*Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Twilight or The Most Dangerous Game. No profit is being made from this fanfiction.*
LIONS EAT LAMBS
Vv~~vV
A camping expedition goes awry when Bella discovers her friends are missing after a hike.
While searching for them, she stumbles upon the manor of Edward Cullen, unaware that she is about to become a pawn in his dangerous game - a game she can't afford to lose.
. . .
RATING:
M
GENRE:
Suspense/Horror
WARNINGS:
Violence/Language/Dark Themes
(no rape!/no cutting!)
ADDITIONAL:
AU/OOC/V&H
=x=
This fan fiction is based on the short-story, The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell. It was one of his most popular short fictions of all time. It was first published on January 19th, 1924 in Collier's Weekly. If you have not had the privilege to read this piece of work, the synopsis is as follows:
The main character, Rainsford, is a big time game hunter from New York, who falls off a yacht while in the Caribbean. He proceeds to swim to an isolated island where he meets General Zaroff, a Cossack hunter, and is then hunted by him as part of a game. Equipped with only a knife, clothes, and food, if Rainsford could outlast his hunter for three days he won his freedom.
While Lions Eat Lambs is based off this wonderful story, it does have its differences.
I hope you enjoy!
. . .
=x= PROLOGUE =x=
. . .
Smoke filled the small room as the three bodies within shifted continuously. Chief Jasper Hale sipped his hot, black coffee from his plain Styrofoam cup, then puffed his cigarette in anticipation. He sat across from a young woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She wasn't beautiful but he figured that she would be on any other occasion. But now, she was as horrid as her ripped dress and soiled face. Her eyes were blood-shot with dark circles encompassing the space under her lids. Her hair was stained and matted with blood and dirt. Specks and streaks of the mix splayed across the skin of her hands, face, and neck. Her bottom lip trembled with chills and fear, as if she had seen an apparition from the grave.
Behind her, Detective Demetri paced the confines of the room, filling two corners one at a time over and over again while holding a Marlboro between his index and middle finger. It had been several minutes since he had inhaled and the cigarette was in desperate need of tapping. Chief Hale motioned for him to begin.
Demetri stepped to the table and reached around from behind the young woman and pressed the record button on the small device in front of her.
"Let's begin," Hale said. He took a long drag of his addiction and exhaled the smoke after allowing the fix to linger momentarily. He had quit smoking years ago but started up as a release after many people had disappeared from the city, never to be heard from again.
The woman let out a ragged breath. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Just start at the beginning. Your name and age would be good."
"My name is Bella Swan. I'm twenty-three years old."
Hale flicked the accumulated ashes into a glass tray that sat beside his notepad. "And why are you here?"
"Because I know what happened to the people that have gone missing."
He leaned forward a bit in his chair, his bare forearms grazing the table. "Is this a confession, Miss Swan?"
"No."
"Then, how do you know what happened to them?"
A tear rolled down her cheek as her filthy fingers fumbled together. "Because I was going to be one of them."