*evil laughter* NO SCHOOL TOMORROW! Ha ha ha! I'm all high on no school and these white fudge pretzls mom got me from No Frill's and so here we go with another chapter! HAPPY READING!

Man, it was hot. I thought I was back on the helicopter. I groaned in my sleep and tried to roll over. What I met was air, and pain. I hissed and my eyes snapped open. It was blurry at first, but it soon came into focus.

We were in a round, stone chamber. I must've been in the middle, because I couldn't see the other side behind me. There were people in robes surrounding the center.

I struggled against my bonds. Man, my arms hurt. I looked up, and I saw why. I was hanging from the ceiling by my wrists, bound in chains. I wiggled my arms, trying to see if I had any give. Too bad - iron manicles didn't have any give.

I swung my legs out, and saw that I couldn't reach the ground. It might have been comical, seeing me swing my legs around like that, but all I achieved was a more powerful shoulder ache.

"Hey, who put me here?!?!" I shouted at the robed figures. In the darkness, I couldn't make out anything about them. I tried to turn to see if anyone was behind me, but the chains were fixed - I couldn't move. I was a sitting fucking duck.

I heard a faint, but familiar, chitter, and I tried again in vain to turn my head. "Greg?" I called. "Daimio? Where you guys at?"

I heard a groan, and I knew that was Daimio. "Guys, hold on!" I shouted. "I'm coming!"

I twisted the chains, only harder. Then I had a big DUH moment.

I tried to shock the chains, but I discovered something that made my blood run cold.

The chains actually dampened my powers.

"Crap crap triple crap damn shit FUCK!" I shouted, my voice growing louder.

One of the robed figures stepped forward and lowered her hood. Her hair was flaming red, and her skin was as pale as snow. Her eyes shown with green fire, and she grinned at me.

"Such foul language from a such a small girl," she practically purred, walking around me in circles. I didn't try to turn to watch her - I already knew the chains wouldn't move.

The woman came back into my ine of view, and tilted her head at me while she gave me an all-over stare-down. It was fucking creepy - like I was a piece of meat.

"You're perfect!" she said breathlessly, and the robed people let out a holler.

"For what?!?!" I asked, confused.

"We've been looking for the perfect sacrifice to our goddess," the woman said, walking around me again. "One who was of our blood, but not our coven. One who had the Gift. One who was fearless, strong of will and heart, one . . . just like you."

I glared at her, and snarled, "I swear to God-"

She backhanded me. I was shocked for a second, but I recovered quickly, moving my jaw and tasting blood in my mouth.

"You will not speak the name of your ill-fated Savior in my home," she said acidly.

"Bitch," I muttered, then spoke up, "So, you guys are gonna sacrifice me?"

"Yes," she nodded, smiling. "We're going to drain your body of blood, and when your body is dry, out goddess is going to take your body for hers."

I paused, chosing my words cafefully: "That is . . . the biggest . . . piece if crap . . . I've ever heard!"

"You'll be singing a different tune once our blades have kissed your skin," she said slyly, and with a wave of her hand, my body spun to face the other way.

Shit.

"But why should we have all the fun?" she asked innocently. "Especially since I know your friends would want to see this."

Daimo had been chained to the wall, and there was a break in the circle of robed figures so I could see him . . . and he could see me. And next to him, in the most demeaning way, was a mini-Greg, stuck in a pickle jar. It made me want to cry. But there was no way for either of them to get out.

Shit again.

"And we are going to have some fun," she hissed, and pulled this wicked and crooked blade out of her robe. I paled at the sight of it. "But first, we need to get rid of this hideous clothing." She stuck the edge of the knife into my shirt and ripped down.

"BITCH THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHIRTS!" I shouted.

"Go ahead and scream," she said, slicing up my shirt, "You'll scream much more before we're through with you."

I swore to myself that I wouldn't scream, no matter how much the cuts hurt. No way - not if it brought this bitch joy. She can kiss my ass.

One more slice, and my shirt fell away, leaving my upper torso bare, except for my bra. Then she went to work on my pants. She had a harder time on the denim than the cotten, and I made sure to get my kicks in.

"What, you got some kinky tying-up/cutting-clothes-away fetish?" I snarled. "Cause I'm sure there are more willing people here, bitch. You suck. I can't believe that you're having fun taking off my pants. Fucking bastard."

I shivered in the cold of the chamber, and closed my eyes. I'm not here . . .I'm not here . . . I'm ANYWHERE but here . . . please God, don't let Greg or Daimio get hurt . . . let them get away . . .

"What about my friends?" I asked quietly.

"Once we get through with you, the man's next," she said slyly. "Another bloody sacrifice for our lovely goddess. And the bug . . . . we'll squish him, like the roach he is."

I kept my eyes closed. I did nothing as I felt the knife bit my skin. A long, deep, slice right down my leg. I gripped the chains and grit my teeth. I refused to scream.

Another slice. And another. And another.

I refused to scream, and to open my eyes. I didn't want to see their faces. It was bad enough to hear their screams. Greg's were incoherent - just clicks and squeals that I could barely hear and couldn't decipher. But Daimio was vocal enough for the both of them.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFFA HER, YA CRAZY BITCH! STOP! I SWEAR TO WHATEVER FUCKING GODDESS YOU BELIEVE IN THAT IF YOU CUT HER AGAIN I'LL KICK YOUR ASS SO HARD YOU'LL SLEEP STANDING UP FOR A YEAR!"

Heh, he took that one from me.

After an hour of hearing him scream for me, I opened my eyes and glared at him.

"Stop screaming," I said coldly. "It's what she wants - screams. Scream, and you give her satisfaction. Please, just stop."

I could hear the defeat in my voice - I bet he could, too. He gazed at with such . . . such disappointment, I had to look away.

The torture went on for hours. I was getting woozy from blood loss. My blood was pooling on the floor. Ew - but I bet it'd be funny if that bitch slipped in it.

"Marvelous," she said, making another slice. "I've never seen someone hold out for so long. You are a strong one."

"Shut the fuck up," I slurred. I opened my eyes and tried to focus so I could at least spit in her face, but it was hard to. That's when it hit me.

I wasn't going to pull through this one.

"Guys . . . don't let her take my iPod . . . ." I muttered, but then my eyes snapped open.

"BITCH, MY IPOD WAS IN THOSE PANTS!" I shouted, struggling against the chains. "AND YOU LET THEM FALL ON THE BLOODY FLOOR!"

With a roar, I reached for the powers I knew would be denied me. I reached out and kicked the bitch square in her face. She fell, and I continued to thrash and kick, trying to get free. My limbs were beginning to get heavy. I stopped, panting and considered what to do next. I swung on the chain. I remembered that Daimio still had his locater belt on him.

"DAIMIO! PRESS THE BUTTON!" I shouted. "PRESS THE GODDAMNED BUTTON!"

I gasped as I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I looked down . . . . to find the wicked dagger sticking out of my gut.

"Craaaaaaaaaaap . . . . . "

Man, I do get tired of passing out. It sucks - majorly. But this time, I was't sure if I was going to wake up. But I did. I was on a grassy hill, staring up into the cloudless blue sky. It felt nice. Up in the mountains, it's not this nice 'n sunny, so it was a big change for me. I shifted around a little bit - yep, I was wearing clothes again.

I sat up, and looked around. Rolling, grassy hills as far as I could see. Looking down at my feet, I realized I was back in my white hippy clothes - all baggy, and nothing like what I normally wore.

"This is bad, Jink."

I turned around to see Roger sitting close by. I crawled over to him and leaned on his arm.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey Roger," I sighed. "What's bad?"

"You being here."

"Why?"

"That means you're dead, Jink."

Well, this was news to me.

"Well, there's a change in pace," I shrugged. "I thought it was a Heaven-or-hell type of deal."

"Well, I didn't go to those places," Roger pointed out. "Maybe you're like me."

"What - a homunculus? I think I would have figured that out by now."

"No - man made, or made by someone who wasn't God."

"Thanks, Roger," I said dryly. "So, I'm dead. Joy. What now?"

"I don't know," Roger shrugged.

"Well . . . . I'm gonna take a nap," I decided, and laid down and closed my eyes.

"Jink? Jink, c'mon, girl, wake up!"

I moaned and shifted - I was too tired.

"I don't care HOW tired you are - WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Mooooooo . . . . I didn't wanna. I swatted out at the voice, wishing it would shut up.

"If you don't wake up, I'll . . . . I'll . . ."

My voice was barely a whisper: "Continue to grasp at straws?"

"Jink, thank God . . ."

I faded in and out of life and consciousness. Things came in framents, merely images that made no sense. One moment I was in the Lil' Basement O' Horror, and the next I was in a stretcher.

Then I remembered the faces. They were nothing but shadows against the light, but I felt scared. I flipped my arm out and grabbed onto something. Only when the something I grabbed squeezed my hand did I realize that I had grabbed someone's hand.

"Don't leave . . . ." I had whispered, and poured all my focus into keeping my hold on the hand. But it didn't matter - I lost myself in the dark again.

Okay, so sorry if the chapter sucks majorly - I was writing on a high, and that gets pretty ugly. Zipper's the one that suggested that the witches shrink Greg, so YEAH FOR HER!

Man, I look at what you guys write, and I feel so . . . . inadequate compared to you all. Keep writing good, people - the world needs writers and readers like you.

~Izzy, who wears pants