So here you are… the sequel to A Rogue Omega. How was that ending for you, huh? Pretty mean, I'd wager. Yes, I know… I'm horrible, and it sucks. But you still love me right?
So I wrote this chapter back when I was writing the seventh chapter of Rogue Omega, and lucky me, it still fits…
I'm only just finishing up the first chapter, then it's on to editing. I've decided to overlook the beta, or lack thereof. I'll just wing it for now. Let me know if my grammar gets too unbearable.
A Delphian Utopia
The shadow in the dark had been there for a little over eleven months. Her dark, mahogany hair was tangled, and wild, showing that she had, at some point, moved from the spot she occupied now. Looking at her, however, you wouldn't guess that she was anything less than an alabaster statue.
Her crimson eyes were opened, revealing a black pupil, alive with thirst. She longed for something she had never tasted, craved something embedded into her instincts, and it was driving her mad not to have it.
Day after day, she would sit there in wait, longing for the time that the ten feet of stone would slide open—wherever that opening was. It was unlocked every day of course, to allow her visitor entrance, but it was more of a one-way passage. In the room she had occupied for almost the past year, there was only darkness, surrounded by feet of stone on either side. She could break it, if the thirst hadn't already driven her slightly delirious. Her fasting gave a whole new meaning to the word suffering.
Her inhuman abilities were foreign to her; her strength, her agility, her advanced speech, vision, and hearing. It seemed as though she still thought of herself as human, the only difference she was aware of was the thirst.
It was haunting, gnawing away at the lining of her stomach, burning constantly at the back of her throat. It churned a monster in her, so hideous, and so vicious, that it had become her worst fear, and the deepest, darkest enigma she had yet to solve.
Above her, she could hear the screams of the people being slaughtered by her keepers, and every time, the monster would growl, its hate for them growing, and its yearning becoming more and more insufferable. It was starting to take over her conscious mind, attacking her memories and thoughts, corrupting them with gruesome visions of herself, killing, murdering, for her own pleasure, for her own satisfaction.
Now, it was not only the monster that was hungry, but her as well, the longing spreading to dwell even within her heart. It broadened like a curse over everything, and soon, she was unrecognizable, or would be, to those who knew her before.
Isabella Swan, it would seem, was changed.
Kale O' Callaugh sighed as he looked to his left, seeing nothing but dead bodies and vampires reigning in their beasts from the feeding. He stepped over a young woman with a pamphlet in her hand, and an older man, with a round belly to get to the door. Both sets of their eyes were open, wide, in shock. It was as though he didn't notice the painstaking way they glared up at him, even through death. The only thing on his mind was that it was time for his daily visit with the enticing prisoner.
When he arrived into the deepest parts of the underground, he nodded his head at the two guards by the stone door, who bowed their heads respectively right back. One turned to his right, pressing a large button on the wall, causing the large piece of stone in front of Kale to slide open.
He heard a growl from inside, and looked down, realizing the drop of blood that had fallen onto his shirt. Surely it would drive her even more insane than she already was.
"I'd let you out, Bella," he murmured into the darkness, "if you'd only promise not to run away. Then you could have your fill."
The growling grew louder as the door shut behind him, and he could see her figure through the dark. She didn't answer him in words, however, and he wondered if she even remembered how to speak. Suddenly, the growling stopped, and he saw Bella turn her head in his direction, peering curiously at him through the shadows.
"What?" he snapped, angered still that she had not told him her power. Could she feel the lust he held for her, or perhaps read his thoughts like her lover had been able to? Could she sense something in his being that was not apparent to any one else?
He made out the way her lips turned up at the corners, smirking, taunting him.
"Don't you want out of here, Bella? Don't you want to see the sun again?"
It was in that moment—he was almost positive—she would go back to being the immovable stone she had been mimicking for eleven months, not speaking, not hearing. As he thought this, she rose, and he swallowed hard as her lithe, seductive figure moved toward him, her crimson orbs trained solely on the almost dried drop of blood on his shirt.
"You smell delicious," they were her first words in what seemed like decades, and Kale was almost stunned at how beguiling her voice sounded, for not being used in so long, "or is it the blood on your shirt Kale?"
Finally, she stopped before him, her ghastly white fingers taking his collar between her hands. Her tragically ravishing face looked up at him through dark lashes, her red lips spreading into a wide, somewhat wild smile. She was clearly being driven mad by the smell of the blood. This was no longer the girl he had claimed, she was now, fully carnal.
"Bella," he murmured as she pressed flush against him, lowering her nose to the liquid on his chest, "control yourself."
"Control myself," she laughed without humor, "when you've locked me up here, with nothing to eat?"
"We've discussed—or I have told you—the terms of which I will release you upon. You seem irresponsive to them." She bent her head down further, sweet, sugary breath fanning across his chest as she inhaled the scent of the blood. How could a cooled, miniscule drop of blood call to her so?
Her tongue darted out, licking at the stain on his shirt, and she frowned as her pupils dilated, demanding more, "I'm really… very thirsty Kale," she whispered, obviously not hearing a word that he said, only the call of the beasts and demons inside of her, raging war on the more humane part of herself.
What is happening to me? There was hardly any rational thought left in her brain, let alone, coherent processing. That had passed long ago, long before the need became her sole reason for living.
"I'll take you upstairs right now," he told her, "if you swear to me not to run," he curled his hands around hers that were still latched onto his shirt, pulling them back, "if I have to come after you Bella, you will sit down here for much longer than you have already—without anything to eat."
She sighed, fixing her intense stare on him, licking her lips irresistibly, "Take me."
They ascended the stairs, Bella's smile sickeningly twisted with hunger and a feral sense of insanity. They say hunger can drive you to such things, but this was so much more than that. Her fingers drummed on her palms as she walked, gracefully and distinctly predatory, towards the door at the end of the hall—the feeding room, where Kale would rid her of the disgusting habits those animal drinkers had instilled in her.
Human blood is what we are meant to feed from, he smiled, looking down at her with hazy eyes, Bella will be such a natural hunter.
"How strange," the brunette beside him murmured idly, flicking her somewhat amused gaze toward her captor. Bella was feeling not herself at all, and wondered what exactly she was like, before the change. Had she been compassionate, beautiful, innocent? Her hypothetical innocence, she knew, was about to be compromised, once she stepped through the doors before her. To her, they were so much more than doors.
Gateways to a decision that would set in stone the path she was to take for the rest of her extensive life. The opening, or the closing, of the doors she had opened when human, when she had really been Bella Swan.
Swan, she pondered, and then what is Cullen?
The name sounded so familiar whispered over and over again in her mind, visions of ethereal beings floating in and out of her conscious state, disastrous and broken. Their faces contorted with pain, and she couldn't help feeling that that was not the way they were supposed to look. For some reason, unknown to her untamed train of thought, she wanted them happy.
"Bella," the familiar drawl of Kale brought her back from her reverie and she looked around. They were now in the room that Declan had bitten her in, and her eyes immediately darted to the spot she had been staring at, at that moment.
Her memories, her past, her hopes and dreams came flooding back to her then, like a torrent of water just broken through a dam. As she closed her eyes, absorbing everything from her life before, one name made a tear in her heart, ripping it wide open as she swore to find its owner.
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
Yes! Sequel! And, personally, I think this Bella is kind of cool, you know? What do you think? If you don't like it, well not to fear, she won't be in this state of mind for long. Unfortunately… I kind of like her crazy. )
Oh, and I know she's supposed to be dead. You and me, we know better, but what about Edward? Hmmm... I'll let you mull over that.