The blood coursed through my veins, and with no signs of this adrenaline rush subsiding, I began to accept the fact I may not make it out. I heard shouts coming from outside the closet I had been hiding in… With no clean escape plan coming to mind, I found myself thinking the only way out of this god-forsaken place was to fight. With my head throbbing from exertion, and my hands shaking from a combination of adrenaline and fear, I locked my rear foot in place and was ready to strike. I heard their hellish squeals and screams coming closer, damned mutts never gave up, did they? Running for my life only made them work harder, run harder, and seem to smell me better too; these things lived off of fear, and I came to this realization a little too late…

As I raised my arms, weapon in hand, above my head, I heard the first one coming closer and closer, and I just froze. I could do nothing more than weep like a child, like a damn, fearful, miserable child; hadn't I trained for these moments, hadn't the three years of pain, and degradation prepared me for this? Apparently not, as the wooden door came crashing down towards me, the fasteners and screws finally giving up their hold to the hounds; and the first leaped, sinking its yellowish fangs into my shoulder, and then my neck, tearing into the flesh like a wild beast, until called away by its master. All the time I just laid there cursing myself for giving up so easily, cursing myself for giving him the power, and letting her slip from my grasp, then to lay there, as she was beaten and violated; looking into my eyes and pleading me to help, I could do nothing… These men took everything from me, and I could do nothing back, it's as if their mere presence took away a man's power, and left him as nothing more than the dust one wipes off of their boot, or the blood wiped from their blade.

Even with all these thoughts, I could only just lie there, and let these men continue to destroy all that I loved and held dear… They killed and raped and murdered for fun, they didn't even get money out of it; they did it just for kicks. Their leader, was no different, except instead of a sadistic happiness, I saw nothing but a cold, steely gaze; one that could cut through the souls of those with the greatest pride and resolve. It would cut them down at the ankles, and they would never even try to get back up. His gaze defeated you before he even touched you. Then, with no effort at all he would destroy all that you loved right in front of your eyes… Just because he knew that he could.

They were tattooed savages, nothing more than vultures, living off of others pain and suffering; and I hated them. I would kill all of them and not blink an eye, because my whole life, I've been beaten by people like this, I let my anger get the better of me and they all outsmarted me, every one of them, but not today, not like this. They made a mistake, the rope dragging me along the ground, the cuts in my wrists and ankles, the blood staining the rope red, it all just enraged me, enraged me so that, my vision didn't turn red; but instead, it cleared. Everything seemed to slow, and I could see all of their weaknesses, it felt as if they could hide nothing from me now, and I smiled…

Even as the last image of his face flashed before my eyes as he walked out the door of this warehouse, I knew he would die in the end, even as the men surrounded me, beating me with baseball bats, and asking "when was the candy going to fall out?", I knew I was going to win, nothing would stop me from saving her, and nothing would stop me from watching the life leave those cold grey eyes, I would stop him if it was the last thing I did.