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Welcome to Volterra

"Caius, surely you see the potential. I haven't seen a prospective talent so promising since we found Jane and Alec. Can you imagine the possibilities when she is one of us?" - Aro Edward is gone. Jacob never came to Bella's room. She is alone. What happens when she goes to Italy for her senior class trip?

This is my second fic and my first attempt at a multichaptered fic.

17. Chapter 17: Revenge

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After several failed attempts, today I was finally able to get passed those filthy mutts and make it into Forks. With the wolves obviously distracted and her precious little Edward and his coven gone, she had no one to protect her now. The time for my revenge was here. A mate for a mate.

Edward was going to pay for taking my James away from me. He was going to experience the pure agony I've dealt with every second for the last year, the perpetual torment of continuing to exist after losing one's mate. The only thing that had gotten me through the last year was my all-consuming need to make Edward Cullen suffer for what he did to my James, to me. I was going to inflict on him that same crippling pain, and he would have to live with it for eternity, knowing it would never subside.

Bella Swan was going to die today. She wasn't just going to die; she was going to suffer. I was going to take my time and torture her body the way my mind has been tortured. I was going to show that human what real pain was.

I thought I would start by ripping out her hair. Then I would take a pair of rusty pliers and pull out her teeth. I would use the same pliers to yank the nails off her fingers and toes. Of course, some bones would need to be broken. Some body parts would need to be severed, perhaps an ear, some fingers, and her tongue. And lastly, I would rip out her human heart and send it to him with a small note, letting him know I was the one to take his mate away from this earth, from him. Ah, yes! Sweet, sweet revenge. I could taste it.

I ran through the trees to avoid the pockets of sunlight that occasionally peeked out of the clouds, daydreaming. I pictured the look of terror in her eyes as she first realizes that I found her and there is no one to protect her this time. I pictured the panic in her face as she tries to run and finds it impossible to escape me. I imagined the high-pitched sound of her screams as I kicked her in the ribs. I could hear her desperate voice as she begged for mercy, begged me to kill her to put an end to her suffering. I visualized her cowering in fear and wincing in pain. This was going to be fun.

I let loose a maniacal laugh and then froze. I had reached the tree line and was looking at the small white house, which she called home.

I surveyed the area. There was an old, beat-up red pick-up truck in the drive, but the house was unoccupied. The whole street appeared to be vacated. There wasn't a single voice or heartbeat in my hearing range. I would wait.

Not concerned with being seen, I ran up to the house. I let myself right in the front door. The stupid human left the key under the eave, not that I needed a key or a door for that matter.

I walked into the small entryway, not bothering to turn on the light. I caught a faint hint of her scent and followed it up the stairs and into a room with a rocking chair, desk, and a small bed with a purple quilt. Here in her bedroom, her scent was the strongest, but it was still weak, stale. It had to be over a week old. Was she with him? Did he come back for her? It would make my revenge that much sweeter. If he was there, I could see the look on his face as he watched her die.

I began to search her room for any evidence of where she might have gone. The room was so neat. It barely looked lived in. I rummaged through the papers on her desk. It was all schoolwork. The most recent was dated nearly two weeks ago. I upturned the small waste bin next to the desk, nothing but some crumpled up paper and tissues. I searched her closet and emptied the black trash bag haphazardly shoved in the corner. Desperate, I bent down and looked under the bed, only dust bunnies.

I left the small room to explore the rest of the house when the other scent caught my attention. This scent was much stronger, as recent as a few hours ago. I followed it into a somewhat larger bedroom, where a salty aroma was added to it. I traced the salt to the bed, the slightly damp pillow. Tears.

Abandoning my search, I decided to follow the scent; perhaps it would also lead to the girl. It led me down into the kitchen and then back out the front door and into the driveway. It was there that the scent disappeared. He was no longer on foot, harder to track.

I skirted around town, sticking to the trees. His scent was everywhere.

I came to spot near where a large crowd was gathered, and caught his scent in the mix. It wasn't the only scent I caught. The area reeked of an awful wet dog smell, but it kept the bloodlust at bay. Staying down wind to keep the mutts from getting a whiff of my own scent, I quickly climbed a tall pine to get a better view of the town gathering.

The only sounds coming from the somber crowd were some sobs and one firm yet caring voice.

"God, our Father, we entrust Isabella Marie Swan into your hands."

The minister let three handfuls of soil fall onto the casket, saying: "From dust you came, to dust you shall return. Jesus Christ, our Savior, shall raise you up on the last day."

She is DEAD! Anger boiled under my skin, and I struggled to suppress the feral growl rising in my chest. My James is dead! He destroyed my love to save the wretched life of a stupid human girl. And only a year later, he deemed that life so insignificant he left it unprotected to die a pathetic human death, not even bothering to return for the funeral. My James was worth a thousand human lives, let alone one little pet abandoned and left for dead.

I saw red. It was no longer a mate for mate. They would all pay. The whole damn coven with their strange piss yellow eyes would die, and I would save loverboy for last. He would see everything he knows and loves destroyed and know that he was next.

The wind shifted direction. The breeze blew my hair in my face. One of those stinkin' dogs must have caught my scent, because I felt my familiar instinctual pull that always kept me out of danger. It tugged on my mind, leading me north, and I took off leaping from tree to tree.