Summary: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

A/N: Impossibly long A/N at the bottom of the page. I'll meet you there…eventually. OH yeah, I have realized that I am an idiot. Somehow, despite my major love of Harry Potter, I made a major boo boo when I mentioned it in my story. Did anyone notice that I was stupid and used Hungarian instead of Bulgarian in this story? In Harry Potter, they speak Bulgarian (you know, like Viktor Krum and stuff). The only mentioning of Hungarian was the Hungarian Horntail and she didn't speak Hungarian. I think she roared a bit, but that's it. Oh well, I'm sorry for being completely dense and forgetting that major fact. I apologize for any major HP fans. Anyway, go on and read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or it's characters.

HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 9: NEWSFLASH

"Let me go Emmett." He shook his head stubbornly, his curls bouncing lightly on his head. The guy looked like a five year old from where I was standing. A very large, very muscular five year old.

"Not until you take off the tie. We're going to a party, not a business lunch." I shook my head, mocking the way he had but he didn't take notice. Instead, he just tightened his grip on my leg, holding me in place. It was as if he was trying to reenact a young child trying to keep his father from leaving. Only, with someone as large as Emmett, it was just plain creepy. He was cutting off the circulation in my foot and it was impossible to move when a two-hundred pound man was sitting on your foot.

"Emmett, it is up to me whether or not I remove the tie or not. I feel more comfortable with it on, so I'll leave it on." He pouted and relinquished his grip on my leg, standing quickly. Unsteadily, I walked towards the bed, trying to rid myself of the numbing prickles that were now swallowing my foot whole. I dropped down onto the bed, shielding my eyes from the light of the fluorescents above me. A looming shadow covered me up and I could see the faint outline of my brother, a large smirk on his face.

"Take off the tie or I'll choke you with it." His next move wasn't a surprise. His arms reached out for the tie at a high speed, but I was quicker. Before he could reach, I rolled underneath his arms and hopped off the bed, running to my front door. I would have made it out too but unfortunately for me, I was being tag teamed by a giant, a midget, and a historian.

"Where do you think you're going, Edward?" I groaned, letting them know that they would all pay the next time they came by to eat lunch. I had survived off of take out for several months before. The food in the fridge was particularly there for them, especially since they often came by to mooch off of my stash. But they didn't know that. The food could just mysteriously disappear…

"Jasper, please, let me go, please," I begged, hoping that maybe he would show me mercy, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. Alice stood behind him, a firm look on her face, her forefinger poking the small of his back lightly, just enough to tell me that she was in control of this puppet. I silently cursed Jasper for being so totally and utterly whipped.

"Sorry, Edward; you know the rules." He smiled sheepishly, his southern accent drawing out the words. "What Alice says goes," we said in chorus, Emmett even joining in as he pulled Alice up into a large hug. I sighed, knowing I was unable to get away with it. Running now would do me no good. I could outrun them all (though they didn't want to admit it, I was the fastest), but running would just give them another reason to use this against me and hold me up for favors. It seemed like for every one mistake I made, they each got a favor. That was just the way it worked in my family.

"Fine, but I'm wearing the tie. I don't care if it's a part –" I was cut off by a light snipping noise. I turned around to see Alice with a pair of scissors in her hand and a Cheshire grin on her face. My eyes widening, I put my hand to my tie and pulled at the knot, watching in horror as the ruined tie slid right off my shirt and into my hands, the knot the only thing holding the two pieces together.

"There, now we all win. Emmett doesn't have to see Edward wearing the tie and I got rid of Edward's fashion atrocity."

"How does that make everyone a winner? Jasper and I got nothing out of this!" I nearly screamed in frustration.

"Actually," Jasper said, "I win too. If Alice is happy, you know what that means." He gave me a very out-of-character look and chuckled when I shivered slightly in disgust. Despite the fact that she was adopted and not in any way blood related to me, she was still my sister.

"This is wrong, so very, very wrong," I replied, my disbelieving tone making them all laugh and giggle. Well, it was a good thing they were getting a laugh now. I was now rethinking my plan of starving them. Maybe food poisoning was a better way to go.

--

I had forced Emmett to leave the house early, ensuring that we would be able to stop for gas on the way to King's house on the outskirts of town. Unfortunately, he had insisted on retrieving "snackage" as he called it, for the road. Grudgingly, I complied.

We stepped into the store, Emmett running towards the coolers to pick up a soda and a bag of chips while I grabbed a cup of coffee for the long night ahead. As I stirred in the creamer, my foot bumped against a wire newspaper stand and a copy fell out of the rack, scattering haphazardly across the floor. Quickly so to not draw attention to myself, I picked it up quickly, sorting it back together. Realizing it was a lost cause to try and fix the many sections back into their original order, I gathered the stack of papers and paid for them along with Emmett's snacks.

In the car, Emmett happily tore open his bags and broke the seal of his cola, leaving me to read away at the paper I had just bought. It had been months since I had last read a newspaper. My months spent sitting in a doctor's office, listening to others talk about their problems normally took all my attention and didn't leave me with enough energy to really care about what was going on in the world. It was easier to just try and forget about everything else, anyway. I forked through the sections, skipping over the sports and the comics, and instead looking towards the community section. I rolled my eyes at the page.

Royce King's face covered the center of the page as the newspaper printers glorified him as best they could. It sickened me that not only had he taken to this new publicity, but he used it to his advantage with the public. I could only assume that the next election for mayor was in the bag for him despite his lack of knowledge of politics. Popularity votes would win him the title. I read the sidebars, looking at the weather we would be having (cold and windy as usual) before skipping over a strange article.

MISSING NEW YORKER

Curious, I read on.

Two weeks ago, Ms. Sybil MacAfee went to her neighbor's home to borrow a cup of sugar only to find that she wasn't home. As she would later find, her young neighbor hadn't been home for more than five days.

New York officials have called for a city search for Isabella Swan, 21. Witnesses say that she had shown up for work October 20th, 8:30 A.M., on time as usual and had left at 6 P.M. that evening, as per usual. Owner of "Pam's Coffee Hut", Pamela Thompson, spoke to New York officials.

"One of my workers said she came in and bought a cup of coffee. He's pretty sure she comes in every morning too, but he isn't too sure. We have quite a few customers on a daily basis."

Between 6 P.M. October 20th and November 3rd, there are no accounts for where Ms. Swan was. As far as officials know, she has no credit cards and has not made any deposits or withdraws from her bank account. Ms. Swan graduated from Forks High School, Washington, in spring of 2003 and now takes online college courses. Her professors have also denied that she has contacted them or sent in assignments. She has not been seen. There is now a statewide search for Ms. Swan. New York officials ask nearby states to also be out on the look for Ms. Isabella Swan. Any information on her whereabouts is to be reported immediately to the New York Police Department (NYPD 1-823-555-4238).

Description:

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Race: Caucasian

Height: 5'4

Age: 21

There was no picture or any sign of what the girl looked like. Internally, I wondered exactly how they expected us to be helpful if we didn't even know what this girl looked like. Their description was vague. I'm sure a majority of the population in New York had brown hair and brown eyes and was white. Annoyed with the lack of information and helpful reading, I set the newspaper down and tried to ignore Emmett's loud munching as I rested back in my seat and waited on my impending doom.

--

The loud bass rung through my ears, making me go deaf with each beat. I nearly covered my ears at the horrible music that pretty much resembled screaming profanities and other pretty obvious suggestions. These words were only found in the urban dictionary. Unfortunately, Emmett had threatened to use my massacred tie to drag me along if I didn't walk into the party calmly and with enthusiasm. Faking enthusiasm was easy but walking in quietly was difficult when I just wanted to make any sort of noise to distract me from the "music" that was now invading my eardrums. The heat in the air due to the mass amounts of dancers in the room was stifling.

"Come on Edward, get with it!" Emmett screamed, just barely reaching his voice out enough for me to hear. It was strange. His booming voice blended in well with the horrible sounds that were emitted through the large speakers. I nodded glumly but tried to act excited for Emmett. It was unfair of me to act like a killjoy when he was obviously completely stoked about this event. I would have been too had I been Emmett.

The front door was open for us, a man I was familiar with as King's lackey taking people's coats, the Chicago wind pushing us further into the house. The stench of hard liquor and beer permeated the clean night air and made me internally blanch. I nodded to the lackey as I handed over my blazer and walked in with a bouncing Emmett. The house was filled with party-goers, all of them familiar. All of them were the doctors that I had worked with or knew of as some of the best in Chicago. But another thing became completely obvious to me.

They were all men.

The same thought must have passed Emmett, who had been completely obsessed with meeting the women that he assumed would be here. He turned to me and screamed over the music, "Is King gay? I couldn't tell!" I almost smiled but honestly, I was just as curious. I looked around again but felt my hand being pulled and tugged to an empty corner of the room. My body was jostled through the crowd before I came face to face with none other than Royce King. Emmett too had been pulled along with me and stared in confusion at the investor.

"Glad you gentlemen came," he screamed over the music, a smirk coming over his face. "The entertainment will be arriving shortly." Just as he spoke, a whistle was blown and people's heads shot towards the door where it looked like the lackey was holding up a group. Royce smirked again and excused himself, the music having already been silenced, everyone's murmurs and complaints filling the room. Only one of the people from the group outside the door came into the room. A woman with a very sharp, almost angular and cat-like face and wild red hair entered the room and spoke to Royce in hushed tones. Royce nodded and pulled an envelope from the pocket of his open jacket. The woman didn't even open it to see what was inside. She just nodded and opened the door.

What I saw next shocked me. A score of women, all wearing scanty amounts of clothing, entered the room. From what I could see, all were young, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, their bare bodies pale and shaking in the cool air. Emmett nudged me with his elbow, whispering, "He freaking got strippers! I knew this party was a good idea!" I didn't nod in response but my eyes grazed over their curving figures instinctually before I internally slapped myself for looking at them like fresh meat in front of a pack of hungry wolves. Once my mind had cleared of lustful visions of women, clear thoughts came to me. I felt a gag escaping my throat.

From what I could see, three of the girls had purple marks showing through their clothing, indistinct marks stretching out from beneath their tiny bra-like tops and hiding beneath the shadow of their thighs. Their pale skin showed the markings clearly, their deep bluish purple blush hinting around the edges. How could no one –not even Emmett –see this? Then again, the lights were dimmed and the still flashing colors from the timed stray light machine were practically blinding the already deaf people.

"Gentlemen," Royce called out, his voice ringing in my ears just like the bass. "You all have probably been wondering why I didn't invite any of our female co-workers in to join in the festivities. Well, I thought maybe a little entertainment would be in order for tonight." He gestured towards the girls with a familiar smirk on his face. "These women have been paid generously to assist you all with your…needs tonight, so feel free to do whatever you wish." He turned away only before calling back over his shoulder, "Just please don't break the merchandise."

He went back to looking over the girls before pulling a blonde woman from the bunch, her eyes narrowed and blue, glaring at him while he smiled at her anger. His hand grasped the back of her neck and squeezed, her body quivering beneath his strong hold as he whispered something in her ear and dragged her to the back room. As he left, the music began pumping through the house again and the men all went back to looking at the women. Almost shyly at first, a few men came forward and selected a woman and dragged her to the dance floor. But then, a few bolder men just came and quickly grabbed a girl before dragging her to one of the many doors of King's mansion, the door shutting silently in their wake.

Emmett and I stared in horror at what was happening, both of us giving each other looks occasionally to make sure we were both still sane and completely sure of what was going on. The red-haired woman and a large man watched over the remaining girls, the five that were quickly being taken by the other men in the room, occasionally two men dragging away one girl to an empty couch and sitting her down between them. As if by instinct, I grabbed Emmett's shirt and pulled him in through a door. Thankfully, no one had yet entered to continue with the activities.

I clicked the lock securely before turning back to Emmett whose face was in a state of pure shock. His eyes didn't waver from the door and his normally upturned lips were now in a straight line.

"Edward," he began, "we have to call the police. Did you see what….I can't even…dear god, what the hell was King even…." He couldn't even finish his sentence. That was the same way my mind was reacting, stuttering out unsure thoughts of the scared girls' faces.

"I don't know Emmett," I replied, leaning my head against the door, the bass once again pulsing through the oak. "If we call the police now, we don't even know what will happen. Em, King has got this city under his thumb. He can lie about all of it, just say someone else hired them and he had nothing to do with it." Emmett nodded, leaning against the other end of the wall before sliding down to seat himself.

"Edward, we can't just leave and act as if nothing happened. I mean…did you see their faces? The…marks?" he whispered solemnly.

"We aren't leaving!" I retorted angrily. How could he even think such a thing? Am I really so cold that he would believe me to be cruel as well?

"Look, we have to do something. Maybe we can talk to Royce about it later or something." I shook my head, unwilling to let time pass while we sat around and do nothing. Instead, I unlocked the door and stuck my head outside. What I saw disgusted me to no end. Men were fornicating with the young girls on the couches and seats, some just kissing them messily while others completely sheathed themselves within the others. I just thanked God that their sounds were drowned out by the resonating noise. I quickly looked away, unable to look at the faces of the girls and turned towards the door where a few men were still standing around, looking like they were arguing over which girl they would take. My eyes glanced over them quickly and found one that was receiving less attention that the others. A girl with a curtain of hair shielding her face was wearing a shiny metallic blue bikini set, her long dark hair covering her cleavage and the pale skin of her back. I set my eyes on her in hope that maybe I could get her alone for just a moment, to just try and figure things out.

Calmly, I walked over, nodded to the man standing behind the girls, and grabbed the girl's hand. Her muscles seemed to freeze in my grasp, but I didn't hesitate to pull her along with me, despite her locked muscles. The red haired woman glared at the back of her head and pushed her forward, allowing her to fall into my chest. She immediately pushed herself back on her heels, nearly falling over in the process. I hadn't noticed but the heels she was wearing weren't helping her walk. In fact, she was nearly falling to the floor with every step she took. To assist her, I put my arm around her waist only to have it smacked away. Cautiously, I took her hand again and pulled her along with me.

As soon as we reached the open door, I lost all my sanity and just pushed her into the room, readying myself for the moment that was about to present itself.

"What's your name?" I spurted out quickly, hoping that I would have enough time to act before someone else came to interrupt us."

"Uh…csinál nem anyag…" she said, her eyes down to the floor. "Hol akar Én?" Confused, I looked at her. What was she saying?

Emmett was still sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. The click of heels woke him from his trance-like state before he glared daggers at me. "Edward, this is not the solution to our problem. Bringing in a hooker isn't what I had in –"

"I am not a hooker!" The girl growled loudly before slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and a blush on her face. She lowered them quickly, mumbling "bús" under her breath.

HUNGARIAN TRANSLATIONS:

"Csinál nem anyag" – "Does no matter."

"Hol akar Én?" - "Where want I?"

"Bús." – "Sorry"

Grammar doesn't exactly matter to me in Bella's Hungarian translations. She was learning from the others and hasn't exactly been with them for very long. That's why the sentences don't really make sense grammatically.

Oh yeah, a couple lines down, there is a Spanish translation. You all should know what it means (it's common knowledge, really) but in case you don't, here's the translations:

"No hablamos ingles" – "No speak English" or "I don't speak English"

"Did she just say "bus"?" Emmett asked in shock. The girl glared at him before turning her glare to the wall. "I'm sorry," she muttered angrily, her eyes never tearing away from the wall.

With small, unsure steps, I walked towards her slowly. She reminded me of a wild deer. One false move and she would topple away on her four inch heels.

"It's okay," I said cautiously, extending my hand towards her. "My name is Edward Cullen. What's yours?" Her head shot up at my name and her eyes widened at the sight of my hand. She immediately stepped back only to trip over herself and fall back against the wall with a large 'thump'. She grabbed hold of the doorknob in an iron grip, her eyes not wavering for a moment.

"No hablamos ingles," she said quickly. I almost smirked at her. Really, did she think she could get off by speaking Spanish?

"Look, we just need to know your name and we know you speak English. Tell us or we'll force it out of you," Emmett spat out. The girl's eyes widened before she nodded, her shoulders trembling wildly. I glared at Emmett venomously while he just shrugged. He had no idea what subtlety was. His ways were always to act and ask questions later. The idiot didn't know when to shut up.

"No Emmett," I retorted angrily, nearly seething at his insensitivity. Turning back to the girl, I tried to soften my approach. "I'm sorry. Don't worry, we don't do anything, we just need your help. Please, can you help us out?" She looked back at Emmett's form with wide eyes before shooting back at me quickly, her body unconsciously moving back into the wall.

"If you are having trouble in your relationship, I can't help you. This is between you two," she muttered quietly, looking away with a blush on her face. I could hardly see her features clearly with the dimmed lights, so I edged forward toward the light switch. As the fluorescents clicked on, she hissed and covered her eyes with her forearm. I was just able to cover my gasp with her reaction to the light. The bruises along her legs and neck and arms were ghastly to look at. The deep purple and black marks shadowed her pale skin, a few yellowing marks marring her wrists and ankles.

"Oh god," Emmett gasped, his eyes unable to leave her skin. Had it been under any other circumstances, I would have scolded him for looking at her, but this was different. No normal person would have been able to look away from the damage that had been inflicted upon this girl's body. Emmett jumped to his feet, startling the girl and ran to a door that was on the other side of the large room, revealing a dark bathroom. He switched on the light and let the door begin swinging closed behind him. The sound of his shoes shuffling against the marble floor and plastic containers clinking together was all I heard before he came out with bandages and a topical cream in his hands.

He made to grab the girl's hand but she immediately hissed at him, keeping her hand as far away from him as possible. He sighed and turned to me, his eyes pleading to work with him. I looked back at the girl. "He just wants to dress the bruises. I promise, he won't do anything wrong. Trust me, he's a doctor. He knows what he's doing. He won't do anything inappropriate." Her eyes narrowed and she spat out, "Everyone in that room is a doctor. Can you tell me that they won't do anything inappropriate with the others?" I lowered my eyes in shame. Those men out there were some of Chicago's finest doctors and practitioners. The trust that I had once had in them had already all but disappeared into nothingness.

"I can't promise anything of them, but I can promise you that we won't hurt you. I won't ever hurt you. I swear on my own life that I won't." I hoped my eyes displayed the honesty that I was trying to express to her and it seemed that they did. Within a few moments, she was sitting on the edge of the large king-sized bed, her hands intertwined on her lap, wringing one another. Emmett was using cotton balls to apply the cream to her skin, his knowledge of medicine much more vast than my own in this situation. I knew the basics, but when Emmett took control, he knew exactly what to do. He was always with children and knew how to keep the situation light.

"So, how long have you been speaking English?" The girl huffed and turned her head away, her eyes closed in a grimace whenever Emmett pushed lightly on the bruises. He was being cautious now that I had given him my silent warning. I swore to this girl that I would never hurt her and I'd be damned if he broke my promise. Now that the light was on, I could see her features much more clearly than I had been able to in the main hall's flashing lights. Her skin looked to be fairly clear save for the bruises, a pale, almost translucent ivory overtaking her entire body. The metallic blue of her clothing made her almost look unreal in the light, her skin taking the blue and transforming it into a different color, an unnatural color that, in the flashing lights, must have looked much more alluring to the other men. She hadn't given me the chance to see her face clearly, her dark mahogany colored hair covering her shoulders, face, and about half of her backside and front. It looked like it had been years since she had last cut it but it was undamaged, the ends looking naturally healthy despite the wild curls within the straight yet thick hair. She was shivering lightly. Emmett grabbed a spare sheet from beneath the pillows and handed it to her, the girl taking it cautiously and covering her shoulders with it.

"Ma'am, I know this must be a difficult situation for you, but I need you to tell us your name. We want to help," I spoke softly, hoping that by using a calmer approach, she would cooperate more. But she shook her head stubbornly before looking up. What I saw almost caused me to step back in shock.

Large brown eyes stared at me with fire, not passionate but sure and anger-filled, ready to burn those who refused to acknowledge what she was saying. They were set in nicely with the long, naturally curled, dark lashes that surrounded them, setting off a warmer tone on her pale skin. It took me a moment to realize that she wasn't wearing make up at all. Her face was bare of any sort of make up, the clear skin of her heart shaped face radiating a sickly pale color in the fluorescents. I could only assume that this was due to the fluorescents.

"You cannot help me, nor will you attempt to. I do not need your help with anything, especially not with my so-called "captors"," she raised one of her unoccupied hands to make quotations in the air with her fingers while Emmett looked up from his work.

"What do you mean, "so-called 'captors'"?" Emmett questioned, his head cocked to the side and a frown on his face. I looked to the girl with a similar expression. She sighed and turned her head away, her eyes sad as they left our direction. I wanted to protest, to tell her not to look away, but I refrained. The feeling that gave off the instinctual feeling to pull her face back was new and unprecedented. Perhaps it was the same feeling of protection that I wanted over this girl. She was so weak looking, her thin body so small compared to the men in the house. She was so pale, I was surprised she didn't look more dead.

"I mean that I am with them because I choose to stay with them," she whispered solemnly, her voice trembling with her shoulders. My arm reached out to hold her but Emmett's disbelieving stare stopped me for a moment and made me rethink what I was doing. Instead of making my initial move, I sat on the floor in front of her, my legs crossed beneath me and my hands pressed underneath my thighs. I wanted to give the appearance that I was defenseless. It would take moments for me to stand up and attack had I actually wanted to. She would have the chance to get away in a normal, dangerous situation.

"Please don't act so cautious," she murmured quietly. "I'm not made of glass." I stared at her disbelievingly but removed my hands from beneath me nonetheless.

"Emmett," I whispered to him, hoping she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice what I was saying. She was staring up at the fan that centered the ceiling, her eyes never leaving the never-ending cycle. "It's Stockholm," I whispered quickly. A low hiss escaped the girl as she glared at Emmett and I, a look of anger and murder in her eyes and face.

"I do not have Stockholm syndrome. I am not emotionally attached to my captors, you ignorant bastard," she said venomously, glaring daggers and me and my shocked face. It wasn't so much the fact that she had called me a bastard or the fact that she had responded in the first place that had shocked me the most. It was really just the fact that she even knew what Stockholm syndrome was. Even Emmett had taken a few seconds before a look of realization had crossed his face. "Mr. Cullen, you are very much mistaken. You have no idea what you are dealing with."

"You don't understand, do you?" She didn't wait for a response. She stood unsteadily, prying off her heels as quickly as she could with the sheet on her shoulders while grabbing onto the bed. When she finally released her feet, she let out a sigh of relief and paced the floor, her steps unsteady and calculated. "This isn't a matter of whether I want to stay or not. It's the blood that will be lost in the process. We're like drugs, being shipped illegally across the country, ready for any man or woman to take us and use us. We are disposable, Mr. Cullen." Emmett gasped out loud.

"You can't be serious," he said disbelievingly. "Trafficking…in Chicago? No, it's impossible…" Emmett shook his head, unable to look fully at the girl.

"I gain nothing from lying Mr…Emmett…" she said cautiously, testing Emmett's reaction. Emmett didn't react, just continued shaking his head in shock. The growing need for information ate away at my innards and forced me onto my knees. "Please, miss, you need to tell us what's going on. We can't just let this continue. Please, at least a name." Her pacing slowed to a slight shift from foot to foot before she finally looked away from us, facing the wall and never turning away from it.

With a cracking voice, she responded.

"Isabella Swan."

A/N PLEASE READ: Hey guys! I know, I'm finally back and writing again. I'm so sorry for the wait. As I said in my last chapter's note, I've been very busy. I'm exhausted and I kind of wish the world would stop spinning for a moment so I can just breathe in the toxin filled air. But then, one side of the earth would overheat and millions of people (depending on which side of the earth is facing the sun when it stops) will die. Anyway, I got a 2 in solo and ensemble, so I am not going to state, which is upsetting. I know I tried really hard but I know I can do better. I'm in for hell when I put myself through my new practice regimen.

I cut my hair! It's now very short (it's supposed to be called a 'razored, layered bob'. I, personally, think that name is stupid). Anyway, this stuff doesn't really matter. The point is I've got to explain this chapter.

You may be thinking, "Hmm, Bella is acting strangely calm around these guys. What's going on here?" Well, she's scared shitless (pardon my French…or Hungarian in this case). She feels like she has to act a certain way around men, especially since she has been so disciplined physically. She can't really react negatively in a physical way, but she can't help it. She naturally doesn't want to feel pain and so she's extremely cautious. Besides, it's easier to act angrily rather than admit that you are scared. Plus, this is just Bella's character. She represses emotions very well.

As for Bella's butchering of the Hungarian language, she was doing this for a reason. She doesn't want to admit that she is human, just like the men that are doing all this stuff to her. The other girls are Hungarian and so she is pretending to be that too in order to protect her sanity a bit. Plus, she never truly expected anyone to care what her name was and she doesn't want to waste it on anyone. She can't trust these guys as easily as we readers can. We know they wouldn't do anything to hurt her, but she doesn't. Honestly, she expected a push into a bed and a WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM kind of thing to happen. That's all she expected and this meeting was unexpected and unnerving to her.

The article, despite its crappiness (the reporter was drunk while writing it ), was important. I couldn't just randomly introduce the two characters together without proper preparation and I wanted to wait a chapter before they met, but I knew that they needed to meet soon. So, I bided for introducing them this chapter and continuing the story in the next chapter. So this will have to do for now. The chapter started out pretty light and sort of stepped up a bit in the plot area. I kind of wanted to ease you all into the seriousness. All the darkness and the anger and the oppression really takes its toll on me and it tires me out a bit. I feel pretty tired right now from just thinking about it. But I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for this story.

Okay, I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing so much last chapter. I appreciate all the support I've gotten from readers and would like to thank you all for being so caring and understanding. I've gotten a couple really heart-filled reviews that really just make me smile or that make me so glad that I actually started writing this story. I appreciate it all.

Oh and there's a poll on my profile. Please look into it!

Thanks so much! REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!!!

AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD! PLEASE DON'T FLAME THEM (AND EAT THEM). THAT, CHILDREN, IS KNOWN AS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.