Author's note: Here begins the work that I have undertaken to rewrite and continue this story that I started so long ago. When I decided to look back on this, and read over the five chapters I had published, I was underwhelmed with the plot and the writing was subpar—so this getting a small following, was nothing short of a miracle. If you're an old fan from back in the day, welcome to the new and improved "Sanctuary". If you're a new reader, welcome as well, and I hope you like what I've done so far. As a new policy of mine, I've added content/trigger warnings in these author notes (which will always be found at the beginning of each chapter) to give you a heads up as to what's ahead and how you can avoid reading the passages that might make you uncomfortable; as this story will be delving very much into touchy subjects and violent, graphic scenes will be frequent. I hope none of this has deterred you from continuing, so without further ado, here's the first chapter.


"Wake me, revolve in my wounds,
lay down your enemy; in the fire of a last temptation.

Hate me, for wasting my time on commonalities.

In this city of the dead." -Kamelot


"Get up, move... now!" The woman snarled in Russian, her black hair falling into her face.

The frail and frightened prisoner in front of her obeyed immediately, getting up and making her shaking way towards a door.

The Woman scoffed at her captives slow haste, and jabbed her in the back with a whip. "Come on, move it. We don't have all day here." she snarled, and cracked her whip against the concrete walls.

The prisoner jumped and made a soft whimpering noise, before cowering into the next room.

The Woman smirked and walked over, as she circled her feeble prey. She spat at its feet, and then folded her arms to her chest. "Close the door." she ordered, and a buff man walked out from nowhere and shut the door behind them; its metal surface clanking once it was shut securely.

The Woman stopped walking and then looked at the pitiful specimen in front of her, thinking on how to get the truth out of her this time.

"So, you know the drill sweetheart: I ask you questions and you answer them. If you don't give me what I want—well, you've been in here long enough to know what will happen."

She then gave a cruel smile, and whacked the whip against the cold floor, causing her victim to yelp and back up against the wall.

"Do I frighten you darling? Oh well, you shouldn't be scared of me. In fact, we could have been great friends…. If only you didn't try to escape those previous three times."

The Woman walked over swiftly and grabbed her target by the hair. "Speak, bitch!" she snarled, causing the girl to to scream in agony and fear.

"Speak and all of this will be forgotten." The Woman stated calmly, as though she had stated this lie thousands of times.

That's what she said last time, and the time before that… How many times must I take this until they've learned that I cannot be satisfied by these reassurances anymore?

The prisoner's mind was ablaze, and her veins pulsed with anger and resentment and dread, but nothing she could say or do would make a difference in the Russian's opinion of her.

"Like I've said all those other times miss, I know nothing."

There was a loud crack and the Woman had whipped her disobedient, lying hostage on her shoulder.

Said victim's entire body seemed to tremble from the impact of rough leather on calloused skin, and her eyes filled with tears as the pain shocked through her entire core. However, she did not dark make a sound of protest.

"Do not lie to me." The Woman hissed, and inched closer towards the cowering figure.

"I am not lying." She stated calmly, and the whip cracked again.

"How many times must we go through this, Jasmine?"

The woman, Jasmine, shuddered at having her name muttered by such a disgusting person. "As many times as it takes to finally let it sink into your heads that I know nothing." Jasmine hissed back.

The Woman raised a fine raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "You think showing off that kind of behavior is going to let you go off easier here?" she whispered, her voice deadly.

Jasmine flinched at her stupidity, and the memories of being subjected to unending pain and torture began flooding her memory as her warden continued to glare down at her with those hollow black eyes.

"Put one foot wrong out here, and somebody gets it, and that somebody is you." The Woman snarled, and another crack echoed throughout the cell.

"Let's see, I suppose I'm feeling rather lenient, so we'll just give you the usual." she smirked and snapped her fingers; a man appearing with another whip, and a bag.

Jasmine bowed her head and fell silent, resound almost, as she let the Woman whip away at her body and the salt sting her wounds.