Heya! Ok, so here it is! And don't worry. Traitie is on it's way I PROMISE! :)

-J.J.

R&R

Chapter 10: Dreaming About Her

KATIE POV:

My Prius whirls around the curb as I approach the park. My knuckles are white with tension as I turn the lights off and drift silently into the lot. Another car sits near the trail.

Oh, Liz.

I shudder as I open the door, the cold air freezing the sweat on my back. I rush to the other vehicle, my heels crunching on the gravel. A wave of alcohol and marijuana fills my nostrils and I gag in disgust. Nevertheless, I peer inside and knock on the trunk. "Lizzie?"

No reply. So they've taken her to the rock already. I swallow back the bile and slipped off my shoes, wincing at the rough pebbles beneath my feet. I would need to hurry. I pulled out my phone and called 9-1-1. While it rang, I ran along the soft grass, sprinting beside the trail. I had no weapon, no plan and no power. I was going to have to be stealthy.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

"Hi ma'am." I huffed/whispered, trying to keep my voice calm. "My friend's missing. We were at a party and I-" My voice broke. I cleared my throat and slowed my pace. "I think they might hurt her."

"Who are they?"

"They-"

A loud scream shatters the silence. Someone curses.

"Miss?"

"Come quickly." I turn my phone off and sprint forwards, trying to be as quiet as possible. The soft grass tickles my toes as I approach the dirt trail. The shouts and curses grow louder. I stop halfway there and take a smaller path to the other side. A familiar tingling sensation rushes through me as I weave through the trees, pushing forwards with every stride. Soon, I'm close enough to make bits and pieces of their conversation.

"You think it's the right girl?" A timid voice mumbles. Male, I think to myself. Deep voice. He's probably a senior in high school.

My sprint slows to a jog as I watch my footing, stepping only on weeds and large roots.

"Of course it is. Why the hell wouldn't it be?" Also male. I can't decide how old he is.

"I don't know. There were a lot of people, Max."

There is a long pause. I freeze. "Are you saying what I think your saying?"

Another pause. I slowly creep forwards gripping the narrow trees for support. Three figures start to come into view. "Well…"

"Are you fucking serious? You little shit!" There's a loud smack and I nearly slip. I grasp a tree branch and bite my lip to keep me from shouting. "You said that you found her!"

"I-I did. I-it's just-"

"-Just what? The wrong fucking girl!"

I can see them clearly now. There's a lanky tall guy who looks like he's in college. His sickly frame is covered by a worn and stained denim jacket and black basketball shorts. Gross scabs and scars mark the inside of his arms. This one's a druggie.

Opposite of him stood a larger boy, slightly on the chubby side, with a navy football letterman jacket and scruffy jeans. On his face, a large red mark stained his left cheek. Under his breath, I hear him mutter. "We can go back to the party. I saw her, I did. There were two of them."

A chill runs down my spine. Us? I wonder. Is he talking about us?

The man shouts back angrily, spitting out his words. "WE HAVE NO TIME." He fidgets with his hands. "The town police are suspicious. They're not blind."

So they've done this before? I shiver and feel my nose crinkle. Another bug crawls over my toes and I silently begin to move.

Where are you Liz?

I look around at the dimly lit space, searching for her frizzy red hair.

When I spot her, I nearly scream in terror. The usually jovial girl is slumped on the ground with her hands cuffed to a post on the park map board. Her tear stricken face is red and swollen.

They hit her. My blood begins to boil and the tingling in my stomach rushes to my head. Breathe Katie. I thought to myself. You're her best chance.

The lanky guy points a shaky finger at the boy. "Do you know how much trouble you have caused us? I can't believe I thought I could trust you!"

Something coils around my finger. Ugh, goddamn bugs. I brush it off quickly, and then wince at the flicking noise, but the three of then are oblivious to my presence. I slowly start to creep around them, trying to get to my Lizzie.

Druggie speaks again. "I knew it. I knew I shouldn't have trusted some high school amateur." He begins to pace, slashing at tree branches before walking right up to the football player, grabbing him by the collar. "You know what she'll do to me now? DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE'LL TO US?"

She? I think to myself quietly. She must be one twisted bitch to hire these fools.

The man shoves the boy back roughly but not hard enough. The boy bumps back, stalking angrily towards his older companion. "What do you mean she? You said-"

The addict pushes the boy away and snarls. "I say a lot of things. That doesn't always make them true."

A soft whimper interrupts their bickering. "Stop."

No Liz. Don't speak.

But I can't say anything. I can't do anything except watch the crap that she was about to take.

The druggie, Max I guess, turns towards her, his face contorting in a sick smile. "Don't worry sweetheart." He kneels down beside her and holds her face. My hands clench. She flinches from his touch. "I'll take very good care of you."

Something ticks inside of me but before I can move closer to Liz, he takes something out of his jean jacket. "But, there's something I have to take care of first." A slick black metal object clicks in his hands. A gun. He rises and points it slowly towards the boy. My heart rate quickens. He wouldn't.

Liz screams and the trembling boy holds up his hands. "Max, you wouldn't."

"NO, DON'T DO IT! DON'T-" My best friend is hysterical, pulling against her restraints but to no avail. Every muscle in my body is tense. I begin to edge away from her.

The man turns around and slaps her with the back of his gun. "SHUT UP!"

Another tick. I feel like I'm going to be sick. The bugs are everywhere, brushing my ears and brushing my shoulders. I creep towards the other end of the space.

Max rises and begins to walk closer to the boy. "You are pathetic. How stupid are you?" He wraps his fingers around the gun carefully, staring menacingly at his prey. "Did you really think I was going to pay you, at all?" He cackles as he finally reaches the boy, placing the gun directly onto the kid's sweaty forehead. "So naïve. It's a shame, really. You would have made a great football player. A scholarship to Penn State I hear?"

Tears stream down the boys face. "P-p-please."

I'm so close to the two of them, I can almost smell the alcohol on their breaths. I bend my legs, getting ready to pounce.

The college boy gives a sinister smile. "Thanks but your services will no longer be necessary."

Then things just get weird.

The scene in front of me blurs. An inky darkness floods the greenery and swallows all the broken pieces of my haunting memory. Lizzie's screams, the druggie's threats- it all fades away. I look at the ground and watch as the soft dirt and tentacle-like weeds disappear. An ominous feeling rushes through me. This can't be good.

Usually, the dream, or memory, would end with the scream, the gunshot or the police siren. I would remember me huddled in the corner of a police car, shivering and muttering some incoherent nonsense.

Then I would wake up and it would all be over. Or, at least until the next night.

This isn't supposed to happen.

I waited patiently for the scene to change. To see my bloodshot eyes, my torn black mini dress and my raw, cut feet. To see the officer telling my father what happened, and to see his mournful sympathetic stare burning through the car window.

I stare at the black walls of emptiness, waiting for something, anything to happen. A cold chill runs along my spine. I rub my arms subconsciously, feeling the goose bumps along them. Where am I?

"You are dreaming, dear."

My shoulders tense as I flinch at that voice. I know that voice. But a face doesn't come to me. I dig my nails into my palms and clench my fists to keep them from trembling. "W-who are you?"

The voice laughs darkly. Female, I think to myself. Doesn't sound very old.

A drop of sweat falls down my back as she replies. "Oh Katie. Such beauty, such grace." Something brushes my face and it takes everything in me to not recoil in disgust. "Such strength, bravery," Something whizzes past my ear. I feel cold air slam against my face, blowing my hair everywhere. My legs tremble. "So pure hearted, so generous."

"Stop." I feel my lips move, but no sound comes out of my mouth. The wind is so loud I can barely hear my own voice.

The speaker continues. "Tell me, dearie," I squeeze my eyes shut as a something sharp nicks my lower calf, "do you get your looks from your father or your mother?"

"STOP!" I scream, my hands over my ears, my upper half hinged over. The room goes quiet. The wind dies down and a palpable tension fills the air.

"Stop?" I hear the voice murmur questioningly. "Is this too much for you? Are you scared Katie? Are you-"

"I said stop." I could feel my face getting hot. My fingers were cramping I was clenching my hands so much.

There was a long pause before I heard an impatient sigh. "Very well." Suddenly, the harsh sounds of rusted metal grinding filled my ears. I winced slightly, searching for its source. As the metallic cacophony continues, I hear the voice call out. "It's a shame really."

God, this woman is getting on my nerves. "What is?"

She continues, her voice oozing with false pity and disappointment. "I had hoped you would have asked me further questions for, well, you and your father's sake but," She pauses and I can almost hear her smirking, "Alas. C'est la vie!"

Dad?

"What?"

"Although, honestly, I believe this way it will be just as fun. At least for me that is."

Her loud cackle makes my blood freeze. My stomach twists and my heart pounds against my chest. "What do you mean? Wait!"

"Ta-ta ma Cherie!"

A thousand questions blur through my mind. Who was she? How did she know what I was going to say? What does she mean 'for you and your father's sake'?

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?

I want to scream. I want to tear my hair out and flip tables. But most importantly, I want answers. And I had a feeling I knew exactly where to find them.

A loud creak interrupts my thoughts as I turn to see a mahogany colored door slightly ajar, just a few meters away. Metal locks and gears adorn its wooden frame as light pools in from the small crack and its outline.

I sigh as I walk towards it, my hands reaching for the handle. Hear we go.

Back to Camp.

Back to home.