Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of SM.

/!\ Some parts of the story aren't suitable for a young public. I'm responsible for what I write, not for what you read. Let's not focus on the original timeline of the books. I'm not gonna put a specific date.

Beta-reader is cerealgoblin

"To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter 1

Bella was walking quickly through the streets of Phoenix, her thoughts drifting to the events of the previous day. Everything had felt so different since her birthday. It was as if everyone noticed her now, like she was emitting a new energy that she couldn't control. Yet all she wanted was to disappear.

As she quickened her pace, listening to music through her headphones, she began to quietly sing along to the artist, Lady Gaga's "Til It Happened To You.". It was one of her favorite songs. Then Bella turned into a small alley that cut through the neighborhood, a shortcut she'd known for a while.

It was still daylight, so she didn't feel unsafe. But as she rounded the corner, she sensed a presence behind her. Instinctively, she took off her headphones. Two men stood there, their eyes fixed on her in a way that immediately spiked her anxiety. It creeped Bella out and chills began to run down her spine.

"Hey, in a hurry, pretty girl?" one of them sneered with a sly smile.

Bella quickened her pace, walking in the opposite direction of them as her heart pounded harder in her wake.

Suddenly, one of the men grabbed her upper arm, his grip brutal and painful.

She tried to pull away, but the other man was on her other side and as she tried to pull away the other man started to shove her towards the wall.

The men pulled her against the wall of the alley and shoved her against it with a force that left her breathless and out of air Bella shuddered, trembled and gasped in a big breath as her head and back slammed against the concrete.

"Let go of me!" she cried, her voice trembling with panic.

Bella began to scream, but her voice quivered and shook as noise burst from her lips. In her panic, her screams seemed to vanish into thin air. No one was around to hear her pleads and begs for help.

The men pushed her onto the ground, their hands rough against her skin. The men's hands became more insistent, their fingers slipping over her skin, invading her space. Her shirt torn open with a sharp rip, and Bella felt terror wash over her.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move. She was trapped. Her thoughts grasped for a happy memory to help her through her utter fear and terror.

After a while, Bella felt like an hour or so had passed when everything had finally stopped. She had been in and out of consciousness as the men groped and touched her where no man's hands had been before. She had been in so much pain. And then, everything had finally come to a stop. She had been in so much agony, as the men touched her roughly in places she had never been touched before.

When they'd finally pushed themselves off of her, she expected to feel relieved but she just felt numb and cold as she writhed on the ground in pain.

As she gasped for breaths, during their torture and havoc on her body, each inhale sliced through her like knives, a stark reminder of her vulnerability. She could feel the chill of the ground beneath her and the lingering tremors of chaos in her body.

Her mind had tried to escape, to shield her from the horror, and part of her felt like she had slipped away into darkness, only to be dragged back into this hellish reality.

Time was meaningless now, stretching into a void where every second felt like an eternity of despair.

Suddenly, a blur of movement seemed to whiz past Bella, although it made no sound. In a split second, both men were thrown to the ground with a violence she'd never seen before. Her vision, still blurry from her watery eyes, that pooled for an hour made out a figure—a beautiful woman with long curly red hair. Her red eyes glowed with a frightening intensity. She was mutilating the men at a speed and force that seemed supernatural.

Was she hallucinating? Was this real? Was justice really being served out right in front of her?

Bella, trembling, tried to grasp what was happening. After just seconds, the two men that had attacked Bella lay on the ground, groggy and bleeding, unable to get up. They were gasping for breaths after having just been attacked in seconds. It all happened so quickly. But Bella could've sworn that justice had been served by a woman with red hair, the hair of fire and fire had been set on her attackers.

"Who… who are you?" Bella stuttered in a weak voice, still in shock.

The woman had pale skin, so much paler than the average person. Her red hair fell down her shoulders of her nomadic clothing, curling behind her. Her complexion was perfect, flawless, she was like an angel— her savior.

And, the woman's eyes were red, crimson— unnatural. The woman stared at her for a moment, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles, but she said nothing. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared, without a sound or trace of her having been before Bella for even a second, leaving Bella alone with the aftermath of the violence she had just endured.

Bella got up from the ground and started to run. Bella rushed home, in her torn clothes and with red marks visible on her wrists. Bella gasped for breaths as she ran from the traumatic alley. As Bella got home, Renee saw her and immediately took her into her arms, and panic filled her mom's eyes as she saw the state of her daughter.

"Bella, what happened?" Renée asked, her voice wide with terror.

Bella, still shaking, took a deep breath. "Two men… they attacked me in the alley. They… they touched me, they were inside me, Mom. I tried to run, but… I couldn't… someone saved me when this man finished. A woman with red hair. She…" Bella's words stumbled out of her, and then she felt like she couldn't even describe what the woman did so she stumbled out of words.

Renée held her tighter, trying to suppress her own trembling.

"Oh my God, Bella… Are you okay? Did they…" Renee asked her daughter, sympathy edged in her voice.

"Only one…" Bella murmured, tears streaming down her face.

"But the other was so close to raping me too, Mom. So close…"

"We need to go to the scene now," Phil insisted, hearing her story from the doorway, grabbing his jacket as they headed out.

"If we hurry, maybe we can find them." Phil said.

Renée nodded, already halfway out the door. Her mother handed her a long coat to cover her torn clothes; they would need it to file a complaint. Bella followed reluctantly, unsure if she could face the place where it all happened. Her anxiety was high.

When they arrived at the alley, Bella's heart pounded in her chest, expecting to see traces of the brutal encounter—the men's blood on the ground, or signs of a struggle. But as she looked around, her stomach dropped.

Nothing.

The alley was eerily quiet, as if no one had been there at all. The ground was clean. There were no signs of a fight, no blood, not even the torn remnants of her shirt that she was sure must have been left behind.

"It was here," Bella whispered, looking at Renée and Phil, disbelief etched on her face. "I swear, this is where it happened."

Phil scanned the area, confused. "Are you sure? There's nothing here, Bella. Not a single mark."

Renée took a step closer to her daughter. "Bella, honey, we believe you. But… it doesn't make sense. There's no evidence, no sign of anything."

Bella shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"They were here. I felt them grabbing me. And then… that woman… she—" Bella stopped, not sure how to explain the red-haired woman's sudden appearance and the strange way she had incapacitated the men.

Phil knelt to examine the ground, but all he found was clean pavement.

"It's like nothing ever happened," he muttered, standing up and looking at Renée. "No blood, no fight. It doesn't make sense."

Renée held Bella tightly as they left the scene of the assault, her heart heavy with concern.

"We need to go to the hospital first," Renée said softly, stroking Bella's hair as they walked to the car. "They'll document everything, and we'll have more evidence to take to the police."

Bella didn't protest. She was numb, too overwhelmed to form any coherent thought. They drove in silence to the hospital, Renée squeezing Bella's hand from time to time, offering silent comfort.

At the hospital, the sterile white walls and antiseptic smell did nothing to ease Bella's growing sense of dread. A nurse ushered them into a private room where a doctor joined them shortly after. She explained the procedure carefully, her voice gentle but professional.

"We're going to take some samples and photographs to document any signs of assault," the doctor said, glancing between Bella and Renée.

"This is standard procedure, but it's entirely up to you, Bella. Do you feel ready to go through with this?"

Bella nodded slowly, though her hands shook. She felt like she was standing on the outside of her own body, watching everything unfold from a distance.

Renée stayed by her side as the doctor swabbed her wrists and arms where the bruises had already begun to darken. They took photos of the torn fabric of her shirt, her bruised skin, and any other injuries she had sustained during the assault. Bella flinched at each click of the camera, the flash feeling invasive and exposing, but she didn't pull away.

Next came the blood tests and the swabs for the sexual assault kit. Bella clenched her fists as the doctor performed the necessary procedures, her mind drifting back to those terrible moments in the alley. She felt a wave of nausea, her heart racing, as if she were reliving it all over again. The feeling of their hands on her, the stifling sense of helplessness, was something she couldn't escape.

"It's almost over, sweetheart," Renée whispered, her voice thick with emotion, as she held Bella's hand tighter.

"You're so brave." Her mother repeated over and over, in a soothing tone.

Bella tried to focus on Renée's words, but inside, she felt empty. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the tension building in her chest, but all she could do was sit there, frozen.

After what felt like hours, the doctor finally finished.

"You did great, Bella," she said kindly. "We'll make sure the samples and photographs are documented for the police report."

Bella nodded numbly, avoiding the sympathetic look in her eyes. She just wanted to leave. She wanted to forget.

Renée thanked the doctor, and they quietly made their way out of the hospital. The ride to the police station was just as silent as before, the weight of the day's events settling heavily on both of them. Bella rested her head against the car window, her mind replaying the same thoughts over and over again.

When they reached the police station, Bella was already emotionally drained. The sterile, institutional atmosphere felt suffocating. Renée took charge, speaking to the officer at the front desk and explaining what had happened. Bella sat down, staring blankly at her hands.

Eventually, the officer called them into a small, dimly lit office. The officer in charge introduced himself and listened carefully as Renée spoke.

"We've just come from the hospital," Renée said, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. "They've taken photos of her injuries and done the necessary tests. We want to file a report for sexual assault."

The officer nodded, turning to Bella. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Bella took a deep breath, the words caught in her throat.

"I… I was walking through an alley," she began, her voice barely a whisper.

"Two men… they grabbed me. I couldn't… I couldn't stop them." She avoided Renée's gaze, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Did you get a look at them?" the officer asked.

Bella shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"No, I… I don't remember their faces. But I heard a name. Rick or Ricky. Everything happened so fast." She chose not to mention the red-haired woman. It sounded too bizarre, too unbelievable— too supernatural .

The officer continued to jot down notes, his face expressionless.

"We'll file this as a complaint against unknown assailants. We'll open an investigation, but given the circumstances… it might be hard to find them." He told Bella.

Bella nodded, though deep down, she knew the investigation wouldn't lead to anything. The men were gone, like ghosts in the alleyway, and with them, any hope of justice seemed to vanish as well.

As they left the station, Bella clung to Renée, the weight of everything crashing down on her. She couldn't help but feel as if a part of her had been taken that day, something she might never get back.

—

Two weeks had passed, and yet Bella still couldn't summon the courage to step outside. The trauma of that day—the hands that had violated her space, the corpse that raped her, the predatory eyes—had rooted her in fear.

The male gaze she once brushed off so easily now felt like a constant, looming threat, awaiting her beyond the walls of her home. the marks, the bruises were gone after three days, as if nothing had happened even though the bruises on his soul will perhaps never go away.

School had become a distant concern, though she knew she had to return. She wasn't a loner but didn't have really "real" friends who she could talk to about what happened to her and the idea of walking through crowded hallways, exposed to stares and whispers, was unbearable. Each imagined glance felt like an invasion, and Bella found herself trapped in the prison of her own mind.

Since that fateful day, she had retreated deep into herself, a shell of the girl she once was. Words had become rare, her voice strangled by the weight of her trauma.

Renée was at a loss for what to do. She decided that perhaps Charlie might have a solution.

When Renée had called him on the night of the tragedy, for the first time in her life she had sensed the dark side of her ex-husband. Charlie had then called Bella and tried to reassure her, telling her that he would always be there for her and that he would hunt down the bastards who had done this to the ends of the earth.

However, the redhead had already taken matters into her own hands. Bella couldn't explain it. She had seen their blood, she had seen their arms detach from their bodies, She had then seen the immaculate crime scene, and yet it was this bloody sight of their dead bodies that had prevented her from taking the irreversible step of ending her own life.

Later that evening, Renée and Phil sat in the dimly lit living room, speaking quietly on the phone with Charlie. His deep, concerned voice filled the silence between them.

"Charlie, she doesn't want to leave the house anymore," Renée said, her voice strained with worry. Bella's completely withdrawn. She hasn't said more than a few words since… since it happened. And she definitely doesn't feel safe here in Phoenix." Renee explained to Charlie.

"We did everything by the book—filed a report, went to the hospital—but without solid proof, I doubt it'll go anywhere. She's really shaken up, Charlie. She needs to feel safe again." Phil added, approaching the phone's microphone.

A heavy silence followed, stretching out as Charlie took in their words. When he spoke, his voice was gentle but firm.

"I've been thinking," he began slowly. "Forks is quiet. A lot smaller than Phoenix, and a lot safer. Maybe a change of scenery would help her. She could come stay with me for a while—just until she's back on her feet."

Renée hesitated, her brow furrowing. "Do you really think that's what she needs? She never liked Forks before…"

"I know," Charlie admitted, "but here, she'd be far away from everything that happened. It might give her a chance to heal, to be away from all the reminders. I'm her father, Renée. I want to help her through this."

Renée let out a long, deep sigh, conflicted.

"I just want what's best for her. If you really think this is the right move… we'll talk to her about it. See how she feels."

Phil nodded, thoughtful. "Maybe Forks is what she needs to start feeling like herself again."

—

Bella's heart raced as she scanned the bustling airport crowd, searching for her father's familiar face. The events of the past week had left her feeling uneasy and out of place. Despite her usual quiet and unassuming nature, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted within her.

Living in Phoenix with her mother Renée and stepfather Phil, a prominent baseball player, Bella had always felt like a background character in her own life. But recent events had thrust her into the spotlight in ways she couldn't quite understand. There was a palpable tension in the air, especially when it came to interactions with men. Despite feeling invisible amongst her peers, everything now seemed different.

Her mother and Phil had been more present in two weeks than during the seven years she had spent with them. It took this tragedy for Renée to remember that a teenager needed more than idle chatter. Her mother loved her, she was sure of that, but she didn't know how to express that love.

In trying to help her, they were starting to suffocate her. She really needed a change of scenery. The Forks of her pre-adolescence did not have the same dimension as it did now. It was more peaceful. Exactly what she needed.

Renée and Phil had decided that spending some time in Forks with Charlie, her father, might be beneficial for her well-being. And as she waited for Charlie to arrive, Bella couldn't help but wonder how this new chapter in her life would unfold.

What happened that day would be forever in her memory even though it was two weeks ago.

As Bella sat in the quiet car with her father, she couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over her. The familiar yet distant presence of her father brought a warmth to the atmosphere, unlike the awkward silence she often experienced with others.

Since her parents' divorce, her visits to see Charlie in Phoenix had become a rare occurrence, making her return to Forks after six long years a mix of nostalgia and uncertainty.

The cloudy and wet weather of Forks was a stark contrast to what she was used to, but the small-town charm and her father's position as the police chief provided a sense of security. Carrying two pepper sprays in her bag was a precaution she had taken since the incident, a reminder of her lack of trust in men other than Phil and Charlie.

As her father talked about the rebuilding work he had done on the house by adding a bathroom to his bedroom, Bella couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions. His words touched her heart, and though she struggled to find the right response, her smile spoke volumes. The scars of her past still lingered, but she was not broken or fragile—just in need of time to heal.

"I'm happy that you're back, Bella," her father said, breaking the silence. And in that moment, Bella felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could find peace and happiness once again.

Upon getting out of the car, Bella took a deep breath; this was her home, where she had spent all her childhood. An indescribable feeling washed over her; she no longer felt comfortable in Phoenix.

As Charlie guided Bella through the familiar wooden door, the creak of the hinges stirred old memories. The house looked much the same as she remembered—a small, two-story home with pale blue walls, simple furniture, and the faint smell of wood and fresh coffee.

The living room, with its cozy brown couch and the old TV set in the corner, hadn't changed at all. The walls still carried photos of her childhood, mostly of her and Charlie during fishing trips or summer outings. Yet, despite the familiarity, everything felt distant, as though it belonged to another life.

Charlie led her upstairs, his boots heavy on the wooden steps. "I, uh… made some changes since you were last here," he mumbled softly, clearly trying to fill the silence. Bella glanced around as they walked down the narrow hallway, her footsteps light against the creaking floorboards.

When they reached her room, Charlie pushed open the door with a slight grin, revealing the space he'd worked on. The room was larger than before—he'd torn down the wall that once separated her old playroom from her bedroom.

The space felt more open now, with soft gray walls and large windows that allowed natural light to flood in. There was a new bed, simple and comfortable, with a lavender quilt neatly spread across it. In one corner stood a small desk, next to a tall bookshelf half-filled with novels and old trinkets.

"I thought you could use a bit more space," Charlie said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "And I, uh… added something."

He opened a second door, leading Bella to her own private bathroom. It was small but modern, with white tiles and a sleek glass shower. A vase of fresh flowers rested on the counter—an attempt, perhaps, to make the space feel more welcoming.

Bella's eyes softened as she took it all in. Her throat tightened, and though she couldn't find her voice, the gratitude was clear in her expression. She turned to Charlie and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. He seemed surprised at first, hesitating, before gently patting her back.

"I just want you to feel comfortable here," he had whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Bella pulled back slightly and gave him a small, grateful smile. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. She didn't need to speak—her gesture, her eyes, said it all.

Charlie cleared his throat and gestured toward the room again.

"I'll let you settle in. If you need anything… I'm just downstairs."

With that, he left her to the silence of her new room, the door closing softly behind him. Bella stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath as she let the quiet wash over her. The house was still, but for the first time in days, she felt a small glimmer of safety.

Bella stood in her childhood room, the familiar surroundings now feeling foreign to her. The walls seemed to close in on her, echoing the pain she had experienced.

She remembered the night of her assault, the tears had flowed freely from her that day, but now a numbness had settled in, leaving her unable to shed any more tears. As she gazed around the room, she realized that just like her, it had changed. The innocence of her childhood was gone, replaced by a heaviness that seemed to linger in the air. Bella sighed, an evidenced sadness in her eyes.

As she placed her belongings on her bed, she noticed a metal box with her name written in capital letters. Opening the box, she found a huge stack of photos from her childhood, all of Charlie and her.

It was a time when she was innocent, naive, and believed the best in everyone. She thought she wouldn't cry anymore, yet tears were streaming down her face without her realizing it. They were warm tears, and for the first time in two weeks, Bella felt like she was coming back to life.

—

Bella woke up on Saturday feeling disoriented by her night terror, unable to recall the details of her nightmare.

Despite her mental exhaustion, she noticed that her reflection in the mirror appeared well-rested and radiant. However, she couldn't ignore the physical changes she had been experiencing since her birthday.

The drastic changes had left her feeling like a stranger in her own skin. Her body, face, hair, and even her voice seemed different, Phil, Renée, and Charlie failed to notice these changes, as Bella had always maintained a flawless figure, a melodious and alluring voice, striking heterochromia eyes with long brown lashes, and silky wavy hair.

Feeling the weight of these changes, Bella took matters into her own hands. She ordered brown contact lenses and glasses online to conceal her heterochromia eyes and changed her wardrobe to oversized clothing to mask her altered figure.

She disposed of all reminders of her past self, including perfume bottles, makeup and clothes like skirts, dresses or tight tops, in an attempt to adapt to her new reality and avoid drawing attention to her evolving appearance. Bella was determined to conceal the truth from those around her.

As Bella was coming down the stairs, she noticed a framed photo on the opposite wall that must have been from when she was around seven years old, judging by her missing incisors. The photo was taken while she was sitting between her parents, their arms wrapped around her. It captured the last moment they were all together and happy.

A month later, her mother packed their belongings, and Bella flew to Phoenix with her . A smile couldn't help but creep onto her face at the memory. Everything seemed so much simpler back then.

It was clear that despite everything that had happened, Charlie cherished their moments so much. This photo also indicated that perhaps he had not moved on yet. It was a pure and authentic love, rarely seen nowadays.

Perhaps one day, despite her scars, someone would love her with deep and sincere love. Bella could only hope. Her heart leaped at this idea, and his smile widened.