[Chapter 18: Thrill]

I sit up, gasping and hugging my body. Sobs come quickly, attacking my body and making me hiccup. My skin is cold and clammy, goosebumps raised everywhere. That was some nightmare.

    Jaeger sits up almost as quickly as I had, gently grabbing my arms before checking me over. "Shh, what's wrong?" His tone is worried.

    All I can do is sit there and shake and sob. Shake and sob and hiccup. He whips the covers off my legs and gently pulls me into him. His muscles are tense, as if he's trying not to break my weak body.

    "Shh, Rue, you're okay. It's okay, I'm here." He brushes my hair behind my ear over and over again, and it soothes me.

    He smells like cinnamon and cologne, my face pressed to his bare chest. His skin is burning hot, but it feels good against my cold arms and face. I, too, start burning up after I realize our proximity. I squirm a little only to end up closer to his face. He turns into me, his chin touching my forehead.

    I cough, "What time is it?"

    "Somewhere around three in the morning." There's no clock, that I can see, for him to check.

    Even though the room is dark but comfortably warm, I can tell he's trying to look at me. I can feel his hot breath on my face, and it smells like the mouthwash he used hours ago.

    I wonder what it would be like to date someone like Jaeger. Or maybe even him himself. I don't think I could do it. He's too mysterious. I hardly know anything about him, and I feel like he's hiding something. In fact, I'd place a bet that he's hiding something.

    But I suppose that's the thrill, isn't it? The thrill of not knowing what you're getting into. It's an adrenaline high, really. Humans fear the unknown, but it's also something that thrills them. Curiosity. Thrill.

    I'm the kind of person who would rather regret doing something, than wishing I'd tried it. The whole point in living is, well, to live. Living means doing something unpredictable, but learning from the outcome. I'd rather regret kissing Jaeger than wishing I'd done it.

    But I won't kiss him. Not yet. Not until I'm back to normal and things calm down, if they ever do. And hell, maybe he'll even kiss me before I get the chance to kiss him first. Shit, why am I even worrying about it?

    I'll just act like I'm not interested in him. We'll see where it goes from there. I'm such a girl. I feel like I'm in middle school again, trying to play hard to get.

    My stomach growls, "Jaeger... I have a weird question."

    After a couple moments, he shifts and exhales, "Shoot."

    "Can we make s'mores?"My voice is small, hoping I don't get rejected such a small request.

    Jaeger chuckles, his warm chest shaking. "Sure, Rue. Why not?"

     

    I take a large bite out of my s'more and stare at the stars through the oak tree's branches and leaves. They shine brightly--something I could never see while living in town--above Jaeger's property a couple miles outside of town. Just far enough so that kids aren't running around his yard, but close enough that we could ride bikes to the store if we wanted to.

    For some reason, I can't help but feel that Olivia is looking up and seeing the same thing I see. Or maybe it's Tate. Or maybe both. That's the thing about stars; no matter where you are, you still feel like you see the same thing everyone everywhere else sees. That's something that connects people: the feeling of seeing the same thing.

    The fire crackles in the expensive fire pit, spitting in different directions. Jaeger turns a marshmallow on a skewer, burning it. I'm not one for burnt 'mallows.

    "Jaeger?" I finish my s'more and pull the blanket Jaeger grabbed me closer to my body. I'm laying on a three-person swing by myself, slowly rocking back and forth.

    "Hm?" He's preoccupied with the s'more he is trying to put together.

    "Where do you think Olivia and Tate are?" I ask calmly, watching ashes float up into the air, but my voice cracks at the end up my sentence.

     He looks at me, coughs roughly and takes a drink of his hot chocolate. I can feel him looking at me over the fire, probably calculating my expression. He inhales roughly before answering, "I'm not sure, Rue. It's hard to say."

    "You don't think they're going through the same thing I went through, do you?" I whisper, my heart leaping into my throat at the thought of Olivia going though what I did.

    I make eye contact with him over the fire. His eyes are hard but thoughtful. 

    "I hope not, Rue."

    "Me too, Jaeger. Me too."

      An angel looks down on the city, standing on the edge of the new hotel. His hair is dark and wet with either blood or sweat, sticking to his forehead. A gash across an eyebrow caused the dry blood that trails down his face.

     His jaw is set hard as he watches the fire rain down upon the buildings and into the streets. The air smells like burning flesh and rancid meat. As blood-curdling screams overlap each other, his closed fists clinch aggressively. Monstrous bellows and roars come from the streets below. 

     The dark blond wings on his back sit stiffly upon his shoulders, tense. They shimmer as precious sunlight hits them for a moment. A hot, stomach-sickening breeze blows through his feathers.

     A low growl settles in his tone, dirty chest. Cuts and scratches litter his bare torso, dirt and blood smeared alone in some places, and together in others. His abdominal muscles constrict as he moves closer to the edge of the building. 

     Strange tattoos cover his neck and shoulders, even the bare skin behind his ears, black and thick. Ripped blue jeans barely hang onto his hips, nearly torn to shreds and covered in smut. His bare feet are dirty and cut up.

     Before the fire-rain reaches him, he holds his arms open wide, head up towards the black burning clouds above. His wings are spread out wide like his arms, long and strong. And he leaps off the building.

     My eyes shoot open and my heart races. I turn over and stare at the ceiling: It was all so vivid; the sounds, sights, and smells. It was like I had actually been there. Sweat is beaded on my forehead, my clothes stuck to me. My stomach had dropped when he leaped, following after him

    Find Jaeger.

    I untangle myself from the sheets and stumble out of the room and into the hallway, body sore. Bright light from giant French windows make me squint. The carpet is soft under my bare feet, and I pause for a moment to wriggle my toes in it. I swing around and look into the bedroom, Jaeger must have carried me to bed last night. Did he sleep with me too?
    My stomach clenches nervously at the thought.

    I peer over the banister and see him sitting in the living room reading a book intently. His jaw is set, like he isn't very happy about something. The page he's done with makes a dull scraping noise as he turns to the next, his eyes devouring every word on the page. I back away before I get caught staring at him and make my way to the bathroom.

    After a quick shower and a good brushing of my teeth, I try to towel dry my hair as much as possible before picking through it and using a hair dryer on it. I put my bra back on and Jaeger's shirt before snooping around the bathroom. A closet sits adjacent on the left side of the door, its sliding door slightly open.

    Without another thought, I pad quietly on the tiles to the closet and slide the door. A light switch on the right wall is flicked, and a huge walk-in closet stands before me. Towels, shampoos and conditioners, bath soaps, and clothes by the dozens. Who the monkey keeps clothes in their bathroom closet?

    I walk past shelf after shelf of soaps and towels before stopping in front of the clothes. I rifle through white undershirts and boxers before finding a pair of ladies underwear. I put them on along with a pair of white scrub-looking pants. Well, they're mine now.

    "Rue?"

    I poke my head of the door only to smack my nose into Jaeger's chest. It's bare, again, and hot, like he'd been out in the sun for a couple minutes. Just like always, his skin smells amazing, literally making me slightly drool.

    I rub my throbbing nose, "Sorry."

   "Come downstairs," he commands and opens the door all the way so I can get out, and proceeds to open the bathroom door for me, too. He hasn't been himself lately, I feel like. He's being too formal and business-like.

    When we'd first met he was always flirting with me and being a smartass. Now I feel like a burden.

    I suddenly feel really tired, even though I woke up about an hour ago. My joints creak and ache, I ironically feel like an eighty-year-old woman. I wonder how I'd sorta felt energized earlier and now suddenly feel fatigued. Could Marcus be doing this? Messing with me again?

    The first step I take down the stairs results in my knee giving out. My arm shoots out and grabs the hand railing just before Jaeger's arms wrap around my waist and haul me up, ripping my grip away from said railing. My fingers tingle from the friction and slightly throb.

    "And this is why we are going downstairs," Jaeger sighs and picks me up wedding style. 

    I feel like roadkill getting picked up and thrown off the highway; a nuisance. An inconvenience. I don't say anything to Jaeger. I don't want to piss him off. I just lay there like a tired child who's ready for bed.

    You aren't going to make him mad...

    Like you know?

    Odds are, he's not annoyed with you at all. Something else is bothering him.

    That's the most the voice has ever said to me at one time. But what did it know? Or what do I know? I shouldn't care about what Jaeger feels. I shouldn't care at all. This is just business, basically. He's helping me get my strength back so I can find Olivia. I'll start acting like him. Business-y.

    Jaeger reaches the end of the stairs and pauses for a second before continuing to walk through the living room. He goes to a section of the house I haven't been in yet and carries me into a small office-like room. A tiny bed is against the wall in one corner, machines and wires next to it. An IV bag hangs from its rod.

    "You need to start recovering. I figured I'd let you spend a night out of a hospital bed before staying in it for a couple more days," he says firmly as he lays me on the bed.

    Great. Just splendid.

    He carefully grabs my arm and pats it to make the vein come up. I wince as the needle goes into my skin. He tapes it in place and walks out of the room without saying anything else to me.

    This is when I start feeling like this is all pointless. They should've just let me die out in the forest instead of going through all this trouble of saving me. They should've just let Marcus kill me. I mean, what's one more dead girl? Nothing.

    Stop that. Right now.

    I'll think what I want. I'm tired of trying to get through this. 
    If Marcus gets you, the world will end.

    Stop being so dramatic. 
    I'm serious.

    My stomach drops instantly. My eyes flutter around the room, but hysteria is still a ways away. Panic is what comes first. Am I going crazy, or is there actually someone else in my head? Is my subconscious just trying to make me feel better or is there actually a problem with me dying?

    I sit up straight and reach for the IV--

    That's probably the dumbest thing you could do right now.

    "Why?" I say out loud. 

    The reason you are recovering is so that Marcus can't get you, and the world can be saved.
    Saved from what!

    "He can still get me!" I shout. "He can get me whenever he wants!"

    Not if you learn to--

    "Rue?" Jaeger calls from somewhere else in the house, "Who are you talking to?" Panic is in his voice too.

    Not if you learn to keep him out, Rue. You have the ability.

    "I can't," I whisper. "I'm not strong enough."

    By now I'm hugging my body, tears running down my cheeks.

    Jaeger bursts in the door, "What's going on?"

    I stare at him blankly. What is the point in him not wearing a shirt? There's no reason for him to be flaunting his tone pectoral muscles and abs... My mind draws blank just like my emotions. What the hell is going on with me?

    "Are you okay?" He wipes the tears off my cheeks and holds my face. "What happened?"

    My eyes dart around his face, taking in the scar across his eyebrow and his hard jawline. I suddenly remember the strange tattoo I saw behind his ear when we had been at the park, what feels like five years ago.

    Had I just incorporated him into the dream? Or was my dream a vision, whether past or future?

    I drop my eyes away from his face and try to pull away from him. His hands hold still on my face. His palms are warm and large.

    "Stop," I say weakly. "Just... Stop."

    His eyes search mine before his hands fall, but he continues to look at me worriedly. His chocolate brown hair is tousled in random areas, like he'd been trying to pull his hair out or something. The green in his eyes is dark, but the blue in them is bright.
    I slowly lay my head on the small pillow. "I'm just tired, is all," I whisper.
    Jaeger places two fingers on my neck and gets close to my eyes. "You need another shot." He whispers too.
    After a painful shot in the neck, my eyes start to droop and my mouth starts to yawn repeatedly. Jaeger pulls up a leather desk chair and swivels it around to sit next to me. He kisses my forehead before my eyes close completely.
    What a thrill this is, huh?

[Chapter 17: Sick and Tired of being Sick and Tired]

     They have me jacked up on caffeine and some other drugs to keep me awake. They think that Marcus can't get in my head anymore if I don't sleep or anything like that. I can't space off or sit and think, I'm not allowed to. I have to be doing something 24/7.


     Jaeger, Warren, and some girl are in an office somewhere upstairs, trying to figure out how to keep Marcus away from me and my mind. They're probably concocting stimulants or inventing mixtures and pills that will keep me awake until they can find something else.


     Right now I'm sitting at the granite breakfast bar in Jaeger's kitchen, staring at the condensation roll down the glass jug of lemonade. I stare as the droplet of water runs down the entire jug, jumping and jittering around the glass until it gets to the granite slab.


     Someone turned on a stereo a couple hours ago, blasting random genres of music. I'm not even listening to it anymore; it's just noise. All I want to do is sleep in my own bed at home and wake up to Olivia and Tate. My heart starts pounding at the thought of them.


     The monitor they have me hooked up to is beeping erratically. Very annoying, actually. It's also very frustrating to cart the thing around wherever I go, and getting it up the two flights of stairs isn't a blast, either.


     Olivia and Tate... Where are they? Are they together? Are they... Dead? My stomach drops, and the machine beeps faster. My ears start to ring loudly, and soon I'm covering my ears and screaming. The thudding footsteps coming down the stairs sound like thunder.



     My body doesn't feel my own anymore. It feels foreign. Smells foreign. Looks foreign. I'm not myself anymore; I know Marcus has me this time. The fear in my veins only spikes as he take over, a pressure on my brain that seems to push in some places and pull in another. My arms are popping in directions they shouldn't be, making me gag. I don't have anything to throw up. I don't know how long it's been since I've eaten.



     I watch as my body does things I don't tell it to. I watch, almost as if from a different point of view, like I wasn't even in my body at all. I watch as my eyes roll to the back of my head and my body shudders. I watch myself being tortured and manipulated, twisted and snapped. I watch my friends gape in horror at the sight of my body on the floor. I watch.



     I can't hear anything. I can't hear the words they're shouting, or the shattering glass as they knock the jug of lemonade off the counter top. I can't hear the monitor, but it looks as though I've flat lined. I float above the scene like a ghost, yet not really.



     Marcus' laugh shakes the room, coming from my body's lips. The body I'd once lived in now raises off the floor, chest rising upward, feet off the ground, head hanging like a dead chicken's. The neck snaps upward suddenly, nasty cracking sounds echoing throughout the room. The eyes that used to be blue are now solid black, even the parts that are supposed to be white.


     "Who's winning now, bastard?" Several voices from my mouth chuckle. The mouth contorts into a wicked smile full of jagged teeth.


     Warren grabs my body's legs in the blink of an eye and hauls me down onto the counter top faster than I can process what was happening. Jaeger also moves faster than humanly possible and shoves a needle into my body's throat.


     A screech fills my head (at least my mind, or maybe not even that), and soon the pressure is back on my brain. Pulling and pushing, pushing and pulling. Excruciating pain vibrates through my bloodstream. I snap back into my body completely, followed by the sound of burning saplings.


     Foam is coming from my mouth as I shake uncontrollably. I can hear Jaeger mutter several prayers and he squeezes my hand. After Warren wipes the foam from in and around  my mouth, Jaeger roughly grabs my face. Soon his mouth is on mine, shoving air into my lungs.


     I wish I could tell them I was okay. I wish I could hop off the table and pull Jaeger into a huge bear hug and be happy.


    Stop, just stop. Be strong one more time, get off the counter. Get up and get what you want. Take control. You aren't a puppet anymore.


    Do it. Now.


     Fueled with new-found adrenaline from the voice, I groan inwardly as I fight the pain. I dig my fingers into the barrier between unconsciousness and consciousness and begin to tear. It takes everything I have to make a hole big enough to fit into as I try to come back to reality.


     A gasp escapes my lips as I come to. Jaeger looks down at me with surprised eyes, shocked. He scoops me up carefully and hugs me, crying. It hurts so much to cry, to move, to breathe, but I join him anyway. It feels so good to feel safe, at least for a moment.


     We sit there and cry for about two more minutes before he slides me off the granite slab. I don't want to move, yet it hurts more to resist it.


     "I'll take you up to the shower again," Jaeger whispers. Him and Warren exchange nods before he pads out of the kitchen. His bare feet make scuffing noises on the carpet, but it's kind of soothing. It feels so nice just to hear normal things again.


     I don't know if I honestly doze off before he reaches the stairs, but one moment we are at the bottom, and the next we are walking in the hallway on the second floor toward the bathroom. My head hurts, I don't want to think about anything.


     We pass several open doors, each room with large windows letting in afternoon sunlight. The walls are a soft beige, bare. No pictures hang on them at all. A bookcase sits against the wall between the doors of an office and a bedroom.


     I listen to Jaeger; his breathing isn't stressed or ragged or anything. He isn't struggling to carry me around. Honestly, if I weren't basically dying from pain, I wouldn't mind joking around with him. I wouldn't mind running around outside in the autumn leaves or lay out under the stars with him. I wouldn't mind spending a long time with him at all...


     He pads onto the bathroom tile and sits me down on the ottoman in the middle of the room.


     "Actually, I think you'd much rather sit in the tub than in the shower," he coughs and wipes his eyes. "I don't know why we didn't use it last time."


     I stare straight at the sink, trying not to move. My neck seriously feels broken, and I'm surprised it's not considering the severe cracking it did earlier.


     Jaeger coughs again and kneels down in front of me, "The shot I gave you," he touches the spot so lightly I could barely feel it, "will keep Marcus outta your head for a while..." He gives a lopsided smile, "You're safe.. For now," he whispers.


     A tear rolls down my face, but it's a good one. I'm happy. I feel like I haven't been happy in about two months. I also reek of sweat and dirt.


     I try to clear my throat, "Uh, it will probably be better to shower first. I'd rather not sit in my filth." My voice cracks and is scratchy.


     He shrugs, "It was just an idea... I figured you'd rather sit in a bathtub than sit on a a shower floor."


     He leaves me to myself, alone in this cold bathroom. He leaves me alone to my thoughts, hopefully away from Marcus.


     It hurts to peel my clothes off of my body: a slow and agonizing process. As soon as I get everything off, I gasp as I catch sight of something. A nasty, skinny girl stares at me. Her hair is ratted and matted, her eyes sunk into her face. Her bones protrude under her skin, her stomach a bit bloated. It hurts to know that the person staring back at me in the mirror is myself.


     My twig-like fingers gingerly touch my prominent ribs. I would throw up, you know, if I had anything to puke.


     I turn the water on in the Jacuzzi tub, and sit in it, too tired to lower myself to the shower floor. I wouldn't be able to get up if I did that. The tab fills up quickly, maybe within two minutes. The water is almost scalding, but I leave it. I don't know how long it's been since I've bathed. Obviously a while since I think the last time I ate was the last time I showered.


     I slip under the water, completely submerged. The tub is huge, like my own little underwater escape. I wish I could runaway to the bottom of an ocean and just sit there, watching fish and the sunlight above. I wish I could just breathe underwater.


     I gasp as I sit up to breathe, wiping water from my eyes. Steam rises from the water and wisps away in the air. As I watch more enter the air, I notice Micah sitting on the ottoman.


     My heart races, and I slip a little further into the water so he can't see my body. "W-what are you doing here?" My voice is dangerously weak.


     "Don't be scared..." His voice is soft, and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. At least he's still  a few feet away.


     "Marcus is doing this, isn't he?" I shriek. I start whispering, "Get out, get out, get out."


     "Shh, Rue," he whispers and is suddenly kneeling in front of the tub. "I'm here. Marcus isn't doing this to you, I promise."


     "How do I know that? For all I know, he could be doing all of this right now!" By now I'm crying, but it doesn't really look like I am besides the faces I'm making. Of course by 'right now' I mean everything that had happened today.


     He leans over the edge of the tub, his face terrifyingly close to mine. "I promise, Rue."


     I shake my head, "Leave. Go. Everything was fine before you showed up."


     Micah slowly stands up, "Okay. I'm sorry."


     I sink into the water again, not wanting to look at him. I don't want to watch him walk out, because maybe he won't. Maybe he'll turn into a horrible monster and bite my face off. And then I'd wake up in a nasty smelling white room, strapped to the ceiling or something.


     When I come up, he's gone. A cold chill comes from the open balcony he cliche-ically used to leave. I scoff and grab the shampoo from a low shelf on the wall the tub is glued to. It literally takes everything I have just to squeeze some out on my hand, and it ends up squeezing out a lot more than expected. It shoots across the tub, actually. It probably even gets on the floor.


     "Jaeger!" I yell. I'm too sore to even lift my arms up to wash my hair. "Jaeger!"


     Fast footsteps thud to the door and it's quickly opened.


     "What? What's wrong?" He's wearing basketball shorts that are about three sizes too big without a shirt. Normal high school students would not be as muscular as him. He stares at my hands that are covered in shampoo, "You need help?"


     I sigh, "Yes, please."


     This is the second time with him that I've felt like a little kid. He has to help me wash my hair.


     Jaeger dips his hands in the water and then scoops the shampoo off of one of my hands and starts scrubbing my hair. "I was wondering when you were going to scream for help," he jokes lightly.


     "You shouldn't even have left," I whine.


     "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable when you changed."


     "You wouldn't have. My body made me uncomfortable anyway," I sniffle. "How long have I been like this?"


     His hands slow down in my hair, "It took you about three weeks to get to how you are now."


     I choke on a sob, "You let me get like this?"


     Jaeger leans down to my ear, and his voice sounds pained, "I had no choice, Rue. It took us four days to find you, and after that everything we tried to give you was rejected. We barely kept your IV in. Marcus was sucking everything out of you."


     "Where's Olivia?" I bite my lip, afraid of his answer.


     I can tell that he hesitates before saying something, "We don't know, Rue..."


     I sob some more, feeling depressed and helpless. Marcus has her. For all I know, she's dead.


     "Hun, let me finish washing your hair, okay? We can... We can talk about this when you're done, okay?" He obviously doesn't know what to say, so I just nod to make it easy on him.


      After my hair is washed, he closes his eyes as I wrap a towel around me. He then lifts me out of the tub and sets me on the ottoman.


      The soft light of the light bulbs around the mirror casts a warm glow on his face, and makes his cheek bones more prominent.


      I don't want to move from this spot, in this huge, fluffy towel. I just want to curl up in it and sleep for the rest of my life. Curl up and never have to open my eyes, speak to anyone, or worry about anything. It would be me, myself, and my dreams.


      "I have some clothes for you to change into. I picked up some... Lady things from the store for you, also." He coughed and scratched the back of his head.


      An embarrassed blush settles in my cheeks. "Thanks," I whisper.


     "I have to be weird now, but you haven't had your period since the last time you were, well, normal," he pulls up a decorative chair and basically slams his butt into it. I'm surprised it doesn't break from the force he used in sitting on it..


     I sit up, slightly scared. "Why?"


     "Well your body was so scared that it stopped your menstrual cycle. Since everything is back to normal, you should be getting it soon."


     It's an awkward conversation. The atmosphere is awkward. All I do is nod.


     He leaves and brings me back a bra and underwear, one of his shirts, a pair of his pajama pants, along with pads and tampons.


     It takes a lot to step into underwear and pants, and pulling a bra and shirt on is much more of a hassle. The shirt, since it's so big, isn't that hard to put on. Neither are the pants.


     I crawl into his bed after changing and using female toiletries, and sit in silence for a moment. What is tomorrow going to be like? The same thing? I don't want to go through all this again. I just want everything to be normal again.. I just want to fall asleep and wake up to Tate and Olivia eating breakfast in the kitchen at the apartment.


     Jaeger walks in, "Need anything else?"


    "No, I don't think so..." I sigh and bite my lip, "Will you stay with me, though? I don't want anything happening while I'm sleeping..."


     He nods and offers a smile. I actually do want him to stay because I don't want to get mind-jacked while I'm sleeping or something. I also just want someone to sleep with so I know I'm not alone.


     No, you're never alone.


     Jaeger slides into the bed next to me, "You're never alone."


 

[Chapter 16: Mind Games]

     I whimper and roll over to face the ceiling. My skin sticks to the floor, stinging when I move. A terrible coughing fit seizes me and doesn't end for about a minute.


     I lay there, staring at the flickering fluorescent light, trying to determine what hurt and what didn't. My right hand throbs continuously, screaming when I try to move it. That is obviously going to be no use to me. My right shoulder also joins my hand in the screaming. It's a bloody chorus.


     If someone with a sick sense of humor were watching me, I'm sure my whole process of getting up would crack them up.


     The room I'm in is completely destroyed, demolished. The velvet on the walls is hanging off of them, torn. Another fluorescent light is flickering, but this one is hanging from the ceiling so low that one end is touching the floor. Glass and cement is shattered around. It looks as though the room is from a scene in The Terminator.


     All my weight is on my left leg as I look around. My whole right side is cut and bleeding and probably broken. It hurts to breathe.


     Sobs ache as I limp around, pressing a gash on my left leg with my good hand. I want to be out, to leave. That's all I want.


     "Hello?" I yell as loud as I can. No one answers.


     White light shines through a whole in the wall above the pile of broken cement. Excitement is all I feel. I quickly limp over to the pile of rock and try to climb up it. My legs shake as I climb, threatening to give out. My bare feet try to grip the cement as well as they can.


     I get seriously two feet from the light when my right foot is skinned as it slips between two rocks. I instantly fall backwards. Snapping sounds fill the air, but I can't feel anything. My right foot is still caught between the rocks, my shin snapped and protruding from my skin. I hang there, screaming and crying, my head throbbing and bleeding everywhere.


     I finally pass out from the either the pain, or loss of blood.


     I open my eyes and white light blinds me. I try to shield my eyes with my arm, but it's strapped down. I blink several times before noticing that my other arm is also strapped down, along with my legs.


     "Now how did that feel?" Marcus looms over me, a nasty bruise forming over his left eye.


     "Great," I say sarcastically, panting.


     "I just want you to know I can do that to you whenever I want." His smile is devilish. "You know why?"


     I don't answer him; I jiggle the straps on my wrists. Frankly, I'm not even sure that's what he said. I ignore the hell out of him.


     Until he grabs my face and forces my attention on himself. "Do you know why?"


     "No." I mock his tone. I have no idea what he's talking about. His fingers are really squishing my cheeks though.


     "What just happened to you," he pauses, getting closer to my face, "wasn't real."


     I scoff and try to pull away. His grip is like a vise. "What are you talking about?"


     "It was all in your head, birdie." He taps my temple twice.


     "Po-lease. I couldn't have just imagined all of that."


     Or had I? But how could I imagine all that pain and everything in detail?


     "Oh, you didn't," he says in almost a cheerful voice. "I made you think it. I made you live it."


     "Okay," I laugh sheepishly. "You're psycho."


     I blink and the next thing I know I'm in a light blue room. It reeks of formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. My arms are strapped again, this time keeping me in a chair. The chair is metal, thick. I notice that it's bolted to the cement floor.


     A whirring sound comes from the right corner of the room, so I whip my head around to see Marcus standing behind a large metal monitor. His mouth contorts into a rotten smile and he turns a knob. The whirring gets louder, and soon my chair is shaking.


     "No," I beg. "No, no-"


     I'm cut off as the electricity sears through the chair and into my body. I'm for sure that I'm going to die. My muscles spasm, contract, spasm, contract. A blood-curdling scream emits from my lips, and the electricity cuts off.


     I whimper, head hanging. My breathing is shallow, and I'm surprised my lungs haven't collapsed. The smell of burning flesh makes me vomit.


     "Open your eyes," Marcus demands after I start sobbing.


     I do as he says, afraid I'll get electrocuted to hell. I'm not in the thick metal chair, I can't smell formaldehyde, there's no electric whirring. I'm actually laying in my bed, just not strapped to it. My head spins despite the fact that I'm laying down, and of course, I pass out.





     "You're mine, birdie," a deep, growling voice chuckles.




     I frantically run down the endless hallway, checking every cell, every door for a way out. A door finally opens, but instead of stepping onto a floor, I fall into a giant black hole.




     Laughter echoes around the hole as I fall, the sound of leathery wings accompanying it. I scream as claws grab my stomach, but I don't know what it is. Everything is pitch black. There is no light in this hole whatsoever.




     Marcus' face appears in front of me, somehow lit up. He laughs again, grinning. His teeth are all jagged fangs. 




     "They might have you physically, birdie, but I've got you mentally," his voice is low, gravel-y.




     His hands, with claws as fingers, grab my face. He shouts over my screams, "They might have you  physically, but I've got your mind, your heart, and soon your soul!"




     A long, earth-shattering growl sounded, and his hands rip my chest open. I lay in that giant claw, limp, useless. I can't scream, can't make a sound. I watch as a glowing orange orb floats out of my open torso. It slowly floats out, gently and delicately.




     Marcus' eyes are wide and hungry as he watches the orb. Before he could grab it, I'm shocked again. My body shakes from the electricity coursing through it.




     "Come on!"


     The giant claw lets me go, and I start falling again. Down, down, down into the black abyss. It's almost serene as I fall. The orange orb descends into my chest, and as I'm shocked again, the wound closes up.




     I can anticipate the end of my fall, but I'm okay with it. It'll all be over and soon as I hit the bottom. Closer and closer.




     Another shock of electricity hits me and soon as I smack the ground. 




    
      I sit straight up, gasping and drenched in sweat. Jaeger and Warren stare at me, surprised.



Jaeger's POV

      Her blue eyes are fierce and yet scared, searching our faces. It's almost like she doesn't know what to do or think, yet I don't either. I just stare at her, heart caught in my throat, tears threatening to pour down my cheeks.


      We finally got her back, and I'm not letting her go.