slid under her meager covers, forced to lay on her stomach. Her bottom was still burning, and a little bloody. She wanted to wash off the blood, but didn't dare leave her room again. She wished she had some place to run to, or somewhere better to hide. She fantasized about running far away from him, but no one would help an ugly little whore like her. Even at school they treated her like the monster she knew she was, hideous and miserable. No wonder no one wanted to be her friend.

She listened with fear for any sort of follow-up, but it was clear after a while that he'd fallen asleep in his easy chair. Eventually she managed to drift into a restless sleep. The last thing she remembered thinking was that she wouldn't be able to go to school the next day since he hit her in the face again. The last time that happened a man came and talked to her dad and asked some questions and then told her dad he'd be back to check on her every week for three months. After the man left she got a paddling so hard that she couldn't sit down for two days. She wondered what the man would say tomorrow.

Her dreams drifted in and out of nightmares, until she found herself in the middle of a vast untouched forest enshrouded in thick shadows. A dark woman was staring at her curiously, her eyes were odd and frightening. She stood stock still like some kind of living statue, until she rushed towards her with a speed that couldn't be real. She flinched ready for the pain she was about to be subjected to, but instead she found herself being lifted into the air with that same unnatural speed. Then the woman let go, and she found herself flying. High above the clouds to places she knew she would never see in real life.

The descent back to the real world was a rough one. The girl ached everywhere, her face and backside the worst it had ever been. Her shoulder throbbed relentlessly, and he was standing over her looking furious. He gathered up the clothes she had folded in a corner of the floor, and then ordered her to follow him. The truck was already idling, and she knew what that meant. They were leaving again. He tossed her stuff in the cab, then practically threw her in after them. Once they were underway he turned and said, "If we have to move one more time because of you, I swear I'll kill you, you ungrateful little bitch."

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They walked through the cold curved corridors of Volterra together. The girl was clutching Isabella's arm like she were precious, as they passed by a seemingly endless series of heavy wooden doors. Felix and Demetri were escorting them, back to their rooms. No one was smiling, because the meeting with the Volturi Council they had just left had become extremely tense.

Less than an hour before, shortly after the three of them arrived in Volterra, Felix gave his report while Isabella and her pseudo-doppelganger stood there awaiting judgment. The girl hadn't let go of Isabella's arm since they'd left the hotel room in Rio and boarded the plane. She had to physically restrain the girl from panicking with the plane had taken off. Since they landed it was almost worse.

Isabella tried to talk to the girl, trying to coax her to say anything. But all she could get was a strange sense of emotions from the girl. She tensed up every time the girl sent a spike of fear or wonder through their bizarre connection, each new person, sight, sound, or scent was like a mini revelation.

Once Felix had finished his report, which was accurate as far as Isabella was concerned, the trio of Volturi royalty stared at them both thoughtfully, each with a slight different expression. Aro looked curious but undecided on what to do. Marcus, looked like he had a cursory interest in proceedings. The girl's circumstances were compelling enough for him to at least lift his attention from the fog he lived in.

Caius took almost no time before reacting, he sneered at the clear abomination in front of him. He glared at Isabella and ordered. "Destroy her."

When neither Aro or Marcus countermanded the order, Felix and Demetri both moved forward. They moved as one in an obvious attempt to restrain Isabella, so that the rest of the guards present could take care of the girl.

The moment they were in reach, Demetri found himself flying backwards, his feet skimming the polished marble floor to the far wall behind him over twenty feet away. Felix wasn't as lucky. He made the mistake of going for the girl instead of Isabella, before he knew what was happening he found himself staring up in shock, somehow imbedded six inches into the stone floor. Isabella's foot pressed into his neck with such strength that the sheer pressure was threatening to separate his head from his body.

Isabella snarled down at him, before looking up at Caius and snarling again. She was oblivious to the looks of astonishment that were directed at her. She only had one thought in her head; protect the girl, no matter the consequences. The room grew noticeably darker as she locked furious gazes with Caius, each silently daring the other to back down.

Neither of them did, It was Aro who had the presence of mind to defuse the situation. He called to Caius, worried that things were about to get very tricky. Astonished at how she'd just manhandled Felix, Aro was beginning to understand the potential prize he had in Isabella, and had to resist the urge to cry in triumph. "Come now, my impetuous brother. This is an interesting opportunity I think, I would say patience is best course of action right now."

He focused his attention on Isabella who was coiled up as tense as a spring. "I would like to see exactly what has occurred here, and I think discretion and further... investigation is in order before we do anything rash. Isabella dear, why don't you take your young charge in hand, get her settled in? She seems rather attached to you. We shall decide what further action, if any, needs to be taken. But not today."

Isabella held his gaze for several seconds, and a brief expression of surprise crossed Aro's face. Isabella had never seemed to care about anything before. The only exceptions were during training, and when he directed her at someone to kill. Her steely glare was warning enough for Aro to realize that the girl was non-negotiable. Realizing that the they were free to go, Isabella turned to take the girl to her quarters. Caius waved a hand and Demetri and Felix, still dusting themselves off, turned to join her.

They stood outside her room door as she led the girl inside. Her quarters were sparse, the walls were empty, and there was nothing resembling decoration of any kind. The furniture was simple, a desk with nothing on it, a dusty chair, an empty bookcase, and a dresser with a small TV on top of it that Isabella wasn't even sure worked anymore, since she'd never had the occasion or interest to use it. There was a two piece bathroom off the main room containing a big shower and a sink. In the large closet there were six copies of the same dark grey outfit she wore, hanging perfectly spaced apart. The empty space surrounding the simple garments continued the theme of the room, lifeless.

Despite the pointless of it, there was a large bed was in one corner. Something Isabella had never seen any reason for. She never understood why all the quarters in Volterra came equipped with a bed, since none of its residents slept. She almost never spent any time in the room. She came to shower, and change, then she went back to the training rooms. Given the amount of reserves and hopefuls the Voltrui had, she was almost never bereft of sparring partners.

She showed the still silent girl around the quarters briefly, taking her into the bathroom to show her the shower. The shower sparked some familiarity in the girl. Isabella had shown her the shower at the hotel they'd had where they found her. Isabella had spent almost three hours coaxing her in and getting her clean. This time the girl seemed almost eager. She began stripping out of her clothing. Isabella gave her an encouraging nod before retreating to the other room.

She'd gotten to the doorway when a small voice stopped in mid-step. The voice was filled with hesitation and questioning. It sent a shiver through Isabella, and sparked something long dead inside of her. The girl's tone was heartbreaking, but there was an unmistakable underlying tone of hope.

"Muh...moth…. Mother?"

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He had never been stupid enough to hit her in the face again. Not that it was any better, she racked up several broken bones and enough bruises to cover her entire body twice over.

Yet even when she thought had suffered through it all, he began to get more violent.

He had been getting worse for months. Since right before her fifteenth birthday. Over the five years since they moved, she had gotten pretty good at avoiding his beatings. Enough that she only had to patch herself up once or twice every couple of weeks. Those final few months however, his outbursts ramped up to two or three times a week. It was like he was looking for ways to punish her. He wouldn't even have to be drunk, merely crossing his path in the house was enough to earn her a shove at the very least.

The straw that broke the camel's back came the night before she decided to run. He had come home drunk again, smelling of Tequila. She was sound asleep, and was awakened when he wrapped his hands around her ankles pulled her out of bed. She realized instantly what was about to happen and did her best to remain limp, because the beatings weren't as bad if she cooperated. This time though, instead of hitting her, he slurred out "Come here…. give Dad a kiss."

She noticed that the Tequila wasn't the only thing he was on, and his eyes were glassy and a bit wide and wild. She braced herself for the first wave of abuse, only to flinch when he tried to kiss her. The flinch was enough to stoke his anger, and in response his hand closed around her neck. He leaned into her as he started to choke her, as he began to scream in her face. "You think you're too good for me? You rotten little whore, just like your mother! I'll teach you!"

Then inexplicably he stood and threw her into a nearby wall before stomping of towards the kitchen. She thought it was only luck, but the soft mutters coming from him frightened her more than anything she had ever heard him say. Except for that night, the night her mother disappeared. She curled back under her covers, and resolved right then and there to leave. She wasn't sure she'd survive another encounter like that. She didn't even want to think about the other possibility.

After he was dead to the world, she grabbed up her book bag and stuffed all her clothes into it. Then she took all the money she had kept from not eating lunch, and everything in father's stash that he kept hidden in his room under his mattress. Those few minutes, sneaking into his room and stealing his money were the most exhilarating and frightening of her life. Then she was away, off to the bus depot at the crack of dawn. She hoped he would sleep until way after she was supposed to be in school.

She bought a ticket to the farthest destination available for the cheapest price, Fairbanks, Alaska. Then she waited nervously for the bus to arrive. She was finally doing it, finally getting away. She was actually eager for the journey for once. She knew it wouldn't be easy, she'd have to find a minimum wage job and work hard, but she was hopeful she could find something no matter how menial.

She looked up when she heard the announcement for her departure. She got on looking forward to the future for the first time. She didn't know what was coming, but she was sure of one thing; no matter what lay ahead for her, it couldn't be worse than what she was leaving behind.

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She was leaping across rooftops, her quarry ahead of her by only a few well placed leaps.

There had been reports of disturbances in London for over three weeks. The Volturi had sent them to take care of the problem. As a team they had racked up quite a body count, mostly newborns but at least two that were far older, at least that's what Eliza thought from the way they dressed. Isabella was confident that they had decimated most of the coven already in the short three days since they arrived.

They had tracked the two vampires on the second night, but lost them in a crowd coming out of a theater. An hour ago they finally caught up with the two rogues. They didn't hestitate to bolted off in opposite directions as soon as they had seen the approaching Volturi. Isabella didn't need to order her daughter to act, she immediately broke up after the one that had gone left, Isabella gave chase to the other one.

Eliza's prey was a fast one, and seemed to know the rooftop terrain very well. Despite being able to move faster, she had to waste time navigating the tricky foot placement and oddly angled rooftops, so she was only making small gains on him. Then she felt a surge of savage satisfaction coming from her mother, and knew that she had caught her vampire and had dispensed with him.

Eliza felt her mother connect to her directly, knowing she was seeing through her eyes just urged her on. She was closing in on the vampire ahead of her, when instead of jumping to the next rooftop he suddenly and unexpectedly jumped to the ground three stories below.

She got to the edge of the roof and saw that he'd ripped a manhole cover off. She caught a glimpse of him disappearing into a sewer below. She didn't hesitate, and leapt down angling her descent so she would fall through the hole directly into the sewer.

Isabella's voice echoed in hers a moment too late, "No! Don't!"

She ignored the warning, intent on catching her vampire too. She braced for her landing and landed with a splash of stagnant filthy water spraying all over her newly purchased outfit. She knew wearing it was a mistake, she just hadn't considered the possibly of getting coated in poo. She shook off the minor irritation, and listened for her prey. After less than a second she heard the vampire running down an adjacent pipe, and without hesitation launched herself after him.

"Eliza, wait for me." Her mom's voice called in her head.

"No. I've got this." She sent back to her mother, using one of her mother's favorite phrases. She plowed on ahead, getting closer to the fleeing vampire. He pushed his legs to move faster. Then he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Volturiiiii" fear quaking his voice causing him to sound strangled and desperate.

He made several abrupt turns, using the twisty nature of their surroundings to keep a few meters ahead of her. Then he went through a doorway opening up into a much large space. Eliza smiled, she could easily close the gap in there. The room was a convergence of several pipes, but for some reason the other pathways were all blocked off by grates. He had trapped himself, and she smiled even wider knowing he's have to stop and rip off one of those grate to get away.

He stopped in the center of the space, and turned towards her with a look of defeat on his face. She slowed down from a run to a deliberately paced stride, using her posture to threaten the trapped vampire. She was determined that her first enforcement kill be done with style. Then as soon as she crossed the threshold his expression shifted into a sadistic smile. Instantly she knew something was wrong.

Without warning she felt pain explode of across the back of her head, the attack had come from behind. She groaned inwardly, she should've realized it was an ambush. She stumbled forward from the impact, but before she could recover, a similar series of equally painful impacts hit on several places all over her body. The first slammed into her shoulder, then the left side of her chest, another at the backs of her knees, and the final one across the small of her back. Together they forced her to the ground, and onto her hands and knees.

It occurred to her that just because they'd found evidence of only two vampires left in the coven didn't mean they weren't masking their numbers. She looked up to see she was surrounded by seven vampires, three of them had a grip on her effectively pinning her in place. It was at that point she knew without a doubt that she was in over her head. She snarled in fury at the feeling of being restrained; twisting and writhing in an attempt to dislodge the grips on her. The feeling drudged up an unpleasant association to her time with Joham, and an itching sensation of panic began to tear down her ability to think rationally.

"Volturi bitch! Gonna take care of you and then go after your partner next." The vampire she'd been chasing, snarled at her as his foot lashed out in a vicious kick to her right cheek. Her head jerked to the side from the impact, the skin on her cheek cracking slightly from the impact

"We don't have time to waste, just kill her." One of the others pressed calmly.

The vampire she'd been chasing hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to do more to punish his pursuer. Common sense seemed to war with his need for revenge, and he dithered for a few moments before common sense seemed to win out. He raised his fists over his head, interlacing his fingers, clearly intent on bringing them down in one smashing blow that would end her life without further effort. That was as far as he got though.

He had them at the apex of his attack when Isabella arrived with a roar of rage. Two of the vampires pinning Eliza down were flung away from her and into opposite walls. Then with brutal precision she grabbed the arms of vampire threatening her daughter and delivered one devastating kick to his chest, sending him flying back against the farthest wall, though his arms stayed in Isabella's iron grip.

Eliza didn't waste any time acting against the only one still holding her down, she rolled throwing him off of her and continued in one fluid movement back to her feet. The second she was upright her mother was pressing her attack to the three standing around with stunned expressions on their faces. Her own attacks were slightly more tentative as she recovered from being held down.

She barely heard the screams of panic and pain as the two of them decimated the remaining vampires. Her mother took down the lion's share, killing four of them while she took the remaining two. Torso boy was try to roll back to his arms and legs when Eliza caught up with him. Smashing his head in with a satisfying stomp.

Her mother didn't say anything as they surveyed the bodies. She let the silence stretch as long as she could while the two of them set fire to the bodies. It wasn't until they were walking out of the sewers that she finally got tired of the silence.

"Mother... aren't you going to scold me or reprimand me?" She asked, ready for anything.

Her mother tilted her head curiously, "Scold you, why would I do that?"

Her jaw unhinged, "What do you mean 'why would you do that'? I ignored your warning. I chased him into the sewer. I wasn't aware of my surroundings, I was overconfident. I got blindsided by an unexpected group of vampires. They caught me off guard and pinned me. They might have managed to kill me. I was lucky you got there in time. And you're not going to scold me?!"

She wasn't sure which she was more bothered by. The fact that she had let those things happen, or the fact that her mother didn't seem to care enough to reprimand her. Her mother's statement brought her up short, and she put her hand on her hip waiting for a reason that didn't offend her need for parental worry.

"There's no point. You obviously know what you did wrong. Yelling at you will do no good. I thought you were ready to be trusted if the need to split up arose on a mission, as it did tonight. Apparently, I was mistaken. For the immediate future, you are not to split off from me until I'm sure you're able to be responsible for yourself. Charging blindly after someone like a bull at any red flag will get you killed." Isabella's voice was calm, and factual, despite the anger Eliza could feel through their connection.

Eliza felt the sting of the rebuke, she hated the idea that her mother didn't trust her alone anymore, but the brief almost clinical statement of fact was almost worse than any scolding that she could have imagined her mother coming up with.

She hesitated a few more moments before quickstepping up to catch up with her mother who hadn't stopped when she did. "I'm sorry. Thank you for being there for me."

Her mother nodded her head, her voice calm. "Noted." She considered her daughter for a moment, and then she gave Eliza a look devoid of humor, "If you really want to be scolded, how about this. If I lost you I would tear this town apart, I would do my best to rend the world in two to destroy every last vampire. You are the single most important thing in my life." Her smile softened into a bit of a grin. "Now, I think that fulfills my parental obligation to lecture you. I would give you a reassuring hug, but you're covered in sewage."

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She was so cold, even colder than those nights sleeping on that miserable bed on the tile floor. She was curled up in the fetal position next to a dumpster. The dumpster and the wall of the building kept the cold wind off of her partially but it didn't help with the rain. The dirty faded tarp she found helped with the rain to a degree, but did nothing to keep her warm. The cardboard helped a little with the warmth, but nowhere near enough.

She had looked everywhere for a job. Willing to take on any chore or any task if someone had given her half a chance. Only no one wanted to take on a fifteen year old in ragged clothing. No one wanted to hire an ugly homeless street urchin.

Necessity forced her to learn to steal and forage for food. She wasn't proud of it, but she was determined to survive. That resolve was waning though, the bitter cold sapping her will to live. It was December and she hadn't been prepared for the frigid Alaska nights. If she hadn't been so desperate to escape she might have thought about going somewhere warmer.

Unfortunately since the homeless shelter was full she had nowhere else to go. She was close to turning herself into social services, but she was afraid she'd end up in a place with someone like her father, or worse they'd send her back to him. Her fingers and toes were numb, and she had started to shiver uncontrollably. She wondered if she'd make it through the night without freezing to death, or worse losing a hand or foot to frostbite.

"Hey there, are you okay?" a male voice said.

She looked up to see a pale stranger standing above her. He was a very handsome boy, but he had the… strangest dark eyes, the irises looked almost completely black. They reminded her of that dream she had so many years ago. It made her want to trust him, was he going to lift her up and out of this new nightmare? She nodded her head, but her teeth were chattering too much to form any sort of coherent reply.

"You look cold, and hungry. Why don't you let me get you a bite to eat, a burger or something?" He gave her a strange look, which countered the friendly smile plastered to his face. Then he held out a hand to her.

She looked back and forth between the hand and his face several times before reaching out to accept his offer. It struck her as a little weird that her cold fingers couldn't feel any difference in body temperature between them. His hand felt harder than normal, and his grip reminded her of her father's.

He kept the strange discordant smile on his face, as he pulled her to her feet. Then he turned tugged her with him, "Let's go get you that bite."

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Author's brief note: If you made it through this chapter, please take the time to write a review. before reading the next one. We'd like to know how we did tackling such dark topics and themes.

We posted them at the same time so that if you were uncomfortable with the idea of reading such themes you could skip this without feeling obligated to read it. (rather than post them separately, for the max amount of reviews)

Thank you.