A/N: Just an idea that popped into my head

Disclaimer: Do not own Twilight

I awoke with a start, eyes opening wide.

For a moment everything was blurry, my eyes slick with moisture as if I'd been crying and they'd overflowed with tears.

Then as I blinked the moisture away, detail came into focus.

At first, all I could see was gray. Gray boxy fields of color, in various shades - like a Rothko painting I'd once seen as a child on a school field trip.

But that was odd - my apartment wasn't gray at all. My roommate and I had opted out of painting our walls when we'd first moved in. After all, we were going to be graduating college soon, and Jessica had rolled her eyes when I'd mentioned painting them.

It'd be such a hassle painting it all back to white when we move out. So, better not to, right?.

I'd liked color though - I'd never lived in a room where my walls weren't painted some fun shade of fuchsia or chartreuse - the more exotic the better. It was one of the only things I'd shared with my extroverted mother, a love for color.

But I was quiet, shy Bella and I didn't want to rock the boat. At least, not with one year to go at UW before I earned my bachelor's degree. So I'd acquiesced. I could survive a year of white walls.

But this gray - it wasn't right. Nothing looked familiar.

Some unidentified emotion was beginning to rise in my chest, akin to what I'd felt while watching horror movies, or when I'd walked into lecture and forgotten a homework was due.

A horrified realization.

Where was I?

And why, as I raised my hands to my face to brush against the stickiness on my skin, did it smell like blood in here?

It was dark here too, where ever I was. But not dark enough for me to miss the dark red fluid smeared across my hands as I took them off of my face to stare.

There was blood on my face.

"Oh fuck"

My voice breaking through the quiet startled me. Because it didn't sound like my voice.

Instead, it reminded me of the voices I'd heard on the radio late at night, low pitched and sensual, a kind of rawness that didn't match my normally higher pitched voice.

I'd been told once, by a college dorm mate freshman year, when I'd laughed loudly at a joke, that my voice pierced through walls. My cheeks had flooded with shame, and I'd made sure to avoid laughing in his vicinity after that. Not easy, when we all lived in one big hall. But I'd managed.

This voice would never do that.

And the blood on my face told me something was very wrong.

Had I been screaming? Because as I moved my hand to my throat I was suddenly aware of a deep throbbing ache. It was so parched that as I attempted swallow I grimaced in pain.

I was so thirsty. I would kill for a glass of water.

But as I ran my eyes around the gray around me, some sort of warehouse I could now see, I could identify nothing that would assuage my thirst.

My temper flared, red flaring across my vision.

Where. The. Fuck. Was. I?

That startled me too. I wasn't the type to get so angry so easily. That kind of rage that was more of a once per year kind of thing.

But I was also starting to freak out, a hysteria that felt so familiar to me, the spike of anxiety that was normally so irrational seemed so rational in this instance.

I was alone and bleeding in a warehouse and I didn't know where I was.

And, as I patted my pockets, with no cell phone.

The last thing I could remember was walking home in the early morning after pulling an all-nighter on campus. Then, nothing.

Wherever I was, I needed to get out. Whoever had put me here, whatever had happened even though I remembered none of it meant that I had to get out of here and get help.

I stood up, and in a weird moment of disconnect the time between my thought to stand and me actually standing was almost instantaneously.

I reached up to touch my head, momentarily surprised by how soft my hair felt, to prod my head for lumps.

I felt nothing, but the strangeness in how my body was moving, how it felt, how I sounded made me wonder if something had happened, if I had hit my head really hard against something.

Or, I thought, remembering my memory loss, someone had hit me really hard.

As I took my first tentative steps toward where I thought there was a door, I stopped, puzzled. My footsteps were so loud.

Each brush of my foot against the floor was so loud, and I wasn't even trying to stomp hard. They weren't injured either - in fact, my legs felt great, better than normal.

Like the rest of me, even despite the blood on my face.

Everything except my throat. As I thought about it now, it burned even more painfully.

I really needed to find some water. I was most likely severely dehydrated, especially for it to be hurting so much.

As I continued walking towards what I could now see was yes, a door, something brown skittered across my vision.

Thud thud thud.

The sound blasted against my ears until it was all I could hear.

Thud thud thud.

My mouth filled with saliva, practically dripping - but I didn't have time to be disgusted with myself. In another weird disconnect, I was suddenly on the floor kneeling, my hands wrapped around the creature, pressing my mouth against the warm squirmy something to bite.

The flesh parted beneath my teeth easily and I was drinking, the warm liquid going down my throat and soothing the burn.

After being so thirsty for so long, I was momentarily thrust into a wave of pleasure so strong I was struck with the wonder of it.

Was this what having sex was like? Was this what I had been missing out on all of those years?

The pulse of liquid down my throat raised, heightening my joy, and then receded all together as I made my last swallow.

I came back into my body abruptly, feeling as though someone else - something else - had been in charge.

I was holding the carcass of a bloody creature.

With blood all over my face, in my mouth, and down my throat.

And I had loved every second of it.

I had wondered where the blood on my face had come from.

Now I knew.

No no no.

I stood up in a blind panic and made for the doors. And again, it was like the thought had crossed my mind, and suddenly it was happening - the metal doors parting beneath my hands like paper.

I was running hard, panting, and I almost couldn't process the information of what greeted me.

It was bright, too bright and then suddenly the all of the details were swamping my vision, and the noises were too strong.

Until a voice cut across the confusion, and a shadow was standing over me, blocking out the light.

"What are you doing here?"

So there it is! Let me know what you think. This was not proof-read so all errors are mine.

I hope to update this fairly regularly since I have an idea of where this is going.

Thanks for reading!