I cried out as a sharp pain flared from my foot, dragging me out of nightmares swimming with Steinman.

In each dream, he would bring his scalpel to my arm, and gradually press harder and harder until the blade was pushed into my skin. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't open my mouth. I looked frantically into his eyes, but his own eyes were not there. They had been replaced by eyes that were a piercing blue. Eyes that looked as cruel and cold as the harshest winter. The eyes belonged to the man with the flaming hand.

My gaze returned to the scalpel, only to see that the once glinting silver metal was now a bright, hot orange. I thrashed as he dragged the scalding knife down my arm, the blood that poured out sizzled from the heat and steam wafted from the cut. My skin burnt as he slit it, my body writhed, and all that I could make out was Steinman's echoing laughter.

I shivered, trying to chase the dreams away. My gunshot wound had woken me at least five times; but still when I fell asleep again I slipped into the same, repeating nightmare. My eyes felt heavy, sleep deprivation was taking its toll on me. My head started to lower to my chest and my eyes slowly closed; as I was pulled away I vaguely heard the echos of footsteps, but I was too far under to distinguish its place between dream and reality.

The chime of the lock brought me out of unconsciousness. My eyes slowly blinked open as I heard the sound of the gate sliding open, and as footsteps moved closer towards me I realized it must be Dewitt.

Dread drenched me like a bucket of ice water, fear settled in its familiar place in my chest. Not again, I pleaded silently, please not again.

I didn't lift my head, I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to see his grim, cold expression telling me that his doings were my fault. I closed my eyes, my body was quivering. I wouldn't look at him if I didn't have to.

I heard a small intake of breath and then the footsteps stopped before me.

I felt the tears waiting beneath my eyes, as despair tied my insides into so many knots it felt like I couldn't breathe.

Dewitt did not speak, but I could just make out his shallow breaths before me.

He's waiting for me to look at him, I thought. He's going to make me start this.

I opened my eyes slowly, my body was shaking now. Even my breaths quivered as my eyes slowly moved across the floor to where Dewitt stood.

But as I reached his spot in my cell the brown leather shoes of Dewitt where not standing before me. Long, slender black boots stood in their place.

I froze, confused. My eyes moved up from the ground, noticing first a long blue skirt, a white blouse, then a pale face I remembered very well.

It was her.

It was the girl who had stood beside the other Dewitt, the one who had opened the wall and showed me my dead body.

Her dark bobbed hair now hung down in waves past her shoulder, and her blue eyes that had once held a sad determination now were glossy and scared. A delicate hand covered her mouth as her eyes stared at the gash in my arm. The tears in her eyes glinted in the dim light.

I'm hallucinating, I thought. Or dreaming.

I could clearly remember her telling me she couldn't save me. I asked her to end my suffering and she turned her back on me and walked away.

So why would she come back?

"Oh my god..." The girl whispered, she sounded shocked and frightened.

She studied the rest of my arm, then tore her eyes away from the wound to look at the rest of my body. Her eyes moved over my face, and as she did she found my own eyes staring back at her. The girl's eyes widened, and she took a step back.

"You're awake." She said softly, almost as if she didn't believe it.

I looked down, trying to avoid the hole in my shoe. You think he'd have the mercy to let me die?

"You're not real." I told her quietly, my voice was choked with pain.

"Yes I am." The girl said gently. I shook my head, "No you're not," I closed my eyes again as my face contorted with fear and sorrow, "don't do this. I don't want to believe you. The water's gonna wake me up. And then Steinman will come and he-" my voice broke. "Don't make me hope, please." The girl's eyes were full of compassion, "I'm real, I promise. I can only promise you."

"Then why are you here?" I choked out.

The girl twisted her fingers together, "I couldn't get you out of my head... I- I left you here, in the mercy of him. The thought has been eating at me for days, I had to see what he'd done to you..." The girl's eyes filled with tears, "it's so much worse than what I expected."

It was my turn to glance at the wound in my arm, a yellow tint was now clearly visible around my wound, amongst the purpled skin.

I closed my eyes, trying to prevent the memories from replaying.

"Who did that to you?" She asked softly.

The thought startled me. I looked at her, "Don't you know?"

She shook her head, "No." she mumbled.

He's going to go through so much.

I shifted uncomfortably, inhaling sharply at the pain. "But... you told me that I'll never tell them. How did you know that?"

The girl searched my eyes, looking for a suitable answer. "Your timeline... it's been altered. This entire city's has been prolonged. Through the doors to different universes I see the past, you're always here, and you never tell. It's a constant. So I knew you wouldn't tell either."

I stared at the ground for a moment, letting her words sink in. I'm always here. I was bound to be captured. But then, wouldn't she know about Steinman if it's already happened? Unless...

"Does Dewitt torture me differently in each timeline?"

She seemed locked to my eyes, I suppose it was the only part of me that wasn't bruised or bloody.

"In every other dimension, you don't even know Dewitt's name."

My face flickered with confusion, "Then who is it?" I asked quietly, wondering why I wanted to know.

"Sullivan." She said, the words sounded forced, and her face was paler than before.

I remembered the other me, the one who hung dead, after being burnt alive.

In Steinman's place stood a man with black hair and blue eyes that were cold and unforgiving. He glared at me as he drew his hand of orange flames towards my arm.

But that wasn't Sullivan. That was someone else.

I looked back at her, "the... other me you saw, the one you went back to when you left. Who burned him?"

She began to twist her fingers together again, as if she didn't want to give me the answer. "Fontaine killed him."

My eyes widened, "Fontaine?" She nodded slowly, searching my eyes for my reaction.

My heart rate sped. The man with the flaming hand, how could that be him?

And yet I knew it was, the cruelty in his eyes were unmistakably the same, I had just been too blind to see it.

A sudden reality struck upon me, and I looked wildly to the girl. "Is he going to come for me?"

She twisted her fingers tighter. "I don't know."

Panic exploded in my chest, my breaths came in and out rapidly. I shook in my chains, a small sob escaped my throat. "Please!" I begged desperately, "Please don't let him hurt me."

Tears had filled her eyes at my outburst, her face was pained with sorrow. "Stop, Timmy, please. Please calm down. He's not going to hurt you."

I stared desperately at her, searching for the truth in her stare. "I felt it. I felt what it was like when Fontaine killed him. I can't do that again." Her eyes widened slightly, but her stare did not waver, "He won't, I promise."

"Please," I said again, "he burned me when... when Steinman came. I saw him. He melted the handcuffs onto my skin. I didn't even know what he wanted."

My eyes moved to my wrists, to check that it had all been a hallucination.

The girl followed my lead, she stared at my bloodied hands. "Those weren't you memories," she said softly, "and it's not going to happen to you."

I sagged in my chains, though my heart still pounded in my chest. I had no hope but to believe her, I so desperately wanted to.

"Who's Steinman?" She asked.

I shivered, staring intently at the stone below me. "My arm..." I mumbled, "he did that."

For a moment the girl was silent, then her voice came at almost a whisper, "Can I see?"

The thought brought a chill to my insides, "How?"

"I just need to touch your arm... it will help me focus on the part of the past I want to view," she looked earnestly at me, "can I?"

Your choice was the first thing Dewitt stripped you of.

I stared into her eyes, before I gave what was barely a nod.

She slowly lifted her pale and delicate hand from her side, and I saw the black latex gloves of Steinman reaching for my wound, ready to gouge his fingers into me. I struggled desperately, "Stop!" I screamed, the hand moved back, and suddenly it was the girl's hand again. I let my head fall to my chest, I'm going crazy. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "please- please don't touch me." My eyes moved slowly past the girl's feet to the crate beside her, and to the two audio diaries that leaned against it. "You..." my voice faltered as I stared at the device that held my screaming; I would have to remember it too. "you can listen to it. Just don't touch me, please."

"I'm sorry," she said desperately, her right hand was pressed against her chest; "I-I asked, I didn't mean to make you panic."

I took in a few deep breaths, nodding at her. The girl stood there silently for a moment as she turned towards the audio diaries. She looked at them, but didn't move. Her eyes moved between the two audio diaries, confusion arose in her face, but she didn't say anything. After another moment her voice came as quietly as possible, and she asked, "which one is it?"

I could see she hadn't wanted to, but that didn't mean dread didn't swirl up in my stomach again. This was too much, I couldn't even cover my ears. I had to listen to it.

"To your right." I mumbled, and looked down. I saw the girl crouch in front of them and reach her hand towards the button on the audio diary. It quivered slightly. I watched as her hand stopped before the button, the girl took a deep breath. I sucked in a breath too as her moment of hesitation ended and she pushed her hand forward.

The button clicked into place.

The light blinked.

The tapes whirled, and I heard my voice speaking from the box; "I can't tell you, I won't tell you... so get on with it."

The memory dug it's claws into me and pulled, I remembered Steinman stood to my left, his mouth curved into a smile as he listened to Dewitt and me. He listened but did not look, his eyes were transfixed to the wound on my arm, though he had only cut the framework of what he was going to do to me. There was longing in his gaze. Cruel longing.

Dewitt offered to let me go, but I refused, my defiance managing to ring clear despite the fear I knew gnawed at me. So Dewitt cut the nice act.

"I want to hear him scream."

I never would have said what I did if I knew what was going to come next.

The footsteps of Steinman played from the audio diary, as did the shifting of fabric, which could only be him removing his scalpel from his pocket. My body tensed, and I closed my eyes. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to listen.

The audio diary played all the same, I heard my soft groan of pain from when he wiped the blood away from my cuts. There was silence, I counted the seconds so that my chest would not explode with anxiety and anticipation.

One.

He stood inches from me.

Two.

He smiled.

Three.

My scream arose from the audio diary, a sharp cry of agony. The girl jumped. I shuddered. She could not see what had happened, but I remembered. The terrible pain as he dug his gloved thumb into my wound and pulled back the flesh.

I was shaking, I knew I wouldn't be able to block the trauma once my stream of screams started, once he started pulling.

I heard my moan of pain as Steinman pinched into my flesh, and then I started screaming.

The girl jumped again and her shaking hand covered her mouth as my agonized cries played from the audio diary, mixed with my sobs of pain. My hands clenched into fists at the terrible sounds, the pain had been unimaginable, and the sounds of my screaming made that very clear.

I remembered a blurred world, drowned in my tears. Everything was grey and dark, except for my arm, where all I could see was a dark red. I remembered knowing I was screaming, but not being able to hear it. Now that I could I didn't want to, my chest tightened with fear so much so that I felt light headed. He wouldn't stop pulling. I remembered his relentless cruelty. My breaths were rapid and heavy as I listened, my eyes found the girl as she moved her hand away from her mouth and towards the audio diary. As her fingers touched the box her eyes widened and glossed over, and I knew she was seeing it too.

My screaming continued, it pierced through me as I stared at the gash in my arm, remembering him being there. "Stay still." Dr. Steinman growled from the recording, I flinched and a small whimper escaped me as I heard my screams rise from the audio diary, dripping with agony.

He tugged and yanked on my flesh, the blood was clear in my memory. Pouring from my arm, spitting as my skin broke away from my flesh.

I heard the clank of my chains as I fell back down into my handcuffs, after he had stopped violently wrenching at my skin. I remembered seeing how long the gash had become, and the pain and horrors overwhelmed me.

I closed my eyes and turned my head away at the sound of my vomiting, I gagged slightly myself.

My whole body was shaking violently, I found it difficult to breathe.

I could almost feel it, the pain as he continued to rip the skin off of me. My sobs and screams blended together into a sound that sent chills down my spine, my arm throbbed and the nerves in my wound spiked at the memory.

I don't want to listen anymore.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, praying to hear the tape whirl to an end.

But my screaming wouldn't quiet, it pounded through my eardrums and ran along my shaking figure, stabbing at my brain till I wanted to scream back. I was having a panic attack. I was terrified, but then I was angry. I was angry at the girl. It was her fault, I went through that because of her, and she's making me remember it again. Why can't she just leave me alone? Why the hell is she here?

My fury swirled up, pulsing through my quivering body. I let it flow through me, and even though my screams echoed in my ears and I heard the sharp voice of Dewitt saying stop when it was far from over; I wouldn't let her drag me down into the depths of fear. I wouldn't let her reduce me to a quivering and terrified victim that I had become time and time again. She was no different from Dewitt, only she had no motive, she was torturing me mentally for fun.

I looked at her, seething.

From the audio diary, Dewitt shouted Steinman's name, a final warning, and Steinman stopped pulling. I remembered the feel of the wet strip of skin dangling against my arm and fear rose up in my chest again. I focused on my anger, letting it drown my fear; she will not do this to me.

"You with us Timmy? Do we need Steinman to wake you up?"

She came here to see how weak I was, all she wants is to see how well she broke me.

My body slowly stopped quivering.

The girl gasped slightly and her hand shot out as she pressed the red button on the audio diary, stopping the tape.

I could not mask the relief that rushed through me when I knew I wouldn't have to relive any more traumatic memories.

I looked at the girl for her reaction, had she been closer, I'm sure I would have seen contempt in her eyes.

I stared at her as she stayed in her crouched position, frozen in place as she stared at the audio diary. There was a line where a tear had run down her face, I watched as another tear fell from her eye and trailed down the path. Her jaw quivered slightly.

Like you fucking care.

She shook her head slightly "I- I can't listen to anymore."

Anger flared up inside me, "What did you say?" I asked quietly.

The girl stood up and turned to me, her eyes were glossy and her face was full of sorrow. "He just stood there while that man, that man did something horrific and cruel to you. The blood and his smile and your screams..." the girl shuddered, "I don't want to watch anymore."

Fury coursed through my veins, "I didn't get a choice!" I screamed at her. She stepped back, her face pained and fearful.

"Dewitt didn't let me choose. I had to go through all of it. I had to take it all."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, she sounded so guilt-ridden.

"No you don't get it!" I shouted, "they tortured me, and it was your fault. It was your fault! They tortured me because of you!"

The girl looked at me again, her expression shocked and confused.

"Why did you come here the first time? To help me? Well your Dewitt was right. He found out. He found the clamps lying on the floor when he hadn't put them there. He thought you were with Fontaine." I swallowed. "He wanted your names. I don't even know your goddamn name. Not that he would believe me." The girl's face was twisted with misery.

"I had to take that for you! You made me go through that!" My body quivered with anger, "I was cut and electrocuted and-" my hands and feet clenched as my voice rose, and I cried out as a jolting pain shot through me from the gunshot wound. My head fell to my chest and I whimpered as the painful throbbing in my foot increased. I breathed hard, clenching my teeth against the pain, I have to stop doing that.

"What's wrong?" The girl asked, closer now. She must have rushed towards me when I had shouted.

Her eyes searched me for the source of my pain, "Timmy, are you alright?"

I didn't respond, only moaned in pain, I had upset the wound, and the waves and throbbing had become overwhelming. "What is it?" She asked, her eyes were full of worry and concern. "My foot." I mumbled. The girl looked into my eyes, I saw her fear, "What did he do to you?"

"He shot me." My voice came out almost at a whisper.

Her eyes went wide, "Oh my god." She breathed.

He eyes moved to my feet, and her body froze when she saw the hole in my shoe.

She dropped to her knees. "Jesus." I let my head drop to my chest, "It hurts..." I whispered. The girl stared at the hole coated in dried blood, her hand reached up, as if to touch my foot, then her fingers curled into a fist and she lowered her arm. "Timmy, I- I'm so sorry." Her voice caught, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." I closed my eyes to block the memories that had come crawling up to the surface. "Please help me." I mumbled. I opened my eyes as the girl looked up at me, she took in a breath then nodded, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "It needs to be treated."

She stood up briskly, then slowly turned around, her eyes moving to every corner and edge of the room. I followed her eyes, and as I watched the spots became grainy as she looked at them. My eyes widened in surprise. She turned past me and looked to the crate, in the clearer light I saw that its corner had been rimmed in a purple-ish circle, and within it the edge had been blurred by the graininess. I could just make out the rectangular tin that rested on the crate. "There." The girl whispered, she opened her fist and the purple rim shrunk then exploded open, white light flared from the crack. The purple rim had returned to its size and pulsed vibrantly. The part of the crate within it was now clear; a first aid kit laid on the edge. "What did you do?" I croaked, staring wide eyed at the object that had appeared out of nowhere. "I opened a tear." She said, she moved closer and slowly reached for the first aid kit. In the light of the tear I saw the thimble that covered her right pinky. The girl grabbed the first aid kit from the crate and the purple ring shrunk again and disappeared. "A tear?" I asked, staring at the first aid kit. "A doorway to different universes. Like the one with the body." The girl said as she crouched down on her knees. I swallowed and nodded, remembering my bruised, bloody face that hung limp and lifeless. "Sometimes I can reach through and grab things." She added, gesturing to the first aid kit.

The girl placed it on the ground beside her, flicked the latches open, and lifted the lid. She sifted through the contents, pulling out bandages, a small packet of wipes, a bottle of clear liquid, and a cloth. She placed them beside the kit. She turned back to me and paused, she began to wring her hands nervously. "Timmy," she said, looking up at me, "I'm going to have to remove your shoe, and it's probably going to hurt." Fear swirled in my chest, my breath caught as the girl gently grabbed the heel of my shoe. "Please don't." I pleaded, I didn't want this anymore. "It needs to be treated," she insisted, "the wound will only get worse."

"I don't care, please... I don't want any more pain." My voice wavered and my body began to tremble.

"The wound could get infected, if it isn't already, and you can't afford to lose anymore blood. I need to take your shoe off if I am to clean and wrap it." She still hadn't let go of my heel. "It doesn't matter. I don't want it. Please- please, don't hurt me." I begged, fear pulsed inside me now. The girl froze, her eyes staring off behind me. After a moment she lowered her hands to her lap, they quivered slightly. "Please don't talk to me as if I were Dewitt." The girl whispered. "I am not like him. I am not trying to hurt you, I am trying to help you. Please don't twist my intentions Timmy."

She stared at me earnestly, but the fear in my chest remained. I searched for a reason why, because I knew I could trust her; she was willing to help me. I trusted her, but still I feared her, and as I stared at her face I knew why. It was because she did remind me of Dewitt, despite the opposite scenarios. It was her eyes, they had the same blazing determination, I could see it, hidden behind the pity with which she looked at me. I shuddered. "You use my name like Dewitt." I told her, which I realized bothered me as I said it. The girl blinked, her eyes darted back to the audio diary, "I- I didn't mean to, Dewitt said it, so-" she stopped speaking as she realized how she sounded. The girl looked down, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have. What can I call you?" I didn't speak for a moment, I forgot what it was like to be treated as if I had any say in the matter. "Timmy is fine, don't- don't worry about it." I mumbled. The girl nodded solemnly, "Thank you, I'm Elizabeth." I nodded in return, looking away. The girl- Elizabeth- didn't speak for a moment, but then her soft voice broke through the silence; "I want to help you, but I can't unless I take your shoe off." I closed my eyes, dread sparked inside me. Elizabeth continued, "it will only hurt for a moment, but I won't do it until you agree."

She's giving me a choice.

I repeated the thought, trying to work up the courage to let her. I knew she was right, the wound was only going to hurt more over time, she's was going to help.

I just didn't want the pain. I was terrified.

"Please Timmy," Elizabeth pressed gently, "you need help."

My breathing was shaky as I drew in deep inhales and let out deep exhales, trying to quiet my fear. She wants to help me, not hurt me. I closed my eyes and sucked in one last deep breath before I opened my eyes and looked to Elizabeth. "Okay," I mumbled quietly, "do it."