My english teacher always taught me that a good story starts right in the middle of the action. He said that fluffing about is boring and unnecessary. So, this starts in the middle of the action.
I dont always agree with this though, but I thought I'd test it out to see if his theory is true.

READ READ READ !
KGO :D

I had to find my way out. I had to get out of here. I had to find Amy.

Slowly, quietly and painfully, I pulled my bloody and bruised wrists from their iron shackles. I didn't have time to worry about the pain. My best friend was the only thing on my mind. She didn't deserve to be in this situation. She was so good and pure. I drew a deep breath before I approached the door. If there was a god, I was praying to him to let me get to her, to keep her safe, and to not let this freaking door creak and give me away.

To my luck, the door squeaked only silently – the first obstacle out of the way. Now on to the more difficult. We were in an abandoned factory, with several old machines and several closed doors. He could have Amy in anyone of them. He could be right behind me. He could be anywhere and I wouldn't know. With closed eyes I started to walk, my instincts puling me the direction I hoped Amy was in.

I reached a door and placed my ear against it.

"Ah, so you're finally awake." His voice was sadistic and amused. It sickened me. All I could hear from Amy was a whimper. "I wonder when your friend will awaken. Feisty young one she is, just the way I like them." Again, there was nothing but a whimper from Amy. "I'm sorry to say my dear, but you're not really the one I'm interested in. Just some fun. And who knows, maybe I'll even use you to my advantage. Your friend will be quite angry – oh what a delight this will be."

There was no speaking for a while, not even Amy's whimpers. My brain was no longer capable of thought; my instincts were all I knew. I barged the door down ready to fight an army if it meant saving my best friends life. Throughout the whole ordeal, I hadn't even prepared myself to see what I saw now.

The man, holding her bound hands above her head, smiling as he forced himself in and out of her. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but the tears still fell. I was distantly aware of a loud, animalistic scream but I didn't have time to register who made the sound as I ran towards the man and with all my strength, knocked him away from her. I placed myself between him and Amy.

"Stay the fuck away from her." I was shocked that I didn't recognise my own voice.

"I do love a good complication" he murmured, his face alight with excitement. He took a step forward as I took one back, closer to Amy. "Here's how this is going to work. She can leave. If she can get out of the warehouse without falling prey to one of my traps then I suppose it's a loss I'll have to face – but it's highly unlikely she will. And you my dear, well I have bigger plans for you. I think I'll keep you for a little while. You amuse me. After all, better you than her? Or is your bravery a sham? Would you prefer I let you go and keep her? The choice is yours." Without taking my eyes from the psycho's, I reached back and grabbed Amy's hand, slightly pulling her towards me so I could whisper to her.

"Amy, leave. Don't look back. I don't care what you hear or see. You concentrate on getting out of here, back to your parents. Do you understand me?" I didn't wait for a response before I pushed her away from me, towards the door I had barged through.

"Ah, you are all I could have ever hoped for and more. You'll provide me with such entertainment." He took a step towards me, then another, then another.

"Amy, go now!" I heard her quick footsteps as she ran from the room, as he approached me with a sickening smile across his face. Before I knew what happened, he'd hit me over the head, and I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped my lips as I fell into unconsciousness. Amy would get out. She would be safe.

xXx

I woke up in pain. There wasn't a part of me that didn't hurt. As I tried to move my arms, I felt the heavy iron once again placed around my wrists, now digging in further to the wounds they had made before my unconsciousness.

I gave up on trying to move, so I slumped my body, and waited. Waited for help. Waited for Him. Waited to wake up. I just waited. I don't know how long it was before the door had finally opened and the inevitable happened. He was back.

He walked in with a tray in his hand. "I brought you some food. I hope you're hungry." As he approached I got a good look at him in the now lighter hours of the day. He was short for a man, about 5 ft 7'' and he was at least in his fifties – you could see the grey of his hair shine. I don't know what it was about him, but he seemed familiar. He just had one of those faces I assumed, and I left it at that. He placed the tray next to me and slapped me. "Answer me when I speak to you. I hope you're hungry," he repeated. I didn't answer, again. Instead I gathered up the saliva in my mouth and spat in his face. Bastard, I thought. He slapped me again and I could feel the blood pooling in my mouth, but I refused to show him I was in pain. I again spat in his face, this time a mix of blood and saliva coated his features. His eyes blazed like fire. "We can play it like this, Princess, if you really want too." I squirmed when he called me princess. It sounded so wrong, so evil. He backed away for a moment and studied me. Then, as fast as lightning, he'd ripped all my clothes from my body and pushed himself between my legs. Think, Rose, think! My mind was screaming at me to come up with a plan, but I had no answers.

"So what?" I asked. "You rape me, hit me over the head again and leave. Then repeat the process? You'll never get what you want. I won't break that easily." Okay, so I didn't actually know what he wanted. I just assumed he was trying to weaken me, so I would cooperate. I was clearly mistaking.

"All I want from you my dear, is to hear that delicious scream of yours. I want you to scream for me. You will scream for me." He unbuckled his pants and they dropped to his ankles. I could feel his erection and it seemed absurd to me that this could be pleasurable for him; after all, he was torturing another human being. "Are you ready for me baby," he snarled before forcing himself into me. I bit my lip to stop from crying out as he broke my walls. I would not give him the satisfaction of screaming in pain, screaming for help, screaming in fear. I wouldn't let him win.

I don't know how long he continued for. But my lips had long since dried of blood. When he had finally finished, he punched me in the stomach, hard and laughed as I cried out in pain. And then he left. With tears in my eyes I felt myself drift into an unconsciousness that I welcomed.

So, reviews would be muchly appreciated.
choi for now,
JD