Disclaimer: I do NOT own Twilight; Stepenie Meyer owns Twilight.
Summary: The year is 1885. Edward Masen, a man of mystery, needs a new blood slave. His old one, Tanya, died. What happens when Edward finds Bella, a homeless girl that had been abandoned, while hunting? AU, OOC, VERY Scary Darkward
WARNING: This story will contain lemons (sex) in future chapters. That's why this story is rated M. There are adult themes such as rape, violence, and probably other things, too. If you are not comfortable with that, I suggest you read a different story. If you aren't comfortable with things that are only for mature people, I suggest you think twice before feasting your eyes on this story. It will be the darkest story that I will ever write. Edward will be very cruel, dark, and above all, violent in the beginning and middle of this story. Also, if you can't handle drama, suspense, romance, or very dark themes, I recommend reading a different story. Don't worry, though. It won't go past an M rating; I sincerely assure you...I think. :)
This story is dark. It's not going to be a girly fairytale about how boy meets girl and boy loves girl immediately. These characters are fucked up and are basically the dramatization of what happens in real life. If you are scarred from reading this piece of fiction, it's not my problem because you have been warned. I know that sounds mean, but I'm just trying to warn you.
Again, Edward will be violent, extremely dark, and quite frankly, cruel throughout some of this story until an event changes everything.
Bella will be a somewhat pathetic creature, showing the characteristics of a young girl who already has problems in her life before Edward decides to jump on the chance of using her. Yes, I said using her.
*If you haven't guessed it already, this story is dedicated to all the unfortunate girls that are kidnapped and shamelessly used by disgusting men who have no sense of guilt and don't consider how mentally and physically damaging it is to the women that are raped. The romance in future chapters is only included to make this story have a happy ending and ensure no one stops reading this because they have tears in their eyes (but that might actually happen at some point anyway). Rape is horrible and it happens every day. Kidnapping is just as bad in some situations, especially if a girl is kidnapped to be sold into the sex slave trade.*
And now, after reading an almost full paged warning, I give you:
The Blood Slave
I sat against the wall in the alley shivering, my knees pressed against my breasts to try and keep the small amount of heat that radiated from my now chilled body. Why did it have to be so bloody cold throughout these harsh winter times? What did I do to deserve to endure them without shelter, without hope? Was I truly that despicable of a person?
Yes. According to Sue Clearwater, who had become Sue Swan after my wonderful mother had sadly died of an unknown cause a few years ago. She had left home to go to the library and had never returned. My father claimed she had run off with some other man to live in sin, not wanting to believe that she might be dead, until they found her body…completely drained of blood.
I was horrified, shocked, and felt internally scarred when I was told this information. What sort of disgusting, foolish lunatic would drain a body of blood for? To savor the kill of a living, breathing person who could think and feel? To give themselves some sort of sick sexual gratification from the act? I had unfortunately come across a rather naughty book that told me tales that I'd never repeat of what strange men and women found arousing; I still shivered whenever I thought of that book, but this shiver was mostly from this blasted cold weather.
Why couldn't my parents have lived in a place that was warm all year long? That would have made it so much easier for me. At the very least, they could have shipped me off to an area that was sunny and hot almost all the time. They also could have graciously let me stay with them.
My father would have let me stay. I knew he would have. He had always had a 'soft spot' for his only child, his only heir, but the moment Sue stepped in the front door and married him, he… I closed my eyes, not wanting to see those painful memories of the past. I couldn't cry – that would drain what little energy I had left in me even more.
I couldn't help but wonder what would've happened to me if our landlord hadn't set a rule against more than a certain amount of people in the houses that he rented, if I hadn't been the one who was chosen to leave the house (by Sue, of course). We would've have fit perfectly together as a family, all five of us, if Sue hadn't became with child and that…silly landlord hadn't made that rule. I'd never met the man, but I'm sure he was a…well, I'd rather not use coarse language like that. It doesn't help anything. I felt it was all right to use the smaller ghastly words, but the word that I'd just thought of to describe that man was utterly horrible.
Why, oh, why couldn't they have given me some money to start out my 'new adult life', as Sue had put it? Why couldn't my father put his foot down and tell Sue to force one of her legally adult 'children' out of the house? Why me? Why is it always me?
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered, Why couldn't we have just moved to another house, stay together? Did Sue really hate me that much? Why? Was I that horrid?
I looked around to my left and saw my only friend, Jessica, huddled next to me. I hadn't noticed her sitting next to me – I'd been too busy asking questions in my own little world. I thought of the two of us and summed us up in three words – poor and miscomprehended. She was such a misinterpreted girl, as was I now. I understood her, though. I knew what it felt like to not be loved by anyone. I was the sort of person who could die today and have no one give a damn when they found out. Jessica and I were alike in that sense.
"D-did you find anyone for tonight?" I stuttered from the shivers that wracked my body. I never knew how I could take such physical pain. It hurt so much; everything hurt so much. My joints ached from frost bite, my eyes stung from the harsh wind whipping them, my lips were chapped and cracked, and above all, my wrist throbbed with the soreness of yesterday's new injury. Surprise, surprise – I fell down on the icy roads again.
"No," she said hoarsely. She turned and coughed. She was so sick with tuberculosis. I wondered sadly if she would make it through the winter this year. I would have no friends, then. I supposed I could start chatting with her friend Lauren, but… "Madam Jane said I was too ill to please her men tonight. Are you quite sure that you don't want to, Isabella? Innocent virgins are paid so much more than I would be paid at this point. I've been with almost all of her men, and they are tired of me. At least, that is what Madame Jane says."
I grimaced. I would not stoop to offering my body for money from those… those scoundrels. I was above that. I internally chuckled to myself at the sickly humorous statement that popped into my head – I was considered a 'bum living off the streets', yet I would not become a prostitute like Jessica, even though I had been offered high sums of money in the past – I realized that that wasn't even remotely funny after a moment. A lot of men wanted to 'pop my cherry', apparently. I refused to let that happen. When I married, then and only then would I allow my state of virginity fall away and be taken. It would be my gift to my husband, and it was the only thing I could ever truly offer him. I had nothing else. I didn't even have a dowry anymore, thanks to Sue, my darling stepmother. But as the days went on, the more enticing these offers became. I wasn't even close to having a kind, respectable man sweep me off my dirty feet, so naturally, those 'generous' offers of money for sex started to seem more realistic for survival. But something told me, instinct or insanity, perhaps, to not throw it away. Not yet. "Jessica, you know how I feel about this. I cannot do it. I simply cannot do it."
"But what if it means death first? It's so cold; we could freeze." Her teeth chattered as she spoke these unintentionally heartbreaking words.
"So be it," I whispered after a few seconds of silence (with the exception of the wind tumbling through our little alley), mostly to myself, feeling stronger. I would not, could not give this precious gift away to a stranger that did not even care to appreciate it. I would feel disgusted with myself afterwards. I would not be called a 'whore' in the future. I would not be considered a 'harlot' or even a 'tart'. That wasn't who I was. I was raised better than that and I would not let myself become that and give into those guilty pleasures. "Perhaps we could find some other sort of occupation or maybe try and find a dry place for a while?" I suggested lightly. "It's so terribly cold."
"Well…" a flicker of a smile ghosted across her sickly pale features, "We could… Oh, dash it all, I don't know! All I know is that I'm freezing cold!" she moaned as she raised her head to the sky. She shivered when the wind brushed against her neck and quickly tucked it behind her thin, summer shawl.
"Did any of your friends at Madam Jane's tell you of warm places they'd be at today?" I wondered, trying to not put such an obvious emphasis on 'warm'. I would occasionally meet Jessica's prostitute friends for an outing every now and then (with Jessica, of course). "I haven't seen them in so dreadfully long." I really loved to see other people. I became so lonely after living this way for a while.
"I don't – yes! I do know. They said that they would be going to a funeral for a girl named Tanya Denali. Apparently, she had disappeared about a year ago or so and her body had been found this week. I thought she had quit…" she trailed off, shaking her head to herself. "She worked at Madame Jane's as well, you know. She was a kind girl, but you wouldn't realize it until you knew her for a while," she babbled on. "You never met her...well, you didn't meet her when I was around, Isabella."
"Would it be horrible of us to join in the visitation to 'celebrate' the parting of her soul from her body?" asked, feeling a little guilty. I had probably never met her (knowing my shyness), yet I wanted to go to her funeral to be in a warmer climate for a little while. Surely she wouldn't have minded if she were alive to tell me so.
"Only if we go dressed in these rags," she answered shakily with a sigh. "You know it is considered disrespectful to appear at a funeral dressed like…well, like we are."
"Oh, dear," I commented, thinking of nothing else to say. Her words kind of stung even though I knew well that they were true.
She gasped which quickly turned into a coughing fit. "Lauren would let us borrow a couple of her dresses and some jewelry, maybe even some shoes even we're lucky. I always borrow something from her when I am going to be with a man for the night and it fits. We are about the same size so it should fit you well, too. Madam Jane barely allows me into her home with this dress on," she added, motioning toward her outfit. I stared at it for a moment. It was a conservative, gray gown that went to her ankles. It would have been quite attractive several years ago, but now it went above her ankles and it was tattered in several areas now. There were many multi-colored patches that covered the dress. On top of that, it was covered in dirt and had a faint odor to it since it hadn't been washed in so long.
"She was a friend of yours?" I asked, turning my body slightly to face her. The wind hit my back, and it instantly chilled. I frowned slightly – I had probably spent an hour of my time with my back pressed against that wall for warmth, and it all left in less than a second. It simply wasn't fair.
"Yes, we spoke occasionally. Once, we had to…well, together we… I don't know how to say this delicately, Isabella," she said, her brown eyes pleading with me to understand.
"What are you talking about, Jessica? I don't understand." My brows furrowed deeper.
"We…we did things together with a man once." She turned away, ashamed. Her long, brown hair tumbled over her right shoulder, creating a veil of privacy and secrecy. We both did this often.
"Oh." My eyes widened, finally grasping what she was trying to say. No wonder she decided to hide behind her hair. "Is that even possible?" I wondered. How could three people try to…do that?
"Oh, Isabella, you would be surprised and would probably go into shock if you saw some of the things that happen at Madam Jane's," she said with a twinge of sadness, shaking her head back and forth. I guessed that she didn't enjoy everything she did at that…whore house. I tried to think of a different, more polite way to word that, but it just was a whore house. I felt so sorry for Jessica, having to offer her body for money. If only… I sighed.
"You're probably right," I agreed quietly. I set my hand on the cold brick floor only to recoil – when I had put my hand down, it had stung with a sharp pain of coldness. "Come, let us go to Madame Jane's now. It is too cold for us to endure this any longer." I stood and turned to find her still lying on the cold ground.
"Would you help me up? I'm ever so sorry, Isabella, but I just can't seem to move that easily anymore." She chuckled sadly. "I'm not even old and I need help to stand," she muttered to herself.
"Do not be so ashamed of that. You have been through hard times, as have I," I said strongly with emotion in my voice. The things we had both been put through… I held out my hand for her to grasp. She tugged herself upright while I braced my foot against the brick wall. I was weaker than I thought.
"Thank you," she said quietly, looking at her reddening hands. They looked so chilled.
"Any time," I answered, starting to walk down the alley. She followed.
"Speaking of time," she started, and I could hear a little grin in her voice, "What time is it?"
"I honestly have no clue," I replied, frowning as I looked at the sky. "But I believe it is morning. When did you ask Madam Jane if you could…erm…" I trailed off, not wanting to say it aloud. I supposed I was prudish, as Lauren had told me.
"Probably about an hour ago. I went through some of the trash cans outside of Newton's to see if there was anything we could use. I found a nickel on the street while I looked for you," she said proudly.
"That's wonderful!" I replied in an enthusiastic tone. "What are you going to do with the money?" I wondered.
"Oh, I'll probably buy something for the two of us. Food, clothing, shelter…" she said with a heavy sigh.
"Perhaps we could try to save money to buy ourselves a blanket," I suggested.
"That's a wonderful idea, Isabella." She turned her head to smile at me. "I'll save half the money I receive from Madame Jane's," she promised.
"And I'll try to get a job or something. I'll even look for money in the streets if I have to," I said, determined.
"We'll have that blanket in no time!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "And with all this money we'll save together, we might be able to buy other things. I really need a new dress. You do, too," she said, looking at my roughly tattered dress. I looked down at what used to be my favorite gown in my closet. I guessed I didn't even have a closet now. The dark blue dress was torn and ripped at the ends, showing my shoes that were now almost completely broken – one of the heels had fallen off even. My dress had patches on it as well, just like Jessica's dress.
"You know, I think you're right," I said in a defeated voice. I had always said that my dress was just fine, not wanting to accept that it was worn out.
"Oh, Isabella, I'm sure we can buy you a dress that looks similar to this one when it was brand new," she said, making me feel a little better.
"Do you really think so, Jessica?" I asked.
"I know it," she said firmly. "Oh, thank goodness we're here. It's too cold to be out here."
"Agreed," I answered immediately, knocking the door. She gave me a curious look. "What? Have I done something wrong?"
"Why did you knock?" she asked. A small smile crept up her face slowly.
I wrung my hands out of a nervous habit that I'd been trying to put a stop to for years now. "Um…" was my only response.
She giggled. "Do you really think that you need to knock before going in a place like this?" she pressed further, bemused now.
"No, I suppose not," I muttered, looking at the snowy greeting mat. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
A few seconds passed, and she said, "Well, go on. Open the door." I opened it without another word.
Updates (for this story) will be based on how much time I have for right now. I'm trying to focus on Paparazzi and His Secretary, Love, and Obsession until they're finished. And, no, I'm not going to take like three months to update. That'd just be plain darn mean. I can't do that to my readers! :)
Oh! And if people like this story, I'll be writing another called The Blood Slave's Captor or something like that (I'm not exactly sure about the title yet). It'll be the same story, only in Edward's POV.
*People who don't have an account on this site can review my story also (because I accept 'Anonymous' Reviews).
Thanks for reading and please review! I'll send a teaser to those who've enabled PMs.