Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Beta: McVampy (love you darling!)

Shoutouts: Litnerd, Dreaming in black and white, Heatherxdawn and my wifey, xparawhorextwerdx

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I was ushered into the box seat of the theatre with my sister Rosalie. I couldn't tell you how I came to be here, in the old theatre with its Victorian decor. The floors were covered in thin, red carpet. The seats were wooden, mahogany, giving the feel of church pews. The banisters and railings a dirty white porcelain. Various pictures coated the walls, to a human eye, they would be difficult to see from such a distance, but I memorised each detail with ease. I was brought out of my delirium when I felt the warm touch of my sister's hand against my own. It was strange how it felt so. To a human, a vampiric touch would be extremely cold, and, to a vampire a human touch extremely warm. I averted my gaze to my sister, who squeezed my hand lightly in reassurance. I felt my lips curl into a half grin as I gazed at her topaz eyes. Rosalie was beautiful, but not in a way that attracted me to her. Once upon a time, it was thought that both Rosalie and I would become mates, but we were too different. At times, Rosalie could be extremely vain and self-centred, and it irked me. She seemed to despise me for rejecting her at first, it wasn't something she was used to. As a human, she was beautiful, and becoming a vampire only heightened this, making her incapacitatingly so. My rejection came as an extreme shock.

None of this mattered now, she had Emmett for that type of love. The love we felt for each other was that of brother and sister, and it couldn't have been more apparent than it was at this very moment. I held tightly to her hand as the lights in the theatre dimmed. It seemed extremely eerie, and all thought around me was reduced to a distant hum, all apart from Rosalie's. She was as confused as I was. We both had no idea what we were doing in this old, desolate building. Where was Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Alice or Jasper? Why was it just us two in this vunerable, unguarded state?

Suddenly, the red velvet of the stage curtain rose, it wavered slightly as it was tugged upwards, giving the illusion that it was a stream, or flow, of brilliant red blood. I cringed slightly at the thought and felt Rosalie's hand tighten in my own. If she had a pulse, I would be certain that her heart would be racing frantically, that I would feel the pulse beating against her wrist. She was, however, breathing erratically, a trait ingrained in her from living around humans for so long. Breathing, although we didn't need it, was second nature to us. I listened to the air being drawn in and out of her nostrils as I watched the curtain make its final assent. The small, rhythmic beating of a tambourine started to pulse throughout my body. It was followed by that of a violin, then a flute. The melody of the music seeming to wrap around my senses, like an invisible rope of ribbon, constricting, getting tighter, I was unable to move or think clearly.

The lights suddenly brightened and the wooden platform, which made up the stage, was now decorated. It seemed like the stage of a children's play, maybe something like "Little Red Riding Hood." The mural behind was that of a forest, with painted, cardboard cutouts of trees placed further forward, so the actors could hide behind them, or move through them as if in a real forest. The only undecorated part was the floor, which was wooden, the same rich texture of that of the walls. The grains of wood so distinct that even a human would notice them.

The hum of music stopped abruptly and the invisible ribbon unfurled, bringing me a moment of relief. Rosalie was now leaning forward in her seat, both of her hands curled lightly around the banister of the box. I turned my attention back to the stage. In the centre stood a dark figure, a black cloak stretched from the figure's shoulders to the floor, where it created a light breezing sound as the figure took a step forward. Two white arms peered from beneath the cloak and lifted the fabric from his head. I say his, because the being was male. I took a sharp intake of breath as I began to realise who this was. The papery, translucent skin, showing each and every blue tinge of vein, the sunken hollows around his eyes, the clouded, milky red of his irises. Then there was his hair. Black and silky and reaching his shoulders in a flowing line. Aro. I had seen his face in three places. One in Carlisle's office on a painting, one in Carlisle's mind, from his time spent in Volterra, and once when I visited Volterra myself, in which to try and end my existence.

The mere thought of my existence took me down the route I had hoped not to think about in this strange parallel universe. Bella. My Bella. She was in Forks with Charlie right now, whilst I was in Paris. I missed her, I missed her touch, her freesia and strawberry scent, I missed her laugh, I missed everything about her, except the blood lust. That was the one part of me I despised, the fact that every moment we are together, there is a small part of me that wants to kill her. However, I've never been more in control of that side of my nature as I am now. The thought of losing Bella was enough to drive the monster deep inside me, locked away.

I shook my head and returned my gaze to the stage. Standing next to Aro were his two brothers--Marcus, looking utterly bored, and Caius, with his snowy white, shoulder length hair and sour expression. It seemed surreal to see them here and not in Volterra. There were no thrones, and seemingly, no guards.

I spoke too soon. The rows beneath lit up in a warm, orange glow. My senses were still clouded so I didn't realise the beings sat beneath the three brothers. I glanced at each face. Jane, smiling like an angel despite her demonic features, Demetri, staring intently at Aro, and Felix, smirking in his arrogance, his cockiness. I wondered where the rest of the Volturi guard were, but they must have remained in Volterra, or be elsewhere, dealing with the law breakers of our world. I tried to relax upon realising that, if both Rosalie and I were in danger, we would be able to escape. There were more exits here, and although Jane and Demetri were talented enough to attack and track, they would not be able to move as fast as we could. They were not as intelligent, as cunning, despite being part of the most powerful family in existence.

Immediately, my body tensed as Aro began to speak. He clapped his hands together excitedly as he did so. "I would like to take the opportunity to thank Edward and Rosalie for joining us this evening," he said. His wry smile seemed to be stuck to his features. He inclined his head in our direction and I felt a low growl erupt from my chest. Rosalie's hand found mine and she squeezed tightly again. The drug-like effect that had held me for the last twenty minutes had now passed. I could see every thought in Aro's mind, and at last, I knew why I was here. Aro had threatened to take a member of our family as punishment for bringing Bella into our world. This seemed hypocritical, seeing as Gianna, the receptionist at Volterra, was indeed human. Of course Aro argued that, unless Bella was to be changed, she would die. We had agreed to change her, but Aro saw my hesitancy. Until Bella was changed, he wanted to take Alice. A temporary loan to ease his mind. Of course we disagreed to this, and so now Aro had both Rosalie and me in this strange theatre, about to watch some sort of show. None of this made sense.

I tried to gather clues from the minds around me, but the Volturi guards and the brothers themselves were blocking me from gaining the knowledge that I sought. The only voice I could hear was Rosalie's. Confusion and fear was etched into her thoughts. I swallowed back the venom pooling in my mouth and sat motionless in the chair beneath me. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. The orange glow of lights from the audience seats had now vanished, and the lighting of the stage became extremely bright. I glanced in shock at the sight below me. I wanted to scream, but no sound would emanate from me. I wanted to move, but my body was still reeling in shock. Rosalie's hand was crushing against my own now, her eyes wide in horror, black due to the terror and confusion we both felt. Standing in the middle of the stage, surrounded by the three Volturi brothers, was Bella. My Bella.

I looked closely at her features. Tears were flowing effortlessly down her cheeks, her eyes sunken and red through sleep deprivation. She was trembling in fright. She seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings as Aro closed in upon her. I heard her inaudible whispers, begging for him not to hurt her. I felt every syllable as she begged him to let her live. "Bella, child, how fair would it be to let you live when others do not get to choose whether they are to live or die? Fate chooses this moment for you. Why not die now, whilst you are youthful and not old and decrepitt?" Aro's voice seemed to pierce my heart and I heard the faint whimpers coming from Bella. "Would you rather I killed someone else Bella? Would you like to choose who should die in your place?" Aro seemed to be enjoying this psychological torture. "No!" Bella screamed, her voice cracking into sobs.

"Very well," spoke Aro as he took Bella's wrist. He caressed it delicately with his nose, an action I had named, smelling the bouquet yet resisting the wine. I doubted this is what Aro had in mind. He kissed the back of her hand, then turned her hand over, before plunging his teeth into the skin. A soft whimper erupted from Bella, her fatigue taking over, her strength drained. Then everything fadedto black.

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A/N : Tell me what you thought of the first installment. R and R babes xxxxxxx