Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is only a work of fanfiction, and is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

POV: Bella, Alice

Chapter 1: Obedience

"No matter how the wind howls, the mountain will not bow to it."
-Chinese Proverb

My body betrayed me in every way as it slid against the pole in front of me. I shivered as my bare skin made contact with the metal of it, and I tried my hardest to ignore sounds and looks of approval that were coming from the audience… my audience.

I watched as rich men sat comfortably in the plush red loveseats, their eyes gliding over my figure, appreciatively… approvingly.

I shuddered as I realized I was the source of their approval. My heart fluttered at the disturbing thought. I still wasn't used to this lifestyle. It wasn't something I would have ever chosen for myself. It was something that was forced upon me.

It was this or death. And I liked to think that I was stronger then I gave myself credit for. I guess that's why I chose to continue living even if it meant being a prisoner. I wasn't sure if I could accurately define living anymore – this didn't seem to be much of an existence. And it was growing more difficult each day to recall what my life had been before this mess.

I could hear the rhythm of the music as my body swerved and swayed to it. I was clumsy, and gyrating against a pole was like a recipe for disaster for the uncoordinated. I felt my ankles shake underneath the weight -all 97 pounds- of me. And that's when I fell. It was embarrassing. Humiliating. But more then that, it was dangerous. And not because I could hurt myself, but because it gave them an excuse to hurt me.

Before I could even regain my composure, the music was shut off and I felt a set of unnaturally cold hands on my arms, ripping me off the stage. Someone was dragging me, through the doors, to the backstage. The crowd began to complain loudly, but nobody seemed to sound shocked or concerned. In a matter of seconds, the music was blaring again, no doubt so my replacement could continue where I had left off. I was abruptly thrown to the ground when we reached the small, recognizable room. I flinched as I felt the concrete aggravate the sore muscles of my back.

"Sit."

I recognized that voice. Mikey, one of my captor's bodyguards. I pulled myself from the ground, and did as I was told. At this point, disobeying would have just meant more pain. I didn't think I could hide anymore bruises. I didn't think I had the strength.

"Stay put. He ain't gunna be long."

I nodded as I felt dread and anticipation turn in my stomach unnervingly. I noticed my clothing, or lack thereof, and made an effort to cover my scantily-clad body. Hearing the door open,I braced myself as I watched him enter. Mikey shifted in a way that made him seem timid, tucking himself away in one of the darker corner of the room. It was surprising to see someone who looked so capable of defending themselves cower as he was.

He wore a suit. An onyx black suit with a gold tie and a crisp, crème coloured shirt. I recognized it to be one of his more expensive suits. Great. I had interrupted him during something important. There was a glint in his eye as the corners of his mouth tightened into a scowl. His dark, empty eyes held mine in an effort to intimidate me. It was working. He removed his suit jacket and began rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"Bella. You silly, clumsy little girl," he chuckled callously and slicked back his hair, as he stood in front of me, arms folded across his chest. I bowed my head; the shame of my appearance overwhelming me as I clenched my jaw tightly, my hands betraying my resolve as they too began shaking. I felt my body tense as my trepidation began to mount. He was livid; I could see it in his eyes. The false kindness he normally portrayed was distant, hidden in his anger. After all, there was no need for false pleasantries in my presence. Not anymore.

"I… I'm s-sorry" I managed to stutter. I was forming words, which surprised me, however incoherent they were. His hand connected with my face as he back-handed me with enough force to send me from the chair. I didn't make a sound, not even as I felt my flesh rip open as it slid across the cold concrete. It would only upset him more if he heard me vocalize my pain.

"Did you forget the golden rule, girl? You will address me as sir, and you will only speak when spoken to, scum. Now, I know you're new to this, but you can't have forgotten the rules already. You looked like a fool up there tonight. And when you look like a fool, Bella, I look like a fool. And I can't have that, now can I?"

I looked up at him, literally biting my tongue to keep myself from responding in a less then favourable manor. A very powerful and proverbial part of me wanted to tell him that he didn't deserve my respect, that I wasn't actually sorry, because I knew hadn't done anything wrong. I knew I wasn't the sinner in this situation. Despite my fear, it wasn't in my nature to allow someone to treat me this way without some kind of objection. I didn't want to get myself into more trouble though, but I could feel my temper tightening the knots in my stomach, a deep acidic burn coursing throughout my body. I settled for a simple response however. He needed no more provocation from me tonight.

"No, sir. I apologize, sir," I said obediently, lowering my gaze to stare at the floor. I could feel a blush creep onto my face. I didn't recognize this girl I was made to be. I felt as though I had been moulded from clay, like he had taken the old me, and smashed her into a thousand tiny pieces, and created an entirely new person. I didn't know how find all of those pieces, and put myself together again. The experience was paralyzing my emotions, blurring the lines of logical reasoning and emotional reasoning. Why did I feel humiliated over something that was beyond my control? Why couldn't I neatly tuck away these emotions like I was accustomed to doing?

"Well, I'd like to accept your apology, but you must accept your punishment first. And once you do, without complaint, you will be forgiven and all will be forgotten." He smiled darkly as the words left his mouth.

My stomach did back flips, wondering what kind of pain would be inflicted on me now, wondering how much more of this I could possibly take.

"Stand."

I did as I was told. "Good. You're responding quickly, despite your injuries. You're healing well from your last punishment; I like a girl that is quick to recover." He waved a hand up and down my body, obviously referring to the large, but fading bruises strewn across my pale skin. They weren't easily visible; I had slathered cover up on them to conceal them. But Richard missed nothing.

"Now, Bella. I would like you to first recite my rules; just to be sure you still remember them. You have sixty seconds to remember every rule. For every mistake, I will add thirty minutes of punishment to the hour you already have. For every second over your allotted time, I will add another hour to your punishment. Are we clear?"

Of course we were clear. Crystal clear. I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes, as my heart thudded wildly. Each beat of my heart was echoing loudly in my ears, creating a rhythm I tried to focus on to distract myself. But I was certain my heart beat was loud enough for Richard and Mikey to hear as well. I was even more certain of this when Richard smiled at me, seemingly amused by something.

My fingers twitched and my knees quivered. I felt like allowing my tears to brim over, my body to convulse in violent quakes of fear. I wanted to fall apart. But that reminded me immediately of Rule Number Seven.

So, instead of falling apart, I responded, "Yes, sir. We are clear, sir."

He smirked, his eyes surveying my body purposefully. It seemed like he was looking for signs of weakness. I tried to hide it, but the shaking of my hands and the beating of my heart were difficult to contain. He sat in the chair I had been in just minutes before, and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with a satisfied look on his face. The seriousness of his expression had vanished and was now replaced by a look of satisfaction.

"Mikey, keep the time, please. Bella, you may begin on my count of three. One, two, three…"

"One: Speak when spoken to. Two: Never disobey any command given by a superior. Three: Stay composed at all times. Never falter or do anything foolish. Three: Always refer to your superiors as Sir or Madame. Four: Never reveal anything about the Society or it's workings and make sure to maintain confidentiality at all times. Six: When you are doing what is told, do so with happy compliance. Seven: Never show any sign of weakness or displeasure, including crying, chiding, laughing, shaking, or any other noise that is perceived to be a response to pain…" Confusion muddled my brain as I struggled for control, for breath. I tried desperately to recall the rest of the rules, but there were so many, and my fear was beginning to overtake me.

"Bella, you've stopped. This means your punishment time is now at an hour and a half. I would hurry if I were you. Sixty seconds is almost up." I gulped nervously. I was immediately aware that tonight would be a very, very long night.

I lay on the frigid tiles of the bathroom floor, delighting in the contrast of the chilled tiles with my battered body. Every inch of me ached and burned. I had come into the washroom with the intention of showering after my punishment. But as soon as I had walked through the door, my body gave way and I collapsed to the floor.

I wasn't sure I could muster the strength to move, let alone to make it into the shower. I was vaguely aware of the sound of someone else entering the washroom, and turning the water on.

"Oh, Bella. You're a mess." I recognized the soft voice as Matilda's. I was grateful to have someone familiar by my side… someone safe. Matilda was another one of Richard's unwilling working women. Just like me, she was trapped here in this bleak place, with no way out.

Yet, she was possibly one of the kindest people I had encountered in my life. She had been my protector since I had first been brought here. It was my second month with Richard. In retrospect, it felt like years. My life before this seemed distant, far off, surreal. Like nothing had existed before this nightmare.

Matilda had been here for two years. She knew the ins and outs of this place better then anyone else. There were ten others, excluding Matilda and myself. All here for the same reason. No choice in the matter. Some girls were hospitable, and looked out for one another. There were some, however, who were distant and less compassionate. I didn't blame them, remaining distant and as void of emotion as possible might make survival seem more possible here.

I gasped as Matilda began undoing my red corset, pulling me out of my clothing and taking my wig off, effect, ridding me of my disguise. It was a painful process. I could feel the tenderness of my ribs and my hips and the bruises that were beginning to form. Matilda gasped as her eyes raked over my body. Hearing her response wasn't comforting. It took a lot to surprise Matilda.

"Bella, what on earth did you do?"

I shook my head in response. I wasn't sure if I could gather the strength formulate a cohesive reply. So I said nothing and waited for her to continue. She pulled my hair away from my face, and tied it into a bun as she pulled me off the washroom floor. More pain. This time, I tried not to make any sounds. I tried to be brave. Bravery was a small piece of the old Bella that I was desperately hanging onto. I needed it to endure this misery.

The cold water began to flow from the shower head and I was, for once, thankful that the water was freezing. Matilda leaned my body against the shower wall and began to lather me gently with soap. Even with her tender touches, the pain intensified and every spot she touched evoked a new sensation pain in my body.

I felt more awake after the shower. Less groggy and more aware of my surroundings. Despite the soreness, I was able to dry myself off and even make it most of the way to my cot without assistance. Matilda rummaged through my clothing trunk and pulled out a plain, eggshell white nightgown. I happily shrugged myself into it and lay down on the stiff cot, relieved to no longer have to stand.

Matilda didn't leave my side. She sat beside my bed and stroked my hair, soothing me in whatever way she could. I was torn between my desire to be alone so I could break down and my desire to have someone, anyone, comfort me. I wanted a moment to myself, to be alone with my thoughts. I normally didn't yearn for the comfort of another, but I had also never been in a situation like this one before. I wanted the reassurance Matilda provided, but I hated that I needed it. More the anything, though, I hated the feeling of loneliness that remained when she left me.

I had no one in this world anymore. My parents were long gone and I had no other relatives to turn to. I hadn't made any friends in the town I had moved to after my father, Charlie, died. I had been in Seattle for less then a week when I was abducted by Richard. My mind began to wander and I could feel myself losing control, I didn't know if I could contain my tears any longer. Memories of the night Richard had chosen and taken me flooded my mind, leaving me overwhelmed in the wake of them.

I decided that I wanted Matilda's company tonight. I decided that I wanted someone by my side tonight, someone that wouldn't abuse me, and someone that I didn't fear. Matilda would do.

We were quiet for a very long time. Matilda had moved onto the cot and now lay beside me, still stroking my hair. Neither of us was asleep. She was the first to speak, and the break in the silence was alarming, unsettling.

"Bella…" There was a note of apprehension in her softvoice. "What did you do to make Richard so angry?"

I shut my eyes in frustration. I didn't want to have this conversation tonight. I didn't want to go into details tonight. I wanted peace. I wanted company. I didn't want an interrogation. But I appreciated everything Matilda had done for me in the past, the things she continued to do despite the risk it posed to her, so I answered out of politeness.

"Tonight was my turn to dance in the Burlesque Hall," I began; startled at the ease with which I spoke. "And I always hate dancing, because I'm so uncoordinated and clumsy. It usually ends badly for me. Richard had some of his best customers in, and I stumbled while dancing for them. He said that it made him look like a fool." I sighed wearily, as I recalled the night. Matilda said nothing, just nodded her head in understanding.

"So I guess you won't be dancing for the next few weeks until you've healed and the bruises clear up." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Whenever one of us had to face a punishment, we were put on chore duty, usually because we were too bruised to be half-naked in front of an audience. Bruises weren't attractive. And they didn't exactly do much to keep Richard's secret.

"That means I'll be on chore duty," I said dully. I didn't relish the thought. It was hard labour. My days would begin at five in the morning and I would work until ten at night. I would eat two bowls of cold stew a day. Every time I went on chore duty, my weight dropped and I was usually sick for weeks after.

"Hey, at least you'll be able to go outside!" Matilda whispered, trying to sound encouraging. She could sense my unease. Going outside was the one good thing about chore duty, since it consisted of doing things both inside the 'Manor,' as Richard called it, and outside.

Richard owned the 'Manor,' an entertainment house for men. It was divided into three sections: the Burlesque Dance Hall, the Bar, and the Private Viewing Rooms. Of the three, the Bar was by far the best place to work. You just had to put up with inappropriate comments and serve drinks to rude, unruly men.

The Private Viewing Rooms were elegantly described as a place to view 'a more intimate dance by the dancers from the Burlesque Hall'. However, anybody who went to the 'Manor' knew that "private viewing" meant anything goes. A girl would be selected from a line-up and if chosen, she and the customer would go to a private room, where you had to do whatever he asked of you. Of course, this was highly illegal and Richard knew it. Only his customers that used the Private Viewing Rooms knew what they really were. It was his best kept secret, and our living nightmare.

To keep up appearances and to keep the authorities from searching the 'Manor', Richard had his girls volunteer at a local hospital just outside Seattle, doing laundry once a week. Whoever was on chore duty was responsible for taking care of the laundry that week, which meant a chance to get outside, even if only for a moment.

Despite everything, I was glad that I would get a few moments of solitude. Even if it meant dirty hospital laundry and excruciating pain. Bunking with eleven other girls in one small basement meant limited privacy and little time alone.

I allowed my eyes to flutter closed to the thoughts of the peace I would soon experience. It was a dim escape but it was time alone and I couldn't wait.

I awoke the next morning to find myself alone in my cot and that the pain had only intensified. I moved to get a better look at the clock on the wall. I winced, I was aggravating my already sore body. It was 4:30 in the morning. I was awake earlier than usual. The pain had woken me all throughout the night, and finally, I had given up on trying to fall back asleep. It seemed hopeless. I inhaled thoughtfully, being sure to move as purposefully as possible.

I wondered if chore duty would begin today. Sometimes, if Richard was in a merciful mood, he would allow the punished to take a day of rest before chore duty would start. The prospect of resting, healing without the fear of punishment was almost too much to be hoped for. I doubted Richard would be so kind. He had formulated some unfounded, but malevolent vendetta towards me, and I wasn't sure why. It was rare that he would assign me to the bar, and after a punishment, I always seemed to come back more battered then anyone else ever had. There was something about me that seemed to make him angry - even when I didn't do anything wrong, he made it clear that I also couldn't do anything right.

But I would know soon enough. If choresbegan for me today, Mikey would be in to get me in soon. I tried not to dwell on the anticipation of the day ahead of me. Instead, I tried again to memorize the room, the shape of it, its smell, the texture of it, in an attempt to distract myself.

The walls were a light grey stone and covered dirt or what appeared to be burn marks. The room was a fair size but notlarge enough to accommodate twelve cots.

My trunk contained every piece of clothing that was given to me when I arrived. I cringed in pain as I thought of how painful it would be to pull the starched white cotton shirt over the aching, torn flesh on my back. Still, anything seemed better then wearing my performance clothing. My casual, 'outdoor' clothes, as Richard called them, were to be worn on any occasion when he allowed us to leave the Manor. Leaving the Manor was a rare occurrence and many of the girls were conflicted about it.

Some were delighted to spend time outside of the confines of our prison. Others were uncomfortable with the idea of being so close to the general population. Being in public made it very difficult to abide by Richard's rules about maintaining secrecy.

I wasn't sure how I felt about leaving the Manor. In my two months with Richard, I hadn't been allowed to leave, not even to do laundry at the hospital during chore duty. He had carefully thought out time frames for everything. When you reached two months with him, you were allowed to leave on outings, work the bar, and you were given more leisurely time. After four months, when Richard was sure he could trust you, he would put you on the private viewing room rotation. Twice a week each girl was responsible for taking a private viewing room duty.

That was the part I was dreading the most. I took some comfort in knowing I still had two months before that milestone. Time seemed to creep by slowly here. And for once, I was grateful.

Suddenly, I didn't feel comfortable being alone with my thoughts. I needed a distraction… something… anything. I couldn't bear to spend another moment thinking about what I would become in two months time. It was too much. Physical pain was nothing in comparison to the emotional havoc this had unleashed in my life. Words couldn't accurately describe what it was like to feel so distant from your body that you didn't even recognize it. Every day of my life I felt as though my body and soul were being invaded in the most private and intimate of ways. I had never felt so broken before, not even when my parents died.

The thought of my parents brought tears to my eyes and I knew I had to keep myself busy until my day officially started. I decided a shower would be best. I carefully lifted myself from my cot, grabbed my towel from my trunk and rid myself of the night gown I had been wearing.

The cold water of the shower was soothing on my bruises and contusions. I knew this shower would probably be longer than usual. My muscles throbbed, vividly reminding me of last night.

Again, I tried to focus on my surroundings. I stood in the third shower of five tucked away in the corner of the washroom. A thin white curtain stretched across the expanse of the area, barely long enough to cover two of the stalls. I hadn't bothered to pull the curtain across to cover myself. There was little left to the imagination of my roommates ormy captors. Privacy was not a priority here.

Truth be told, I missed Phoenix. I missed the warmth, the sun, the freedom, my mother. I missed the things that were familiar and safe. Here, in my hell, nothing was safe and nothing familiar. And I was the complete opposite of free.

I was a prisoner.

APOV

Think, Alice, think! Where could she be? I shouted in my head. It seemed useless, something told me I couldn't interfere with this vision, anyway. This was a matter of fate. Any interruption could mean altering that fate and destroying Edward's future.

I couldn't do that, not when we were so close. I had waited for years for something that would bring Edward happiness. Living with him for decades, watching his motivation squander, sadness gnawing at him was painful for me as well. And although I knew the near future would hold more pain, I also knew that it would hold the source of Edward's greatest happiness. Who was I to mess with that? Oh, the power of omniscience, and the responsibilities that came with it.

Jasper reached for my hand and grasped it in his own. I was only vaguely aware of his presence until then. I smiled in response, trying to reassure him that I was fine. I knew I didn't fool him. He could sense every emotion I was feeling. He knew my own emotional state better then I knew it myself.

I was thankful that the others were hunting today and wouldn't be back until later. I needed to figure out a way to keep Edward from seeing my vision, just until he found her. Then I could tell him everything. And I had to figure out a way to keep myself from trying to save the girl on my own. I already felt as though I had made a connection with her. This girl was special. She already consumed my thoughts.

"Alice, is everything alright?" I could hear the concern in his voice and I felt a pang of guilt. I was so busy playing matchmaker and planning Edward's future, I'd forgotten how this would affect Jasper.

"I'm fine, really" I absentmindedly reached a hand up to his face, affectionately.

Jasper smiled. "Was it a vision?"

I had been afraid he would catch on. I didn't like keeping things from Jasper, but more then that, I hated lying to him. So I decided I wouldn't. Keeping things from him felt better then lying, anyway.

"Yes, it was."

"You can't tell me anything about it, can you?" he questioned in a gentle voice. The smile still hadn't faded from his face and suddenly, I felt a wave of calm wash over me, overshadowing any anxiety I had felt.

"No, Jazz. I really wish I could. But, I could be messing with his fate." As soon as I said the words, I instantly regretted them. That was my first slip up. Now Jasper knew it had something to do with one of his brothers.

His smile remained; it was a gesture of understanding and acceptance. Our eyes held for a long time, but we didn't exchange words. Many of our conversations were physical, or simply implied. It wasn't difficult for me to read him, and I knew he could read me in the most literal sense. There was softness in his delicate tawny eyes. It told me all I needed to know without ever needing to hear the words. I grinned at him, marvelling at how lucky I was to have such a wonderful person in my life.

In my vision, a girl named Bella was being hurt by a man. She looked terrified but she was trying to appear brave. I saw flashes of a sign, "The Manor." I saw glimpses of her life and knew it had been full of pain.

And then I saw Forks Hospital, where Carlisle worked. I saw the girl tucked away in the basement doing laundry. And I saw Edward. The day of their meeting was close. I knew that when it came, Edward would face the greatest challenge of his long existence, and the task of saving Bella Swan would begin.

A/N: Here is the next chapter, as promised! If you have any questions, please ask them! I know that it might seem confusing right now, but things will be cleared up in future chapters. Plot development takes a while!

Also, I know the direction of this story may seem obvious, but it's probably not! This story, although rated M, will not contain any graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex, or any gruesome descriptions of violence, etc. I may allude to such things, but I will definitely not go into detail.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I appreciate it! Reviews keep my motivated, and keep the chapters coming. I'd like to have around 10 reviews for this chapter before I post chapter three... Also, I respond to ALL signed reviews that are left, just as a way of saying thank you.

A huge thank you to my lovely, and thorough beta, Legs. Did I mention that you're wonderful?