Alicante, Idris, Imogen POV

Gripping the report tight in her hands, she feels the paper scraping her hands as it crumbles around the edges. The words 'highly sensitive' shine brightly in her eyes. The Los Angeles Institute should not have anything, particularly interesting happening. All what was supposed to happen was a simple inspection. And now Freerun has sent her a highly sensitive report. What is going on there? Depending on what the report contains, she might also give them an official visit soon. Taking a deep breath, she focuses her eyes on the report.

The words of the report flow in front of her eyes telling everything she wants to know. Nothing of concern has been found in the institute. A full report is to be expected in a few days. She smiles only to narrow her eyes moments later. What is this about the unknown shadowhunter? How could this have even happened? She has files on every single shadowhunter in existence. This boy should not have existed without there being a file or her knowing about him.

Reading more carefully about him, her eyebrows furrow even deeper. An apparently new blade burst into flames when the boy used it. She has never heard about something like this. But maybe the Iron Sisters will know something but she has her doubts. It'll be something to look into later. But one thing is clear; whatever this was, the boy is clearly a shadowhunter. He has to be brought to Idris to learn his secrets but how will she do that? A knock on the door has her looking up.

"Enter!"

The door opens slowly and Ben stands on the other side of the door biting his lips while looking anywhere but at her. She smiles. Ben's nervous about something. And if she knows him then she'll soon learn what's bothering him. Ben strides into her office and falls into a chair. His head immediately falls into his hands while his elbows rest on his legs. Despite her interest, she refrains from voicing her questions. Ben will speak up soon anyway.

"Immy, I don't know what I have done wrong."

She frowns but stays silent. It's best to let Ben speak about his troubles in his own time than to pressure him. She puts her elbows on the desk and interlocks her fingers before putting her chin on her fingers. She watches as Ben stays in his position for quite a while. As it takes longer than she expected, she picks up the report again and returns to reading the report. The boy's apparently unaware of his powers or his people. He didn't seem to recognize glamour. All of it's not truly surprising. Most people won't recognize what they're seeing if it's right in front of them.

At the same time, she also worries. She frowns wondering why he did see the demons. If he was not paying much attention to it then he should not have seen them. As if he knew about the shadow world. Something the report adamantly denies. All in all, the boy's a contradiction. Taking a deep breath, she reaches inside the envelope pulling the enclosed papers out. The papers contain pictures of the boy's school records, photographs of him and his family, and his driver's license. She smiles. With this, she can find him out easily enough.

"Immy? Do you know how I can solve this?"

"Mhh, what's there to solve? You didn't exactly explain to me what's going on."

"I didn't? … That's not true, I did explain it. You're the one who didn't listen."

"Oh, forgive me. Could you explain it once more?"

She ducks her head for a moment. Despite this, she sees how Ben's arms raise and has to smile. If he did actually explain things then it's true she didn't hear it. It wasn't as if she wasn't listening on purpose. No, she was more focused on her work. It doesn't excuse things but it does provide her with an explanation.

"I said that I was looking for suitable marriage prospects for my grandchildren. In particular Noah and Issy. Unfortunately, they have taken it on themselves to make my job difficult. They're fighting me on every front."

"So, you need advice on how to get your grandchildren to stop fighting you? I suggest you simply leave things as they are. They're more than capable of finding their own partners. You just have to trust them to make the right decision."

"What no! That's not what I need your advice for."

"No, then for what do you need my advice for?"

She lifts the paper in front of her face hiding her smile. No matter how annoying Ben can be he's able to lift her spirits quite easily. It's a pleasant feeling which she crushes moments later. She doesn't need those feelings; she's got a job to do. Well, after fixing whatever Ben's problem is.

"How can I find someone suitable? I've looked everywhere in the States."

"Have you looked outside of it?"

"No, I haven't. And for a good reason, I would like to keep my grandchildren in the states."

"There'll be those who are willing to move to the States, you know."

"Yes, I know. I've been looking at them but they do not meet my criteria."

"Then you'll need to accept you won't find anyone. You'll need to let your grandchildren find their own partners."

"I refuse to do that."

"Then you'll have to choose what is more important for you; keeping your grandchildren in the States or finding them a partner."

Ben groans, putting his head back into his hands. His shoulders tremble with the chills running over his body. She raises her eyebrows for a moment before returning to the paper she is holding. Whatever problem Ben's experiencing isn't her concern. He'll have to solve it on his own. This report is the most important thing at this time.

"Immy, what's that paper you're looking at? Is something wrong?"

"It's just work. Nothing of true importance. But pray to tell, why do you think something's wrong?"

"Because you've been focused on it the entire time I've been here. What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I've got everything handled."

Ben snorts while shaking his head. She narrows her eyes. Is he doubting her words? He better not be doing that. She's got everything handled even if she doesn't know how to get the results she wants at this time. She'll know she'll figure it out eventually. On another note, he shouldn't be sticking his nose into it any longer. Even though it's an idle hope.

"Do you honestly think I believe that with how focused you were on it? Something's bothering you for certain. Just explain it to me and I'll give you free advice. The same thing you did for me."

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you. You won't quit until I tell you anyway. A young shadowhunter was discovered during a hunt in California. I've got no real information on him except for what the involved shadowhunters managed to gather. It's a good start but it's not what's drawn my attention."

"No, then what's it?"

"The boy used a new seraph blade which burst into flames in his hands after using it. I've never heard about something like this. I just don't know what to make of it. And, I know I need to bring him here but I'm unsure how to best do that. For all appearances, he seems to not know about the existence of the shadow world."

Ben frowns and tilts his head. She doesn't have to wonder why he's confused. It's outright bizarre for a person to use a seraph blade and not know about the Shadow World. Only those who know about the Shadow World would be able to know what to use a Seraph Blade for. The boy's an enigma. Ben scrapes his throat. She looks up only now becoming aware she was staring at her desk.

"Could he have drunk from the Mortal Cup?"

"When? It's been lost ever since Valentine stole it. And if he did then he's got to be involved with the Circle. How else could he have gotten a hold of the Mortal Cup."

"I don't know how he could have gotten ahold of the Mortal Cup. But I don't believe he's involved with the Circle. If he was then he would have been in the care of a Circle member. And more importantly, he would have known about the shadow world."

Ben scratches his chin for a moment. She uses the time to look back at the report searching for any hint. Anything which would explain if the boy belongs to the Circle. She needs to know but no matter how much she searches she can't find anything. She balls her fists before speaking up.

"Do you think he could have acted?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell you. Those shadowhunters who discovered him might be able to. But honestly, Immy, I don't believe he acted. I know you, you would have noticed it. Or is there anything in the report hinting at it?"

"No, nothing."

"Then what's your concern. Go with the assumption he hasn't been acting until you find sufficient proof of him having acted."

"You don't need to lecture me on doing my job. But I'll go with it. However, I'll be interrogating him. I want to know how he became a shadowhunter."

"A reasonable thing to do. But how will you find the time and place to interrogate him. You're not seriously considering bringing him here by force, are you?"

"Of course, I am. What other options do I have?"

"Maybe talking to him at school or something like that. You've got contacts to set such a thing up."

"I do but I don't think that's an option. From the pictures of his school records, I can tell he changes school relatively often. It'll be impossible to set such a thing up. Especially if he changes schools within a few weeks of me locating him."

"That can't be good for him."

"What do you mean?"

Ben looks at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiles wryly at him. She's got a feeling what he's aiming at. However, she wants him to actually voice it. And maybe it'll reflect a feeling she has. A feeling she would like to bury somewhere. Something which she fails at no matter how hard she tries.

"He changes schools so often. How can he find stability anywhere?"

"Your right, he won't have any stability with his current lifestyle. In that regard, I think we might actually be aiding him so long as he does not belong to the Circle."

"You and the Circle. You're way too focused on it. But you might be right in aiding him. It'll only be of aid to him so long as he doesn't want to truly return to his family."

"Yeah, well. That's a problem for another time. Anyway, I'll arrange for him to be brought to Idris now you agree with me."

"You need my agreement for that?"

Ben looks at her wide wide eyes before shakes his head while chuckling. She narrows her eyes. Ben knows what she means. She doesn't need anyone's permission except the Consul on a few rare occasions. And in this case, she certainly doesn't need any. All she wanted was some advice from him. And no matter what he would have said she would have followed through on this plan.

Oxford, Idaho, Dean POV

Sunlight streams through a bright blue sky. In the distance, treetops are clearly visible. A dark wooden house becomes more visible the further Dean walks. While walking, he narrows his eyes due to the sun blinding him. To him, it feels as if the sun has gotten brighter in the past few months. His confusion returns stronger as it makes no sense. Just as his hallucinations - if they truly are hallucinations - and his burn make no sense. He pulls his fingers through his hair pulling on it.

A shadow crosses the street in the distance. He turns his eyes following it and sighs. Not again. These hallucinations have become even more frequent than before. He bites his lips wondering if he's slowly losing his mind. The shadow stops between two trees. His eyes widen recognizing the shape; it is a person. Looking more closely at the person, a stone drops in his stomach.

A dark-haired man stands in the distance. The man's dressed in dark clothing. He narrows his eyes and frowns. Are those tattoos he sees on the man? He's not sure because of the distance between them and the size of the 'tattoos'. All he knows is there are lines on his body. And for all he knows it could be scars or shadows. Keeping an eye on the man, he walks on. He wants to get closer to the man. And the closer he gets, the more he frowns. In the end, he also tilts his head. Why's the man so familiar to him? He can't remember where he has seen him before. Just as he thinks this his eyes widen when he realizes something. It's the same person who talked to him in the store. He presses his lips tight wondering if he's been followed. If this person followed him here then it's time he gets the answers he desperately needs. He won't endanger Sammy.

Looking around, he locates a side street a few houses over. Grinning, he makes his way over to the side street. Here he'll confront the man. At the same time, his mind moves back to the number the man gave him. He was to call the number in a time of need. He shakes his head now convinced those words were nothing more than a trap. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he opens the text messaging app.

[Sammy, I've got some things to do. Be careful until I'm back and don't do anything stupid.]

Reaching the side street, he quickly looks back onto the street behind him. The man's moving towards him. His eyes glance to either side of him. Turning around, his eyes train first on a dumpster alongside a wall. Then his eyes move further into the street where people move around. When they notice his attention, they practically run into the buildings as if being chased by fire. He frowns. What was that about? Shaking his head, he discards those thoughts. He makes his way over to the dumpster and slips behind it.

Crouching down, he looks back into the street to find the man has not yet entered it. Rustling sounds come from behind him. He glances back and is met by some flickering. It switches between a person, a shadow, and nothing at all. He frowns for a moment before deeming it nothing of true importance. His stalker's what's most important right now and what he should be focusing on. As a result, he looks back around the dumpster. Nothing happens for a few moments before the man finally steps into the street. Pulling out his knife, he waits for the man to come closer.

A thud sounds behind him. He tenses but before he can so much as turn around a hand covers his mouth. His blade is knocked out of his hands. It scatters away out of his reach. An arm moves over his chest constricting his movements. Despite the arm, he struggles. His elbows collide with a body. Grunting sounds behind him. He smiles beneath the hand over his mouth. Trying again, he fails to move anything.

Pain flares through the back of his knees. He falls forward hitting the ground with a loud crack. The pain in his knees increases seconds after the impact. He is pushed forward while his arms are carefully moved behind his back. Trying to kick out, he fails when someone sits down on his legs. Moving his body, he feels more hands pushing on him. The combined efforts keep him still on the ground.

A bright light shines out of the corner of his eyes. He moves his head to find the man holding a glowing stick in his hands. A hand presses on his head causing the stone to bite into his cheeks. The man approaches him, putting his hand on his head. The other hand disappears. The man pushes his head further into the ground. It causes the stone to cut even harder into his cheek. At this time, he feels dirt scraping alongside his eyes. It is then the stick is brought closer. He struggles to get away but nothing works. He growls and grunts which sounds muffled.

The hand pushes even more on his head forcing his neck to show. He clenches his eyes shut as they begin to tear from the dirt entering it. He definitely doesn't do it because of fear. The light becomes brighter stinging into his closed eyes. Heath strikes his neck turning into stinging only seconds later. A burned smell reaches his nose despite the hand covering it. His eyes widen. What are they doing?

"Stop!"

His words come out of his mouth as mumbles due to the hand covering his mouth. The hand presses tighter when he speaks, making it difficult for him to breathe. The stinging reaches a new level just as drowsiness reaches his mind. He tries to bite his lips to stay awake. He cannot fall asleep now. He just can't. And while he thinks this, his eyes close.

Early August 1995

Alicante, Idris, Dean POV

A heavyweight on his body pushes him into something soft. Moving his hand, he finds himself rubbing over a soft mattress cover. He smiles. It was just a nightmare; nothing to worry about. Moving his head, he finds he hasn't felt so well-rested in a long time. He decides to make good use of it while it lasts. Sammy will soon be up forcing him to do the same. Dad will do him something if he doesn't take care of Sammy. Moving his hands to the duvet, he pulls it tighter around him and turns on his side.

Bright light strikes his closed eyes. He clenches them closer before opening them. A grey mountainside with patches of snow visible greets him outside his window. His eyes widen. There shouldn't be a mountain anywhere close. No, there should be a long stretch of wood. He shakes his head; no no no. This can't be happening. It can't. He must be dreaming. He pinches his arm and hisses. It's no dream. He closes his eyes. The assault was real. He's been kidnapped.

Throwing the covers off, he jumps out of the bed and looks around the room. He sees blue walls and a dark wooden bed with black covers. On the wall above the head side of the bed is a dark wooden mirror. Next to the bed stand bedside tables with lamps on top of them. A dark wooden dresser stands next to the bedside table. The room smells fresh with another nice smell intermixed.

He frowns wondering what the scent is. It's highly familiar but he can't place it. Shaking his head, he turns his attention to something else. Where is he? What's this for a room? Turning around, he sees a door and smiles. Walking towards the door confident he'll get out of here in no time. But once he reaches the door, he moves the handle and pushes with no effect. The door doesn't budge. Growling, he kicks against the door. The door hinges screech but it doesn't open. He beats against the door with no effect.

"Fuck."

Resting his head against the door, he moves the handle once more. He's aware it'll have no effect. Crossing his arms, he turns around and leans against the door. What to do now with no possibility to escape? He shrugs because he had no idea. If they put him in this room, he'll have no other option but to pull it apart. Maybe then he'll learn who kidnapped him. Walking forward, he walks towards the dresser and pulls the drawers open. Every drawer he opens is empty. Nothing's stored inside. The same counts for the drawers of the bedside tables.

He shakes his head. This makes no sense. There should have been something in these drawers even if it's just some knick-knacks. They shouldn't be empty. It's as if he's in a room with completely new furniture. Sitting down on the bed, he falls backward onto the mattress. He bounces for a moment before lying flat on his back. A white ceiling greets him above his head. The only break in the white is the black lamp hanging there. Inside the lamp is a crystal. He frowns. Why isn't there a light bulb in it? He wonders how a crystal can even give light. He shakes his head once more.

"What the hell is this stupid place."

Turning his head, he sees the mirror once more. It focuses on the blue walls. Lifting his head slightly, he finds his jacket has been taken off. His eyes widen and he jumps up before looking into the mirror. What else has been changed about his clothing? As he turns in front of the mirror, he notices he's only wearing his underwear. Goosebumps travel along his back at this revelation.

"Fuck it."

But then, he frowns wondering how come he didn't notice that he's been in his underwear all this time. Realizing this, the goosebumps on his body increase due to the coldness of the room. Clenching his fists, pain flares up in his hand and he hisses. So, the burn is still painful. Just great. Lifting his hand, he finds a clean bandage covering his burn. Why did they treat it? The bandage was still good. Or did it come loose during his struggle? That must be it because it's the only reason for his bandage to be changed.

Shaking his head, he turns around finding a few bruises on his body. On his arms and legs, a few superfluous scrapes can be seen. On his neck, a faint white scar is visible. It looks like some of the runes dads taught him. However, at the same time, it's still different. Scrubbing his hand over the scar, he only feels skin. There's no indication it's ever been a true wound. Knowing he's uninjured as much as can be expected, he finally decides to go looking for his clothing. But no matter where he looks, he can't find his own or any other type of clothing. He sighs wondering why he ever expected to find clothing. During his earlier search, he only found empty drawers. It would've been a real surprise had he found clothing right now.

Taking a deep breath, he jumps off the bed walking towards the window. If he can't get out of this room, he might as well determine where exactly he is. It'll allow him to better escape once an opportunity presents itself. As such, he hopes he'll get a good view of the neighborhood. This way, he'll hopefully get an idea of what his escape will look like.

Reaching the window, he looks outside and his eyes widen once again. He sighs wondering how many more times he will do that. In front of him is a good view of the city. Glowing pillars are visible all around the city. They're easily as large as some of the skyscrapers he's seen, if not larger. He narrows his eyes at the pillars. They look like they're made of glass but that's impossible. Nothing so large could ever be made out of glass. It must have been made out of something else. It has to be.

Turning his attention back to the city, he looks down and puts his hand in front of his eyes. The houses glitter into his eyes, nearly blinding him. Spreading his fingers slightly, he looks between them and is finally able to look at the houses. Nearly all of the houses have a golden color or something similar. The roof tiles are bright red. To him, they appear to have the same color as blood. From the window, he can find no other signs of cities or towns in the area. It appears as if this is the only city.

His heart sinks into his stomach realizing what kind of building he's locked up in. A highrise or another tall building. It's the only explanation of how he can see so far. And how he has to look down to look at the roofs of the houses. He's somewhere high in the building. The ground looks tiny when he looks towards it.

Clenching his fists, he kicks against the wall beneath the window once. Then he turns around and quickly walks towards the door kicking against it once more.

"Fuck it, open up already. Come on! You've got to be kidding me. What do you want? Show yourselves you monsters or are you scared of me? Well, you should be."

Growling, he rests his head against the door. Why doesn't it open? Why? What do these people want from him? Taking a deep breath knowing it is futile to spend any more time here, he turns again. His eyes sparkle seeing a door he hasn't seen before. Glancing over his shoulder, he deems it safe so walks towards the door. Maybe this will be his way out of this room and out of the city.

Opening the door, he is met with a bright sparkling bathroom. A bath stands in the corner next to a black shower. The walls are pure white. So white, they nearly blind him. A black sink hangs over some cabinets. And lastly, a black toilet stands next to the sink. He frowns wondering what this place has with the color white and black. It seems to be the norm here no matter how strange that is.

He shakes his head knowing he's got better things to do while his eyes focus on the chair. On the chair he finds clothing. Finally. Now he won't have to walk around in his underwear anymore. Walking towards the chair, he lifts the shirt lying on top. His fingers move over it as if moving over smooth gel. This tells him it's made of some material he hasn't seen before. His lips become thin. He won't put this on. He won't.

Putting it down, he turns around and walks back into the bedroom. He looks around searching for his own clothing. Nowhere in the room was any trace of clothes the last time he checked. Maybe he's missed something like the door and those clothes? But no matter where he looks, he can't find his clothing.

"Dammit, you bastards."

Swallowing a sigh, he walks back to the bathroom and the chair. He's got no choice now. He'll have to put on the clothing which lay there. That or remain in his underwear.

A few minutes later, despite being dressed he shivers. These clothes feel strange to him. It's as if he's meant to wear them. He moves around testing them. They cling tightly against his skin. It should be burning but doesn't. It's as if he's wearing clothes loosely which he doesn't. It shouldn't be possible. With its clinging, he shouldn't be able to move as he's able to.

He bites his lips not liking all these strange things which he's been experiencing. The hallucinations. The burn he cannot explain. His ambush and abduction. And now, the clothes which feel right to wear but don't make sense. It's as if he's slowly losing his mind which he knows isn't true. This thought only pushes him more to escape.

Turning around, he opens the cabinets looking for something. Anything with which he can finally get out of this room. He pulls everything out of the cabinets. After what feels like an eternity, he finally locates a small round tube. Prying it out of the cabinet, he pulls feeling how it's stuck, pulling harder, he manages to pull it loose only to fall on his ass on the ground. Standing up, he brushes his trousers and picks up the tube.

Looking it over for a moment, he turns it around in his hands, determining how best to bend it. Once he's made his decision, he puts it over the sink and pushes the tube against it until it has the corners he wants it to have. Looking it over once more, he smiles pleased with the results. But then he frowns. He should have felt something when bending the tube. It shouldn't have gone without a need to strain. He sighs, adding it to the ever-growing list of strange things happening to him.

Shaking his head, he moves towards the door where he puts the tube between the door and the wall. Pushing his shoulder against the door, he leans into it while applying pressure with the tube. For a long moment, nothing happens. Nothing until moments before he loses hope when the door swings open. He falls forward hitting the ground hard with his shoulder and cries out. Within seconds, his hand's over his mouth while he bites his lips. His escape cannot be discovered. It cannot. He's got to get away.

Standing up, he looks around and listens. The hallway is deadly silent. No sounds reach his ears. No movement or anything. The hallway appears completely deserted except for the glowing crystals hanging from the ceiling. A deep sigh escapes his mouth. He shakes his head hurrying out of the hallway into another. There, he immediately makes his way to the first window he sees.

Looking out of the window, he sees a large wall a short distance away from the building. He snorts; a short distance? Not likely. He knows how high in the building he is. It's never a short distance. It's most likely a large distance away from the building. Shaking his head, he leans slightly out of the window looking down while gripping the window sill tightly. His heart beats in his throat and blood rushes to his head. His arms start to burn but he bites his lips refusing to give up. After what feels like an eternity, he finally locates an exit. He smiles and pulls himself back into the building. Once back inside, he lets himself drop along the wall. He leans his head against the window sill catching his breath.

He walks through the hallways moving forwards ever closer to where he saw the exit is located. Nothing particularly interesting happens so his eyes turn onto the hallway. He already saw he's in something similar to a castle. The hallway reflects it as they are dark and gloomy. This just reinforces his belief he should get out of here as quickly as possible.

Shaking his head, he focuses once more on the hallway. Along the hallway statues of angels and vases in multiple styles stand on tables. Between some of the tables are large distances while others stand closely together. Stopping, he takes a closer look at one of the vases. The vase is decorated with multiple angels. One of them wears a helmet and a sword. other angels stand close to him also holding swords. They all seem to be flying. Near the bottom of the vase, the ground is located on which multiple people stand. He scratches the back of his head wondering what these people have with angels. It completely contradicts the dark and gloomy atmosphere in the hallway. Voices reach his ears forcing him to jump into the first small opening he finds in the hallway.

"Why were we all called here for some boy? What's so special about him?"

"I don't know but I know the inquisitor. Whatever it is, it'll mean nothing good for the boy. No matter how special you think he is."

Dean clenches his fists. He doesn't like the sound of it. And why an inquisitor? He hasn't gotten involved in an inquisition, right? This must be some strange cult. It's the only thing which makes sense to him. He wonders what this inquisition might be about. He just hopes it's nothing concerning the hunters. He doesn't want to lead them to Sammy or dad. Nor any other hunter. They're doing too much good to be targeted by some cult. He bites his lips. Whatever it is, he's got to escape quickly.

"Well no matter what, we'll get the answers we need soon enough."

"Oh, why do you say that, Peter?"

"Oh, I might have heard something about the inquisitor intending to use the mortal sword to interrogate the boy."

"Ah, I now know what you mean. The poor boy. Just make sure she never finds out about you listening in on her conversations. But do you know anything else about him?"

Footsteps sound in the distance. Dean bites back a groan. How many more people will be moving through this hallway? They need to disappear so he can finally escape. He listens to the footsteps and notices they come from the opposite direction he came from. Well, that's reassuring. He won't be discovered right now. The footsteps stop near where he imagines the two people are standing. A new deep voice speaks up.

"Inquisitor's aide Freerun, Inquisitor Herondale would like to see you."

"Of course, I'll meet her in her office. Till later, Lydia."

"Good luck, Peter. Hope it's not because of what we just talked about."

So Peter is called Freerun with his last name. Good to know. He tastes the name in his mouth and snorts. He immediately presses his hand over his mouth. He shouldn't be making these sounds if he wants to remain hidden. He listens but no one moves towards him.

Two sets of footsteps turn a corner. He holds his breath for a moment hoping everyone has left. More footsteps follow turning into another direction. Luckily, no one has moved past his hiding space. Waiting for a moment, he steps out of his hiding once he deems it safe and practically runs towards the exit.

Soon his destination becomes visible and within moments he reaches the exit. He opens the door and steps out of the building and clenches his eyes shut while bowing his head. The lights blinding him. He wants to speak but as before restrains himself. It'll be no good if he's found before he has gotten away. He opens his eyes and looks up, finally resisting what it looks like. Again, he refrains from speaking up.

He's in a large empty courtyard. A large stone wall stands in front of him at a distance. Looking around, he sees an iron gate with a strange symbol on it. That'll be his way out. But just as he thinks this, his mind moves back to the strange symbols. Shaking his head, he stops his mind from wandering. He'll have time for this once he's gotten away.

Running towards the gate, he touches it when his arm is pulled back. He hits the ground with a loud thud. The breath knocked out of him.

"Well well well, what've we got here? An escapee? Max will surely be happy to hear I caught you before you got away."

His arms are pulled behind his back and bound by rope. He pulls on the rope feeling it burn into his skin. Then he is hauled up from the ground by his right arm. He stumbles and tries to pull away from the hand holding him when another grabs his other arm. He kicks out with his legs.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

He struggles with every step only to feel himself be pulled along. Before long, the building becomes larger and the door in his sight. He intensifies his struggling to no avail. They reach the door which opens screeching and he is dragged through. The door is closed before he's even aware of it. The darkness of the hallway comes upon him. It's darker than it was before.