Jars

The first thing that i noticed when I awoke was the splitting headache that appeared to have crept up inside my head. An agonizing throbbing that was threatening my sanity at that very moment. Next was the floor. Its cold surface felt red hot on my now bare torso. Hold on. Somebody had taken my t-shirt. I was wondering if it was my captor, but it could have been some punks doing it for a laugh. A sick laugh. I dared to raise my head, but lowered it again as the throbbing in my head became unbearable.

So many questions raced through my head, pounding from the inside of my skull trying to break free. Where was I? Why was I here? Who brought me here? And the most terrifying question- what did they want with me? I could only begin to imagine what would happen next, but I knew that it wasn't going to be tea and biscuits, and that I would find out soon enough. But I had already decided that I wasn't going to give up without a fight. I had the pepper spray that Charlie had given me in my jacket pocket… Oh shoot. I didn't have my jacket any more. Well anyway, I shouldn't be scared. I've been lured into a dance hall by a psycho, been in love with a vampire and had venom injected into my wrist. This should be a walk in the park for me. Then why was I trembling?

The anxiety that I was feeling was indescribable. My blood pulsing and my head throbbing. Although my head was still excruciatingly painful it had eased off enough so that I could sit up. I examined my surroundings and tried to take my mind off what might happen to me. The thought was not pleasant.

The room around me was grey and bare, exactly how I would imagine a middle aged prison to look like minus the rats. I hoped. There was a stone bench at one end, the one that I had woken up on, and a door at the other end. The door was made out of metal not wood I noticed. Maybe they thought that I was dangerous. Or maybe they were just cautious.

My answer came soon enough. At first I heard the unbolting of the door. Then the unlocking. And finally the opening of the shutters. The door opened with a groan, and in stepped a man, a scar down running down the left side of his pale white skin. His hair, once a smooth black was now a ragged piece of fur on top of his balding head. Despite this he was beautiful. His light blue eyes glistened like the Mediterranean Sea on a summer's day, and his smooth skin, despite the scar seamed to be like sand, smooth and elegant, but could scatter at the slightest wind.

"Up." He said, in a cold harsh voice.

"No." I was determined not to be intimidated. Then he glared at me, a terrifying glare that pierced my protective shell of confidence like it was nothing but a bubble.

"Up." He said once more. My earlier efforts of resistance must have been in vain. Involuntarily I rose, and walked to were he was pointing. He followed me through the door, never letting me out of his sight. The corridor behind the door was cold and bare much like my room. Just like my life before Edward.

Through that corridor was another steel door he opened it to reveal a huge room. There were six walls all of them lined with jars. Each jar had a label on it. And then, to my disgust each jar had a name on it. Then my heart skipped a beat. On the third shelf up was an empty jar, this one like all of the others had a name on. But the name on this one was my name.

"Hello Isabella Swan." Said the man. "I am Gareth. And this Bella is my collection." I don't think I heard the last sentence. Because I was already unconscious when I realised what the red liquid in the jars were.