Staring at a blank page is cruelly hard.

Staring at a blank person is insanely harder.

What do you do when you are captured, meant to be fully raped and impregnated by…creatures? Something that wasn't human.

Something that was never meant to be known of, something of mere myths.

Something that was intended to dispose of a human's life source.

Something that was not humane.

Cruel Creatures: Visual number 1

Reapersama101

Chapter One: Visual Intentions

My feet slapped against the hard, cold pavement, never creating a sound until the rainwater resounded against each of the other fellow drops in the puddle. It was hardly heard over the falling, cascading rain.

"You act like such a child, Avery." My dad commented from his post at the front door. I turned towards him and frowned. I eventually fixed my posture to one of straight…was that pride or arrogance? I kept my back straight, even a bit tilted backwards while placing my hands neatly on my hips. "As far as you're concerned I am a kid." I retorted as I immaturely stuck my tongue out, a smile curling at the corners of my lips. "Cat's curl," Dad said, directing his finger at my lips. That was what he called my smile; 'Cat's curl' because it never ended up like a smile but rather a devilish smirk. No matter how hard I tried, it always ended up a smirk.

"You're fifteen years old, Avery, not five." Dad reminded me. I frowned at my father; he was tempting me to retort or face the music. "Not until next month; remember, daddy-o?" I chuckled. It came out sounding a bit harsh, even a tad bitter. My dad always tempted me to face the fact that I'm young, only a teenager and barely even that. You never seem to truly be a teenager until you're sixteen and after that, it doesn't seem like it anymore. I've never thought of the Higher Ups as teenagers. They were adults after seventeen; never teenagers. Dad chuckled along, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and turning to settle on the porch swing.

I turned back to the puddles and found myself mesmerized with the rhythmic ripples that seeped through the water, same as they had seconds ago. They always made me want to make my own ripples, leave my own mark in the sidewalk. However I settled the calm way and just watched the ripples strain the puddle. Time fell around me, going so fast and yet so devastatingly slow. I liked things like this. I liked it when time was neutral and elusive, so close and yet so far. I sighed as I craved the crevices of the sidewalk. If only I was miniature and could explore the dirt, see what grains fell beneath, what minerals I could detect. I wanted to talk with the insects, to laugh at jokes with the ants, to sleep on a leaf.

Everything I wanted was elusive, never coming to come. It was never easy on me or anyone that things I wanted were so much that I could never have, that was impossible. I wanted to live with insects, I wanted to make rain, I wanted to explore the center of the Earth, I wanted to reach Mars, I wanted to solve mysteries, and I wanted to actually live! I was so unsatisfied with life as it was. I was so completely unsatisfied and yet it made me so much more satisfied. One day I would tell my children that I had all these insane ideas, that they were unhealthy and yet life-saving at the same time. I would tell my child (either Phoebe or Lucas for the first born) that I was contradiction in human form. I wanted what I couldn't have, I wanted what I had. I wanted to be neutral, to never want and yet still feel the craving of natural born day.

Life was fair to me. That was the one thing I could decide on. Life was fair no matter how it came, no matter how it acted, how the stream ran. Life would always be fair because that is how life works.

"Come inside, Ava; you're gonna catch a cold." Dad insisted as he stood from the porch swing. I turned to my dad, thinking a moment. Should I go inside for my health or enjoy the ripples of the autumn rain? I made a reasonable choice. "Alright, dad," I called as I turned away from the puddle. But before I took my step away, I bent down on one knee and looked into the puddle.

Blue-green eyes and a pale, unhealthy face glared back at me along with untamable auburn hair, mixed into a pitiful knot at the back of my head. I smiled down at the reflection, thinking only one thought as I took a final swipe at the murky rainwater before I turned to head inside.

Life has no choice but to be fair.

Disaster crept in life's wake as I exited the school's gym doors. It felt so long since I'd been home, so long since I'd slept in my bed though it was only this morning. I was tired of the day, wishing for the night. I didn't live very far from the high school; only about two blocks and a short walk if I took my shortcut through the student parking lot. No one often came through the student parking lot unless they lived locally or was walking to school from the bus stop. If someone was taking a walk, like I constantly do, then the track was public and the gates were open 24/7 unless they were planning for a track meet or practicing a sport.

The rain was falling again, a two-day crisis for jogging mothers who often took their children to the park just to have some time on that bench away from their child. I never happened to go to the park; I found my front yard amusing enough. I understood just what was happening the second that I spotted the black van, still alive across the road. The windows were blacked out and there was an odd-shaped dent in the side of the van. I wondered what had caused the dent however I didn't care much. If I only ignored them then I could quite possibly get through scotch-free. However would that be any fun?

I paused a moment, considering the possible scenarios that could occur if I were to explore the van. Should I go home for my safety or explore the van for another's? I had no choice in the matter anymore though. When I looked back at the door (or rather when I focused my eyes again) the sliding van door (the one with the dent) was wide open. I could imagine that a door that betrayed would make enormous noises; how did that happen without my knowledge? Was I merely that out of it?

Abruptly I felt a cold touch on my bare hands though this was nothing much; it was raining and someone could possibly be concerned that I had paused. Someone's hands could easily be cold from the rain's temperature. I knew that mine were practically numb and yet I had no desire to put on gloves of throw them in my pockets. No; I liked my hands. My fingers were long and my palms were so flat. I found my hands the most interesting part of my body. I hadn't quite found their talent as of yet though; every sound of music that I created made me want to rip my ears off, every drawing that I painted made me want to rip the paper off and every single green that I touched died within half a day.

I turned to tell the person that I was merely thinking, not a concerning behavior. I paused, however, when I noted that the creature before me was very not a person. Just as the ripples of the puddles had mesmerized me the day before, this creature's rouge eyes hypnotized me. The irises were strong, vibrant rouge (this color always made me think of bricks) just as the pupils were a faded callous black, seemingly boiling and bleeding into the irises. I wondered briefly if it was seeing that hurt his eyes or if it was the sights that he saw that hurt them. Did it hurt at all? Eventually I had to pry my eyes away from his eyes to get a full view of him. If I was going to gaze I might as well gaze at all of him.

The creature was fully clothed in a set of torn and scarred jeans, tight against his legs, fitted with a black, worn-thin t-shirt with holes peering through the hem. He wore an oversized winter jacket, scarred with dirt and other substances. His hair was hanging low over his sheer white face. The basic color in all of him was his eyes. The jet black of his hair only elongated the insane melodramatic vibe he gave off. He was beautiful in every single way despite his clothing. He was over-perfection yet his entire being was callous and bitter, nothing but sheer sadness and disappointment. Why was he so sad? And when he spoke, his symphonic voice gave off the same erratic mood.

"What is your name, child?" The creature asked me. To match the sorrowful tone in his voice his perfect lips curled up in a smile that I envied. He raised his hand to my face, tracing a stray lock of hair from my face while caressing it all the while. He must have taken my expression as shock rather than indecision seeing as he only smiled more. I finally managed to answer, deciding to fall into his trap rather than letting another carelessly fall into the dangers of that van, of this man. "Avery," I answered. My voice shook despite my lack of fear. It was more of an instinctual vibration rather than a feeling, an emotion. I didn't fear him but rather was curious. This man trembled my mysteries, swiftly dancing to the top of the list of inquiries. I wanted to understand this creature, this man.

The creature finally stopped smiling only to grin, wide and maliciously. The grin was somewhat similar to the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. I wondered ever so briefly if I had fallen into Wonderland. Had I fallen down a hole? Had I followed a white rabbit? Or had I followed a gray rabbit? The creature grinned the grin expertly as though it marred his face effortlessly which I suspected it did very often. Perhaps it was his nature. Perhaps his nature was crossed, a random X rather than a straight line.

"Avery," The creature breathed. His breath fanned my face, smelling faintly angelic then true colors proving the scent of cadavers and corpses, nothing but the dead. I honestly believed the scent to smell like rust, like you would smell in a fading factory that had rotting pipes. I knew I should be afraid. I knew that my fight-or-flight response should have kicked in. I should have known better. However I didn't know better. My inquiries were far greater than my safety. The quotation of 'curiosity killed the cat' could quite possibly have been created for this literal use alone. Perhaps that writer was psychic or from the future. Perhaps the writer had seen this event. Perhaps he or she had seen me die and known why.

"Such a beautiful name; you should be proud." The creature complimented. I attempted to smile though I knew it was my regular smirk. The creature's false breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew darker, still boiling evanescently. He held it so long that I required proof that this creature was alive. Without permission I leaned forward and pressed my right ear to the left side of his chest. I waited for the beat of his heart yet silence was the only reward that greeted me. "You're not alive," I breathed as I pulled my ear back reluctantly. His chest had been cold and now I knew why; he was a walking cadaver. The creature's grin was gone now, replaced by a half expression of impressed and curious. He was dangerously curious now.

"You are a smart one. Dangerously smart," The creature accomplished. For a moment he thought, indecision scribbled poorly on his face. It was only an act of innocence, none that he held. And that was the last second that I saw before the everlasting darkness welcomed me into its pits of indecision. It was the indecision of Heaven or Hell.

===PART B===

My wrists bruised, marring the places in which they were bound. My hearing was fading in gradually, only the tiniest of noises falling to the drums first before the basic voices arrived. I was in a still place which meant that the option of the van was completely out. My legs were bent in a sitting position yet they were cold and spread out. I frowned as I blinked my hazy eyes open. "Thank you for keeping her asleep for the process. I suspected it would have been very painful and she is much too innocent to go through that." A familiar voice echoed.

We were in a large place with stained cement floors. A liquid dripped down the inner of my thighs as sensations were renewed to me. I could feel my body now, a dull pain settling into the bottom half of my body. My frown disappeared into a grim line as I unfocused my eyes. I did not want to see how exposed I was as I felt the cold air breeze against me. "The signs should show in a week or so; then we'll know." An unfamiliar voice complied to the creature that I had met. Which one had been the one to violate me?

I was only barely conscious of the fury that boiled inside me. I had dulled it out subconsciously and I had no clue when to pull that gate back, to feel again. Should I start now (for my health) or should I keep that gate that held my emotions down (for my sanity)? Indecision was familiar to me, something comforting. To me if it was physical I imagined it would be warm (though that's not always comforting) and soft (which can smother you). Indecision for me was a worn-down pillow, the kind that's your favorite and you sleep on it every night, only washing it once a month to make sure that nothing's permanently damaged on it; the kind of pillow that you buy at the dollar store but are meant for long-time use.

"She's beginning to feel again, Avalon." The second voice, the unfamiliar one, announced. I kept my mouth a grim line as I heard the audible breath of a smirk. "But she's not feeling much." The voice said arrogantly. I wondered if the creature would always survive, if this would happen to many others like it had happened to me. Had any more girls gone through this already? Had they survived this? Were they back with their families? Were they safe? Or was this their blood that stained the cement?

I had figured out that it was blood that stained the floors seeing by the color and patterns that obscured every corner of my blurred vision besides my pale legs and the barely visible seat of the chair that I sat in. "Avery and Avalon; has a nice ring to it." The arrogance of the second voice struck me with obstructed, undisguised fury. Just by holding back the shrieks of anger I felt sweat brush down my face.

The control of emotions could be just as hard as the control of physical bodies. It was a very stressing process. "Quiet, Noah. The girl has been through an ordeal and will go through much more if our plans are correct. There is no need to tease the girl as well." The one I suspected to be Avalon said. I decided to focus in on one of the more unusual blood patterns that graced the cement. It was lashed across, a quick movement. The death was merciful; quick and painless. However, by the sounds of it, my captors didn't sound like they were planning to kill me. At least not yet, they will. I shut my eyes against the harsh reality.

Perhaps my mind had fully blown and this was a nightmare. I knew that was the first sign that this was not a nightmare. When in a nightmare, one doesn't believe they are in a nightmare. Instead they believe that this is reality. But by coming to this conclusion of it being reality, does that mean that this truly is a nightmare? The matter of the subconscious was a very confusing matter.

"I heard the father call her 'Ava'. Perhaps that shall be my name for her as well." Avalon informed his friend. It frustrated me irrationally that his voice was so calm, so hypnotic. But then I thought of my motto, of what philosophy I had decided to build my life on. Life is always fair. Was that really true?

Days passed by, a constant notion that I was still a captor. I still hadn't spoken to Avalon or Noah and I had no intention to do this at all. What they planned to do should come any day now. I wondered ever so gradually what their plan exactly was. They didn't want to kill me; they'd already raped me; what other crime was there to commit? I considered the unthinkable, long and hard, and yet none of these options fit the conversations between Avalon and Noah, none of them fit the personalities of the two.

Though Noah was arrogant and constantly amused by my emotions (I've already come to the truly plausible consideration of him being an empath), he was not one for torture. Avalon was constantly bitter by this lifestyle, one he'd not chosen for himself but was rather forced into. He wouldn't want to add masochism to the list of issues he held. I had also come to the highly plausible conclusion (one that I am highly devoted to and believe with all of my ability) that these two were vampires. I had watched them feed off of humans, had watched them lure them in, had watched them disappear in a flash and also be alerted to thing I could not hear or see.

I'd gotten hungrier and Avalon was more than happy to offer me food. He even troubled himself with standing human food to bring me take-out and feed it to me. He was very caring when it came to his prisoners. It was only on the tenth day, when Avalon brought me my breakfast, that I understood what their plan had been and that it had succeeded. I threw up at the very far-off scent of the ham and cheese omelet that Avalon had brought me. By then I was fully clothed in a long black skirt that he had supplied me with along with a new shirt.

Avalon never hurt me; he cared for me. Noah was different though. Whenever he spoke and I stayed silent, it would earn me a hard kick to the face. Avalon constantly shouted at Noah for hurting me. When Avalon saw that I had gotten sick, he offered that same first smile that he had given to me when he first approached me; a sad, weeping smile. He was glad that I had thrown up, which meant that his plan had succeeded. This meant that he had meant to have gotten me pregnant. I could understand the curiosity between the lines of disgust and fury that roiled inside of me. With his kind, to produce a child with a human would procure great results.

I understood now. I understood completely. "You will need to start drinking blood to keep your health. The child will need the blood or he will drink yours." Avalon told me. I merely frowned at the ground, remaining silent. I wondered dumbly if he missed my voice. When I stayed silent my dad always told me that he missed my voice, that it was special and beautiful. Was that just a father's words? "You must eat first." Avalon said to me. I frowned at him as I turned my eyes down to my stomach. The way that my stomach bulged considered this was not your average pregnancy. Avalon pressed a finger below my chin, tilting my face upwards. I unfocused my eyes again, hoping that it would shut off my emotions. I didn't want to feel anything at this moment.

Avalon was kind and sweet. But he had raped me and kidnapped me. He would have done the same to a less knowledgeable girl if he had had the chance. I was just another victim. Was life really fair?

A/N: I disclaim all of this. This will be marked down as C.C. series and it will all have the same characters in the next story. This is the Cruel Creatures series of my own and it's based off of Nahuel's story in Breaking Dawn. When he came through to the clearing, he said that his father had created more like him for the fun of it; just to create another species. The baby will be either in the next chapter or the third chapter; I don't want to spend too much time on the pregnancy but trust me. Avalon will never see that baby.