TW: Mentions of blood, electroshock therapy and abuse are present in this chapter.

Disclaimer

I don't own Twilight. Never did own Twilight. Never will own Twilight. Hop off my back if you think I'm getting any monetary benefits from posting this- Thanks.

They should have known there would be repercussions to their actions. As the dried blood still crested their lips, they gritted their teeth as the matron angrily dragged her across the hallway by the recently shorn hair, bare feet dragging and toes curling to get a grasp or a foothold or anything really.  It was just their luck too that Kingsley had waited until the very last moment, when dinner was about to be served. They'd really had hope that would have been the end of the madness of that day.  That meant that whomever was left on duty for the night was serving the remainder of the patients who were already locked away in their cells.

They refused, however, to give the sick, twisted woman the satisfaction of hearing them scream from the pain of her harsh grip. It was one thing that they'd never give up. It only angered the matron more and they seeped whatever gratification they could from it before being shoved ungracefully on the cool tiled room of a place they knew all too well.

"You evil child!" The matron exclaimed, face sporting an ugly hue of a mix of purple and deep red. She was practically foaming at the mouth, veins in her neck bulging in her anger. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?" Her uniform was rumpled, old blood splattered on her skirt and that said enough.

They didn't respond, eyes focussed on the leather chair in the center of the room, black straps and buckles hanging menacingly. That torture machine was much scarier than the  angry matron behind them. This is what they'd been dreading and they'd thought that in the middle of all of the drama, that they'd gotten away with dealing the card they dealt that phony pastor.

When they gave no response, Kingsley grabbed them by their arms, pushing and pulling as though the woman couldn't decide whether to strangle them or subject them to the torture of the electrotherapy chair.

"You'll pay for this, brat!" Kingsley screamed. "And no one is here to hear your cries, bitch!"

Tears pricked at their eyes against their will, and they wanted to scream, 'No', 'not that, anything but that!' but their lips stubbornly stayed shut as tears of denial began to stream down their face.

Kingsley began strapping them down, and they wriggled, trying desperately to free themselves.

"Stop it!" The angry woman ordered, but they weren't about to comply. Struggling with everything they had, legs flailing as their arms became immobilized. The leather was hot on their skin, and the musty smell of urine filled their nostrils, no doubt left behind by the last poor soul that had been strapped down in the exact same way they were. 

A sharp slap left them in a state of shock, giving Kingsley just enough time to strap their remaining limbs down to the horrible thing. Their cheek stung, a red bruise beginning to blossom on Alice's already pale skin. They swore to get revenge on this malicious creature as soon as they turned into a vampire. There was no way this sick bitch could live after this.

They could only watch, arms and legs straining against the tight restrictions, wide eyed as Kingsley placed the electrode on their head. Unlike last time, however, there was no gag or rubber insertion. This bitch had every intention of drawing out every pain filled scream from them, willing or not, without care that they might bite off their tongue.

She was truly wicked.

Kingsely huffed, flipping switches as though she'd done this a thousand times before. And they could do little but turn their eyes up to the moldy ceiling as the low hum of the machine turned on and filled the room. They wanted to sob, muscles tensing in preparation of the pain that was sure to come.

And sure enough, barely a second went by before a scream tore from Alice's body, muscles spasming as electricity coursed through their soul. And of course, they were launched directly into a vision.

'The oppressive atmosphere of the room seemed to thin, replaced by an eerie chill that made her skin prickle with goosebumps.

An image of a young girl with short black hair lying helpless on the cold, metal table, her limbs bound by the thick black straps and a clunky metal headband with sheepskin covering her ears. The girl's mouth was open wide in an endless scream, the whites of her eyes visible as her body shook without her will. And standing before her, a figure cloaked in shadows, his presence radiating a cold, otherworldly power.

Out of the shadows emerged a figure, cloaked in darkness and moving with an otherworldly grace. His footsteps were silent, his movements fluid and effortless as he practically glided across the tiled floor.

Kingsley's eyes widened in alarm as she sensed the presence of something unnatural in the room. Quickly turning off the machine, the hum died down to white noise. Instinctively, she reached for anything she could use as a weapon, a second electrode that wasn't connected and held it up threateningly towards the intruder.

But before she could react, a voice echoed through the room, cold and commanding.

"Release her," it hissed, its tone brooking no argument. "This is your final warning."

Kingsley hesitated, torn between her instinct to obey and the gnawing fear that gripped her heart. She could sense the power emanating from the mysterious figure before her, a power that surpassed anything she had ever encountered.

And then, with a sudden burst of movement, the figure lunged forward, his form a blur of motion as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

With a swift and decisive motion, he roughly pushed the woman aside to get to the girl. His grip was firm but gentle as he pulled her away from the torturous clutches of the pitiful figure shaking like a leaf in the corner.'

As they gasped for air, their senses reeled from the transition between the harrowing vision and the stark reality of the electrotherapy room. The smell of ozone lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of disinfectant and the musty odor of old leather. Each breath felt like a struggle, as if the very air itself had turned against them.

Their body trembled with residual shock, muscles still twitching from the electric current that had coursed through their veins moments ago. The room seemed to spin around them, the walls closing in like the jaws of some monstrous beast, ready to devour them whole.

The matron, Kingsley, stood over them like a vulture, a cruel sneer twisting her features into a grotesque mask of satisfaction. Her eyes gleamed with a perverse pleasure as she watched them struggle, relishing in their pain and fear.

But they refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing them break. Despite the overwhelming urge to scream and beg for mercy, they clench their jaw shut, refusing to let a single sound escape their lips. They would not give Kingsley the satisfaction of hearing their cries, of knowing that she had broken them.

But even as they tried to distract themselves, the memory of the vision lingered like a dark shadow at the edge of their consciousness. And then, just when they thought they could bear no more, the electricity surged through them once again, sending shockwaves of agony rippling through their body. Their vision blurred, colors swirling together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of pain and terror before the darkness looming at the edges of her periphery claimed them for once.

Later, when Kingsley stood alone in the dimly lit room, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just come face to face with something far more terrifying than any mere mortal. And deep down, she knew that she had just narrowly escaped a fate worse than death. For that man was no stranger to the devil, who also wore the same red eyes and had a face like an angel.