Throbbing. Waves. Spinning. Nausea.
I am alive. Alive! Thank God.
Fear. Cold. Quiet. Naked. WHAT?
Olivia, the human, wills her head to stop the confusion and focus.
Focus on your heartbeat. Your breathing. What can I feel? Skin is cold. Why am I naked? Am I naked? Can't move. Head spinning and reeling me through different realities. Focus. What can I hear? My breathing. Is that mine? I feel tape on my mouth? Can't move my arms or legs. Open your eyes! Dark still. Are they open? Look around. Nausea. Don't look around. Listen. Focus. Heartbeat. Breath in. Breath out. That hurt some. Why? Again, breath. My lungs hurt. FEAR! SOMEONE GRABBED ME! FIGHT!
He likes watching It as It begins to waken. The brows furrow and crinkle. Nostrils flare and relax. A little noise. He likes how helpless It sounds and looks in Its new room. He hardens between his legs when It pulls at the handcuffs. He watches every expression, every twitch, every move made in vain and he smirks at the ideas coming to him. He cannot wait to make It beg. Make It bleed. Make It cry. He will enjoy this greatly, just as he has been planning for more than two years now.
He had three practice runs before THIS Creature came to be his. The others were for him to perfect his techniques for THIS one! IT belongs to HIM NOW! Now he has his Top Prize and his anticipation mounts to an uncontrollable serge and he begins his SECOND conquest, but It is awake for this conquering and he becomes fully aroused as It fights his touch.
What is that? Don't touch me! No! Stop it now! HELP ME!
She screams at her attacker but to no avail. Small, scared, helpless. That is what her pleas sound like to her ears, muffled by the restrictive properties of the silver obtrusion to her voice. Her voice has being taken, along with her freedom and her rights. All in just a few shorts moments. Her heart cries out in desperation as she struggles against this horrifying onslaught to her soul, body and very core of her being.
His hands grab and pull her body every which way. Her hands, cuffed overhead are useless. The thought crosses her mind that Brian is the last man to touch her willingly and her heart cries out for him. Then, HE is hurting her legs, pulling at them and digging fingers into her thighs. She is powerless to stop the assault her body is enduring. His body lays on top of her, trapping her torso as he enters her and her soul cries in angst and her spirit breaks under this torture.
"What do you mean there are no new leads?" Cragen barks into the receiver of his desk phone in total frustration. He listens with a look of irritation plainly evident on his face as his crew waits for updates in the other room.
They have been combing the city for 30 hours now with nothing new to help their friend and coworker. More than that, she is their leader, their backbone, their foundation. She is the heart of SVU. They knew this but didn't truly realize until her life was in jeopardy. They were each dealing with mixed emotions from rage, to fear, to panic, to defeat; each time a lead fizzled into the drudge of repeated information they acquired from each source at the abduction sight. Nothing new since. Nothing.
Cragen controlled his negative emotions as he walked into his squad room, "Where are we on her financials and her old cases? Chasing down obvious threats first, I wanna focus on her routine outside of work also." He pounds the desk nearest to him. "Damn it" he throws at no one specific.
Her squad, along with the entire NYPD and all first responders in the Manhattan area and all her borrows, are on full alert for ANY similar information released by the Captain of this important victim. Manhunts are organized, roadblocks established. A reward is issued. News stories are supplied with information the police think might help catch these kidnappers, but not too much so they still have cards in their hand. Every effort is made to locate her.
