Bulletproof

Saved and Damned

"It was just a dream" I scolded myself, knowing if I couldn't define reality from fiction Charlie would suggest a shrink and I'd know for sure I was crazy.

"Are you sure?" An all too familiar voice from the door spoke.

"Edward." I whispered his name, my heart skipping to a sprint. And then I came back to reality.

My name is Bella Swan, and for the past three days, seven hours and twenty minutes I've been one of forty hostages from the Capital of Earth's kingdom.

--

I should have known the moment that I woke up, that the nightmarish end I had been dreading was not in my mind. But reality. A reality that I never wanted to awake to. Forty hostages. Each one of us not directly related to the royal family. Sure, my father was a second cousin of the King, but still?

I couldn't wrap my mind around it. The King and Queen had six sons and three daughters. I would never want them to suffer the same fate, never, but even as his second niece I would mean near to nothing until I was wed.

And the others? What had they done to deserve a life in captivity?

Then, there was the glaring question. What had our beloved King done except love and care for us all?

"Do you know why you are here?" His lovely voice called out, immediately breaking through my future horrors.

"No." I choked, my head still blurred from my past experiences. It was stupid not to know why I was here…In this less than comfortable bed. My eyebrows knit together as I tried once again to sift through my memories.

"Really, now?" Edward questioned, his face held no amusement or cheeriness. It looked to me like he was frustrated with my answer.

" What you tell me now is that you're not with the others because you were asleep?" He pressed, the anger and impatience in his voice wouldn't have even been missed by a deaf man. So clear, deadly, and velvet.

"No." I replied again. I was hoping he would write my one response answers as something besides mental incompatibility. I wasn't stupid, just bewlidered and slightly defiant. His teeth ground themselves together and he exhaled harshly through his flared nostrils.

"You tried to escape, first off," He began, stalking towards me and I noticed now that I was still locked in his cold, furious eyes. "Then you used my gun to shoot my comrade in the shoulder." I had done that? Escaping was one thing, but hurting other people like that wasn't in my character. Not with a gun. As old fashioned as they were, I would have used my own body to protect myself.

Edward paced from one side of the room to the other, practically blowing steam out oof his ears. His fluid movments across the floor seemed inhumanly graceful, especiallly for a rebel. I had actually always saw all of them to be scruffy, idiotic, neanderthals by the pictures and descriptions of them on the television.

Edward on the other hand was brilliant, handsome, and a mere boy. I hated to admit that his intelligence and appearance were beyond surreal. It went beyond street smarts, though I'd bet by the life he lived he had that too.

"You raced passed a man on the ground, bleeding. For someone who is raised into a life of riches and treasures, you are no where near being a respectable lady." He nearly spit the acid words when speaking to me then glowered at me with such loathing my stomach churned uneasily. He was not furious, he was raw aggression.

Hell's fury all bottled up in one man's body.

Even if I wass willing to take in the idea of shooting a man, why would that evoke so much anger? It sounded like I shot his brother….And I doubted that honey blond rebel was related to him in that sense. "Why would you care? Sure, he was a comrade, but the way you are talking to me makes it sound like I shot your brother."

"He might as well be." Edward's jaw strained at this and I was wondering what damage I had done to the tall rebel.

" I'm sorry for hurting him, but I am not sorry for trying to escape." I stated, making my trembling voice more powerful. I was going to stand my ground, weaponless, and puny I'd let him know I wasn't going to be intimidated so easily. If easily was the right word.

"You should be sorry, because now you are going to be punished."

"Punished?" I croaked, my eyes widening as the gate pushed itself open spilling different types of torture. Beaten? Whipped? Raped? He heard my intake of breathe and nodded. "Now get up." He commanded, his dangerous, yet appealing voice made a chill run down my bones.

My legs did not comply with his words and in response, he yanked me up by my arm. I expected to feel pain, but even if his grip was hard it wasn't too firm.

"From now on, you will adress me as 'Red' understood?" He queried, dragging me down a pitch blackhall that was lite only by wax candles, by the sound of metallic clanking beneath my feet as we walked I guessed we were in some sort of steel base. When I said nothing, Edward squeezed my arm with the hand still enclosed on my bare arm. It hurt enough that I yelped from the constricting pain.

"My name?" He prompted, his pace quickening down the dark, metal hall. I wondered then what happened to the charming gentleman I had encountered at the King's dinner. The one who I had trusted so fully, who had sincere, deep emerald eyes that I almost swore I could see a perfect gem in.

The answer; he never existed.

"Asshole." I hissed and he turned me around to bring his gloved hand back to slap me. I breathed heavily, breathes as the sharp pain that germinated from my naked cheek to the skin beneath my eye.

"Red." I repeated in a hard, cold tone of voice. I fought back my angry tears when I noticed they were threatening to spill over the sore rims. I would not cry now….No, not now.

He didn't respond after that, and after my eyes fell from his stoic face I noticed a blinding light at the front. My thoughts went back to the dinner from three nights ago. How happy I thought I had been only to realize I was going to be taken away from my life and have what happiness I had ripped from me.

-.-.-.-.-

September 27, 2030.

King James's Birthday Dinner

All of the lights blinded me. At that time I was stunned how the King's castle was so old-fashioned, but elegant. My 'uncle' had never spoken to me more than once, and I was twelve years old then. A decade later and he decided to allow me to come along with my Father to his annual birthday dinner.

This had been a very rare, very flattering event to be invited to. I couldn't dance even if my own life depended on it, so instead of attracting good attention, or better no attention, I would give my family a bad name.

"Lady Isabella Swan, the relative of the great King who can barely stay upright."

Yeah, fantastic.

Charlie had always wanted me to meet a nice guy…especially when considering the fact I was twenty one. If I was married to someone of greater importance, he believed we would have a better life. It was not even remotely bad to begin with, but it apparently was not good for our families reputation to have a divorced father and a daughter who couldn't grab a man. Before James's rule being divorced was not as looked down upon, though now everything was a bit different.

It was an obligation now, and as reluctant as Charlie was to the idea, he said I should be married by my twenty-fifth birthday.Not that I had ever wanted to be married, but my Dad had been drilling it into my head since James had overthrown our previous government. The United States had been weakened to the point survival of the fittest or most intellectual remained. Until King James came and saved us all.

"Bells! We've gotta get out of the house or we'll be late." Charlie bellowed from somewhere downstairs. Most likely the couch, or maybe the bottom of the stairs. I heard him though, and I grumbled complaints on how I was wearing a dress, the one article of clothing that I dreaded waltzing around in. My humiliation was assured now…Anything even close to my two left feet would cause me to fall flat on my face.

"I am coming, Ch-Dad!" I berated myself mentally for the momentary slip-up and cringed. I was so used to everyone calling him "Sir Charles," and then there was always Renee who had reffered to him as Charlie. Besides, I preffered to call him Charlie.

Revolving hesitantly I gazed at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. The dress complimented her too pale skin nicely, almost making it cream rather than toothpaste.It slithered down her form, ruffling some at the right end of the midnight-blue dress ending it's trail at the lowest point of her calf. A "V" cut formed at the top, exposing a miniscule and tasteful amount of skin.

Then my eyes met her face. Nothing changed, now that I saw the whole picture. I was plain, monotonous me. Only dressed in significantly more elegant attire. Same chocolate brown eyes, same nose, mouth, forehead….I'd accepted a long time ago that I would never be a model or the prettiest girl in school. I lived with my dull features for twenty one years, I knew that I shouldn't try and re-evaluate my 'no make-up' habit.

"You ready Bells?" Charlie queried in his usually gruff tone of voice.

"Yes." I called back, a mute sigh escaping my un-glossed lips as I warily watched my feet which were bound by startlingly beautiful high heels. They could have belonged to the Princess herself. Then again, the Princess looked a hundred times more graceful than I could ever hope to be. A sad but true fact.

"Wow…Bells, you look...Er, great." My father had never been a man of many words, I was a bit shocked he actually was so open about it. Especially since
I felt so awkward, and plain in the face.

"Er, thanks." I replied preparing myself (by waddling in the impossibly long heels) to hook my arm around his.

"Wait, I've got something for you." He said, hobbling over towards the wooden table in our dining room in abnormally strained movements. I suspected his suit didn't fit. My eyes followed after him, curious and wide as I attempted to decipher the reason for his 'surprise.' I had never been one for surprises, and neither was he, so when he pulled something like this I became suspicious.

When he came back, Charlie had in his hand two masks. One a plain black mask that covered the expanse of the nose, and sides of the eyes. The other was a stunning curved, blue mask that had two minicule orbs of white rock under the slits. He handed my mask to me and I couldn't help but feel warm inside at this generous gift. "It's a masked event anyways…James always liked the element of surprise. I hope it fits." Charlie mumbled, obviously embarrassed in trying to get a reaction out of me.

"Oh, Dad…" I said, stumbling forward to embrass him awkwardly. "Thanks."

He flushed at my intimate physical act and hugged me with one arm. "No problems, Bells...Really." He assured me, and walked out the door with me strung on his arm in hopes of a) looking somewhat appropriate and mainly b) so I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I couldn't have cared if I looked acceptable to anyone...Except it had been a rule in the world that when a "proper woman" was outside she must be accompanied by a man.

I inhaled deeply, taking in my surroundings before hopping ineptly into the vehicle. Crisp autumn leaves fluttered recklessly in the chilling wind, circling in the air not five feet from me. The sky was a creamy blue, covered in wisps of clouds and above was the shadow of the moon. A full moon. Forks was green, mossy, and really wet, but on rare days like these I couldn't help but feel like I was in a warmer place, definitely a more welcoming one than my icy Hell.

I stumbled when backing away and found myself oddly situated in the front seat of the flying police vehicle. By the way Charlie was turning and squeezing knobs, I could tell we'd be flying rather than using the road. It was more efficent, but ever since that one goose smashed it's skull on the window, I couldn't help feeling slightly concerned.

God knew that geese were nearing extinction.

"Ready Bells?" Charlie inquired in a low grumble, his foot on the air-pump.

"One second." I said, burying my face into my gloved palms, smiling wryly. "Okay, ready." I wasn't litterally going to keep my face in my hands for the entire ride, I mainly just wanted to get the last bit of humor out of my system before being swept into conversations that included the latest fashion or what the other women were wearing that looked by their standard gross.

Well, I can't say that it all wasn't expected. At first my senses were overwhelmed by the startling colors of the gowns, suits, palace, even the lights. Everything, from the floor to the tables and chairs looked like ice crystals. Mirrors covered almost every inch of the wall. It reminded me of a winter wonderland, except in Autumn. My initial enjoyment had sort of been taken away once we were seated and people started talking to me. It was not even one person. No, there were dozens of people calling for my attention.

Boys my age and older talked to me, the conversations varied from weather to news to my status ( meaning if I was already with someone. That question shocked me.) When I responded honestly, the boy with the baby blue eyes and hay-blond hair began to speak more animatedly.

I wondered idly to myself if there was a possibility of leaving in the next hour or so. I could always tell Charlie I needed to practice my speech or do the laundry…

"Isabella?" The boy called (Mitchell?) me back from my escapists reverie.

"Bella." I corrected Mitch and his face fell from embarrassment. Wait, remembered his name. Mike.

"Yes, Bella, you didn't answer my question. Want to, er…Dance?" He obviously seemed uncomfortble with asking me, but his awkwardness was nothing compared to mine. I wasn't sure whether to go along with dancing and trample over his feet or to save myself the embarrassment and deny.

"Mike-" I began to formulated my response and instead of continuing on, I stopped short. My eyes came in contact with a boy. Whoever he was I could only see so much of his concealed face. He had the oddest and most beautiful colors. Paranormal bronze hair that was styled in a casual dissaray shot a shock of longing to run my hands through it, to see if he had gelled it or if the texture was smooth and natural. He was almost lanky, and the tuxedo he wore looked like something from the early two thousands. The mask itself looked like cheap plastic.

Separate from his pallid skin and fine, slim build, I was speechless when my eyes met his for that spare moment when he was twirling his ever lovely partner. His eyes held mine for a prolonged moment, a starless space for a pupil rimmed with a mesmirizing green. Once the masked, emerald eyed boy's attention flickered back to the woman, I hurriedly hid my face by bowing my head as low as possible. I was oggling a complete stranger.

A peculiar, interesting stranger, but a stranger none the less.

It felt beyond shallow for me to admire his appearance, especially when I had never been fickle about a man's exterior image in the past. Oh no, I was becoming one of those plastic fickle women, who in their fifties eye-balled boys his age like fresh meat.

"Bella?" Mike's voice borded concern and vexation as he stared at my scorching face.

"Oh, sorry Mike. I zoned out for a moment." Partially true. I had been preoccupied by the boy who was hastening my transformation into the desperate, horny women stage. No, no, no…Not good. Maybe I would need to isolate myself and learn to deal with the fact that if Charlie was partial to a man, he would be wealthy, have a name…And if I was lucky would only be a decade older.

"Yeah, anyways, what do you say about that d-dance?" He stuttered, shifting in his seat some.

"Excuse me." A velvet, boyish voice spoke from behind and my body tensed automatically. I was too scared to revolve in my crystal twisted chair and see who the voice's owner was. A warm, soft hands rested on my shoulders and my breathe hitched when the nameless boy spoke again. "I was caught up when searching for your ring, love. I am sorry, we may have to buy you a new one." It took me two full seconds to catch on, then I released a relieved breath inside.

"And I really liked that, er, ring." I whimpered, exhaling and hanging my head.

"I apologize. By the way, who is this darling?" The boy queried, his voice so bewlidered and satin smooth that it made me almost believe the lie.

"I'm Mike." He grumbled, discouragement and defeat evident in his voice. Of course I felt horrible about not telling him straight up that I did not want to dance, but the stranger's lie had been so convienient at the time. And I would have felt like a jerk if I didn't play along.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mike. I am Edward. I see you have met my fiance.'" He said casually, so much so I wondered if he was maybe under a dellusion. If this boy was the one dancing earlier, he must have been blind or extraordinarily nice. The God-like boy I had seen was not going to converse with someone as plain, mundane, and inept as me.

"Yeah, I have." He responded curtly.

"Well, if you don't mind I would like to dance with my beloved." Edward squeezed my shoulder slightly and I rose from my seat, managing to keep my balance.

"Thanks , Mike. I'll talk to you later." I was able to keep my voice more level now, but when a pale hand clamped down on my own, leading me away from Mike my heart jumped into hyper-drive. I wouldn't have been surprised if my heart's erratic throbbing was level with the music. That thought created a sharper shade of pink on my face which stung my self-conscience for a moment.

Edward continued to tow me and I twisted only to find that my suspicion of who the boyish voice originated. He was even more devastating up close. Either my eyes were decieving me or he really was perfect, even with the knock-off mask that shielded his face. I kind of wanted to dispell the illusion of his puzzling beauty. Another part told the rational side to shut her trap so I could at least pretend that he was just as stunning without a piece of plastic attached to his face.

Pathetic.

"Thank you." I muttered, avoiding his face by focusing on an old couple dancing lithely as they held eachother.

He was about to respond, but I cut him off before he could get in a single word.

"But, you can leave me here." I added looking pointedly at my hand entwined with his. His face turned down in confusion and some other emotion I could not pin point. I hurriedly amended my previous words. "I don't want to be an annoyance- I mean it was very nice of you to save me, but-"

"If I recall, we were supposed to dance. Well, I thought since you allowed me to drag you all the way out here," he motioned with his hand in a semi-circle, "that you were accepting my invitation for a dance." Oh. Was he serious? I knew I was incapable of dancing, if that of all of my flaws didn't send him running for the hills, then I didn't know. I didn't want to leave a shameful impression of myself, I had made an oath. Never to dance unless there was a blind fold on every person in the room and a plastic bubble surrounding me.

"I can't dance."

"Do you want to dance with me or not?" He queried, his eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased with slender, defined lines.

The gentle ferocity in his emerald eyes wiped my mind of all thoughts. I never had a problem with coherency; not until this angelic man decided to waltz into my life with his bright eyes. "Yes." I said thoughtlessly and a bit too quickly. Edward lips curled into a lopsided smile while his hands put my hand on his shoulder and wound around my waist.

It felt like a moth's touch, feather light yet I was still aware of his arm around me. I felt secure in his soft almost embrace. I expected him to either send me back to face Mike or hold me, a complete stranger, too tightly. Edward was the perfect gentleman.

And at that time, I truly believed him to be.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"On the floor." Edward commanded.

I kneeled against the wall with my hands behind my head. His hand came from behind my head and pressed my forehead against the cruel cement wall. "Stay that way." Edward whispered in a seductive tone of voice, his full, pale lips hovering just near the crook of my neck. He left a kiss in the hollow of my ear before rising from the ground. Footsteps echoed and rebounded from one side of the room to the other. The sound continued on until they abruptly stopped, silence filling the area. How twisted, sick, and evil was this man? I had suffered enough, and now he made it a habit to mock my original feelings towards him. I resented that. Hated it with a passion.

Edward had control over me.

Like a doll, a puppet. I had a set of rules to abide by and if they were not followed accordingly I knew that whatever he was going to do would be frequent. A chill raced down my spine at that. A few men from behind chuckled heartily and stood behind "Red" to witness my punishment.

"Isabella Swan, for injuring a member of the Scarlet and one of your caretakers, you will be sentenced to one week in the Iron cage, deprived of all conversation, proper sleeping rights, have your new care-taker handle you and by the order of the Fifth Chair be immediately disciplined." A lower more gruff voice bellowed. Just like the sound of the foot faults, his voice bounced off the walls only increasing my terror and determination to not let this break me.

"Interrogation begins tomorrow, the 'Iron Cage' tonight, as well as ten lashings which will commence in minus two minutes." I was going to be whipped? How old had that method of torture been? Far, far too old. Not even fifty years ago had anyone ever even thought of scarring someone like that. King James had even prohibited it.

"Red, get the belt."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Cliff hanger, yeah, I got tired. Lol, anyways I will update in five days, but I have been needing to take a break from writing. Life isn't fair at times…And in a week or so I'll be back into writing, Role playing, chatting, everything.

As for where the story is now, I will explain some things that ARE ODD OR NOT CLEAR IN THE CHAPTER.

New format?: Why, yes. I decided to make my chapters longer by a) writing more and b) splitting the paragraphs.

What's up with cutting King James' Dinner short?: Okay, that will appear in the next chapter. You will see everything that happened that night, because the ideas for that flash-back in my head are beyond wicked. We'll just have to see if it will transition well into my writing. Cross your fingers!

3. 1st chapter is so different…: Yes, and I am planning on majority of my chapters to resemble this. So, if you were put off by that chapter, no worries. If you hate my fic., okie dokie!

4.Why should I review?: Because if you don't I'll send Ren and Stimpy after you…And then I shall bring a kazoo and play wonderful kazoo music for you every night at three AM.