"Dad?" I asked, eyes widening as I took in the man before me. Like everyone else in this hell-hole, he was dressed in all white. His light-brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. He was smiling as he looked at me. "How? You… you were dead. You died, in the fire. We buried you," I said, shaking my head.

"No. I wasn't home, when it happened," he said, coming to stand in front of me, placing his hand on my arm.

"But, we buried you. There were two bodies. Mom and… you. We thought it was you," I whispered out. Everything seemed to be spinning, crumbling around me. He was dead. His body was burnt to a crips in that fire.

"As you can see," he said, letting go of my arm to spread his arms wide, "I was not in that fire."

I found myself stumbling forward, struggling to keep on my feet, but managing to meet him, wrapping my arms around him. He was alive. He'd been dead… I'd thought he'd been dead for years. "Dad," I choked out, and I felt his arms encircle me in return.

"Shh," he hushed out. "I'm here. I'm here."

Here. He was here. With me. Alive. But… the thought pricked in the back of my mind, where is here? I pulled back, looking up at him. "We… we have to get out of here! We have to run!" We'd have to leave, while we had the chance.

He tilted his head to the side, smile still in place. Something about that smile, something about him… it was just… off. "Run? This," he said, motioning around us. "This is all mine."

"What… what do you mean?" I asked, staggering back from him until I collided with a body behind me.

"He means he's the boss," Ed's voice said from behind me, snickering as his hands grasped onto my arms, keeping me in place.

I shook my head, eyes still locked on my father's face. His smile, still in place, sent my stomach dropping. "But, but I've been locked up. I've been starved. Tortured. That… that was all you?" I whispered out.

"An unfortunate necessity," my father said, voice even, not a hint of remorse. Not a hint of the father I remembered from my childhood.

"Why am I here? What do you want from me?" I asked, feeling tears spill over onto my cheeks.

"You're my best creation," he said. "I made you what you are today."

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Nothing made any sense. "I don't understand," I said, my voice a whimper.

"The strength, the ability to heal, the speed. That is what I gave you."

"You did this to me?" I choked out. "You made me a… a freak?"

"A freak?" His smile twisted, taking a step towards me. "A freak?" I gave you everything. All he benefits of vampirism, without taking your life. You're faster, stronger, more durable than any human could ever dream of and you're alive. And you want to call that a freak? It's a gift." His voice was cold, sending a shot of fear spiking through me.

"I-" I choked out, wishing I could back further away, but Ed's hands on my arms held me in place. "I didn't ask for this."

He let out a tisk, turning and walking back towards his desk. "You always were ungrateful," he said as he took a seat at his desk.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

He gave Ed a nod, ignoring my questions as he went back to his computer, typing away. Ed started pulling me back.

"What? No - no, no, no! Don't put me back there! Don't put me back in that room! Please, I can't go back! I can't!" I yelled, trying to break free from Ed, to no avail

#

I was thrown in the cell again, left there for days at a time. They'd pull me out, take me to that room with the lights and metal table, and inject me with something, poke and prod me. THen I'd be hauled back to my cell, that fucking white room. I really hated white.

Every once in a while, Ed would come to my cell and drag me up he elevator to my father. My father would tell me that what he was doing was necessary. That the pain would all be worth it. I'd beg him to let me go, to stop the torment. Some days I'd beg him to just put me out of my mystery. He'd tell me I'd understand, someday. He'd wave me away, and Ed would take me back to my cell.

I didn't know how long I was there. Months seemed to go by, each day chipping away at my soul. I felt empty, broken. Physically, I was exhausted, my whole body aching. But mentally? Emotionally? I didn't know how I was supposed to hold on. I had no hope of getting out. My father, the one person in the world who was supposed to protect me, was the one who had caused me all this pain.

My thoughts of Godric and Eric couldn't bring me comfort anymore. They were gone, and I'd never see them again. I would die here, down in this cell. I'd rot away into oblivion. And I'd welcome death.

#

"We can make things more comfortable for you. As long as you stop fighting us. No more resistance. And I'll give you everything. A bed, food, a shower. Whatever you want. Just stop fighting us," my father said, seated at his desk.

When I didn't reply, my father let out a sigh. "Anna, I hate seeing you like this. Just surrender. I will make sure we get you through this as quick as possible. I'll make things comfortable for you. And when all of this is done, we'll be able to live again. Together, as a family. That's all I want."

"Okay," I whispered out. I couldn't do it anymore. Whatever shred of fight I had left in me was gone, long gone. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted it all to stop.

"You'll stop fighting? You'll do what I say?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Take her to the basement suite," my father said, addressing Ed behind me. "Whatever she requests, give it to her."

"Of course," Ed said, leading me away. "Smart choice," he said, as we walked towards the elevator. "I'm surprised, though. Didn't think you'd last as long as you did." I wanted to ask him how long it had been, but I didn't. It didn't really matter, and I wasn't sure if I truly wanted to know. "What? No sass?" He let out a sigh at my continued silence. "I almost like you better when you're trying to rip our hearts out." We went down the elevator, and he walked me to a new room, pulling he door open.

The room was, once again, all white. But this one had soft, carpeted floors. A large bed that looked like absolute heaven. A small kitchenette. A door, leading to what I could only assume was a bathroom.

"Make yourself comfortable," Ed said. "If there's anything you need, press this button," he gestured to a small doorbell-like button on the wall, next to the door. He stepped out, the door closing behind him, a lock clicking into place.