Blood coated every inch of the house. The horrid stench of rust assaulted her nose mercilessly, forcing her to practically drink in the smell. Everything was red, from the carpet to the walls to the lovely Victorian couch recently purchased in respect for her favorite type of furniture.

Bella knew this house like the back of her hand. Large, but not all together extravagant, this house undoubtedly belonged to the Cullens. She had been here enough that it was like her own home, and in a way, she supposed it was. After all, hadn't Carlisle and the others told her more than once she was a part of their family. Once she and Edward married and she was changed, she really would be family.

Blood.

The stench seized her from the happy thoughts as the smell came at her full force. She could practically see the wisps, like fingers, curling under her nose. Reminding her eerily of a cartoon when the freshly baked pie coaxed the animal characters into trying ridiculous stunts just to snag a piece. Only, this smell wasn't mouth-watering. Instead, it turned her stomach and made her want nothing more than to empty the contents of her stomach on the red-dyed carpet.

Somehow Bella managed to keep her breakfast down. Perhaps it was the knowledge that puking would only make the smell worse, assuming that was possible, but she highly doubted that was the case. Whatever it was keeping her from throwing up, however, Bella was very thankful for it. She was having a hard enough time practically tasting the blood from the smell alone, she didn't need the taste of supposedly digested food as well.

Her chocolate orbs turned away from the disgusting sight of blood. She had to find something to distract her, more importantly she had to find the Cullens. This surely couldn't be their blood, could it? No! Bella refused to believe anyone, even the Protectors, could get such a hand over her vampire family.

“You killed her, it's your fault!”

The voice startled Bella, and she turned quickly, back to the blood soaked walls. Only, she was no longer in the crimson house, but rather standing on the street of Dark Forks, as she'd taken to calling the horrid place Seer showed her what felt like centuries ago. There stood Edward, his silver Volva crashed against the side of a house, just as she remembered. However, it wasn't Quil that stood before him, shaking in his desire to change and yelling accusations about Jacob being murdered. This time, Jacob stood across from him, fists clenched in a gesture that was all too familiar to Bella.