HI! I proudly present my newest story Monster. Hope you guys enjoy this story and come with me in this new adventure. I want to thank my first reader Nyvia, and to my first and second Beta Marian and Sep who helped me a lot for this to look pretty. Thanks guys! Thanks for all the encouragement and support.

Disclaimer: SM is the legal owner. I'm still have $0.00 on my back account.

Prologue: Monster

The change.

~**~Rochester, New York 1937~**~

All I felt was terror. Pure and simple terror that flooded my veins and made my lungs feel like they wanted to explode. I knew she was coming for me. I could sense her presence nearby, as if she would jump in front of me at any second. I could even feel the cold breath of death whispering in my ear, following me, sending shivers down my spine, with each step I took around the small room I was hiding.

I had almost forgotten everything that had happened some time ago with my ex-fiancé when, a few nights ago, Mathew's mother came banging on our door screaming my name incessantly, waking up the entire house. When my father woke up and ran down the stairs to open the door, the woman came directly to me and handed me a small piece of torn, bloody paper. I unfolded it carefully. The words scribbled on that paper made my heart skip a beat and made me fall to my knees.

Royce, hide. Anywhere you can. She's coming for you. Rosalie Hale is alive and she came for me. She is outside my door. -Mathew

I stared at the message for a few minutes.

"Rosalie? That can't be possible… she's dead… dead…" I mumbled, reading the small letter again and again, trying to fool myself that the name written down by Mathew wasn't Rosalie's. But I wasn't deceived. Since that night, my father, Royce King II, had hired a group of guards to keep me safe. They stood watch in front of the hotel room door where I was hiding. I was certain that they could scare her and make her leave me the hell alone, by using their Beretta's and semi automatic pistols.

I was sitting in the back of the room, sweating like a fucking pig, just waiting for her to come. I took off my shirt and tossed the wet garment on the bed. I took off my shoes and socks, because my feet were killing me from pacing, not stop for hours. The more hours and minutes passed, the more terrified I became. Her ghost, or whatever the hell she was - had killed all my friends, insanely cold-blooded deaths to all of them.

One by one, they had been taken down, in vicious ways.

Frank's head was found in his kitchen trashcan, and parts of his body were still missing. Stefan was dismembered in his dad's office at their casino, were he apparently hid for weeks.

Johnny was beaten to death; the police couldn't even determine which side of his head was the face.

And Mathew… died because of heart failure, after she knocked down his apartment door. His mother found him the next morning sprawled out in the middle of his living room, not breathing.


I was just waiting for her to arrive and kill me.

I dragged myself to the bed, resting my head on my arms trying to stay as calm as I possibly could, considering the situation at hand.

"Keep a cool head, Royce. Keep a cool head." I closed my eyes and began to think about that awful night almost two years ago. And I felt scared, but what's done is done and there was no way back, right?

I was drifting to an uneven slumber when the screams of the four guards, made me jump off the bed and hell out of my skin.

"She's… she's here." I stuttered, my voice shaking in fear. I paced around the bed, knowing full well that it was time for me to pay my dues.

I heard the distinguished sound of gunshots being fired, then muffled voices and then nothing. A tense silence filled the whole room and a few seconds later, the ear shattering screams of the four men filled the whole room, making me dizzy and sick. I vomited and stumbled to the ground, trying to get as far as possible from the door as possible. My heart was beating against my chest so hard, I was sure I was going to pass out from fear soon.

But for my mother fucking luck, I didn't.

Rosalie Lillian Hale kicked down the door in a second, and she stared at me, her eyes pierced me with an evil smile on her cherub-like face. She fixed her… red eyes? on me and smirked widely.

What happened to her? Why is she alive? I'm sure we killed her! I thought frantically as I kept my eyes on the ghostly woman.

"Now you're the one who's afraid, aren't you Royce King? I can almost taste your fear." Her voice sounded different. It was seductively, frightening and fascinating, all at the same time. She slowly walked to me. My eyes went big as saucers when I saw her in the light. Rosalie was wearing her wedding gown, the one I bought her for our wedding.

I was shocked. I shook my head several times, opened and closed my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things, but yes - she was wearing her wedding dress.

"Do you like my wedding dress, Royce? Isn't it gorgeous?" Rosalie said, turning around in circles so I could watch the dress twirled around her. White ruffles and bows flied around her sculpted body as she kept spinning around in front of me.

"Sure fits me better now, don't you think, love?" She sneered smiling.

"You are dead! I killed you myself, Rosalie!" I cried, my voice catching in my throat.

She just laughed and nodded. "Yes. You did. And now it's my turn to return the favor."

Rosalie had fun with me. She threw my body against the walls, scratched her impossibly sharp nails on my flesh, making me scream in pain. I screamed just like she did that night. A few bones were broken, penetrating my skin, my jaw was out of place for sure, and my whole body was hurting horribly. My useless legs and arms were angled in a very inhuman ways, draped around the sides of my torn body. I began to cough up blood came up in my mouth, making me almost choke on it.

I passed out, the pain becoming too unbearable and fear of death overcame me.

When I opened my eyes for the last time, I watched Rosalie's form retreating out of the room. Taking off her gloves and undoing the zipper on the back of her dress, letting it fall on the floor, she grabbed my trench coat off the desk chair and wrapped her naked body in it. Then, she disappeared.

Pain throbbed all over me, and I asked God for forgiveness, mercy and to help me die swiftly.

"I… want… to… die… I… want… to… die… God… help… me… die…" I repeated in agony. I closed my eyes when I felt that someone was beside me, staring at me curiously. I cried again, thinking that maybe Rosalie noticed that I was not dead yet, and wanted to finish the job.

I don't know if it was God who sent me there, or if Satan himself came from Hell to take me with him. The next thing I felt was a burning sensation so intense, I swear I was being scorched alive. This was my punishment for what I did to Rosalie Lillian Hale.

I was burning alive in Hell.

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Thanks for reading!