A/N:So, due to popular demand here is the sequel to the fic "Hostel:The Vacation." But, before you begin reading I've decided I should put a warning on this one because last time, my inbox got bombarded by PMs from flamers who didn't have the balls to post their flame as a review saying that my fic was too violent and supported violence against women. Okay... so just for them I've provided a warning, which explains in no uncertain terms what you can expect from this.

Warning:This fic includes sex, violence/blood/gore (you get the point), rape, swearing and random spelling/grammar errors. If any of these bother you DO NOT READ! I cannot make myself more clear about this, people.

Now that I'm done with that... enjoy. :)

Paxton's nude body dangled from a rope tied off to the heavy basement pipes.

His wrists were bound together by old rusty handcuffs, resting on a large shiny sports fisherman's hook, and his feet a mere few inches off the cement floor.

Paxton's eyes started to open. He tried to focus through his blurry haze, but he finds it difficult with pain tearing through his head.

He looked around the tiny torture cell and saw a long table of demented weaponry. Immediately he began tugging at his chains praying against all odds he'd be able to escape, but only managed to worsen the various cuts and bruises already on his wrist.

Suddenly he heard the door behind him open and that's when the fear began setting in.

Due to the dark lighting, he couldn't make out the figure that was approaching the table of weapons, sweeping her gloved hand across the various instruments of torture. She wrapped her small hand around a pair of bolt cutters and glanced back at Paxton who, at this point was on the verge of tears.

She turned around to face him, her cold icy blue eyes staring into his. The woman stepped forward, the harsh yellow light shining directly over her face revealing her identity.

Paxton's eyes widened and his heart sank as he stared pitifully into the eyes of the girl who he once believed he loved. Sophie.

She snapped the bolt cutters, no more than an inch away from his face, causing him to emit a frightened cry. This seemed to amuse her. He could see her thin lips curve into a dark smile. She chuckled and reopened the tool, this time wrapping it around his dangling penis.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" She hissed malevolently as she began squeezing the bolt cutters and twisting them at the same time.

Paxton shrieked in complete agony as the red head twisted the organ, and just as it began to tear...

--

Panting and drenched in a cold sweat Paxton bolted upright, emitting a fearful cry.

"Fucking Christ," he whispered to himself under his breath.

Stephanie, his bitchy girlfriend, slowly began to open her eyes, looking at Paxton who had a look of pure terror in his eyes. "Another nightmare?" She mumbled tiredly.

Paxton looked back at her and nodded. The blond groaned, then sat up. "Why don't you talk to someone about this?" Pax, really hated it when she tried to become involved. "I can't talk to someone!" he retorted.

"You can't go to the fucking police?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"No!"

"Why not?! Something has to be done about this! And when are you gonna tell Josh's mother what happened? Or, are you gonna let her think her son's in Europe forever?"

"Right, I'm going to go to her and tell her that her son was tortured by some homo Dutchman who happened to have a fetish for him, escaped, then got brought back and killed by some blond whore. Look, these people are tied into everyone! I tell her and she'll go to the police, then the police will go investigate and I'll be fucked!"

"Paxton. It's just -- I can't sleep at night."

Pax glared at Stephanie before walking out. "Oh, you won't have to worry about it anymore." He shut the door behind him and Stephanie fell back into her pillow and sighed.

Ever since Paxton's little 'Vacation From Hell', he hadn't been the same. He was much easier to snap at people and be fearful or untrusting of them. Especially since someone like Sophie, someone he actually believe he loved, betrayed him and tried to drug him with god knows what and give him over to those bastards at Elite Hunting. It didn't help that Stephanie was constantly trying to get him to see a psychiatrist, either.

It was weird almost frightening to live life every day, fearing that someone was going to come find you and take you back to what could be considered a living hell. Not knowing what was going to happen to you.

--

The red headed girl sat on the white cotton sheet, awaiting her release. It had been a whole year since she had been allowed outdoors without supervision. Her silky hair lay about mid-back, pencil straight. Her cold eyes glared at the door, her captor for all those years. Finally it opened. A tall woman entered, holding a pair of jeans, black converse and a black sweater.

"Miss," The woman smiled, "You may leave now," Gracefully, the young woman stood up from the cotton sheet and grabbed the clothing to replace her white garb.Quickly, she pulled on the familiar clothing, almost certainly from her home.

"Thank you," She muttered curtly, as she exited the building that held memories of her first and only love. She reached into her pocket to pull out her chapstick and instead found a small index card reading.

Elite Hunting:

5000 Rsn.

10000 Eur.

25000 Amr.

She smiled, staring at the almost illegible e-mail adress scribbled in the corner.

"Bye bye Paxton," She whispered, laughing cruelly.