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Live, fight, crawl back inside.
Breaking Benjamin ~ Crawl
Chapter Two
Emmett gave me a very pointed look before reaching for the lock on my collar. Yeah, my fucking collar.
The goddamn thing was so tight that if I even started to think about phasing, I got short of breath. I think it was fucking forged with bridge grade metal or something, because even if I shifted, it didn't creak.
Once with the constricting collar still on, I'd accidentally phased. Pain and asphyxiation didn't cut it. Had I not started to panic, I probably would have been able to simply shift back and everything would have been ay-okay. Well 'okay', as far as this fucked up situation goes…
Really, I remember I'd already been pissed enough to shift without wanting to that day, so when I started to suffocate, dry heaving in a fetal position on the floor, everything was made that much worse.
I was sure I would have died if Emmett hadn't have come for me. My reflexive gagging and the general commotion had alerted them, so Bitch sent Emmett down to get me to knock it off. He ended up finding me twitching on the floor, strangled by the metal collar they made me wear. Like an actual dog. Yeah, the irony wasn't lost on me.
Had I not been passed out, I'm pretty sure I could have made my escape that night, Emmett had taken off my collar and left the door wide open in his own panic to save my life.
Emmett had a conscience, you see. He didn't like this situation I was in, but he accepted it because ultimately, I did kill his brother. That, and the fact that Bitch was a real bitch when she didn't get her way.
I'm pretty sure Emmett just kept me prisoner so he could get laid.
His dubious eyes were still on me, silently apprehensive. I rolled my eyes at Emmett to let him know that there wouldn't be any funny business.
I learned early on that funny business never got me anywhere. Funny business just meant a lot of unnecessary pain.
With my limited diet, my strength was… pretty much human. I was still big and I was still strong, but without proper fuel, I couldn't exactly do the same damage on Emmett, or Bitch, like I had on Edward.
Bitch, and her scary face, rarely visited my personal little Hell Cell anymore. Every time she did, I ended up… healing. Healing after breaking that is. I'd repeatedly broken and set my own bones more times than I could count on one hand, thanks to her.
She was such a bitch though, I couldn't help myself.
Her eyes were lurid, glowing bright ocher in the dim light. The hate, the anger, all of it was clear on the tight lines of her perfectly structured face.
"You know, Rosalie, you have the same face on every time you come down here." She ignored me, so I took it as my cue to happily continue. "You better be careful, it's sure to get stuck like that one of these days, and I gotta say, it's mighty unattractive." I raised a condescending eyebrow at her, practically singing the last words out. It's pathetic, I know, but this was pretty much my only form of entertainment. I just got a strange kick out of seeing her pissed. As I waited patiently, the banshee continued to ignore me completely. That was no good. New strategy: "Or perhaps, you'll just be the first vampire to get wrinkles?" She simply smirked to herself with an annoying is-that-all-you-got-look on her face. Well, at least she wasn't blocking me out completely. She was just pretending she was. Hah. Approach number three: "Actually, are those… Christ, Rosalie, you have crows feet!"
Her nostrils flared and before I could blink, I was smashing against the hard wall, my shoulder shattering. I kept from crying out, but just barely. I really had to learn to just keep my mouth shut, but I fucking couldn't. Six years in this goddamn cell and I still managed to piss Rosalie off every time she came down here.
It was why Emmett took care of me most of the time. I'm sure Rosalie wanted me dead, but she wouldn't do it herself, either because of her family or Bella or possibly even Edward. That scenario however, meant Blondie had to have some sort of conscience. Maybe that was a long stretch and really, she just wanted to prolong the suffering. So, instead, they caged me like a dog. Six fucking years had passed and I hadn't seen the sun once. I missed it.
A year later, that shoulder still wasn't back to normal. A leg or an arm I could line up and reset, but a shoulder… If I ever saw a mirror, I'd probably find out I looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Quasimodo was a pretty fitting role for me though. I killed the corrupt Claude Frollo after he desecrated the beautiful Esmerelda.
Haha, Frollo, ha-fucking-ha.
I sighed to myself. My mind was getting more outrageous everyday. I had forgotten what the ocean breeze smelled like long ago, but my mind could recall Quasimodo, Frollo, and Esmerelda perfectly.
"Hey, is your mom's name short for Esmerelda?" I asked Emmett randomly.
His eyebrows rose dramatically, probably wondering why the fuck I just asked that for.
"Never mind," I decided. It was nice to be able to talk, though. To use my voice through the medium of words. The gag hurt like a motherfucker and they didn't trust me to keep quiet with it off.
They had good reason.
I'd probably sing "Oklahoma!" on the top of my lungs just to piss Bitch off.
"Did Bitch take the little bitch out for some bitch time?" I asked gruffly. I tried to clear my throat, but if didn't help at all.
He gave me my first warning look. I usually got three of those before he made me shut the fuck up. He was kind of an okay guy, if you didn't take into account the fact that he had me chained to his basement wall.
A specially designed basement wall.
With soundproofing.
And no air conditioning.
I suppose an individual air conditioner for a hidden room would seem a little…odd.
Because the hidden room wasn't odd enough on its own.
How the hell they managed to build that room was beyond me. I'm pretty sure Emmett did it himself, to avoid the questions. The hidden room would have seemed weird to anyone building it. Add in the fact that it had to be sound-and-werewolf-proof and red flags would have gone up like fireworks on Fourth of July.
And the room was definitely werewolf-proof. It was even vampire-proof.
Emmett gave me a demonstration my first night. It's a miracle I even remembered it, because that had been a really bad night. I'm glad I did though. It's one of the few things that are slightly humorous in my dismal life.
Watching a vampire run full speed into a wall repeatedly, head butting it like a ram, definitely counted as slightly humorous. Even if seven years ago it had meant the same thing as it did today.
There was no escaping that room.
Except for my scheduled meal times and bathroom breaks.
Which I was on now.
I was even allowed a shower today, which I was extremely happy about. Bitch and the little bitch must have gone far enough away that they didn't have to worry.
My meal was even on the larger side. I stupidly questioned Emmett about it.
He just shrugged. "You've been pretty good lately."
"The prisoner behaves and he gets bigger meals. You know I'm surprised you're not throwing lotion at me and yelling, 'It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.'"
"Yeah, I won't be wearing your skin anytime soon, Black. Shut up and eat your food."
I didn't miss the guilt and anguish behind the mask of indifference he put on.
I'm pretty sure this prisoner bullshit got to Emmett a lot more than he allowed himself to show, or maybe even to know. Buffalo Bill was definitely one of the tamer prisoner-holding creeps I'd compared him to, but it never ceased to make him flinch when I did it.
I ate in silence, staring disdainfully at the dark room I would be returning to shortly. Not that the basement, bathroom or sitting area was much better. I wasn't allowed near any windows.
I hadn't seen the outside world since that day approximately seven years ago.
His ashes smoldered thickly. I was caught somewhere between laughing and crying hysterically. The only sound I could hear anymore was the pounding in my ears.
Thump-THUMP Thump-THUMP Thump-THUMP Thump-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP THUMP-THUMP THUMP-THUMP THUMP-THUMP, THUMP THUMP THUMP, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
It was as if instinctually, my body sensed the impending danger, but my comparatively slower mind didn't know what was coming. My heart was racing, but all I could hear, all I could feel was the pounding in my head. All I could see and smell was the thick, vile smoke of the dead vampire's burned remains.
The thump-thump somehow became even more unsteady. My body was reacting, or trying to, but my mind was far, far away.
A final thump had ended everything.
I remember waking up in darkness. Bits and pieces came back to me slowly and with an odd sense of order.
Over the years I'd put together what must have happened.
I believe it was Emmett who had come after me. He'd hit me hard, like really, really hard, over the head. The Bitch told everyone I was dead, or something. I don't really know for sure what she told them, but I knew they had no clue I was chained up in her basement. I had to assume they thought I was dead.
From that point until I woke up in my 'room', I was basically unconscious for one reason or another–either drug induced or blow-to-the-head induced. Something told me that horse tranquilizers were involved more than they needed to be though.
Every time the Cullens came to visit, I was put in a lockdown that was literally a form of cruel torture.
I couldn't move for an undetermined amount of time, as they chained me down tighter than Hannibal Lector himself. They closed all my vents, except for a few tiny holes in the heavy door that allowed me to keep from suffocating. But the room usually ended up swelteringly hot and it smelled worse than a decaying body if they left me down there long enough.
In the beginning, they did so frequently.
Although I was sure the four of us were a great distance from the other Cullens, when Renesmee was in her holy-shit-I-blinked-and-she-aged-ten-years stage, the Cullens had been around often.
I don't know how they managed to keep me alive.
But they had.
Now, except for the occasional visit, we were mostly left alone.
It seemed so odd to me, because the Cullens had been such an intertwined family. But I eventually realized that their missing link was gone.
Edward had been a big part of that perfect little family. Then when he disappeared, they all split apart.
Had they killed me and stayed together as one, raising the Little Princess together, I can only imagine what she would have turned out like.
I bet they were still grieving over the loss of him, and the Baby Genius was probably a decently perceptive one. She would have ended up either sadistic or emotionally crippled growing up with six despairing vampires breathing down her neck.
Not that I cared.
The only ones I supposed were at all suspicious were Jasper and Alice. Jasper because there was a chance he could feel me. Alice because she probably wondered why the hell she couldn't see shit, even when Renesmee wasn't involved.
Inherently, I was involved in every decision Emmett or Bitch made, therefore, it probably left most of their future blank to the seer.
Esme and Carlisle were both too kindhearted to assume their beloved children would do such a disgustingly terrible thing as keep the were-boy in their basement.
"You gotta go back in now, Black," Emmett said, showing the odd meekness he presented every time he had to put me back.
"Can I walk around down here a little? It's not like I'm fast anymore…" I trailed off hopelessly.
"No can do. Sorry," he muttered.
I growled, despite the inclination to believe that it wasn't really Emmett's fault. "Fine, but what if you leave my collar off a few minutes in the room. I'm really sore."
Emmett shook his head.
I wasn't going to beg. Besides, even if I did, he wouldn't give in anyway. There was no leeway. Something about, "Once leeway is given, it's expected. I can't be the good cop and the bad cop."
I didn't bother to point out, at the time, that he was really neither, and that that speech had Charlie Swan all over it.
I didn't struggle as Emmett pulled me up and led me back to the cell. I was immobile until the collar and lock was back in place, then I sank down against the wall to start all over again.
– – –
I could hear them above me again. Her voice really sounded a lot like Bella's. That, or I just couldn't remember Bella's voice clearly anymore.
Emmett had replaced my gag about ten minutes before they arrived home. He showered in the bathroom and probably burned his clothes, getting rid of any trace of my scent on him.
I was under the impression that even though the half-vamp child had keen senses, she really wasn't as advanced as her immortal family. She couldn't seem to detect my scent, hear my heart, or even hear me shuffling around, though I knew the full-bloods –full-venoms?– could, when the vents were open at least.
Her laugh and voice were very expressive. Hard to ignore. It was easy to tell when she was lying or truly happy. Just like Bella. Just like Bella, but strangely different at the same time. I couldn't describe it.
From where I was confined, I could smell her too. It was everywhere, thick and unavoidable in the air. It really bothered me that her scent didn't make me nauseous. She just didn't smell sickly sweet like the others did. She smelled warm, and like honeysuckle, or something stupid and girly.
Or maybe she smelled like sunshine…
Not that I cared.
– – –
I woke up with a sharp pang centered in my jaw. I realized I had my jaw locked around my gag and quickly released it, groaning as the pain persisted. It continued to throb and twinge painfully as another ache settled in.
The dreams had come just as always. Only they were slightly more vivid. How could they even get anymore vivid? The blood was so fucking bright. There was just so much of it.
How could he have thought she would live? He was so much more stupid than anyone gave him credit for. Nothing could have saved her then. Only I could have saved her… before he…
Her eyes. God, her eyes had been so terrifyingly empty. All the life was just… gone. She was gone, it was obvious even in her eyes.
Bella's eyes were always so full of life.
But he took that away, too.
It occurred to me then that the reason the dream had been so much more vivid was because it was the actual memory, not a dream. It wasn't even my memory. It was the memory I'd passed on to Seth or Leah when I'd been dragging his body away, played back as new as it had been that day.
I had suppressed enough over the years that usually the dreams kind of remained blurred. But with the memory through someone else's eyes, it was fresh and bright and painful. Like reliving it all over again. Watching her die. The blood everywhere...
Trying to distract myself from the memory, I again tried to figure out how to escape. I knew it was useless, because after seven years there still weren't any options for me, but it kept the mind occupied. It kept me focused. It kept me holding onto some semblance of sanity.
Even if I could work this collar off somehow or manage to suffocate for a few moments, phasing was basically pointless.
That day I'd killed him, Seth and Leah had seen through my eyes exactly what was going on. Those two were fast, but not fast enough. I'm sure they saw me get knocked out and after that, I kind of just… disappeared.
Sam's best, and only, option would have been to get the whole pack together again, under his reign, to hunt. But I knew that none of the Cullens had been found. Every last one of them had disappeared, and along with them, I had as well. And Bella too.
Sam definitely had the entire pack as one, which left me alone. Even if I did shift, no one would hear me, because I was a lone wolf. A pack of one.
Alone…
A/N: hennaluv rocks my socks, Strae floats my boat, Stephenie Meyer owns everything, I'm still broke as a joke...You know, the usual.
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