After a long wait, I'm super excited to present this new fic! It's a muggle AU and I'm so proud of it so far! The story title and all the chapters are based on Bastille lyrics, which is one of my favorite bands. This fic wouldn't be nearly as good without the help from TheDistantDusk and Breanie, both have been amazing!

I'm going to be trying for a weekly update on Saturday's. I hope y'all like it and I'm excited to hear your thoughts :)

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Pain.

The first thing Ginny noticed was pain. Pain in her stomach, arms, legs, face, basically her entire body. She felt as if she'd gone ten rounds with a professional fighter. She slowly shifted her shoulders, feeling the tug of stiff muscles. Muscles weren't the only thing that she pulled. She heard the rattle of the chain before she felt it on her wrist. Her eyes shot open as her heart started racing in her chest.

The room was dark, only illuminated by a dying bulb up in the ceiling. The room was bare except for a rusty toilet. She could feel a hard mattress beneath her back and she had to assume she had been tied to some sort of cot. Ginny's breathing started to come out in fast huffs, making her chest hurt worse than before. She pulled her arm again, this time noticing the sting of the cold metal cutting into her wrist.

Where the fuck was she, and how did she get there?

She slid her body down, bringing her into a slumped sitting position. Now she could make out the plain white walls surrounding her, along with the bars that covered one section of the wall. She was in some sort of prison cell.

Ginny felt her body shaking as a million thoughts ran through her head. A thousand questions. Why was she here? Who would lock her up? She didn't have some sort of archnemesis. This wasn't a movie or some nightmare. This was real life. This was her life… where she'd been… kidnapped?

An answer to some of her questions came in the form of a lean man coming to rattle the bars of her cage. He grinned at her, showing overly white and straight teeth. "Well, good morning, sleeping beauty!" His voice was worse than nails on a chalkboard. Just one word from his mouth made her want to retreat against the wall. Maybe this was a movie, because he reminded her of the stereotypical villain from any drama. "Glad to see Crabbe didn't mess up that pretty face of yours too much."

"Why?" Ginny croaked the word, suddenly noticing how dry her throat was. She cleared it, "Why am I here?"

His grin shifted to something so feral Ginny was reminded of a smug wolf with its prey. "Aw, Ginny. Dear, sweet Ginny. Don't worry about a thing. Boss will take good care of you. I mean, he did pick you out special."

A shiver ran down her spine as his words started triggering a primal fear in her. What the fuck was happening and how did he know her name? His boss? Ginny's mind was reeling and nothing was making sense.

The man continued to smile at her. His eyes ran all the way down her body, making Ginny crave a shower. "Now, Ginny, you're gonna be here for a few days and then my friend Peter is going to take you to your new… living arrangement. While you are staying with me, you need to know about some ground rules."

Ginny was hardly breathing. It was like her body was shutting down as her captor spoke of expectations and attitudes. Only two thoughts penetrated the fog swirling around her mind: She needed to get out of here, and she only had a few days to do it.

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Time has no meaning in a prison cell. Ginny lost track of the hours she spent cuffed to the cot. There were no windows presenting a natural clock. She did know she'd been fed two times since arriving. That had been a degrading experience. Her jailer, now a short rat-like man with a high voice, had come in, and after dropping a tray on the floor beside her cot, he made a majority of the food spill onto the dirty concrete. She could still feel the residual ache from the gut-punch he'd provided after.

Of course, being blamed for wasting food wasn't the most demeaning moment of her captivity. When the same disgusting man had stripped her… That was a moment she'd never forget. The feeling of his disgusting hands lingering on her breasts and waist still made her shiver, even as she lay under the scratchy blanket he'd given her.

A punch and some groping were all that had happened so far, but that was more than Ginny wanted to ever deal with again. And if her assumption was correct, things would get much worse in a few days if she didn't find a way out of there. When she was alone, Ginny had dedicated her time to trying to find a way out of her cuffs. One side had been locked around a metal bar that was attached to the bed frame and the other was tightly clicked to her wrist. Her skin had gone red and raw from the strain she'd been putting against it.

But the pain was worth it because after pulling against the post enough times, Ginny had started to feel it shift. It had been minor, but when Ginny had touched the cold metal bar, she could feel the spot where it had detached from the main post. It wasn't enough to slide the cuff off, but with some more time, Ginny was certain she would get there.

Time… time didn't seem to be on her side. At least, based on the ominous words her jailer had said as he'd left her cell the last time. She could still hear the cruelly amused tone he'd used as he'd lamented not having to deal with her bullshit for much longer. That had been at least a few hours ago and Ginny hadn't stopped working on her binds. She had no plan for after, but Ginny refused to go down without a fight.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat as she picked up the sound of at least two people's footsteps. She lay back on the cot faining sleep. The footsteps grew louder as their voices became clear.

"And no one suspects anything?" This voice was rougher than sandpaper. It was the kind of voice that villains in movies had.

"The MET is full of fucking idiots, Greyback." Another man laughed. "Fuck, they'll probably give me a promotion to captain before they even release some of these bitches are missing."

"I bet you'll be assigned some of their cases, Crouch."

Another wicked laugh echoed from the hall. "That will be a shame. My solve rate will go down, won't it? But at least I'll be getting paid well for it."

Ginny's heart thudded painfully in her chest. If she was understanding what this guy was saying… he was a police officer! Whoever these guys were, kidnappers, traffickers, murders, whatever, they had a man working for the police to get them out of trouble. An inside man.

Their footsteps froze right outside her cell. Ginny held her breath, praying they wouldn't unlock the door.

"This is the one boss wants for himself," The man called Greyback growled in his rough voice. "He said she was going to be the perfect plaything for him."

Ginny could feel her body starting to tremble, she had to force herself to remember to

breathe. She didn't know what being a plaything meant to these guys, but she could guess, and Ginny would rather die than live like that.

"You know what they say about redheads," Crouch laughed, sending another round of shivers cascading down Ginny's spine. "I've always wondered if the drapes matched the curtains... if only we didn't give her that fucking blanket." This time both men laughed. After a moment, silence fell between the men and Ginny thought for a second they'd moved on until Crouch spoke again. His wistful words made the hairs on Ginny's arm rise. "We can always take the blanket, check her out more thoroughly and you know, give her a try. I wouldn't mind trying her out… just a night. Show her what it's like to be with a real man. No one would know, right?"

When keys jingled loudly by the door, the air left Ginny's lungs.. Her entire body tightened, ready to fight despite being handicapped. There was no way this guy was trying her out.

Fortunately, Ginny didn't have to work out her one-handed combat plan, because Greyback's sharp voice seemed to stop Crouch in his tracks. "We do not touch the women. They belong to buyers." The keys jingled again, but this time muffling into silence as if dropped into a pocket. "If you want one, buy one."

Crouch let out an exasperated sigh. "Spoilsport." There was another agonizing heartbeat of silence before he said, "Fine. Let's go get a drink then. Or do I need to buy that too?"

Ginny listened to them bicker as their voices and footsteps faded away. It took another minute for Ginny to be able to breathe normally again. She sat up, tilted her neck so she could look at her cuffed arm. There was no fucking way she was going to stay here and wait to become the boss' plaything. She was getting out of here if it was the last thing she ever did.

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After what felt like forever, Ginny finally slid the cuff off the metal bar. It had taken her ripping the entire bar from the bed frame for her to get the handcuff off. It had made her wrist chafe and start to bleed, but the effort had been worth it. Not only did she have both hands free, but she gained a weapon in the form of a big metal bar.

She rose slowly from the bed, wincing at the pins and needles that instantly shot down her legs. Taking baby steps, Ginny paced the small room to regain feeling. After three laps Ginny started to feel almost normal again. Well, as normal as she could in such a fucked up situation.

Ginny took a deep breath. She needed to focus on the task at hand, and not go into detail about it all. Escape. That's what she needed to think about. How was she going to escape?

It was horribly dark in her cell, the light not nearly illuminating half the area. So she found one wall and started feeling it. High, low, the corners, she checked it all for a weak spot. But after at least five minutes of searching, Ginny found nothing. No cracks she could dig at. Not a single bent bar that she could slide through. The only thing she discovered was a small crevice to the left of the door where no one could see her from outside the cell. Of course, the minute said person came in and turned to leave they'd see her standing there like an idiot.

A door slamming in the distance made Ginny freeze like a spooked deer. Footsteps, the jingling of keys, and a hushed whisper came from down the corridor. If she had to guess, it was the small man. Her normal jailer. She started to recognize how every other step he took he dragged one foot. It wouldn't be long until he reached her cell. Without a second thought, Ginny slid into the small alcove, her hands tightening on the bar. She lifted it like a cricket bat, ready to swing at a moment's notice.

The footsteps grew louder and louder, beating in time with Ginny's pounding heart. Her chest tightened as the footsteps paused right outside her cell.

"It's your time to shine, girly."

She'd been right that it was the rat-man. His annoying high voice made her want to punch him in the face. The cell door crashed loudly against the wall beside Ginny, making her jump. She could see the man stride in with a cockiness that just added to Ginny's desire to hit him.

Ginny held her breath as the man walked towards the cot. She could see the exact moment he realized it was empty. His shoulders rose and a dark tint spread across his skin.

"What the fuck?" His tone lost that arrogant teasing, shifting to anger and what Ginny placed as fear. He ripped the blanket away from the bed, throwing it to the dirty floor. "Fuck!"

He was distracted. Ginny knew now was her chance to get some ground on this fucker. If she could knock him out, it would give her a chance to try and escape out of this hell hole without him chasing her.

Ginny moved slowly, barely breathing as she tightened her grip on the metal bar. Her jailer crouched down, checking under the bed for her. After a second, he swore before rising quickly and turning, only to be met with a hard swing of her impromptu bat. She hit him hard in the gut, making him grunt in pain. Not willing to give him time to recover, Ginny aimed a well-placed knee to his groin.

The loud wail he released echoed in the normally silent hall. He fell to his knees, hands covering his groin. His eyes met hers with pure hatred. When he opened his mouth, most likely to call for help, Ginny swung the bar again, this time hitting him hard in the face. Blood spurted out from his nose instantly, splashing across her cheek as he collapsed onto the floor.

Ginny stared at the still body before her. She couldn't even tell if he was breathing. Blood continued to spread, turning the dirty concrete red. Fear started coursing through her. She'd only meant to knock him out not… Had she…?

Her hands started to shake as the bar dropped from her numb fingers. There was no time to think about all of this. She needed to get the fuck out of there. She turned towards the wide-open door, hesitating for a second before going back to the prone figure. Taking a deep breath Ginny crouched down and reached into the man's pockets. Her fingers instantly found what she was looking for. She had no idea what the keys might go to, but she figured having them was a good idea. Pulling them out, Ginny discovered a car fob attached to the ring, along with five different keys. The sound of them crashing against each other seemed louder than a gunshot in the silent cell.

Ginny put the keys in the center of her palm and held them tight. They dug into her skin but it would keep them from jingling loudly. She had no clue which way to go. Left or right. Deciding to go back the way her jailer had come, Ginny practically spirited down the hall. She ignored all the doors that led off into side rooms, choosing to head straight until she reached some sort of exit or at least a window that she could maybe jump out of. It didn't take long for her to reach her goal. As she went around a corner she saw a heavy door at the far end of the corridor. It was exactly the kind of door that would be used as an entrance. She picked up the pace. Her heart was pounding in time with her furious steps. She was close. Just another ten seconds and she would be out of her hellscape.

That's when a door to her left crashed against the wall as it swung open.

"I swear Pettigrew has some stashed in his —"

Ginny skidded to a stop as she locked eyes with a scarred brute of a man. His lips curled into a menacing snarl as he reached into his pocket. At the flash of a blade, Ginny didn't even stop to think; she bolted straight towards the exit. She veered to the right to avoid the swipe of the man's knife.

"Get the fuck back here!" His rough voice reverberated off the walls as Ginny crashed into the exit. She quickly turned the handle, pushing her way out into a pitch-black night. The cold air hit her bare skin like a bucket of ice.

Every nerve in Ginny's body was on edge as she ran. She had no idea where she was going but anywhere was better than here. A sudden thought hit her and she slid her thumb against the car fob. Ignoring the tremble in her fingers, she managed to find the lock button. She pressed it twice in rapid succession and nearly cried in relief as yellow lights blinked from a car to her right.

She made a beeline for the faded lights, tripping over uneven ground as she went. Ginny could hear voices from behind her, but she didn't stop to listen. It didn't matter who it was, there was no way she could trust them. Fuck, based on the way that bloke had been talking earlier, she couldn't even trust the police. What she needed to do was find a safe place and recuperate. Get a plan.

Her knee crashed hard against the hood of a car, making her nearly cry out in pain. She had to bite her bottom lip to avoid cursing. It took her second to recover, her free hand landing hard on the hood. Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out.

"Where did she fucking go?"

Ginny recognized the "detective's" voice and her heart started to pound painfully against her ribs. He sounded close… too close.

She slid her hand along the cold metal of the car, moving slowly along the side trying to find the handle. It took longer than she wanted, but eventually, her fingers closed around the handle. Ginny opened the door with a sharp pull, her body tensing as the overhead light lit up the dark night.

"There!" It was the scarred man from the hall. "She's getting into a car!"

Ginny slammed the door behind her, locking it instantly behind her. She looked around at the dash quickly. There was a push start on the side of the steering wheel. Slamming her foot onto the break, she held the button. The car revved to life, the headlights illuminating a wide long driveway and a bunch of other cars.

The light also showed two men running at her, large knives brandished out in front of them like lances in jousting. Ginny put her foot back on the break and put the gear shift into drive. She pivoted her foot over to the gas and floored it, jerking the wheel to the right to follow the long dirt road to… to anywhere but there.