I started to scream a loud, piercing scream at the top of my lungs. The captor put his hand over my mouth and nose, cutting of my scream and my breath. He put a blindfold over my eyes. Frantically, I tried to get out from his grip, but there was nothing I could do. He was bigger, stronger, and he had the element of surprise.

I desperately kicked and flailed but he didn't budge. Two other hands were on my back, dragging my by my heels. I tried to scream again, but it came out no better than a muffled whisper.

I should've felt cold in my little, strapless dress I was still wearing from the club, but I was burning hot. I could practically feel the make up coming off with sweat.

I was shoved into a car and handcuffed to the handle above the seat that you'd normally hang clothes on. A needle was injected into my arm, and before I even had time to process it, I passed out.

The room was dark and cold. I lifted my hands up as a reflex, but they were handcuffed to a chair. My ankles were too. The metal chair felt like ice against my bare back, arms, and legs.

I was still drowsy from the sedative, but I was awake and aware enough to know that I was in trouble.

I heard a chuckle from somewhere in the room, followed by someone clearing their throat. I looked around, panicked. I couldn't see anything except my phone on the table in front of me. It shone like a flashlight, buzzing with someone's call.

"Hello?" I called out into the darkness. No answer.

A man came into view, about six feet tall and broad shouldered. He was in all black.

"Do—do you know who I am? Who my father is?" My voice came out shakier than I'd hoped.

"You're Madison Murray," his voice was deep and cold. "Your father is David Murray."

"Then you know I have money. Lots of it. My family will pay you whatever you want."

"Unfortunately for you, we don't care about your money."

"I—what?"

The sentence hit me like a brick. If they didn't want my money, I was totally and completely screwed. But then again, if they didn't want our money, why were they still keeping me alive.

"I don't pull the strings, Ms. Murray," he said. "I just do what I'm asked."

He began to pull a knife out of his belt. That was it. That was the end. I could feel it. There was no way out. I was going to die. He advanced toward me, carrying the knife in his left hand. I looked around for anything that could help me. I was desperate.

"Please," I begged. "Please don't hurt me."

Tears started spilling out of my eyes. It was the first time I'd cried in a year.

"Please," I sobbed. "Please, I'll do anything! Please!"

He rose his hand to strike. "No! You can't! Please don't kill me!"

I was full on sobbing loudly, getting ready to die. I didn't know what you were supposed to do, but I started praying in my thoughts. I wasn't religious or anything, I'd never been in a church, and God knows how many times I've sinned, but I figured if I was going to die, and there was a God, I should pray.

I closed my eyes, expected the strike, but it didn't come. Instead I heard a twang, and something falling on the ground. My eyes shot open. The guy before me looked from his hand to the knife and arrow lying on the ground. Another arrow whizzed by his head, grazing his ear. He angrily spun around, ear bleeding, looking into the darkness of what I guessed was a warehouse.

The vigilante had made an appearance. The Hood Guy, as they'd been calling him, was barely recognizable. All I could see was a glimpse of his green hood.

"Come out, vigilante," the attacker said.

Hood Guy took a step forward. I could now see his leather outfit. My attacker ran towards him and knocked him to the ground. The wrestled until the vigilante threw a punch that hit him square in the jaw. The attacker tried to hit him but he ducked and rolled under the punch, standing up. He tried to get up too, but Hood Guy put one arm on him and hit him again, knocking him out this time. Then he turned to me.

"We have to go," he said in a low, disguised voice.

I nodded with wide, scared eyes.

"You'll be okay," he said as he unlocked my handcuffs with a pair of keys.

"W-Where'd you get those?" I stammered.

"You don't want to know," he answered, dragging me with him. We jogged towards and exit and up some stairs that led to the roof.

"How…how are we getting down?"

He shot an arrow with what looked like a string to another building across from us.

"Get on my back and hold on."

"I…" I looked at how far down the streets were. I was terribly afraid of heights. "No, I can't."

"Get on me right now," he hissed urgently.

I shook my head and took a step back. He grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder, and jumped off of the building. I held on as tight as we swung down to the next building onto the roof there. We ran across it to the fire escape on the other side. He climbed down first and then I did, afraid that if I looked down I would freeze and then even the vigilante wouldn't be able to get me off. Luckily, we made it down safely.

The sound of sirens grew closer. I knew that they were almost here.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I stood still for a moment. I tried to look at his face to see who he was, but the green hood shielded it and it was to dark to see anything. I saw a little stubble on is chin, highlighted by a chopper above. He looked up at it and I saw his body tense.

"Don't leave me," I said. I hated how desperate I sounded. "Please."

The light focused on him and though I couldn't see his eyes, I knew they were full of dilemma. Leave me out here to find my own way back, or have his secret identity revealed.

"Follow me," he said, and took of running from the side of the building to the back alley. We hopped on his motorcycle and drove away onto the street. The police cars were more concerned with what my attackers than following us. Two were sent to follow, but the Hood easily evaded them.

We cruised downtown from there, my heart pounding. I was too shocked to process that we were heading towards my estate.

"Where do you live?"

I directed him towards it and told him that we were already on route. We got there in fifteen minutes or so, but it felt live five. I climbed off the motorcycle but he stayed on it and kept his helmet on too. I didn't know what to say to him.

"Thank you."

He simply nodded, backed out of my driveway, and drove away. I walked to the front door, shivering.