A/N: To all my wonderful readers that reviewed, favorited, and liked: thank you so very much! Without further ado, here is chapter two. Twilight solely belongs to Ms. Meyer, only Hanna and her family are mine. :)

Forget Me Not

Chapter Two: A Triple Shot Espresso

Although he was impeccably polite, the man intimidated her. His smooth voice, his cherubic features, his burgundy eyes. She unconsciously gulped.

"Forgive me," the man murmured as he took a hold of her right arm. He proceeded to lead her to a loose curve down the alley with a windowless brick face.

"No please, let me go. There must be a misunderstanding," Hanna pleaded, fear seeping into her words.

The man did not answer. Instead, he carried her off the ground and slid down the open hole by the brick wall. Once they reached the ground, he set her on her feet and continued down the visible path. There was little light underground and the petite woman had no choice but to follow the man.

At the end of the tunnel was a grate- the iron bars were rusting but thick. A small door made of thinner, interlaced bars stood open. Hanna continued trailing after the man until they passed a thick wooden door.

The temperature immediately shifted warmer when they reached a lit hallway where an elevator was stationed. Without sparing her a glance, the man stepped inside the elevator. Inside the elevator, Hanna snuck a glance at the man as he threw back the hood of his cloak. His dark hair waved to his shoulders and accentuated his slightly olive skin tone. She observed his eyes- the vibrant eyes that bore at her hazy orbs. Hanna quickly shifted her eyes towards the elevator door and they remained there until the old elevator gave a faint ding. The man stepped and she hesitantly followed him until the open wooden door. He briefly paused at the entrance and motioned for her to walk in. As Hanna walked in, she noticed two men seated on wooden thrones and a black-haired man speaking with a delighted voice. Her steps immediately ceased and she stared at the men on the throne, the delighted man, the couple she saw the alley, a pixie-like tiny woman. They were all impossibly beautiful, perfectly carved like Greek statues. They terrified her. The black-haired man's voice brought her attention to him. "How wonderful of you to join us dear Hanna! Come to me Tesoro come come!"

Hanna remained firmly in place, her body refusing to move by the sheer, illogical terror she felt. A gentle hand ushered her forward to the smiling man.

"May I, my love?" he reached for her hand. His hand was uncommonly cold and she unconsciously snatched her hand out of his grip. Nonplussed, the man licked his lips while an involuntary shiver slid down her spine. "Such innocence, such charm!" he shook his head. "My Demetri, come to me," he beckoned the olive-skinned man forward. The man called Demitri strode forward and placed his hand atop the pale-skinned man's. "Ah… la tua cantante. Such desire, such thirst, yet such restraint. Dear Demetri, free your instincts. Drain her, embrace her, want her, break her, mate her, protect her, adore her, detest her, smother her within your arms my sweet."

"Thank you, Master."

The interaction between the two men unnerved Hanna. Demetri slowly approached her with a blank face. Her posture tensed and she peered up at the tall man with distrustful eyes. The man opened his mouth, as if he was about to speak to her, and without hesitation, his mouth landed on her bare neck and his teeth sunk in. The man sucked, and pain shot through her entire body. She began to feel dizzy, she felt herself slipping away into oblivion. The last thing she saw was the horrified faces of the couple and the tiny woman.

Pain. She was in pure hell. Bones shattered, sharp blades sliced her skin apart, her veins screamed, her eyes burned, her throat ripped, her ribs crushed- she cried, she cried, and cried, and cried. She was in pure hell. Her entire body was on fire. Yet, her mind was conscious and she felt every single pain throughout her body. How long had she been like this? Is this my eternity in hell? Time was lost to her. She began counting seconds- one, two, three. Some excruciating three hundred thousand and eleven seconds later, the pain shifted. It was no longer the knife-stabbing, it gradually subsided and she began to hear more clearly. The running water, footsteps, finger thrums, a rustle of clothes, a small intake of a breath.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Thank you for reading~

-Dear Waltz