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SIX

She was awake. She had been for a few minutes. But her eyes remained closed, her ears open. Bellamy could hear the voices around her, but the sentences didn't make sense. From the feel of it, her hands were bound above her head. The tips of her toes barely touched the ground beneath her causing her arms to feel like they were being ripped from the sockets. There's a hard throb pounding against the back of her skull.

A sudden wave of nausea forced her to give herself up.

She leaned to the side as far as the restraints would allow and she wretched. The room went silent for only a second before someone spoke to her.

"Where is it?" the man asked. Her stomach curled in on itself, threatening to empty again. The familiarity of the accent caused her already pounding heart to quicken, her chest to tighten. "Give us the list and we'll make it quick."

"I don't…" Bellamy shook her head, which only made her feel queasy. "Please." she remembered begging Frank the same way she was begging the man, the men, in front of her. The brightness of the artificial lights burned her eyes, forcing her to blink rapidly There were at least 5 of them that she could see, but further off down the hall she heard other voices. The difference was, Frank hadn't hit her when she begged. These guys did.

A fist connected hard and fast with the side of her cheek. The coppery taste of blood quickly settled on her tongue.

She would die here.

She felt it in her bones. These men would kill her because she wouldn't… no, couldn't… give them what they so desperately wanted.

They asked over and over and over again. Where is it? Where is it? Where is it? And every single time, she gave the same answer, the only answer she had, I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. For each time she gave the wrong reply, a fist collided with some part of her body. Face, stomach, chest. The pain was everywhere. It engulfed every inch of her, bringing her closer and closer to unconsciousness.

"You little bitch." one of the men sneered, spit flying from his lips onto Bellamy's face. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell he was too close. She could smell his putrid breath as he breathed the words onto her. "You think you're tough?" he ran his tongue up the side of her neck. Bellamy let out the first cry since being pushed into the van. She could take the beating, it came almost naturally thanks to her earlier years. Being beat up in high school and starting fights at every bar she entered had given her the thick skin and skull to take one hell of a punch.

But this was different. The feel of his rough tongue on her skin was by far the worst pain she'd ever experienced. It pained her soul, her bones, her blood. And it would never even leave a mark.

"You'll wish you were dead when we're through. Each and every one of us." he snickered, and a few of the men behind him did the same. Bellamy's eyes had been closed and she hadn't seen the knife in his hand. So when the sharp edge pierced through her skin, the shock mixed with the pain and caused a strangled sound to leave her throat.

"I don't fucking have it!" she cried out angrily, feeling the blood ooze from the long cut he left just below her collarbone. Was the placement symbolic? If he had cut deep enough, hard enough, fast enough, held it at the right angle, the blade would have taken off her breast. Was that his way of reminding her of what he could take from her?

A loud crash came from down the hall. The man in front of her looked back at his men and tipped his head towards the sound, silently commanding them to go check it out. But his attention was back on her immediately. His lips peeled back in a snarl to reveal startlingly perfect teeth. Not what she would have expected.

"Now, why would Jimmy lie to us, huh? His own family?" he cocked his head and pushed the knife up to her throat. With light pressure, it broke through the thin layer of skin, but barely felt like a pin prick. "I don't think he would. So," he pressed harder, "where is it?"

More noise erupted from the hall, closer this time. He turned, drawing a pistol up at the same exact moment that Frank came into view. Bellamy's heart stopped mid beat. Was her mind playing tricks, or was the giant covered in blood at the doorway really him? His black shirt was covered by a bullet proof vest. The vest had what, in her warped mind, looked something like a white skull printed on the front. But it was hard to tell because patches of red and black covered the print.

The man who'd been asking her questions unloaded a bullet in his direction. Bellamy's breath caught in her throat. But the bullet went wide. Before he had the chance to pull the trigger a second time, Frank shot his own gun. Blood spattered onto Bellamy's face as the bullet plunged into the man's forehead directly in front of her.

Unable to wipe the blood from her eyes, she watched the next few seconds through a sheen of red. Limbs flying at limbs, a few shots ringing through the air, the sounds of grunts and blunt hits connecting with flesh. She caught glimpses of motion, but the only thing that she could see clearly, was the pool of blood forming around her feet from her captor.

As suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped. It was as if everything stopped. Even her heart and her breath seemed to shut down for a long moment while she waited for something to happen. The helplessness of her position made her want to cry in frustration as she wrung her hands trying in vain to wiggle from the cuffs. She couldn't protect herself, she couldn't even wipe the damn blood off her face.

As if answering her prayers, a rough material was wiped down her face, taking most of the blood along with it. Bellamy blinked a few times, letting the scene in front of her come into focus. Frank was there, his sleeve drawn down over his hand. The floor was littered with bodies of the men who moments ago, were laughing at her torture. Blood coated the cement floor and walls, guns and knives scattered about.

But the room was so… still. No one moved, no one spoke. The only noise was coming from her and Frank as they both drank in as much air as their lungs would allow.

While she took it all in, Frank's hands wrestled with the chains above her head. He must have pulled the key to the cuffs off one of the bodies because she heard it lock into place and felt the sweet release of her wrists. Without the chains to support her body weight, Bellamy nearly fell on all fours. Frank half caught her and dragged her to her feet. His black eyes raced over her, from head to toe, quickly assessing the damage.

"We have to go." he said urgently. His voice, which had terrified her the first time she'd heard it, was a sweet comfort now. With an arm around her waist, which she was pretty sure was holding her upright, he guided her through the dark halls. More bodies were strewn across the rooms, some laying at very disturbing angles, bones clearly broken. The metallic scent of blood made her feel queasy all over again.

"Did you…" she trailed off weakly. Had he done all of this? Frank pulled her closer when she slowed her pace.

The thought alone should terrify her, but it didn't. In fact, it was the opposite. His arm curled around her, hand pressed against her side as he shuffled them both forward, made the fear dissolve.

"Move, let's go." his legs moved faster. He was on a time crunch, that much was apparent. Bellamy did her best to keep up, even with shaking legs and clouded vision. Once outside, her first observation was that it was night time. How long had she been in there, tied up and tortured? It had been mid morning when they'd shoved her in that damn van.

"Miya?" She asked with bated breaths as they moved towards the familiar black truck.

"Fine. She's still with Curtis." He assured her quickly.

"How do you…"

"I called him when I saw them pull you from the van." he cut off her question with the answer. The relief she felt was overwhelming. Miya was still safe. And for the first time, she let herself think about her own broken body.

As they drove out of the dark and uneven parking lot, a bomb erupted behind them. The truck shook from the force and Bellamy let out a scream of shock. She whipped her head to find the cause. All her eyes could make out was a plume of fast rising smoke and rubble flying through the air.

The entire building, which she had been chained to only minutes before, was gone. Utterly and completely demolished in seconds.