"... And with that, brothers and sisters, we wish you a blessed night." Sarah said as she stepped off the podium, letting a slight sigh escape her mouth. At two in the morning, the mission had finished their monthly midnight prayer meeting, and to her delight and relief had attracted quite a crowd. Nicely and her had spent the week preaching outside of Mindy's, him spinning tales of his visions of Heaven and Hell to enraptured patrons and her passing our fliers to anyone who would take one. She'd recognized a few, giving them a friendly smile as they took their seats.

Now, the twenty-six year old watched as the mission slowly emptied, the visitors entering the cool November night with pamphlets and complimentary coffee in hand. "I'd say that went well," she said, turning to her coworkers. Her uncle had sat at her desk, face in hand and dozing, while the other five had either also taken a seat or were leaning against the walls, struggling to keep their eyes open. Sarah pursed her lips, taking in the sight, before speaking again. "But I'm guessing all of you would rather head home than listen to me."

Arvide was the first to have his eyes snap open, blinking hard, while the rest of the group also stirred. "Oh, ," the old man started, s "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd drifted off."

"It's alright. I know this is a late night," she said, waving her hand and rubbing at her eyes. Sarah was exhausted herself, and looking forward to the day off they all had scheduled for tomorrow; Sky had told her before he'd also scheduled a vacation day, and had a surprise planned for her. She smiled slightly at the memory before removing her hand and looking back at the group. "You're all free to start heading home, I can lock up."

"Are you sure, Miss Sarah?" Nicely asked from his spot on the wall. "It is awfully late, maybe one of us should stay until you get a cab."

"Don't worry about it," Sarah reassured. "I closed up all the time back in Boston, and I've done it plenty here. Go home and rest." She started picking up leftover pamphlets, shuffling them on the desk and pulling the drawer open to store them away. The other missionary workers didn't put up a fight; arguing with Sarah when you had full energy was already a challenge. Trying when you were exhausted was doomed to fail.

Arvide approached Sarah as she was clearing out the leftover food, pulling his coat over. "You're sure you don't want me to wait?" he asked. "It isn't a hassle at all."

"Uncle Arvide, I promise I'll be fine." She gave her uncle a tired smile as she tossed the remaining donuts into the garbage; grabbing the coffee pot and the trash bag, she headed to the back of the building to toss it in the dumpster. When she headed inside, locking the back door and grabbing her own coat, the mission was silent. She begun making mental notes of what to bring when she came back to work in a few days, flipping the lights off, when suddenly;

"Sister Sarah?"

Sarah jumped - she didn't spook easily, not after living in big cities for most of her adult life, but she'd truly thought she was alone - and whipped around to see a stocky, balding man, dressed in a checkered blue sports jacket and smooth white pants leaning against her desk. Her hazel eyes met his dark brown ones as she approached, hands tightly gripping the keys. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"I just wanted to speak to you after the meeting," he said, voice low and gravelly. "You spoke so nicely, and I just wanted to thank you. Ask a couple of questions."

Sarah pursed her lips, not wanting to turn a potential convert away but feeling her eyes get heavier the longer she was awake. "What kind of questions?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound more alert.

"Ah, just about God's views on redemption." He tapped his fingers on her desk, still intently staring at her. "I've had some… problems, we'll say, in the past, and wanted to ask your opinion on it."

"Did you not see the pamphlets we were handing out, Mr….?"

"Wilson. Stanley Wilson." He held a plump hand out and she took it, noticing how strong his grip was. "And I didn't get one, and I heard all of you talking, so I didn't want to be a bother."

It took all of Sarah's willpower to not say he was bothering her by keeping her awake. She swallowed a sigh and tried to stay professional, mentally reminding herself of all the times Jesus and his followers had been struggling and still welcomed new believers, and let go of his hand to get him a pamphlet from the drawer. "I would usually love to discuss this with you," she said, grabbing the first few she saw, "but it's quite late. Would you mind waiting until Tuesday?" She handed him the papers, turning her back and heading towards the door; the sound of footsteps followed behind her, and Sarah assumed he understood and would leave and let her lock the door.

Until she felt cold steel pointing into her back.

Her body froze as Stanley's voice came from behind. "Don't move," he instructed, "and you won't get hurt."

"What do you want with me?" Sarah's body was shaking now, her hands so unsteady she dropped the keys on her feet, and she scanned outside, begging for someone, anyone, to be passing by, but the streets were deserted. "If-if it's money, we don't have a lot here, but I can -"

Stanley snorted. "You don't get off that easy, doll. Go where I tell you to or you'll regret it." Tears pricked in her eyes but Sarah complied, keeping her hands free as Stanley used the gun to guide her out of the mission. Her stomach churned as she thought of screaming, begging anyone who lived nearby to call the police, but Stanley continued to push his weapon further into her back; she knew it wasn't smart.

They walked only for a few moments before turning in an alleyway where a station wagon was parked and running. Suddenly the gun wasn't in her back but Stanley's hand was in her hair, forcing her head down as he opened the back door; a moment later he was pushing her down to the car's floor and sliding inside. "Drive," he commanded whoever was in front, slamming the door behind him. Sarah tried to move but found a boot on her head, keeping her low to the ground.

Carpet rubbed against her cheek as the car started to move, and the tears began to fall. Sarah couldn't imagine what Stanley wanted with her; she'd never seen him around the mission before today, let alone spoken to him. Her mind raced, trying to think of anyone who would hate her enough to do this, but no names came.

In her desperation, Sarah started to pray. Please, God, she thought, as Stanley moved her head with his foot and pushed her mouth into the carpet, please get me out of here.

Sarah didn't know how long they drove for, only that it felt like an eternity. Her exhaustion had nearly pulled her into the lull of sleep at one point, but the fear running through her body had prevented it. Finally, the car stopped, and Sarah heard the driver in the front step out. Stanley stayed put, arms crossed, and foot still placed firmly on Sarah's head. Too scared to move, she stayed put.

A moment later Stanley moved his arm and unrolled the window, starting to speak to whoever was outside. "You got the rope?"

Rope?

Sarah couldn't quite decipher what the other man said, but heard Stanley grunt. "Alright." His foot was moved off her face and he swung the car door open; for a brief moment, Sarah thought about fleeing, but the thought vanished when he kneeled down and his pudgy hands yanked her up. His breath reeked of old coffee and cigarettes as he pulled her close, smirking. "Enjoy your ride?"

"What do you want from me?" Sarah asked, practically begging. He didn't respond, only giving her that same cold smirk, and only when the smell of saltwater hit her was Sarah able to take in her surroundings.

Old stone buildings, covered in cracks and mold, stood on a decrepit dock. No boats were in sight, and Sarah had a feeling they hadn't been there in years. Vaguely, she could hear the sound of the city, but they had never sounded nor felt farther away than they did now.

Sarah was alone.

A wave of nausea took over and she started to tremble, which only seemed to amuse Stanley more. "Scared?" he said, tone mocking. Despite herself, anger also filled her, and she tried to struggle against his grasp; his response was to tighten it and twist her wrists, making her almost yelp in pain. Both of them were so distracted they didn't hear the sound of someone approaching, until he cleared his throat.

"It's ready." Stanley turned, letting Sarah see the identity of her other captor. He was younger, potentially even more so than her, with clean-cut blond hair and light gray eyes. When he caught Sarah looking, he turned away; from what, she didn't know.

"Perfect. Sister Sarah needs to rest after such a tiresome journey." The younger man didn't respond, instead grabbing hold of Sarah's arm. Both men began to pull her towards one of the buildings, the blond only letting go when they reached the closest. He pulled a rusted key out from his pockets, jiggling the lock a few times before the trio heard a click. Sarah could feel herself shaking again as he opened the door, terrified of what she would find inside.

To her shock, and maybe relief, it seemed to be mostly empty. In the inky darkness she could spot the vague outline of some old boxes, and maybe a few doors, but when a light was flicked on she saw not only was she correct, but there was another thing: a single wooden chair in the middle of the room, with a pile of rope laid neatly by it. Stanley didn't give her much time to stare at her surroundings, instead dragging her over and pushing her onto the chair. The blond kneeled down next to him, tying her feet while Stanley bound her arms. By the time they were done, Sarah could feel the wood from the chair pricking through her mission uniform, and when she tried to squirm around she winced when it scratched her skin. Neither man seemed to notice her discomfort, and if they did, they didn't care.

"Please," Sarah found herself asking for the third time, "what do you want? Why am I here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Stanley said with a dark laugh that sent chills up Sarah's spine. He looked over at his younger partner, who still wouldn't look at Sarah, before saying, "Listen, I'm gonna get some rest. Think you can handle it, Johnny?"

His name is Johnny, Sarah thought, as the blond nodded. Stanley turned to leave, slamming the door behind him. Sarah could see the light of morning was starting, and had the sinking feeling this might be her last time seeing the sun.