11pm, January 23rd, 2011
Sam's scream pierced the air, but was quickly muffled by a large hand covering her mouth. The man's body was hunched over hers, holding her while walking down a flight of stairs at the same time. It stunk of bleach and rot, of blood and feces and dirt. The stairs and walls were caked with mud and the dull light coming from below was swinging menacingly from side to side.
"Shh, shh, don't have you in the crypt yet. You can scream all you want when we getcha in there. You're lucky you know that, Sammy? First one I didn't drug. My experiment," his whispered voice panted in her ear. "Gonna be awake the whole fucking time," he growled happily, grinding against her ass.
She jerked forward, hoping the movement would loosen his hold, but instead it knocked the wind out of her as she plowed into a dirty side wall.
"I knew you were a fighter kitten, but how hard are you going to fight when you're being cut open?"
"Please don't," she whimpered.
"Offer to do anything," he prompted, pressing her face forward into the wall, forcing her face to turn sideways.
The pressure of the wall digging into her cheekbones made her whimper. There was just enough light, just enough for her to recognize him too, just enough for the dread to fill her gut and over flow. "No. Not you. It can't be you!"
He smirked, leaning forward to slide his tongue up the side of her face. "That's why I get away with it. All that money behind me, all that power."
"W-what are you gonna do to me?"
His hand slid up from her neck to grip her hair. The sharp pain shot through her head as he yanked it back only to quickly slam her face against the wall. She felt the hot sting of her lip splitting open, before he jerked her up, lifting her feet off the ground so that the tips of her toes just barely grazed the floor. Her vision blurred and the bitter taste of coppery blood filled her mouth. She squealed as she felt his finger nails slide down her skin and wiggled, desperately trying to get away when his hands slipped down her thighs, shifting the material of her wet, white skirt. It's what she'd been wearing when he'd taken her a block from her home.
She sniffled, and braced her hands against the wall, too weak from being slammed into it to actually push off. She gasped as he shoved a hand between her thighs and then with the other hand hurriedly pushed the skirt up.
"No please, don't! Please, don't do this," she cried, sobs wracking her body. She attempted to push with her hands, but nothing happened. He was plastered against her back and he trapped her legs between his thighs, digging his knees in to keep them together.
She gasped as she heard the material of her underwear tearing, the motion causing a jerk of her hips, but it was the haunting small sound of a zipper that seemed to echo in her ears. He pushed against her and she grunted as he knocked her into the wall again. "I'm just gonna give you a taste of what's to come. You did ask after all, I'm just answering."
"Hey! I paid good money for her," a deep voice called from below the stairs.
"You paid to cut, not fuck!" he shouted in her ear.
Sam trembled and inhaled sharply, feeling her vision starting to fade.
"Not interested in raping. Only scumbags have to do that, I just like blood."
"Yeah well this scumbag is running the show, if I want to do 'em first then that's my call. Just remember Bear, I call the shots. in charge."
"Yeah fine, you call the shots."
"Now, where were we, Sammy..." he whispered, adjusting her hips backwards, positioning himself as he pushed forward. He gave a deep, rough, satisfied growl as he jerked against her. "Mmm, there's my girl."
She grunted at the force of him smacking into her, slamming her into the wall. "No," she cried. "No," the last was a silent whimper before she fainted.
"Hey, Seth," Bailey called, galloping after him, trying to reach him before he got to his car.
"Bailey," he nodded, pausing in unlocking the door.
"Gwen and I are gathering people to see if they want to go to the police station, offer any help."
He nodded, his blond hair falling into his face. "Yeah, okay."
Bailey gave him a smile, thinking his hair wasn't completely blond, but more of a light brunette. "And we're going to bring coffee too if you want to stop by Starbucks and help carry stuff."
Seth nodded. "Yeah, I'm there."
Bailey bit her lip, trying to figure out how to bring up the topic she really came over here to talk about. How was she going to ask why he thought Samantha was still alive?
"I suppose just kind of the way you did."
She'd spoken out loud again, without thinking, without realizing what this could be doing to Seth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"
Seth held his hand up, his full pink lips rising in a half hearted smirk that almost, if the situation had been different, caused Bailey's knees to weaken. "Bailey, that's just how you are. I think everyone's used to it by now. Sam and I weren't exactly friends if you know what I mean. Not that I wanted this to happen, but honestly she was kind of a bitch," he informed her.
Bailey blinked at the coldness in his voice. "How could you say that?"
She'd been kidnapped, taken away from her family, her friends, probably locked away in some dark, dank room being tortured. She could be crying out right now for help, only no one could hear her because no one knew where she was. Samantha could be down the street, in someone's basement, she could be...Bailey shook her head, now she couldn't allow her thoughts to head down that path, not if she needed to keep it together if only for Damien and Grayson. Those thoughts only made her feel more ashamed though, after what she'd said to Gale and Matt, how light she had made the situation. Seeing the pain people were feeling had seemed to drive the reality home with Bailey, and now she was scared...for Sam, Gwen, for herself.
"It sucks this happened to her, it's royally fucked up, but I'm not going to lie about how we were such best friends. We hated each other, but as much as I hated her, I know she's going to fight, which could mean she's going to have less time than the other girls actually, but she is still alive. The time he keeps them is getting longer and longer, he's drawing it out. In fact, it's weird, because as killers progress they get more stupid, careless, cocky, but he's getting smarter, more calculating, and it doesn't seem like he's going to crack."
It was disturbing how much Seth seemed to know and Bailey realized that the killer was usually someone no one suspected. Extra careful to not think aloud she wondered if this crazy lunatic killer could be a high school student, if it could be Seth.
"How do you figure all that?" she spoke softly, wishing the quivering in her voice was less noticeable.
Seth's brown eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, letting her know how incredibly unattached he was to the situation. Maybe he was doing it on purpose, to make the hurt less.
Or maybe he was a psychopath.
"Who do you think my brother is?"
She frowned, resisting the urge to flee as he took a step closer.
"He's on the force. Officer Wilson? I'm Seth Wilson? I overheard him and Deputy Davis talking. He asked me about Sam. I told him she would fight, that she was smart. He said they couldn't come to any real conclusions until after the critical forty eight hour period."
"Isn't that illegal, to tell a civilian so much information about a critical case?"
He shrugged, giving a small chuckle and leaning a hip against the side of his expensive car. "He kind of has diarrhea of the mouth, especially when it comes to his charismatic younger brother."
Bailey frowned. A killer could be very charismatic.
The thought crossed her mind so quickly that it forced her to take a step back, to cradle her books slightly closer to her chest like she was warding off an attack. It wasn't right forming these conclusions, but wasn't guessing inevitable. It could be Seth. Sam could be in his trunk right now for all they knew.
Seth frowned, suddenly realizing he may have done something wrong and reached out to her as she continued to back away. "Bailey, wait. I-"
"I really have to go. Gwen's waiting," she managed, knowing full well her fear of Seth was severely misplaced, but there none the less.
He cleared his throat and reached a hand up to nervously scratch at his face as he regarded her. "Yeah, okay. Hey look, I didn't mean to freak you out. It's just being a cop's brother kind of toughens the skin you know?"
That was all it took for the fear that had been building to release, because it made perfect sense. His brother on the case, he'd heard details, and he dealt with this everyday. She let out a relieved laugh and gave him a bright, reassuring smile. "Of course, I was being ridiculous," she lowered her books from her chest. "I'll see you at Starbucks, or the police station, or whatever."
She was cold, naked, lying on a wooden table with leather straps, her arms and legs spread wide, restraining her. A man stood at her feet with a scalpel, dressed in a light blue, plastic gown tied at the waist with a matching cap on his head, a white face mask, and rubber gloves. He looked like a surgeon and for a moment she thought, no, prayed that maybe she needed surgery that she'd see an anesthesiologist shortly, that the needle in her arm would start to burn as the anesthetic was pumped into her, but it was just him and his gleaming chocolate brown eyes.
There was no needle though.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything too damaging today since we have no anesthetic. You'll have time to heal, especially since I don't want to shock your body too much. I paid good money, but not to kill you, that's the boss man's job."
He added the last bit as if to reassure, as if that small tiny detail of information would make her feel better. The fact that he was even trying calm her scared her more and she bit her lip with shame as she felt warm fluid trickling down her thighs.
"I hear bodily fluids are always involved one way or another. Lucky urine is 95% water, but be sure not do that once I apply the iodine, just incase of infection. I don't want to amputate, just explore. I'm also not much of a bone crusher. Makes my stomach turn," he added giving a tiny shiver for show.
"Please," she whispered. "Don't do this."
He scowled and made a jerking motion, reaching for something off to the side, before advancing towards her head and it was then that she saw the gleam of a red ball with black straps. The exhaustion before, that had been lulling her body, was slowly disappearing every time this man spoke, vanished as she realized his intentions. The adrenaline coursed through her as the scream she let out pierced her own ear drums.
He meant to gag her, so that her screams were muffled, so that she was struggling, but wouldn't be able to say much of anything. That, out of everything, caused her to scream louder than ever as the ball was shoved into her mouth. The leather straps that restrained her digging into her already chaffing wrists were nothing compared to the straps of that ball gag being wrapped around towards the back of her head and clamped in place.
"Right now we're learning about muscle tissue, so really I should be focusing on that, but I've always wanted to see the great saphenous vein. It's a shame we don't have any anesthetics. This will be quite painful I'm afraid," he spoke softly as he ran his finger along the inside of her thigh, spreading a yellowish brown fluid all the way down to her ankle. "Perhaps next time we can have an anesthetic," he mumbled as if it were an after thought.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Not to her. It was though and she knew it as soon as she felt the blade slicing deep into her skin.
She'd always wondered what it would be like to die young. She thought it would be romantic, to be young in her coffin, as the people she loved wept over her, but it had always been just an idea, almost an after thought when she'd been angry at her parents. After a fight, she'd always imagined how they'd regret being so mean to her if she were to die then and there.
This was nothing like she'd imagined and she couldn't help crying out for her mom as the sharp, agonizing pain continued until the blackness came again.