Page 13 of Written in the Scars

I can’t breathe, my vision depleting as I begin to see stars. His hand is tight around my throat and this is it.

This is my end.

I defeated one monster years ago, killed him and fought my way back into a normal life.

Only to be brought down by the hands of another.

Orion

Selene wasn’t much help, she was hostile, thinking I had chased Reagan out of the city or murdered her. Which she admitted to telling the police, much good they are since I haven’t heard a peep from them. I tried to console her, reassuring her I’m doing everything I can to find Reagan.

I make a quick stop at home, changing into black jeans and a black hooded jumper, grabbing my pistol out the safe and tucking it safely into the back of my jeans. I head straight for Crawl, walking the same route Reagan would have taken.

I reach the point where she was last seen by the cameras, watching everyone and everything. I move closer to the bar's entrance and wait, I just need one small snippet of information of where to go next, someone who can help lead me to her.

Two and a half hours later, the security guard kindly brought me a coffee . He's been keeping tabs the past few nights, but apart from the usual, nothing has stood out to him. I go to take a sip, my thirst interrupted.

Who wears a suit with that sort of price tag to this bar, the three-piece suit would tally to more than some of these peoples rent for the month. He walks by me to the staired entrance, offering me a nod in passing. I watch as he goes, placing my coffee on the ledge. He stops at the bottom step, looking around him before carrying on up the path.

I follow, keeping my distance. I try to bury the feeling of hope, I have to prepare myself for the worst. Yet this man may not know anything. He slips in the dark alley just past the building of Crawl and disappears to the side. Keeping myself in the shadows, I’m wrapping my fingers around the grip of my pistol.

Passing quickly under the orange lights, I creep closer to find a parked black SUV. Frank mentioned her having a close call with an SUV, my heart rate quickens as the anticipation of finding Reagan or finding out what’s happened to her grows stronger. The suited man isn’t in sight now, as I slowly make my way round the front of the car.

I hear muffled voices coming from behind a door, quickly putting myself behind a bin as the door latch clicks from being unlocked. “No, it’s a quiet one tonight. Just head out and do theusual rounds, he said”. Three men exit the door, heading to the car, the taller one giving the orders.

HE said? Who said?

Once the car has pulled away, I manage to jimmy the door open, not the best security for whatever underground business this is. I’m going to have to get Frank to do a more in-depth investigation next time if there is a next time.

There's only one way to go, down. I make my way down the staircase, careful to not alert anyone of my intrusion. It's quiet, only the faint sound of Crawl from above. Meeting the bottom floor, there’s a long walkway, four doors and a left turn at the end. I carefully peek through each door as I snake past to the end of the corridor.

The place looks abandoned, apart from the last room, furnished with sofas, a large, wooden table with six chairs and a TV, it's on but there’s no sound coming from it.

I turn the corner, one door and T junction await me.

Reagan

Air fills my lungs as I regain consciousness, the fabric has been removed from my mouth and the blindfold taken off my eyes.

Looking around the room as I regain my vision, Nathan isn’t here. A sigh of relief fills the air and then it all comes rushingback, the pain. The tortuous fire that burned through my entire body. I blink my eyes, trying to hold back the tears, fear of looking at the marks he has left upon me. Taking a deep breath, I raise my head to look down at myself.

My eyes widen at what I find, my head falling back onto the mattress, and I let it all out, the screams, the tears, the fear, the anger, and frustration. My body is shaking as much as it can. I exhale it all.

The metal bed frame shaking with me, and there it is.

Hope.

They both made the same mistake.

In my weakened state he didn’t tie my hands to the frame very well. I take a deep breath and begin to think of how I get out of this, I don’t know where I am, or where he is. It's not a matter of just getting free from this room but getting free from where I’m being held.

Is there anyone else here? I heard a few voices when I first woke days or weeks ago, are they still here? I begin to observe everything around me and what I can use to my advantage. Apart from the wooden chair and the trolley there isn’t much.

The trolley, I try to stretch my neck to see if he left his torture devises behind. But its too high up and I don’t want to loosen my hands too soon. If he walks in and I’m unprepared I am definitely dead.

Looking back down at my body my eyes meet again with the sparkle of four silver balls, two aside each of my nipples. The fucker pierced me, PIERCED ME in a dark dingy room, who fucking knows what’s infections I could get down here.

I begin to laugh, I bloody laugh, not exactly the right situation to be laughing but here I am laughing.

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