A/N: Alright, I'll be honest. I wrote this MONTHS ago. At some point, I decided it wasn't any good and I just forgot about it. I found it in my documents, re-read it and decided that it was worth a try. It was inspired by another fan fic I read forever ago. I have NO clue what its called, I just remember L was the bad guy. It inspired me to write the same. Obviously, this is AU and OOC, I suppose. Urgh, I hate saying that he's OCC, but perhaps he would be this way HAD he been evil...anyway, I'd like to know what you think. My other story, Last To Know, I will continue. I just decided I'd post this and see where it goes. I currently don't have any other chapters typed up. If the response is alright, I'll probably continue it. Anyways, I'd love to know what you think. Also, this fic is DARK. DARK. You have been warned...

Chapter One: Blinded In Chains

"Is anyone home?" Violetta exclaimed, banging on the door irritatedly.

No response came, and she rolled her eyes in frustration. She really couldn't stand the couple that she worked for, but hey, it was money. They owned the cafe she worked in, and of course, they had called her ten minutes before her shift was over...demanding that she bring food to their house. They overworked everyone, and they were rich, snobby, and rude.

Violetta banged on the door again, seeing their expensive Mercedes was still in the driveway. They had to be home, right? Irritation swarmed through her, and she put her hand on the doorknob, raising her eyebrows when she saw it was unlocked.

Hesitantly, she opened the door.

"Hello?" she called out normally, looking around the room. She didn't see anyone, and she shrugged, setting the food down on the table beside the door. She'd done what she was supposed to do anyway.

As she started to leave, a weird feeling crept down her spine. A feeling that something wasn't right...

Sighing, she turned around, walking up the stairs slowly. She really wanted to get home and change out of her waitress outfit, but she wouldn't feel right leaving until she made sure everything was alright. After all, even if she didn't like them, they were still her bosses.

She frowned when she heard no movement, not even when her heels clicked loudly against the wooden stairs. Surely if they were up there, they would have heard? Regardless, she pressed forward, stopping at the first door on the right.

"Mr. Hale?" she called out, knocking on the door lightly. "Mrs. Hale?"

No response.

Frowning, she sighed, putting her hand on the doorknob and turning it lightly. It was unlocked.

With her heart slightly pounding she opened the door, walking inside the dimly lit room. She saw two figures laying on the bed. Blushing, she instantly looked down.

"OH! I'm sorry I-" Violetta stopped when she saw what appeared to be blood on the floor. Her eyes widened as fear gripped her heart.

Looking up, she hesitantly took a few more steps towards the bed.

Her heart stopped, and absolute terror wracked her body.

There, right in front of her...the two bosses lay massacred in their own bed.

Violetta opened her mouth to scream, but only a horrified sob emitted from her mouth, seeing the mutilated bodies of the couple.

Mrs' Hale's throat was slit, and Mr. Hale appeared to have multiple stab wounds in his chest. There was blood all over their four-poster king bed...so much blood. The bodies were completely naked, suggesting that the middle aged couple had been attacked in the act of intimacy.

Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, with horror, she turned her head to see a tall dark figure standing in the corner.

She opened her mouth, letting out a blood curling scream as she turned to run. The figure instantly darted to her, wrapping one hand around her waist, one on her mouth, as he kicked the door shut.

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins as she struggled against the mans embrace. He was quite strong, but he seemed to be having trouble holding onto her flailing body. She flung her heel back, making contact with his shin. The assailant grunted in pain, and she flung her elbow back, cracking him in the skull.

His hold loosened, allowing her to slip from his grip and dart towards the door. He recovered quickly, however, as she was tackled to the floor. His body crashed down on hers, causing her to hit her head on the hardwood floor as his weight pinned her down, making stars erupt behind her lids.

He was panting above her, and from the grunt and the strength...she knew it was a man. To her complete horror, she felt a prick on her thigh that felt an awfully lot like a needle.

Fear crashed on her in waves as she felt that he had stabbed her femoral artery with the needle. Oh my God, he was going to kill her!

Despite the pain in her thigh and head, she continued flailing against him, even though she knew there was a high possibility he had poisoned her...

"I did not poison you," a males cool voice said behind the black mask that was obscuring his features. "I will not kill you. I have injected you with a strong muscle relaxer—it should calm you. There is no point in fighting at this point."

Violetta whimpered, because as soon as the calm words left his lips...she felt the drug seep into her muscles, making her fall limp underneath his body. But, to her amazement, she remained conscious.

She felt the man lift himself off her body, before bending down and easily lifting her bridal style in his arms, carrying her over to the couch in the room and laying her down.

Her mind was spinning as fast as it could with the drugs effect. Rape crossed her mind multiple times, for surely, a murderer of this degree would be capable of rape, right?

"You weren't supposed to see this," the masked man said from above her, making her frown. His voice was deep, calm, and she hated to admit it...intelligent.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked in a sleepy voice, the drug wreaking havoc through her bloodstream.

He paused for a moment, and she began to wonder if he was even going to answer her.

"What is your name?" he asked in the same, calm voice.

"Violetta..." she mumbled, her eyes fluttering and she struggled to keep them open.

"Do you not have a last name?" he asked, and she sensed irritation in his voice.

'Keep him calm...' she thought to herself, slightly panicked in her mind.

"Duvessa..." she mumbled sleepily, hoping her answer would appease him.

"You are quite lucky, Violetta Duvessa..." the murderer said calmly. "Had you arrived moments earlier, I would have had to kill you."

Violetta would have tensed, had the drug not effected her muscles so greatly.

She felt the murderers hand touch her golden waves, making her breathing rise slightly in fear.

"A-Are you going to rape me?" she asked, her voice slightly trembling in fear.

"I am a murderer, not a rapist," the man said, withdrawing his hand to her relief.

"I wouldn't brag, if I were you."

He paused, clearly shocked at her unabashed cheek; especially considering the situation she was in. Violetta knew it was the medicine. Her mind wasn't processing her fear as it normally would.

"I see..." he murmured from above her. "Well, Miss Duvessa – it is Miss, isn't it? I am assuming from the lack of ring on your finger. In any case, I would advise that you forget what you saw tonight. Should you find anything incriminating to say, I assure you, I will find out...and I also can assure you that I will kill you."

Fear ran through her veins, and she let out a little whimper as she felt another needle stab her thigh.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Miss Duvessa." she heard his smooth voice say before she instantly lost consciousness.

Violetta groaned, rubbing her sore head as she opened her eyes. The stark white ceiling and blinding florescent lights made her squint her eyes in pain. After moments, she opened her eyes, looking around the room.

'A hospital?' she thought confusedly, looking around before her memories crashed over her.

She screamed in horror, remembering seeing the blood soaked corpses...the masked man tackling her to the ground, him stabbing her with a needle...asking for her name, stabbing her again...and that was all she remembered.

Tears were pouring down her face as she hyperventilated in the bed, causing the heart monitor she was attached to to go haywire.

An older doctor burst through the door as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"Miss Duvessa, you must calm down!" the elderly man said, pulling a needle out of his coat and flicking it.

Violetta's eyes widened in fright, a sense of evil dejavu washing over her.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she yelled, pushing away from him and falling on the floor with a yelp.

She cried from the floor, noticing another pair of feet running in the room. They ran around the bed, and her heart calmed when she saw it was her father, who was looking quite distraught.

"Daddy..." she cried as he bent down, taking her shaking body in his arms and shushing her quietly.

"It's okay, baby," he reassured her, rubbing a hand on her back. "You're safe now, no one can hurt you here. He's a doctor and he's just trying to help you calm down."

Violetta clung to her father, not even fighting when she felt the slight prick on her arm. She was in emotion turmoil, all she could see was the Hales bodies in her mind. Granted, she had never liked the couple, but had she wished death upon them? No, of course not.

The sobs started to cease as she felt the medication working, calming her nerves. Whatever the doctor injected her with, it was nothing compared to the stuff that the murderer had injected her with.

"Shhh," her father said, pulling her bridal style in his arms and laying her in the bed. "It'll be alright, I promise."

"She is awake then?" Violetta heard a voice from the door, looking up to see a tall, handsome, blonde haired man in an expensive suit looking at her with a serious expression.

"I am Theodore Gilbert, FBI," the man said, pulling a wallet out of his breast pocket and flashing her a golden badge.

"Can't this wait?" her father protested, looking at the serious man with a frown. "She's clearly traumatized and needs time-"

"No, I've been after this bastard for years," he said, tucking his badge in his jacket. "This is the first time he's let a witness escape him. The more time wasted, the more people die. She could be crucial in putting this person behind bars for good."

"Years?" Violetta muttered weakly, looking at the man. He'd never let a witness go before? She knew in that moment, her life was still in danger.

"Yes, years," the agent said, pulling a chair beside her bed. "It has never been released publicly, but there is a serial killer on the loose. We've been after him for six years, and he always evades us. We never know where or when he's going to strike, as his victims seemed to be picked at random. The only connection we can make is they aren't exactly pillars of society. I suppose you could say he is somewhat of a vigilante.

"But, do not let that fool you. He is cold as he is ruthless. He will kill an innocent to protect himself, and has done so in that past. He's an evil mastermind I suppose you could say. His murders even taunt the FBI."

Violetta gulped. Then, why did he let her go?

"I am curious as to why he let you go..." the agent tilted his head, staring at her.

"I don't k-know," Violetta mumbled. "H-he said if I'd come only moments earlier, he would have killed me..." a small sob wracked her body. "He injected me with something, carried me to the couch, asked my name, injected me again, apologized and left."

"How curious..." the agent muttered. "You must speak with our greatest detective. He is very eager to hear your story, as he has searched for him for years."

"But I don't know anything worthwhile," Violetta sobbed. "It was dark, and he was completely covered. I didn't see any of his face...nothing. How could I possibly help?"

"It's more than anyone else has seen," the agent said sternly, looking at the doctor. "Is she stable enough to leave?"

"Yes," the doctor nodded, pulling out some pills. "These are some sedatives to keep her calm and help her sleep. But otherwise, she is uninjured. I would recommend psychological counseling to help her deal with her ordeal, though." the doctor smiled at her weakly, patting her on the shoulder.

"Very well," the agent said, standing. "Please come with me, Miss Duvessa."

Viloetta sighed, shakily standing from the bed with her fathers assistance as she followed the agent out of the door.

Violetta looked around, sitting in a plain room with only a metal table and chairs. There was a speaker box in front of her, and across the room was a mirrored glass, where she supposed other agents were watching her.

"Miss Duvessa?"

She jumped lightly at the distorted voice coming through the speaker.

"Did you see anything identifiable on the murderer?" the distorted voice went straight to business, making her frown. "Race, tattoos, piercings...anything that you can remember?"

"N-No, I didn't. He was completely covered in black clothing," she answered honestly, looking at the mirror, knowing detectives were on the other side.

"What about his eye color?" the electronic voiced asked. "Do you remember that?"

She frowned, wracking her brain. The black mask the killer was wearing only had small openings for the eyes...and all she could remember was seeing black. The room was probably too dark for her to make out any eye color.

"No, I couldn't make out an eye color," she answered after moments. "It was dark in the room. All I remember is black..."

'and blood...' she shivered.

"What did he say to you? Was there anything identifiable about his voice?"

Now that it was mentioned...yes, there was!

"Yes, as a matter of fact..." she murmured. "He sounded British...but, I'm not quite sure. If he is, it was a very light accent, probably meaning that he only lived in the U.K for a certain amount of time and is not a native." she mused, biting her lip slightly.

The intercom was quiet for moments. Had she said something wrong?

"And what did he say to you?"

"He told me he wasn't going to kill me," she answered, shivering. "H-he...asked me for my name. I told him, and he threatened me-"

"What was his threat?"

"...That he would kill me if I gave any incriminating information about him," she sighed, looking down.

"Due to his threat, are you withholding information?"

Violetta jerked her head up. "No! I just didn't see anything very helpful..."

"Why did he spare you?"

"I don't know!" she hissed, slamming her fists on the table. "Do you really think I know what's going on in the mind of a mass murderer?!"

The intercom was quiet for moments and she frowned, waiting for the voice again. It didn't disappoint.

"What else did he say to you?"

"He apologized to me for the inconvenience," she said, cringing at the twisted memory. "He touched my hair, and I asked if he was going to rape me...he responded that he was a murderer, not a rapist."

"...Hmm, I see."

"..."

"Did he give you any indication that he would be contacting you in the future?"

"No, not unless I talked," she said, frowning. "He said he would find out. If I spoke, that he would know."

"What was his body type?"

She wracked her brain.

"Thin, and he was quite tall," she answered, remembering his thin frame that fell on her.

"What would be the estimated height?"

"Um, around six feet, I suppose..."

"Is there anything else that you could provide that is of importance?" the electronic voice asked after a paused moment.

She racked her brain again, trying to think of anything else that would be of help. After moments, she came up with nothing.

Feeling rather dejected, she shook her head no.

"Very well..." the voice trailed off. "I may contact you in the future. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Of course-" she stopped when she heard the 'click' signaling that he cut off the mike.

"What an ass..." she mumbled under her breath.

The door opened, and detective Gilbert walked in, giving her a strained smile. The man was obviously too serious.

"I suppose you're free to go home," he informed her. "But, please make yourself available in case we need to ask more questions."

Violetta said nothing, just nodded as she stood and walked out the door with him.

Her dad was waiting for her and she smiled, walking up to him.

"Are you ready, bunny?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, please, lets go home," she groaned, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

They walked through the station in a comfortable silence. She sighed sadly, realizing she was very lucky to be alive and watching her feet as she walked.

"You stay here," her dad said, stopping near the entrance. "I'll go get the car and pull it around front."

Looking up, she nodded as he smiled and walked out the door.

She huffed, clicking her heel against the ground. Her skin was prickling, and she had the eerie feeling of being watched. With an irritated expression, she looked around the station, her eyes finally finding the culprit.

"Huh?"

Her eyes widened.

There, leaning against the wall, was a young man. A young, uncomfortable looking man with an intense expression. His dark eyes had large bags underneath, looking as like he'd hadn't slept in weeks...no, in his entire life. He was thin in the extreme and quite tall. Perhaps, he would have been taller if he wasn't slouching as extremely as he was. He was wearing a plain white tee-shirt, baggy jeans, and his bare feet were crammed directly into beaten sneakers. Pale hands were shoved in his pockets, and he appeared to be stiffer than a statue. His straight, long, messy, jet black hair was hanging across his cold eyes, making his gaze seem more sharp as he stared at her, unblinking.

For some reason, Violetta felt a heavy dose of fear travel through her veins.

'Probably some druggie,' she thought to herself.

Although he looked quite clean, his appearance was very sloppy. As though he didn't care in the least bit what he looked like. She wouldn't necessarily say he was ugly, per-say, but he definitely wasn't handsome. His pale skin was unblemished, his nose and jaw was straight and angular. Actually, he had quite fine features, but his languid appearance ruined any natural features he may have had. Even as she looked back at him, catching that he was staring, his gaze didn't waver in the least bit. He continued staring and she stared back, waiting for him to blink.

She decided he was the creepiest man she'd even seen. This dude was the epitome of creepy.

She continued staring, gulping slightly as chills ran down her spine and goosebumps erupted on her flesh.

"Violet?"

She jumped, clutching he heart as she spun to see her dad standing there, looking at her questioningly.

"I-I'm fine..." the seventeen year old gulped, glancing back around – staring in shock when she saw the creepy man was gone.

"What are you looking for, honey?" her dad asked, looking around with her.

"Oh, um...its not important," she chuckled. "Let's go home."

She flung open her bedroom door with a sigh. After hours of convincing her father she was okay, she'd finally be able to be alone and it was already eleven at night! He'd already set up an appointment for her to see a psychiatrist. She had insisted otherwise, claiming they didn't have the money for such a thing. They really didn't. His salary as a mechanic and her wages as a waitress didn't exactly bring in the huge bucks. Especially now, assuming that she was out of a job...seeing as her bosses were dead...

She shook her head, pushing that to the back of her mind. She couldn't have a breakdown now, not after insisting to her father that she was alright.

Sighing, she went into her bathroom, looking at her ragged appearance in the mirror. She almost laughed, thinking what she had thought of that man...when she looked almost just as bad. Her golden hair was a mess, and her sapphire eyes looked...traumatized. Her skin was paler than usual, and she had a look of having just seen a ghost. No wonder her father was so worried.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she quickly undressed and climbed in the shower. As she lathered her hair, she let her mind trail to finding a new job. She'd already mentioned it to her father, who insisted that it would be fine if she wanted to take the summer off. He was just being concerned. Money would be too tight if she didn't get a job; or her father would be overworked trying to make ends meet. She couldn't allow that to happen.

Quickly finishing up, she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her frame. Walking up to the mirror, she quickly brushed her teeth and hair.

She looked in the mirror, sighing a little in relief when her features looked much less tense.

Smiling lightly, she opened the bathroom door, running her fingers through her hair as she walked towards her dresser.

Suddenly, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, causing her to scream into the hand in horror. The killer! But, she hadn't said anything incriminating!

She struggled, but this time, he seemed more prepared and she wasn't able to struggle from his grasp as easily.

"I'd hate for you to wake your father from his slumber," he whispered harshly against her ear, making her freeze. "The effects of doing such would be quite devastating indeed. I do not wish that to happen."

She was panting, practically hyperventilating through her nose. Clearly, he had threatened her father...if he awoke, and saw him in here...he'd kill him too instead of just her.

"Now, are you going to be quiet?" he asked, making her shiver as his breath washed across her ear. "Or do I have to administer my tranquilizer?"

She couldn't stop herself from shaking in fear as she nodded her head once.

She felt his gloved hand slowly lifting from her mouth, clearly testing to see if she kept her word. One peep and she knew that he'd slam his hand back down on her mouth.

"Stay still," he said quietly as he pulled his frame away from hers.

Quaking with fear, she clutched her towel to her, praying to the God's that if he was going to kill her, she hoped he didn't force her to get naked first.

She jumped as she saw black fabric go over her eyes, completely obscuring her vision.

"Relax, it is necessary."

"Why does it matter if you're going to kill me?" her voice shook terribly. "Does it matter what I see?"

"I am not going to kill you."

"Then why are you here?" she whispered, her heart pounding as he turned her body around. "You're obviously displeased about what I said today. Though, I didn't think I said anything incriminating at all...p-perhaps you think differently."

He was quiet for moments, making her heart pound and her knees tremble in fright.

"I must admit, I do wish you did not mention the accent..." he trailed off, making her heart drop. "But, it will not lead to me in any shape or form. Sit." he commanded, grabbing her arms and leading her towards, what she assumed was her bed. She felt the blankets touch the back of her knees, and she sat down shakily, clutching the towel like it was her life line.

"Why did you let me go?" she asked, in spite of herself. Was this how it was going to be? Was he going to torment her the rest of her life? Showing up randomly in her bedroom, making her live in fear.

"I just did not deem it necessary to kill you," he said blandly and she tensed, feeling his weight fall next to her on the bed.

"...Why are you here now?"

"For your situation, you are being awfully demanding," he said quietly, making her face flush and her heart quicken in fear.

"You are much more observant than I had originally given you credit for," he said after a moments pause. "I never expected you to accurately guess something such as that...based on my accent alone. It was very clever. You are intelligent, aren't you?"

Was she supposed to answer that? Well, yeah, she supposed she was. She'd always gotten good grades in school. She'd never failed any tests, if that's what he meant.

'He's an evil mastermind.' Detective Gilbert's words ran through her head.

He didn't seem to be waiting for an answer.

"You're very brave, also," he whispered, and to her horror, she felt his gloved hand stroke her locks briefly, making her quiver in fear.

"How curious..." he murmured. "It seems that you would prefer to be murdered over being raped...care to explain why?"

"That's not t-true..." she said, her voice shaking. Was he thinking about rape now? Oh God, no...

"I believe that subconsciously, it is," he said quietly, raising his hand to her shoulder, grasping it lightly and making her tense. "See..." he trailed off, removing his hand and she could almost hear the mock in his voice.

"I don't want a murderer touching me," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I am sure that's understandable."

He fell quiet, and she started to regret even speaking at all.

"Yes, well, considering your unexpected observation today..." he said quietly. "I thought it best to come and ask you if you noticed anything else. Perhaps, something you were too afraid to tell the police?"

"N-No, I've already racked my brain," she said quickly. "What I told them was all I had to tell..."

He was quiet again, and she found herself really wishing he'd stop doing that. It raised her nerves a few notches each time, and God knew that wasn't good as she already felt a heart attack coming on.

"I believe you," he said after a moments pause, making her relax slightly.

"A-Are you going to leave me alone now?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I haven't decided," he said, making her tense.

"I can't live, constantly looking over my shoulder and wondering if you're going to show up and grab me from behind," she said instantly, hoping to sway him.

"I'm sure," he said, sounding like he didn't care. "You're a smart girl. I have already told you I won't kill you, you have no reason to fear me-"

"I have every reason to fear you," she cut in, shifting away from him. "Why did you kill my bosses?"

"..."

"It is not your concern," he said in a serious voice. "I do what I do for my own reasons. I will not stop and I assure you, I will never be caught. I would not waste time mentioning this to the police...if you do, as you can see, I will know. I will not be happy, and may consider taking back my word on not killing you."

'I'm telling...' Violetta thought to herself. There was no way in hell she wasn't!

She heard the man next to her sigh deeply and as she couldn't see, she felt a needle stick in her thigh, making her jump in shock.

"W-what!?" she exclaimed quietly, panicking as she stood frantically from the bed.

It was a mistake however, when she felt her muscles relax, and her legs gave away. He caught her and once again, carried her over to the bed as her body remained mostly limp.

Suddenly, she felt a bare hand on her thigh, making her blood freeze in terror as she felt his body lean over hers.

"I said I'm not a rapist and I am not," he whispered against her ear as he caressed her thigh, making her internally shiver. She knew she'd be in tears if the drug wasn't clouding her mind.

"However, I know my weapons," he whispered, trailing his gloved hand higher up her thigh. "And I use them as I see fit..."

"Please, don't..." she whispered weakly, feeling disgusted with herself as slight excitement ran through her veins at his feather light touch. It was the drug, it had to be.

With horror, she felt his hand tug at her towel, causing it to fall around her body, completely exposing her to him.

She felt him lean back, and she knew he was looking over her body. Her mind reeled with disgust when she clearly heard his breathing increase in excitement.

"Until next time, bunny..." he suddenly said blandly, causing her to tense. How did he know that?! That bastard! He knew her father called her that and was intentionally throwing that in there as a threat. He meant to scare her and it worked...How had he been watching her? How much had he been watching her?

With that, she felt his touch and presence move away from her. She heard his footsteps trail away from her, and stop altogether.

She desperately tried lifting her arms to cover herself, but she only managed an inch before they shook and fell back on the bed. Crying, she waited a few minutes, trying to get her scrambled thoughts together. Her brain wasn't functioning properly and she knew that if it was, she'd be in a full on panic attack.

She felt disgust run through her body.

Feeling bile rise in her throat, she waited for what felt like an eternity before she felt normal again. She shakily lept off the bed, running into the bathroom before falling on her knees in front of the toilet, releasing all the contents of her stomach in the porcelain bowl.

Her mind was racing as she gasped, thinking about him touching her thigh...opening her towel and looking at her body. Her shoulders heaved, and she gagged into the bowel again with tears leaking out of her eyes.

She couldn't help but to wonder...what had she done to deserve this? Terrifying her wasn't enough, technically, he had sexually violated her.

Crying into the bowel, she ripped her towel off and ran into the shower, turning the water on hot and scrubbing her skin raw. She cried during the whole shower, trying to pull herself together for her father. What he had done...it had worked. There was no way she was ever telling anyone what occurred. She feared for her life, and her fathers.

If she thought that her information could help them catch him, she'd tell. But, from what she could tell...that simply wasn't happening. He was too smart, and had been loose for too long. What if they never find him? The police couldn't protect her from him for forever...no better than she could protect herself. She didn't have a choice.

"Oh God, what am I going to do?" she whispered, leaning her forehead against the cool tile and sighing heavily. Was there even anything she could do?