Title: Cut the Ropes

Author: LazyWerewolf

Disclaimer: See chapter 11

A/N: For those of us who are new here, this is a Bellice Adventure & Supernatural fic, which means that romance, while prominent, will not be the main attraction here. For those of you that already know this fic, welcome back :P In this fic, Bella is not gay. So if you're looking for a fic where Bella/Alice/both are gay and single, you'll have to look somewhere else. Sorry :/ This fic starts off after New Moon, and then goes very very AU from there.

Thanks for picking this fic :P See you at teh bahtom.

Prologue

All opinions are based on comparisons.

If you were born and raised in a world of comfort, then you cannot say that you are comfortable. Likewise, if you were born and raised in torment, you cannot state that you are in torment.

However, if you lived in a life of semi-luxury, and were thrown into a life of pain, you could say that you're in pain. But that doesn't help much, does it?

A few steps forward, then a sheer drop.

My name is Isabella Marie Swan.

I am the bastard child of your worst nightmare and a taser.

Bitter, angry, torn up and bloodied.

Remember the old man that told you to let sleeping dogs lie? You should have listened.

The transformation into one of us is an extremely long and complicated process, and the reason is that we're not like those pathetic Skinwalker Quileutes. We are real, bloody werewolves, and life—well, death— isn't easy when you enter immortality without a clue of what you are, where you are, and what the hell you're doing stark naked on a sand dune in Arizona with a fucking canyon around six feet away from where you were passed out. In few words, life sucks for me and for anyone else who decided to not let the fucking werewolf lay.

It all starts with a bite: That's how it started for me. I remember it in perfect clarity. First comes the excruciating pain from the actual bite: we have jaws bigger than an alligators and ten times as strong. We like to go for the neck, because it's just so appealing. What else are you gonna go for? We can probably sink our teeth into your stomach, and then you'd probably be gutted, but personally I don't like gut. I prefer neck. Same thing with animals too: our jaws are so strong that we could probably bite through an elephant, but they would probably shit on us or something like that. The point is that it rips through your body and leaves its spit inside your bloodstream.

I remember very clearly how the head of that fucking coven described us. He talked about how the saliva is so toxic that it causes chemical changes in your brain that cause you to shapeshift, or control how your body is arranged or something like that. He said that the chemical reaction is similar to the Skinwalkers', that it causes you to rearrange your body into the first thing you see after being bitten. But unlike the Quileutes' changes, our venom is much more volatile and dangerous. The change happens much slower, and is just as painful as it looks. No, maybe a few times as painful.

The change begins at the limbs, where the major bones are grown-slowly I might add- and the joints and plates like the kneecaps and elbows are broken, and then regrown in a different shape. The muscles in the limbs are stretched and filled in. Then the venom attacks your shoulders and hips, crushing them and rearranging them. The rest of the torso is only made bigger, and the ribs are rearranged. The head comes last. Your neck muscles are reinforced, and then your jaw and nose stretch out slowly, creating a snout. The ears are stretched out like cartilage, making them very thin, but then they are covered in another layer of skin. Hair comes next: your entire body is covered in small, individual hairs that grow very rapidly. Each hair feels like a pin prick; it doesn't seem like a lot of pain, but multiply it by millions and you have yourself the equivalent of being run over by a train.

Sounds gruesome, doesn't it? It is. But don't worry, just stick to your boring, suburban life and it'll never happen to you. Even though I stuck to my boring, suburban life and it happened to me anyway. But I was a lost case since the stupid Olympic coven came around.

When you come out of the transformation, you're dazed, and you don't know where you are. Transformations like these last around two hours. You usually come out of your little were-stage naked and confused, much like I am now.

The Arizona desert is dry, cold and dark. The blood has created a lake around my head, and the wounds on my chest and legs are gaping wide, searing with pain from the sand burrowing itself into my cuts. But nothing compares to the pain of seeing a small head about six feet away from me. It has dark spiky hair and holds features that would be considered angelic, were it not for the missing body. Her hair was caked to the side of her face with something that resembled water while her eyes were wide open staring into space. I choked a sob, which resulted in more tumultuous waves of pain. The rest of her body was scattered around her, and the moonlight caused her stone skin to glow. I saw the small particles of sand dance in circles around her. When I tried to slowly lift my head, I was greeted with a deafening crack from my neck, and my head fell back fast. I stared blankly into the sky ahead of me. I didn't have enough time to answer myself before my eyes fluttered shut, and my body decided to leave me alone, in the middle of the Arizonan desert at midnight with a ripped up vampire not two yards away. The insides of my eyelids were a thousand different colors, with shapes ranging from strange fish, worms, and random shapes. What the fuck is up with that duck? Is it growing a third arm? It had arms in the first place? Not that it mattered much.

Remember that old man that told you to let the sleeping dog lie?

I didn't listen.

A/N: Tweaked the prologue a bit. Much more appealing now. Drop me a review, I like those :P thanks for reading. Check my bio for the tumblr of this fic, along with a couple of amazing authors and stories to keep you entertained if this story doesn't cut it for you. (haha get it? CUT it for you? like the title? of the story? Like the- FUCK YOU GUYS, MY MOM SAYS I'M FUNNY...) Lol, jk.

Cheers,

The Lazy Werewolf