A/N: Again, major content warning for violence and talk of suicide.

Thanks so much for all of the reviews so far! I've appreciated your positive comments and interest in the story so, so much! I was worried when it came to posting something with such graphic content but the response has really urged me to keep going! Also, all of the feedback here has given me the confidence to return to my BDSM story "Under My Thumb." So, be on a lookout for those updates!

HUGE thanks to Sally! Thanks so much for editing this! (Note: she edited my last chapter as well! So, if you want to read it again, knowing it's free of errors, please do!)

~ Captured ~

There were times when degradation felt delicious, but now, it made her eyes tear up. The violence felt so real in her dream—or nightmare, really—that when she woke up, her fists were moving, ready to fight the mysterious monster who had pinched her nipples until they bled. Awake now and sputtering—shaking against the cold, frigid air—Bella tried to keep her eyes opened enough to look around. There were objects around her that should've looked familiar, but, in her haze, they all looked like gray bits of mush. Only when the drugs wore off and she became more lucid did she realize those gray, hazy-looking blobs on the ground were chains piled up as if they were waiting for something to shackle.

Then she started to notice the groans and wavering screams. As her consciousness came back slowly like a rising sun beginning to peak over the horizon, she listened and thought, these screams probably used to be loud. Now, they're the sounds of someone losing hope.

That thought made her almost dizzy. How long would someone have to be in a place like this—a place that looked like some sort of torture chamber or dungeon with its bleak interior and prison-like cells—before their hope begins to fade away? Days? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years?

No, not years, she decided. No one could possibly last that long … could they?

Her vision became more focused as the minutes ticked by, and soon, everything around her became completely clear. As soon as it did, she wished that her vision would go away again. Being blind would be far better than seeing this.

The word atrocity wouldn't even begin to describe what surrounded her. Already, her mind wanted to block it all out. Even if she closed her eyes though, she couldn't escape the truth. She could hear it … Even worse, she could smell it. She breathed in fecal matter and rotting meat. The backs of her eyes began to burn as she moved to lean forward on her knees as her stomach turned.

When was the last time I ate? she thought as she dry heaved over the dirty pavement. How long have I been down here? How long have I been asleep? There was something cool against her ankle, feeling like steel against her flesh. She turned her head to peer down at the offending object, finding her ankle shackled. Her eyes followed the chain, finding it linked to the gray wall behind her.

Her eyes roamed then as she choked on another dry heave. Next to her, in the cell to her right, there was a girl lying down lifelessly. Please be asleep. Please just be asleep. The girl's body was bruised and covered in bite marks. It was as if a whole hoard of animals had feasted on her before deciding to leave her alone, giving her a break before they came back for her flesh.

"Hey," Bella whispered, too timid to call out to her at first. When the girl didn't move, Bella increased her volume, saying, "Hey," again.

There was no movement. The girl was still … so still that she looked more like a doll than a human. Bella's eyes narrowed as she looked for any sign of a breath. Nothing moved however, causing Bella's stomach to twist. Suddenly, she had to piss—a nervous habit that she hadn't been able to shake her entire life. Pressing her thighs together, she tried to just will the need away. Unfortunately, the body didn't work like that, and everything flowed out of her before she could stop it.

Shame overwhelmed her, and she continued to press her thighs together even when she became sticky and drenched. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she didn't have to worry about her piss-stained pants irritating her skin. She, like every person in here, was naked. The more she looked around, the more people she found, sitting in different cells in various stages of meeting the end.

While some looked as if they had just gotten locked away like she had, others looked as if they had been trapped for a long time. The newer additions to this hellscape seemed like the fighters of the bunch. They were still loud—violently screaming and looking for a way out. The quiet ones had obviously been down here the longest, accepting their fate and giving up.

Or maybe they just know something the new additions don't, Bella considered. Maybe it's better to stay quiet and go unnoticed—scope it all out before making a decision regarding what to do. So, before a sound could escape her again, she decided to watch what was happening to everyone else. Besides, what would sound really do? Obviously, they were in a place where no one would think to come looking for them.

Bella closed her eyes as she listened to the screams, echoing in the room from spots close to her to those far away. In an attempt at shutting them out, Bella focused her mind on fantasy, trying to immerse herself in thoughts regarding her favorite fiction reads or awe-inspiring TV shows. Anything to get her mind off the present. After a few moments, her thoughts began to wander back to last night—or whenever her sexual encounter with that cold, handsome man had happened. She tried not to think of the timing too much, knowing the mystery surrounding the date would only cause her turmoil.

With her eyes closed, she imagined his hands on her. This time, however, the hands weren't doing anything sexual. Instead, they were reaching out to wrap her in an embrace. In her mind, he was pulling her toward him, breathing in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair as she breathed in his scent, a distinct smell of sweat, pine, and tobacco. With her ear against his chest, she would listen for his heartbeat, wanting the steady pattern to comfort her. However, regardless of how intent she listened, there was no such sound.

Her eyes shot open before she could imagine anything else. The night they'd fucked, he held her—just for a moment, he had pulled her close enough to listen to a heartbeat. The comfort she would usually find in such an action was non-existent. With her head against his chest, she felt as if she were being cuddled by a corpse.

The screams were attracting attention now. There was a staircase in the corner of the room which Bella only noticed as the door at the very top of the staircase opened, letting some light trickle in. Wanting to take advantage of the new light, Bella quickly looked around again, wanting to get a better look at the room.

No wonder it smells like shit … With no proper toilet, there were feces and piss everywhere, basically covering the spots on the floor that weren't already occupied by a bloodstain. While most of the people in the cells were sitting up, there were at least four people lying down. None of them seemed to be breathing.

One of the four bodies lying on the ground faced her. It was a girl, probably mid-to-late-twenties, with brown hair and a hooked nose. She was pretty despite her ashen face. Where have I seen this girl before? Bella wondered as the face looked more familiar with every second that she looked at it. Did we go to school together, or did we work together or … When the source of the familiarity finally hit her, she could barely breath.

No … it can't be. Holy fuck. It can't be her.

This was Sheryl Spencer, one of the girls who had recently gone missing in the area. Bella couldn't remember the exact details of the ad but did remember that it said the girl was in her late twenties and stood at about five feet four inches in height. As Bella looked at her, she seemed to match this description. Could it really be her?

Then her eyes moved to the other bodies, cold and contorted, as well as the people hunched down, almost looking as if they were praying. Were they praying to God? Pleading for some higher power to come down from the sky to pull them out of this hellscape? Never had Bella felt jaded in her life, but now, as she saw so many battered faces still full of hope, she wondered how she matched up.

Bile rose to her tongue, resting there against her taste buds as she began to recognize more faces. All the people that went missing … all the people who had died … they were all down here. Beneath society's surface, all the bodies piled up.

A man came down the steps, moving slowly and leisurely, as if time were waiting for him. Instinctively, Bella covered herself, putting one arm across her breasts and putting the other between her legs. The man didn't look at her though; instead, he moved toward a man hovering in the corner of the room.

The man walking was one she hadn't seen before. With shoulder length blond hair and a pale face, he looked like the others while being uniquely beautiful. Beautiful felt like the wrong term though. While he was traditionally handsome—beautiful even with his bone structure—he seemed too sinister to be truly attractive. It was like the appearances of these men—the pale ones with the cold skin—were beautiful just to attract prey. Like their perfect skin and flawless features were a result of something evolutionary. The idea of that made her skin crawl.

The man on the ground had features that she couldn't entirely make out, for he was curled up in a fetal position, trying to lean away from the danger moving toward him despite his chains. The blond man crouched down in front of him, and his lips turned into a teasing smile before his tongue darted out, skimming his nether lip before revealing his fangs.

The blond man said something to the quivering one, letting his hand drift along the man's jaw, teasing his pulse and the unkept hair that had formed there after probably weeks of imprisonment. Bella watched as the quivering man's eyes widened, frightened by whatever the blond had said to him. Now, the man on the ground's face was tilted upward, staring at the blond with spite.

"I'm not a dog," the man on the ground said loud enough for her to hear before spitting into the blond's face.

This only seemed to excite the man as he let his tongue sneak out to lap up the spit that had fallen near the corner of his lip. Then the blond smiled, seeming delighted by the man's disobedience. With a smirk, the blond grabbed the other man by the shoulders and pulled him close, kissing his face as if he were checking his meal for taste. The man on the ground shuddered, trying to lean away from the kiss. The blond persisted though, not caring about what his dinner was feeling.

In a last effort to be brave, the man used all of his strength to push the monster in front of him away. The blond barely budged, laughing at the efforts of the soon to be corpse. With a grin that showed just enough teeth to be uncanny, the blond's tongue darted out and licked the skin of the man's cheek. Then, he pulled back his arm, balling his hand up into a fist before punching the man on the ground in the face, breaking the skin of his cheek. Now that the man was bleeding, he licked again, lapping up the blood as if he were a little kitten slurping milk.

Despite the fear evident in the man's eyes, which could even be seen far away in the darkness, he didn't cry or scream out. Right now, the man on the ground's face was eerily still, almost as if he were under some sort of spell. The blond was speaking to him again, saying something in a low tone, as he leaned into his ear and let his breath tickle the man's skin. The man's expression was changing now—from fear to acceptance to, surprisingly, lust. The blond took him into his embrace, licking and sucking on the man's neck as his hand traveled down the front of the man's body, finding the limp cock resting on his thigh.

Within a few pumps, the man was hard. The blond stroked him, enjoying the growing cock in his hands as he sucked on the man's neck, teasing his pulse. The man's breathing became more and more labored, and as his skin flushed, suggesting that orgasm was near, the blond finally bit.

At first, one would barely notice the biting taking place at all. Despite his sinister demeanor, the blond sucked like a dainty, little girl. It wasn't until the blood started to drip down that Bella even knew he was feeding. As one droplet of blood escaped the blonde's mouth and created a line that trailed down toward the man's collarbone, the blond pulled away, almost so quickly that Bella missed it, and lapped up the escaped blood with his tongue, cleaning up his mess before he wrapped his mouth around the man's artery again and began to drink again.

The man on the ground's skin, which had been flushed with desire moments ago, was now turning pale. Still, the blond continued to play with his cock, almost as if he wanted to give the man one final orgasm before death. Bella couldn't tear her eyes away, unable to comprehend what was happening before her. The blond was getting off as he killed, finding the light escaping the man's eyes to be orgasmic.

To her surprise, the blond brought the man to orgasm and cum trailed down his hand before he pulled away, letting the man's cock fall back to his thigh, before wiping his cum-covered hand against the man's now graying flesh. As all the cum was off of him, the blond reached into his own pants, beginning to play with himself as the man slowly began to die in his embrace.

This is what death due to blood loss looks like, Bella thought as tears pricked her eyes, threatening to fall. While she had done plenty of research for her books, even looking at photos of crime scenes, it was nothing like seeing it and smelling it in person. This was something indescribable with words. Some things in life just had to be felt.

She wanted to scream for the man. She wanted to fight back. However, something, perhaps the will to live and continue to survive in this hellhole, kept her quiet as the man began to fade away. There would be a time to fight back, but that time wasn't now. She needed to stay silent and watch, judging what was happening before making a decision as to what to do. That was the best plan of action, wasn't it? Making a game plan of how to save her own life.

As the man on the ground released his final breath, the blond let go of him, wiping his mouth with one hand as he continued to stroke himself with the other. Soon, his own cum came, bursting out of him like blood from a severed artery. The cum landed on the man's dead body before the blond stood up and faced the entire room, cock still out, although limp now.

Some looked at him, some didn't bother, and some, knowing what the image in front of them would be like, kept their gazes purposefully downcast. Bella, unlike the rest, kept her gaze steady, looking at the man in front of her as though she was unperturbed. She didn't want to show weakness. Especially not so early on.

What if he likes that? What if it presents more of a challenge for him? He'll break me, rape me, and then devour me until I'm dead. Then, she was almost dry heaving, using all of her strength to stop herself before she put on a show for the murderer in front of her.

The man from before—the cruel-looking one with pale skin and long, dark hair—Aro, she believed his name was, came down the stairs and entered the room, moving to stand beside the blond. Aro took one look at the blond and one look at his flaccid cock before smirking and looking toward the corner where the freshly dead body lay limp.

"I'm hungry tonight too," Aro said in a clear voice that would sound almost charming if it wasn't so venomous.

These men were expert killers in the way they calmly acted, as if the act of murder presented no challenge anymore. As she looked at them, she couldn't shove away the uncanny feeling that overwhelmed her. They may look like humans but were far from it. They seemed like alien beings in a human suit, and it made her want to shrivel up.

"Where do you want to start first, brother?" the blond asked, waving his hand to display the options in front of them.

Aro licked his lips, looking from person to person with a sly, almost flirtatious smile. "You've picked well, brother. I thought you were saving Travis for me. I was looking forward to him …"

The blond pouted, reaching an arm out to wrap around his brother. Could they even be brothers … they both look so different. Their features aren't at all similar. The only thing that is similar is that horrible aura around them. That pale, cold skin too …

"There are others," the blond said, acknowledging the few other men in the room with a wave of his hand. "And, I can always find more. Attractive men are easy to find around the city."

"He was mine," Aro bit out before sighing and scanning the room as if he were trying to find someone else who was equally appealing. "But you're right. There are others."

Slipping out of the blonde's loose embrace, Aro moved through the room, eyeing each captured human as if he were selecting a packaged meat at the market. Most of the captives were quiet, avoiding eye contact as he passed them by. Aro seemed bored with them, seemingly wanting something more lively tonight. Perhaps that's why he wanted the man so badly; he knew he would have been a delightful challenge.

There was a woman cowering on the floor, looking no older than her mid-twenties as she tried to hide her face and cry. The way she quivered in fear seemed to interest Aro more than anything else. He seemed to want someone who would beg for their survival. He treated tears as if they were worth thousands each.

"Aw, you poor dear," he said as he crouched down to pet her head, treating her like a frightened animal. "You've had it rough down here, haven't you?"

He didn't bother with a sympathetic tone, keeping his voice light and taunting instead. This was a game to them. An entertaining board game with humans instead of plastic pieces. To whatever they were, human life was meaningless. So, they took what they wanted, never feeling grief or remorse or sorrow.

Aro seemed downright delighted as he felt the weight of the woman's breast in his hand, using his overgrown fingernails to play with her nipple. The woman shuddered, trying to pull her body away from him with the little strength that she could muster. He laughed at this, seemingly wondering why on earth she would try to evade him. Despite the confusion regarding her efforts, he seemed even more delighted by the way she still tried to protect herself—almost as if she didn't realize she was naked and dirty, covered in her own urine and feces.

A small groan escaped her lips, coming out of her mouth in mewling vibrations. She shuddered, trying her best to appear strong. Would it be better if she seemed helpless? Would that get him to leave her alone? She wouldn't be half as interesting if she wasn't trying to protect whatever was left of her dignity. Although Bella recognized how much easier it would be for the woman if she acted as though she had just given up, she understood why the woman didn't want to. Why give up your last shred of hope when you're bound to die anyway? Does acceptance really make anything easier?

When my time comes, will I be any different? As Aro pushed the woman onto the ground and spread her legs, Bella's eyes began to water. This was the first time the thought of not making it out of here passed her mind. Up until now, she had surveyed the scene as if this was something she would escape from and write about. Her eyes had scanned for faces from missing person posters as if she were going to get up, unshackle herself, and go report back to authorities. Never had she imagined ending up like one of the bloodied, lifeless bodies on the ground.

Reality always seemed like it was reserved for someone else. Hardships and horrors never felt like something that could hit close to home. Even now, with true horror only inches away, it didn't feel as though it belonged to her. No … things like this were never for the main character, and every day up until today, she had felt like the main character in her own life.

What will my death look like? Will it be as gruesome as the rest? Will I go out fighting … or just wallowing in my own fucking misery? Will I be happy when death comes, or will I still have some sort of will to live?

While watching the girl now pressed against the ground, losing her will more and more by the minute, Bella's stomach turned. Whatever food was left in her stomach rose to her throat. She choked, trying to breathe through her nose as the vomit made its way to rest on her tongue.

I won't be like this … I can't be like this … I just can't! Mind rushing a mile a minute, Bella almost forgot to breathe. Perhaps it would be a good thing to forget. What an easier way to die … just forgetting to breathe. So much easier than this.

The woman cried out, clawing at the ground as the monster—because that's what he was, a monster rather than a man—penetrated her. Aro showed the woman no mercy, embarrassing her in front of his blond brother as he laughed rather than moan, the latter being something Bella would likely expect from sex like this.

This wasn't sex to them, however. This was just a joke. The bodies lying about were no better than piles of meat—human sex dolls at best. As the woman began to truly cry, tears streaming down as if they were escaping of their own accord, Aro bit into her, letting just enough blood escape to frighten the ones around her who were stupid enough to watch.

Bella's eyes were one of the many pairs Aro must have felt. It seemed that the attention delighted him, and sensing this, she wanted to look away but couldn't bring herself to. Tearing herself away from a moment like this felt wrong. If she did get out, which seemed less and less likely, she wanted to have a clear picture as to what happened here. That way, she could do the victims justice, retelling their stories to the best of her ability.

"Victims" … God, I talk about them like I'm not one of them. I'm acting like I'm some privileged observer—a fly on the wall, knowing she'll never be faced with her turn. Maybe today, I just wasn't loud enough. Maybe, I didn't have the aesthetic they yearned for … Maybe, I just didn't look like a good enough snack. Who knows what their tastes will be like tomorrow. After all, I don't want the same boring meal every day of the week. Weekday ramen only tastes so good for so long. It satisfies the hunger but probably doesn't taste as good as a juicy steak.

Oh, God … What the hell is wrong with me? Just a few days down here—I mean, it has been a few days, right? Maybe a day? Maybe more? What day of the week is it, even? What time of day is it? Morning, noon, or night? Does time even exist down here? Is this hell? Did I die and go straight to hell?

Fuck, I'm losing my mind. Already, I'm losing my grip. I'm talking about these people as if they were food. Comparing women to ramen … I'm fucked up. Already, I'm fucked up. Just as bad as these monsters, using everyone as pocket pussies and human juice boxes.

Bella rubbed her face, wanting to scratch at her pores until she bled too. Unfortunately, her nails were too short, and she had just enough of her sanity left. How much longer would she stay like that though? Sane enough not do something horrid, too. How long would her nails stay short and stubby? When they grew out—if they could grow out before someone came for her, marking her last day—would she harm herself? Would she try to claw at her throat until she did enough damage to die?

With every second, she was done there, every second that she watched the woman before her being raped, she felt herself slipping. One moment, she was in true crime writer mode, trying to memorize every detail so no victim would be forgotten. Another moment, she was fantasizing about her own death, no longer wanting to escape.

Escape would mean living with this. Could she even manage that? These images would never leave her mind. Every night, they would no doubt plague her. Was living worth it if life meant misery?

"Brother, you're messy tonight. This is unlike you," the blond said with a smirk as he crossed the room to kneel next to Aro. "Do you need my help."

The woman was face down now with her hair pushed over one shoulder, leaving the right side of her neck exposed. Aro was on top of her with his pants bunched around his knees, positioned between her opened legs as he lapped at her neck.

The blond watched him with an expression that almost looked loving—like one a proud parent would bestow upon a child. Considering the situation, seeing such an expression made Bella choke and her mouth opened just enough to allow a dribble of bile to escape.

Who the hell are these people? How could they do this? How is anyone capable of something like this?

"Should I join you, brother? Can I join and taste, too? With the way you're hogging her, she must taste especially delicious."

Aro lifted his mouth from the woman's neck to smile at his brother. "I think I've found another singer."

Singer? Before Bella could begin to question what that was, she watched in horror at Aro moved aside just enough to allow his brother to have a taste.

The woman was no longer screaming. Instead, it seemed like she was waiting for death. As both began to feast, she began to pray. Quietly at first, but then her voice became louder as she became unrestrained. No longer did she care who heard her. Death was on the horizon, and she and everyone else in the room knew that all too well. There was no point in hiding anymore. There was no point in being afraid. So, she prayed until they drained her dry, leaving her on the floor to rot away like the rest.

"You were messy, too, this time, Caius," Aro told the blond, smiling as he wiped the last bit of blood from his mouth.

They both seemed like dainty eaters. If this was them being messy, Bella wondered if they usually fed unnoticed. Did they do such things in public without raising a brow or any sign for alarm? Was it possible?

As both men left, Bella knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning. Although time began to feel like a foreign concept, Bella could keep track of the days surrounding the men's feeding schedule. It seemed like at least one of them came in, what she believed to be, the morning time, and one came at night. When two feedings happened, Bella figured that a single day had passed.

Pretty soon, she knew their schedule by heart and wondered if they awoke and slept at the same time every day. That is, if they awoke and slept at all. According to her calculations, it would seem that two weeks had passed. Those two weeks had consisted of more terror than she could ever put into words. If she did get out of here, no amount of effort would do justice to what she had witnessed; despite being a writer for years, she felt ill equipped to produce anything surrounding this case. Perhaps she was too close to it, causing her to have a different view than a normal reporter. Even when a reporter thought they were divulging all the gory details, it was nothing compared to this.

This was a hellhole best fitted for works from the Marquis de Sade. The 120 Days of Sodom felt like something broadcasted on the Disney Channel compared to the horrors she had witnessed in the past fourteen and a half days. Every day down here meant death. Watching death. Smelling death. Breathing death in as if it were part of the air. Bella felt like death. She felt covered in it, and despite her nails growing longer, no amount of rubbing and scratching made it feel as if death were going away.

Still, she tried. Her typically pale as a ghost skin was now red and irritated, covered in scratches as if she had been battling starved alley cats for bowls of food. Sometimes, there would be blood, and she'd cover it up, worried that the sight of it would attract too much attention. Then other times, she wanted the attention, yearning for death as if it were an old, favorite lover of hers.

This morning—at least, what she imagined was the morning—she had witnessed another death. This time, it had been someone brand new. Someone Aro had captured and brought down no more than two days ago. The man had been blond and tan and seemed to have a swimmer's build. Already, Bella was learning Aro's type: strong, lean, and athletic, with an All-American boy sort of flavor.

For the first time since arriving, Caius had come down the steps with "breakfast" for everyone. Perhaps everyone was becoming too thin and unappealing, so he had someone go out to buy some bread and cheese. Normally, the appearance of the bread and cheese would have made Bella sick. It looked like something found in the garbage rather than something purchased at a market in town. However, after days without food and her brain barely able to function, it looked like something created by a five-star chef.

They had been fed at night, but never regularly. It was a sort of "if they're lucky" sort of thing. As if they were somehow being rewarded for "good behavior." After an eye-roll, Bella grabbed the bread and began to eat. Now, her bites had become more and more like gnawing. She imagined she looked too feral to be human. Enough time shackled could make anyone feel like an animal.

"Today's a special day," Caius said with a beam.

No matter what expression he chose, Caius was sinister. Whether smiling or displaying a neutral face, he chilled Bella to the bone, making her feel helpless every time he looked at her. Over the course of the past few days, he had looked at her a lot. So much so that she feared what was coming. Now, as she sat in her own piss from this morning, she watched him watch her.

His eyes moved over her pale frame before pausing at her nipples. His lips drew into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes; those were dead and calculating. After she suppressed a shiver, she continued to eat, becoming more and more voracious about it. Now, she wanted more than anything to look like an animal. She let some of the bread dangle from her mouth, hanging between teeth like torn skin.

Her aim was to disgust, but in reality, this only excited Caius. Whatever he was about to say was no longer important as he dropped off the rest of the bread and went to her. She held her breath as he kneeled down at her side and brushed back her hair. Her neck was exposed now, but she continued to eat, wanting to seem as unbothered as possible.

Hot breath tickled her skin, and regardless of her repulsion, her body had a response of its own. Her nipples became erect, and her flesh was covered in a light brushing of goosebumps. Caius noticed this, of course, and gave a delighted neck before letting his tongue dart out and skim the flesh of her neck.

"Even dirty, you're pretty," he murmured before kissing her pulse and standing up. "You're lucky that I just fed. I'll save you for tonight then."

Within an instant, her eyes were filled with tears. She managed to hide them long enough for him to turn and begin to walk away. Then, as his back faced her, she let a few of them seep. The tears trailed down her dirty cheeks before brushing across her jawline, and then falling to the ground. They smeared with the grime as soon as they hit the pavement and left a streak behind, showing a lighter color of gray than she had been looking at over the course of the past few weeks.

The difference made her cry harder for whatever reason. The tears weren't ones that she could begin to understand and instead felt like ones that were old and needed to be expelled. How long could tears sit before they came out on their own?

Since being captured, Bella hadn't taken a moment to cry. Now, as she watched Caius ascend the stairs, shutting the door behind him and effectively causing their only source of light to cease, she let herself break down. The half-eaten loaf of bread was laying in the dirt near her feet, and she stared at it as the tears flowed.

Seconds passed, and the sight of the bread become increasingly blurry. Soon, her vision was nothing but colors as the tears muddled any shapes. This caused her heart to slow to a more human pace, and she reached out, wanting to feel the texture of the things she could no longer see.

Everything was rough and grainy against her soft fingertips. Through her blurred vision, it all looked like a haze of watercolors. She could hear herself sob, choking on every breath she took. Those sounds can't be coming from me … can they? Cries like these cannot be mine.

Never had she heard herself produce such a sound in her life. It was too guttural and desperate, sounding more like an injured animal than a human.

The shackle on her leg felt especially heavy. Her hands moved toward it, and she shivered as her senses responded to the steel. It was cool beneath her touch, and as she turned back to look at it, it appeared as if it were blending with the pale color of her skin. As she cried, the whole world looked blotted and abstract.

After a few more minutes, she was all cried out. The tears had ceased, leaving her to blink away the remaining ones. She opened her eyes again, rubbing them gently before staring down at the half-eaten loaf of bread again.

Huh? My vision hasn't changed … it's still blurry. Just like it was when I was crying. How could that … how could that even be?

She blinked a few more times and checked the sight in front of her. No change. Then, she blinked a few more times and repeated looking at the half-eaten bread and finding it still as blurry and abstract as before. Then, in a last-ditch effort, she rubbed her eyes and checked. Nothing. Everything was still a blur of colors, most of them being gray.

Why is my vision like this? Did Caius drug me? Is this … God, is this what that feels like?

All of her research into crime had led to a pretty solid knowledge of commonly used drugs and their side effects. Of course, writing a book meant heavy research. However, reading side effects was totally different than experiencing those side effects yourself. The drugs made her feel like she had slipped into another dimension. Now, she was experiencing an abstract world that strangely felt safer and more secure than the reality she had seen all her life.

Was I the only one? Bella looked around, trying to see if anyone else was displaying symptoms. While her eyes were still hazy, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Everyone was sitting upright—everyone who was still alive, of course—and functioning as they had been. Now one was keeling over and vomiting or violently shaking.

As she sat there, waiting for a change in her vision and despairing over the fact that this may be her new normal, she tried to go over the symptoms of different drugs in her head. There were so many drugs she had briefly studied during her research on different cases, the main ones being: liquid X (lovingly nicknamed "grievous bodily harm"), Rohypnol, and Ketamine. Could they be using something like this? Or do they have something more powerful up their sleeve?

Rohypnol relaxes you and, in high doses, can cause lack of muscle control, amnesia, and loss of consciousness. It usually takes a half hour for something like Rohypnol to kick in.

How long have I been crying? Has thirty minutes truly passed since the sobs began?

Ketamine caused hallucinations, and while she wasn't hallucinating, she could see herself getting to that point. Already, the defining lines of the objects around her were all blurred. Even the people around her seemed to blur with the scenery. Nothing felt like it could be contained in its own vessel. Everything was one—the objects, the people, the walls that surrounded them, and even the chilly air. It all functioned as one being as if nothing in the universe was separate.

Sitting silently now, she noticed her heart rate was picking up. Suddenly, her neck was tightening as if someone was sitting in front of her and applying pressure. Of course, there was no one there. While her vision was a haze and nothing felt concrete, she could tell that she was alone in her own little area, which was feeling more and more like a cell with every passing day.

Nothing was normal. It was as if she had been dropped into an art exhibit, and she was just another thing to observe. As she grew used to the changes in her vision and the alterations in her reality, her mind drifted back to the fear that waited for her in the evening. Caius had his eye on her now, and tonight, he wanted her.

It was bone chilling. Enough to make her want to end everything now. What was waiting for her, along with the fact that the entire world now looked like blotted paint, made her want to run quickly toward death. She had never been interested in dying in the past and only thought about suicide on occasion; however, now, it was prevalent in her mind, polluting her thoughts to the point of her mind becoming strategic. If she wanted to die down here on her own terms, how would she do it?

The satisfaction Caius would receive by taking her life was too much to bear. She needed to do it herself. Right here and right now before things became worse. Tears filled her eyes again as she realized her final views of the world would be this abstract mess her mind had created.

Maybe that's better after all. Maybe things were meant to happen this way. This could be God giving me a more pleasant sight before I leave this fucked up world. This is more pleasant … isn't it? I'd much rather see colors all blending together than the true scenery.

No. This is definitely better. At least the blood and shit and piss will all just be a blur.

There wasn't much around her to strategize with. Her hands wandered around the pavement beneath her and found nothing more than her stale cheese and half-eaten loaf of bread. They hadn't even been kind enough to put it on a plate, giving something for her to break and cut herself with.

More tears came, falling onto her filthy flesh as her vision began to go in and out. It felt like her body was slowly shutting down as one tab after the next began to close inside her head before the internet was off, the connection was lost, and her computer screen was fading to black.

No! You can't fall asleep! Stay awake, Bella! If you want to live, you'll have to stay awake!

Her mind screamed at her but not loudly enough to force her to stay conscious. Things became blurrier, her eyes began to droop, and then her world was black.

************************************Snowed In*************************************************

Voices caused her to stir again as well as a cold pair of hands lingering on her thighs. She could barely get her eyes fully open when her legs were separated, and the laughing began. The sound of laughter was from farther back in the room, belonging to a voice with a tone she had never heard before.

There's more of them now … More are coming. How many of these things are there? And how have they all moved through this world entirely unnoticed?

Fingers pressed into her flesh and caused a sting. Caius was there, of course, touching her as a violent child would a stuffed doll. It's as if he wanted her stuffing to come out, pouring from the little holes his nails tried to create. Of course, she wasn't a stuffed doll, so his nails only created crescent moon blood marks.

Caius laughed as he began to take the small amount of blood that formed at her wounds and use it like fingerpaint. As she watched him, she noticed her vision was returning to normal. She could see the clear lines that formed each object she looked at, making everything look concrete and less abstract.

I wouldn't mind losing my vision entirely. There's nothing beautiful left in this world. All of the beautiful things … I never noticed them when I had the chance to. There were so many little things. So many things I loved every day that just felt like givens. Never would I have thought that I would've been uprooted from my life. Never could I have imagined that my morning English tea and mid-day cheese and crackers would turn to a moldy loaf of expired bread.

"Wait for the others," Aro said from a distance.

Bella peered up, looking away from her bloodied thighs to find Aro looming near the stairs. He appeared notably cheery today, which would barely be noticeable if she weren't used to his gloomy expression. Whoever was coming was someone important.

"Wait? They were supposed to be here already," Caius grumbled, scratching her thighs out of annoyance.

It was a thick scratch, causing blood to pour from the open wound, moving toward the apex of her thighs. Caius threw his senior an annoyed glance before turning his attention back to her. He looked at her face, smirked, and then dropped his gaze to her thighs, licking his lips as he saw the fresh blood dripping toward her core. Leaning into her, he breathed in her scent and paused when his mouth neared her ear.

"I bet you'll taste as good as you look. I don't think I can wait. I should find out now, shouldn't I?" Caius taunted.

Then, his mouth dropped, and his lips found her pulse. Everything stopped. For a moment, even time felt like a baseless theory. In film, whenever a character was about to die, there always seemed to be a flashback sequence of all of the highlights—the memorable moments that had shaped their lives. When Bella closed her eyes, she expected the flashbacks, but they never came.

Don't I have good memories? A single moment of my life that stands out? A place in time where I was happy? Tears were coming now for another reason. While she had never felt particularly sad, she realized she had never felt particularly happy either. There wasn't a moment that stood out from the rest as a "happy time."

She could feel his teeth now, teasing her skin as he waited for the perfect moment to press into the vein. Even though no particular moments were coming to her mind so she could remember that life had some good before it slipped through her fingers, nothing was arising. Caius' teeth broke her skin, and she thought of him—the handsome man who had come into her bed two weeks ago.

Something about him eased her mind. She had never heard that handsome stranger speak, yet still, she imagined what he would say to her in a moment like this. With his warm eyes just wicked enough to appear deadly, that handsome stranger would tell her to fight back. The voice her mind created for him was deep and rich and enveloped her as it said, "You can't die here. Bella, you can't die like this. Not tonight. Not any night. Use whatever strength you have. Fight back!"

Just as she was getting ready to, the door at the top of the stairs opened, and Caius became distracted. She let go of a breath, feeling his teeth brush against her flesh again as her neck slightly expanded. He pulled away from her just enough to glance at the floor by the steps, waiting for the people (Could one even call them people?) to descend.

"Finally," Caius said with a smile. He turned his attention back to Bella then and whispered, "Soon, it will just be the two of us. Wouldn't that be nice if I pulled you away somewhere we could be alone?"

Did he mean to pull her away from the wall she was chained to? Her eyes opened wide as her expression became hopeful. If I can get him to take me away from here … If I can get him to unshackle my leg … that means there's still hope! For a moment, she was almost too excited to breathe. If he freed her leg, she still had a chance to make it out of here.

Even if that chance was minuscule. Slim odds were better than no odds. Sure, he had more strength than her. Even if he wasn't … whatever it is he was … she had barely eaten over the course of the past few weeks. They had given their victims just enough to stay alive. Her brain felt as if it were barely functioning, and her body was running on barely any sleep.

She was betting on adrenaline to kick in and save the day. Maybe she'd get a rush of it and be able to fight off Caius, and whoever else challenged her, and get out of the dungeon-like basement. But then what? What would meet her upstairs? What would she run into outside? How many of these things were there? Even if she made it out tonight, they could probably still find her on the outside. Perhaps death was just waiting for the perfect moment to take her. Now was her time, and any extra moments were just prolonging the inevitable.

No … I can't think that way. Negativity won't save my life. And what's the point of it anyway? If I only have so much time left, why spend that time harboring negative thoughts?

Her head turned as the sounds of footsteps filled the room. Two lean, muscular legs came into view. Even from where she sat, she noticed the shiny dress shoes and the pair of slacks that clung to the wearer's thighs in an attractive way. Then, the waist came into view. It was trim and tight. Next, she noticed a pair of pecs that pressed against the fabric of the shirt, and two arms that were attractively thick without being overbearing. When she saw the face attached to the body she had been admiring, she nearly stopped breathing.

With a taut and structured jawline, sinfully arched lips, high cheekbones, and deep, almond-shaped eyes, this was the man who had fucked her so beautifully a few weeks ago. He didn't look at her though. Really, he wasn't looking at anyone. Instead, he stared straight ahead, looking at the air in front of him with a dead expression.

"Edward. My boy, you've finally made it," Aro addressed him, stepping forward to greet him with a formal handshake.

While Aro extended his hand, her handsome lover, Edward, who had consumed her dreams since he had filled her bod didn't take it at first. He spent a good moment staring at the extended hand, almost as if he were intending for Aro to feel awkward, before he took hold of it for a cold, detached shake. The pair may have been familiar, but they seemed far from friendly. Still, Bella's mind was reeling.

He's one of them then. One of … whatever monster they were. Was that why he felt so cold to the touch? Why he felt like ice even as he fucked me?

More people were coming down now, men and women who looked vastly different but shared a similar quality about them, which made them all seem related in some way. Any person who looked at them would have assumed they were family. Their skin was abnormally pale; the eyes were bright, almost as if they were illuminated behind the iris, and they all had teeth that looked animalistic as they opened their mouths. They were something from a fairy tale—villains lurking and waiting to tear apart innocent and virtuous main characters.

They lurked behind Edward, almost as if they were waiting for his, or perhaps Aro's, instruction. No one said anything. Instead, they looked around at the environment—eyes scanning over the victims cowering on the ground as if they were looking at a dinner menu.

After receiving no response from Edward, Aro continued. "Whatever one you would like tonight, you can have. You're our honored guest, after all. A founder's son … it's too bad you don't have the time to visit us more often."

A founder? A founder of what?

Again, Edward said nothing and simply stared at the man for another moment before letting his eyes drift across the room. Bella's eyes were glued to him, and although she didn't speak up for fear of what would happen if she did while she was still shackled, her spirit pleaded with his.

Please. God, please let him look at me. Edward. Please see me! Come and take me away with you.

She didn't know if Edward was good or bad. Until now, she hadn't even known his first name, and even now, she didn't know his last. For all she knew, he could have been one of them: one of the bloodsucking monsters; one of the cannibals; one of the vampires. Still, there was something about him that she wanted to cling to. Something in his aura and spirit that told her he was good.

"Actually, before you pick your meal for the evening," Aro began again, almost as if he wasn't expecting Edward to say anything, "we thought of a game we could play."

"A game?" Caius said, seeming perplexed and annoyed as he pulled away from her even more. "What game?"

Aro looked to him, clapping his hands together cheerfully as he smiled and said, "It was one of the founder's ideas. It's a game for our visitors."

When he said, "our visitors," Bella had the suspicion he didn't mean the group that had just entered the room. Aro's eyes was scanning over the room as if he were sizing everyone up. He seemed delighted by what he saw: a group of people barely hanging onto their lives. On the ground were people who hadn't been properly fed or washed. The entire room smelled like urine, feces, sweat, and death. What sort of games could they possibly play here?

"Let's unshackle everyone!" Aro said in a light, melodic voice. His smile made Bella's stomach turned as it was anything but friendly. Now, he was scarier than ever. It felt like he was on the verge of losing his sanity. Barely hanging on by a thread, he began spouting off instructions. "Free everyone and take them upstairs. If they become unruly, take care of them down here."

We're going upstairs … This may be our chance! Survival is possible if we could just make it outside the doors of this home. There has to be a way out. If we work together, somehow, we'll find it.

"What's the game?" one of the men on the floor asked, braver than Bella as he even straightened his spine and met Aro's gaze head on.

"Hide and seek."

A/N: This is about to get really spicy! Big thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this so far! It's going to be violent and dramatic, but I promise it will have a HUGE pay off! Love you all!