Made a Lab Rat
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Edward Cullen x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1642
Warnings: Locked up, tested, Volturi being assholes
Y/N: Your Name
Prompt(s):
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They stopped calling me by my name after the first year. After that, I was just Subject V. I don’t remember what my human life was like anymore, not clearly. I remember the feeling of sunlight on my face, the ache of hunger, the way fear used to spike my heart instead of settling like ice in my veins. I remember screaming when my heart stopped beating and waking up to marble skin and fire that never really went away. The Volturi said it was an honor. They said I was chosen. What they meant was that I was useful.
The chamber I wake up in is always the same: stone walls etched with ancient carvings, a single drain in the floor, shackles built into the slab I’m strapped to. The air smells faintly metallic, sharp with chemicals and old blood. They don’t bother gagging me anymore. I stopped screaming years ago.
Aro arrives first, as always.
He moves like a priest entering a cathedral, robes whispering over stone, eyes bright with curiosity rather than mercy. Caius follows, cold and sharp as broken glass. Marcus lingers near the shadows, uninterested but present, always present.
“Good evening, my dear.” Aro says warmly. “How are we feeling today?”
I don’t answer.
I learned silence is safer.
Felix tightens the restraints on my wrists anyway. Chelsea watches from the corner, her presence like pressure behind my eyes- nudging emotions, soothing resistance. I hate her more than the others.
“Today,” Aro continues. “We test a new compound.”
A vial is brought forward, the liquid inside shimmering faintly blue, then red, then something I don’t have a word for. My stomach twists, not that it matters. Vampires don’t vomit. We just endure.
“You see,” Aro says conversationally. “Natural gifts are… inefficient. Random. We require precision.”
The needle slides into my vein. Agony explodes through me. It’s not like venom. Venom burns, but this- this rewrites. My vision fractures. I feel pressure behind my eyes, my skull, my spine. It feels like something clawing its way through my mind, testing the walls, searching for purchase. I arch against the restraints, a sound tearing from my throat before I can stop it.
“Fascinating...” Aro murmures. “Her pain threshold continues to increase.”
Caius scoffs. “And yet she still survives.”
That’s my curse.
I always survive.
Sometimes the injections make my senses sharper, too sharp. I hear heartbeats in the walls, feel vibrations from miles away. Sometimes they make my thoughts bleed into the room, emotions leaking from me like smoke. Once, briefly, I could bend shadows. They always take it away.
They catalog everything.
Failures. Successes. Side effects.
Me.
When the pain fades, I lie there shaking, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks to keep myself grounded. They unstrap me eventually. They always do. I’m too valuable to break permanently. Once they leave, I curl into the corner I’ve claimed at mine. Stone doesn’t get cold to vampires, but the emptiness does. I press my forehead to my knees and let myself remember the one thing that keeps me sane.
Forks.
I heard the name by accident. Aro was speaking once, too absorbed in his monologue to realize I was listening. He talked about vegetarian vampires. A coven in Washington. A family that lived openly, dangerously, among humans.
“The Cullens.” He said, with a mix of disdain and intrigue. “A curiosity.”
The word burned into me.
Family.
Not soldiers. Not weapons. Not experiments.
I didn’t plan the escape. That’s the truth. The opportunity came when the injections finally gave me something they didn’t expect. It started subtly. A flicker in the air when Felix passed my cell. A distortion, like heat rising from stone. I focused on it, instinctively, the way prey focuses on an opening.
And the lock failed.
Not shattered. Not broken. Just… stopped existing. My heart would have pounded if it still could. I waited. Counted breaths I didn’t need. When the guards' rotation shifted, when Chealsea’s influence thinned, I slipped out like a ghost. The halls of Volterra are a maze of power and fear. I moved fast but carefully, senses stretched thin. Alarms screamed second too late. Felix roared my name
“Subject V!”
And that was enough to fuel me. I didn’t fight. I ran. I burst into the night air like I was breaking the surface of water. The city lights blurred beneath me as I fled, faster than I ever had, my body humming with unstable energy. They chased me. Of course they did. But they underestimated desperation.
I didn’t stop until the air changed. Until pine replaced stone, until rain soaked into my clothes, until the scent of wet earth grounded me. Forks. I stood at the edge of the forest, shaking, half-feral, half-terrified. I didn’t know if the Cullens would help me. I didn’t know if they’d kill me on sight. But for the first time in decades, the choice was mine.
*Edward’s POV*
The silence hits me first. Not the peaceful kind, but a hollow absence where something should be. I’m sitting in the living room, the low murmur of Esm’s voice drifting from the kitchen as she talks with Carlisle. Emmett and Jasper are arguing quietly over something inconsequential, Rosalie pretending not to listen while absolutely listening. Normal.
Then my gift stutters.
It’s subtle, like missing a step on a staircase you’ve walked a thousand times. I reach outward with my mind, automatically cataloging thoughts the way I always do- Emmett’s impatience. Jasper’s calm vigilance. Rosalie’s guarded irritation. Alice’s-
Nothing.
I snap my head up. Alice is frozen mid-step near the stairs, eyes unfocused, lips parted. Her body is tense, like a wire pulled too tight.
“Alice.” I say.
She inhales sharply, like she’s been underwater too long. Jasper is instantly at her side, steadying her.
“She’s coming.” Alice breaths. “She’s already close.”
The room stills.
Carlisle turns first, calm but alert. “Who is she?”
Alice’s gaze locks on mine, something uncertain flickering across her face.
“A vampire.” She says. “A female vampire. But Edward- she’s… wrong. I can’t see her clearly. She keeps slipping.”
My chest tightens.
“I can’t hear her.” I say quietly.
That gets everyone’s attention. Rosalie straightens. Emmett’s expression hardens. Jasper’s posture shifts, his focus sharpening.
“No thoughts at all?” Carlisle asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s like she doesn’t exist in the space my gift occupies.”
Alice swallows. “She’s terrified. Exhausted. And she’s been running.”
“From what?” Emmett asks.
Alice’s voice drops. “From the Volturi. They experimented on her.”
The word poisons the air.
Caius’s cruelty. Aro’s fascination. Marcus’s apathy. The laws twisted into tools of control.
Carlisle doesn’t hesitate.
“If the Volturi held her, then when she arrives, we welcome her.” He says firmly.
Rosalie frowns. “Carlisle-”
“They do not experiment without reason.” Carlisle interrupts gently.
“And no one deserves that.”
Alice nods quickly. “They tested on her. Tried to change her. Force gifts.”
My hands curl into fists.
“She’s coming here because she heard Aro talk about us.” Alice continues. “She thinks we might protect her.”
Protect her.
The words settle into me like a promise.
“She’ll reach the clearing in a few minutes.” Alice finishes.
I’m already moving.
The forest hums quietly as I wait at the edge of the clearing. Every sense is stretched thin, searching for something I should be able to perceive easily.
And then I smell her.
Her scent is layered and distorted- not the clean stone-and-venom scent of most vampires. There’s something else threaded through it. Chemicals. Old blood. Something altered at a molecular level. She steps into the clearing cautiously. She looks smaller than I expected, shoulders drawn inward, eyes sharp and wary as they flick across the space, already mapping exits. She’s dressed simply, travel-worn, posture that screams survival rather than aggression.
She looks at me. And something in me locks into place. It's not desire. Not hunger. It’s recognition. Like every fractured piece of myself suddenly understands why it existed in the first place.
My mate.
The certainty is absolute. She stiffens when she realizes I’m staring.
“You’re Edward Cullen.” She says slowly, voice rough by steady.
I nod, afraid of what might happen if I speak. Carlisle steps forward, hands open, calm radiating from him.
“I’m Carlisle. You’re safe here.”
Her gaze snaps to him. Suspicion wars with hope.
“You won’t send me back?” She asks.
Carlisle’s voice is gentle but unyielding. “Never.”
Her composure cracks- not dramatically, just a quiet collapse inward. She sways slightly before steadying herself. I’m at her side instantly, instinct overriding reason. She flinches, then stops. Her eyes meet mine again.
“Why can’t I hear you?” I whisper. She looks at me, confused.
Alice appears beside us, eyes bright with emotion.
“I saw you coming, but not you. You don’t behave like the future wants you to.”
Her lips twitch faintly. “That tracks.”
Inside the house, Carlisle insists she sit. He watches her like a physician assessing a trauma patient- not with curiosity, but concern.
“My name is Y/N.” She says quietly. “They stopped using it. But it’s still mine.”
Carlisle nods. “How long were you with the Volturi?”
She stares at the floor. “Decades. Maybe longer? They didn’t let me measure time.”
Silence.
“They injected me, tested me. Tried to force gifts. Control them. Remove the.” She continues flatly.
“My jaw tightens.
“They called me progress.” She finishes. “A prototype.”
Carlisle kneels in front of her. “May I examine you?”
She hesitates, then nods. His hands are reverent, careful, tracing scars that shouldn’t exist on vampire skin. Precise marks, methodical, cruel.
“This is unprecedented.” Carlisle murmurs. “Your venom has been altered.”
I feel it then, the truth settling deep in my bones. The Volturi didn’t just create something powerful. They created something they couldn’t control. And now she’s here, with us… with me.
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