Chapter 3

Bella's POV:

It was the sharp, almost burning scent of disinfectant that woke me up. I reached up a hand to clamp in over my nose by instinct, only to find that I couldn't. My eyes shot open in a confused panic, and I squinted under the harsh, white light. I tried to sit up and look down at my wrists but couldn't raise my head and neck more than mere inches. A thick, heavy, unrelenting metal chain was tightly wrapped across my chest and underneath my armpits.

My breathing hitched and I wracked my brain for a memory, a small flashback that could tell me how I had ended up… wherever I was.

I let out a relieved sigh as Edward and his family left to hunt.

Carlisle's stern eyes rested upon my face, and anger rippled throughout me.

The Cullens' shrill phone rang out, and I leapt over to it in a hurry.

I gazed upon their excessive collection of cars, a small smile spreading across my face.

Angela and Jess wouldn't pick up the phone.

The street lamp's dim lights illuminated a face that I didn't recognise.

I tried to piece together everything I remembered, but none of it made sense to me. I seemed to be completely alone in the room- the only thing in my eye line was the ceiling. There could have been a particularly silent elephant at my feet for all I knew. What I was lying on reminded me of the medical room bed at school- thin cushion, cracked leather and a thin sheet of tissue paper laid over the top. It also occurred to me that the clothes I was wearing weren't mine- unless I had been on a shopping spree and bought a hospital robe in the past 24 hours.

It was the first time I had ever wished that I was in a hospital. At least then I would be somewhere I was familiar with. I knew that I should have been scared and crying, screaming for help. But my heart beat refused to accelerate; come to think of it, I wasn't really feeling anything at all. Just tiredness. No, tired wasn't the right word. Drowsy. Dazed. Numb.

So I gave up my frets, deciding they were hopeless. Perhaps I would remember everything after a good night's sleep.

/

When I woke up this time, it was a completely different story. The first thing I felt was my ankle, seething in pain and throbbing like mad. It felt like someone was banging my head in with a hammer. I thrashed and bucked against the chains frantically, praying in vain that one of them had a weak link. Opening my mouth as wide as it would go, I let out an ear-piercing scream. My throat was raw and my voice was raspy. My face was sticky with old tears, and I wondered in a panicked mess what had caused me to cry.

The swinging sound of a heavy door shut me up. I tried to look at whoever had entered the room, but was once again restricted.

"Ah, awake at last." Crooned a wispy male voice. My stomach clenched with fear, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. "I was wondering whether or not I would have to shock you awake." His laugh sent shivers down my spine. "My, that would've been fun." I detected a slight lisp in his words.

The sound of his shoes clicking alerted me that he was coming closer. My heart thudded so loudly that I wouldn't have been shocked if he heard it.

I wondered if there was any possible way to escape- I was chained at my wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, thighs, torso and chest. Seemed pretty much impossible to me. But I still squirmed, my body not able to accept the fact.

I saw one long, gnarled finger reach out in front of my eyes and brush a stray stand of hair away from my face. I held my breath.

"Goodness, would you look at that bruise!" He cried, excitement in his voice. He prodded at the side of my head, and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming out in pain. Eventually I began to taste blood.

"Oh dear- I'll have to stitch that up for you later." He chided, and my stomach churned.

"St-stitch?" I stuttered. It couldn't have been more than a cut.

"Well, we have to make sure that you're healed up perfectly! I can't have my patients leaving unsatisfied." He waited a few moments, before giggling to himself. "Not that you'll be in the condition to leave any time soon."

"Where am I?" I asked breathlessly, my voice cracking.

"My, what a question!" He exclaimed, the pitch of his voice rising. "Really, where are any of us? Do we ever know? Physically, metaphorically, philosophically, mentally, in the terms of-"

"Physically." I interrupted through gritted teeth, unable to concentrate on his ramblings with my head and ankle still raging in pain.

"In that case, I suppose I must let you in on a little secret." I heard his joints crack as he knelt down, and cringed. His mouth must have been right next to my ear because his cold breath washed over me- it smelt of novocaine, or perhaps morphine. Probably both. If I turned my head, I suppose I could've seen his face. But something stopped me, as if seeing him would make this all a reality and not some vivid nightmare that my perverse imagination had created.

"I don't know!" He whispered, and then cackled to himself as if it were somehow funny. This man really was a psychopath- which meant that I was seriously in trouble. I whimpered in despair- I could have been absolutely anywhere. I was hurting too much to really comprehend how scared I was.

"In a spot of pain, are we?" This time he leant over me, putting his face in my vision. His icy blue eyes burned into mine, making me feel sick to my stomach. They had a watery-looking film over them- perhaps a mixture of Aro's eyes, and that of an old person's. His dark hair was completely slicked back, not a single strand out of place even at his odd angle. His hairline receded, though it couldn't have been because of age. His wrinkle-free skin told me that he wasn't much older than 30. It was ridiculously pale and clammy, as if he hadn't been out in the sun in years. Realising that I had been taking him in, he smiled a slow, sadistic grin. It displayed a set of discoloured, crooked teeth that made me shiver.

"Why don't you tell me where it hurts?" His fingers ghosted over my body, stopping at my forehead. I tried to jerk backwards but was restrained by the bed.

He paused for a few seconds, before tensing his hand into claw-like shape and digging his fingernails into my injury. I shrieked out in agony, bucking and thrashing like a mad-woman. I saw him watching my every move, revelling in my reaction. Not wanting to look into his eyes, I shut my own.

Seconds later, I heard the metallic creaking sound of an old trolley. He hummed an unrecognisable tune for a while before striding back over to me. He waved an unnecessarily thick needle in front of my face, filled with a suspicious looking clear liquid. My heart rate was going a-wire, and I had started to sweat profusely. The chains wouldn't allow my chest to rise far enough, and my breaths were too shallow.

"No."

"Yes." He said, drawing out the 's' sound.

"W-why are you doing this?"

"Oh, my sweet girl, but I have saved you! You were to die out there, all alone in the dark and cold."

"They'll find you. I have people looking for me." I said confidently, realising in relief that it wasn't a bluff.

"Funny that you'd think that." He said with his head cocked to the side, looking like he was genuinely confused. "No one ever has before."

He thrusted the needle into my arm, and it all went black.