"Chapter 1: Gone"

When Catherine came in and told him the news, his world stopped. Thoughts and images of the past years flooded into his mind. The first time they met, the first time they said goodbye, her coming to Vegas, all of the complications that had arisen from that, and then her being on this case.

Three months earlier they had begun to piece together the pattern of a serial killer. He murdered women who were strippers. He would torture them, rape them, and eventually kill them. Grissom eventually allowed Sara to go undercover for the case, although he was screaming at himself not too. Catherine taught her how to dance, and got her the job at a club called 'Twist'. They chose that club because if the pattern was right, it would be next.

Unfortunately, they were right. When Sara hadn't checked in that night, Brass, Nick, and Warrick had gone to the club where they found one of here shoes as well as her purse on the ground, but they didn't find her cellphone. They had decided that Catherine should be the one to tell Grissom.

"Gil, what should we do next?"

Catherine's voice brought Grissom back into reality. "We've got to find her Cath."

"I know… Do you think you'll be able to handle this case?"

"I don't know… Let's get the team together, we need to talk this thing out."

She nodded. About ten minutes later, Grissom, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, and Greg were sitting around a table in one of the layout rooms. On the table were pictures, maps, and evidence from the other cases.

"Ok guys, at this point all we know is that somewhere Sara is being held by a deranged serial murderer and rapist. The other victims have only lasted about two days before he killed them. That means we need to find her in less than forty hours, or she is dead," Grissom told them. "Any suggestions on finding her are welcome."

The other four thought about it for awhile, and then Greg spoke up, "Her cellphone."

"What about it," asked Nick.

"It wasn't found right? That could mean that she still has it."

"What good does that do us," Warrick said, frustrated.

"If she called out, we may be able to trace her signal."

"I'll get on it right away," Catherine said as she got up and left the room. The others followed her.

Sara was slowly coming back into consciousness. She moaned softly due to the pain in her head that was traveling down her neck and back. She was trying to remember what happened.

She had left through the back door of the club as usual. She had only thrown a lightweight shirt and pair of pants over her very skimpy stripper clothes. She had taken her cellphone and put it in her pocket. Then she put her purse over her shoulder and headed towards her car. Then everything went black.

When she had come back around, she was in the trunk of a car. Her first instinct had been to panic, but she realized that her cellphone was still in her pocket. Although her hands were tied she managed to get her cellphone out, and she called her voicemail so that the signal would keep being sent out. She then pushed the phone into the back of the trunk before passing out again.

But she was in a different place now. She was barely clothed, and her wrists and ankles were tied by satin cords to a bed.

She breathed deeply and slowly, trying to prevent herself from panicking. In the back of her mind she realized that there was music playing softly somewhere, but she couldn't make out the words.

She slowly surveyed the room. There was a balcony door to her right, and there was another door by it, which led into a bathroom. There was another door to her left, but it was closed, so she couldn't see where it led. There were candles in the room, which were lit. The walls were red, the curtains were dark red velvet, and the bed covers were red satin. The furniture in the room was all a dark mahogany. A gun and knife were lying on a dresser across from the bed. To her left, and behind her was a radio.

'I've found him, and now he'll kill me. O please let them trace my signal,' Sara thought. 'I won't let him kill me. He won't win.'

Then to her shock, a man came from out of the bathroom.

"Oh good, you're awake. I have waited for you for sometime my dear." He said as he came to the side of the bed.

Sara didn't remember seeing him at the club, but there were so many men there that they tended to bled together in one mass.

He wasn't scary in appearance. He was kind of handsome. He had deep green eyes and dark red hair. He was in his upper forties, but he didn't look like it. His voice was also disturbingly soothing.

He sat on the bed next to Sara. He took his hand and ran it slowly along her hair and face. Sara flinched, she felt like vomiting. His expression changed from affectionate to angry. He got up and went over to the weapons.

"These are the tools of my craft. If you are good and behave, I won't need to use them."

"I'm not afraid of you." Sara said defiantly.

He smirked cruelly. "Good, that means you'll last a lot longer than the others… What, did you think that you were my first? None of them appreciated me enough. Their deaths are still unsolved."

He smiled again, and Sara bit her tong to prevent herself from fighting back. He picked up the knife and he went over to the radio where he turned up the volume.

Suddenly, the words registered in her mind. She knew Evanescence's lyrics well, she wanted to scream, and she started shaking. 'Don't show him fear,' she told herself.

Then he went over to the bed again. He untied the sash of the bathrobe he was wearing; underneath he was wearing boxer shorts, both red silk. Then he climbed onto the bed and he straddled her waist. He laid down the knife at her side, and then he leaned down to kiss her.

'Now that I know what I'm without, you can't just leave me. Breathe into me and make me real, bring me to life.'

TBC...