Len groaned as he woke up. He tried to rub his head, only to find that his hands were chained above him to the wall behind him. The concrete floor he was sitting on was freezing cold, making a shiver run up his spine. Len jerked at the chains a couple of times, but they wouldn't budge. Hearing a noise from the other side of the room, Len turned his head and instantly regretted it. There was a man standing behind a long metal table. It was what was on the table, however, that made Len want to lose his breakfast. Laying on the table was a very obviously dead man. He was naked and his throat had been slit. To Len's horror, the man behind the table grabbed a chain saw, turning it on. He smiled a sickening smile and began dismembering the body. Len felt dizzy and, at that point, couldn't hold it back any longer. He leaned as far over as the chains would allow and promptly vomited. Seeing the movement, the man looked up and smiled evilly at Len.

"You're awake." he said. "Good." He moved around the table taking off bloody gloves and apron that Len hadn't even realized he was wearing. The man walked to the front of, what seemed to be a garage. He grabbed a water hose and turned it on, bringing it over. Len also hadn't realized that he had been stripped down to his boxer-briefs until the freezing water hit bare skin. Len spluttered as the water pounded his skin raw. Finally, after he was shivering painfully, the water was turned off.

"Now, you can call me Master. You'll be staying here for a while." He looked behind him at the body on the table. "Your behavior will determine how long your stay is." Len scowled and spit water out of his mouth.

"Fuck you!" he growled. Master laughed.

"Feisty, I like it." Walking to one of the walls, Master grabbed a cattle prod. Keeping it on and aimed at Len, he unchained his hands and grabbed him by the arm, leading him toward a small door at the back of the garage. There was a set of stairs leading down into the ground. Len noticed all of the walls were made of rock. It was like the place was carved right into a mountain. At the foot of the stairs there was a long hallway. There were 'cells' on either side, all with heavy wooden and iron doors. One of the doors was open and Len was shoved into the tiny room. The door was slammed and locked behind him. The small iron window on the door slid open so that Master could speak to him.

"I only have two rules. Be a good boy. And, don't speak or yell for help. There is none coming." with that, Master left. Len crossed the room and sat on the small dingy bed, putting his head in his hands. There was no way in hell that the team was going to find him now.

~x~x~x~

"Gideon, what's the date on the newspaper and crime scene photos?" Rip asked. He had been pacing around the console and was beginning to get dizzy.

"August 3rd, 2010 and October 15th, 2010."

"So, a little over two months."

"Can't we just go back before he gets abducted?" Mick asked.

"Unfortunately, that won't work. Mr. Snart didn't exist in that time period before he was dropped off. We can assume he wasn't there long before he was abducted. No, we'll have to attempt to go to somewhere within that two month window. With the damage to the ship, I cannot be exact in when we get there. Let's hope it's in time."

~x~x~x~

As soon as the ship landed and was cloaked, everyone made their way into the forest and toward the city. Once there, Rip grabbed a newspaper. September 20th, 2010.

"He's been held captive for over a month. Mr. Palmer, you and I are going to head to the Sheriff's Office. You'll be needing this." He handed Ray an FBI identification badge. "Everyone else, branch out. Ask around. Ms. Lance, stay with Mr. Rory, please."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Mick said angrily.

"No, you do." Rip said offhandedly. "You're much more emotionally involved in this case than the rest of us. We've all seen how you handle emotion." with that, he walked away, Ray in tow.

They headed straight for the Sheriff's Office. Once there, they walked in and brandished their fake IDs.

"I'm Agent Johnson and this is Agent Lines. We heard you have a serial killer on the loose. We're here to help." he told the man at the front desk. The man blinked a minute before picking up the phone and calling the Sheriff. The door to the back offices opened and a large, grim-looking man stepped out.

"I hear you're here to help with our problem."

"Yes. I believe my colleague and I can provide some much needed assistance." The Sheriff, Sheriff Johnson, from what his badge said, motioned for them to follow him through the door he had arrived through. When they walked into the work room, the first thing they noticed was a large board at the back. The sketch of Len was hanging at the top, along with crime scene photos from more of the killer's murders.

"How long has the killer been at large?" Rip asked. Sheriff Johnson sighed.

"For about a year, as far as we know. Hell, could be longer, that's just when we became privy to it."

"How many victims have there been?" Ray asked.

"Thirty-two." The man answered immediately. He then turned to the board and looked at the sketch of Len. "Thirty-three." he corrected. "There could be more, though. We know he keeps them for about two months before killing them. He then dismembers the bodies and drops the pieces off in the woods near Squaw Creek. Hence the name." Walking over to the board, Johnson points to Len's picture. "This is John Doe. Nobody can identify him, but a woman saw him being forced into a white cargo van. We were able to get her to work with a sketch artist."

"What's her name? We would like to speak with her." Rip announced.

As they were walking to the witnesses house, Ray posed a question.

"In the crime scene photos Gideon showed us, Leonard wasn't dismembered. Why?" Rip looked at his companion.

"Something must have taken him by surprise. Maybe a heat of the moment decision."

~x~x~x~

"Let me out!" Len began screaming at the top of his lungs. "Hey!" He kept yelling until he was going hoarse.

"Shh." came a quiet voice from somewhere down the hall. It wasn't Master's voice. Shocked, Len raced to the door, trying to slide open the little window.

"Hey! Who are you? My name is Leonard Snart."

"Michael Valdez." his voice was shaky and quiet. To Len's surprise, however, another voice came quietly from down the hall.

"I'm Jason Alexander." Then another.

"Ryan Holcomb." And another.

"Alex Fernman." Shocked to his core, Len took a step back from the door. There were four other men that this psycho was holding captive. The gravity of the situation finally hit him and he wished nothing more than to be back in 2016 with Mick. Mick. He was never going to see him again. He had hoped that he could go back and pick his partner up after they finished off Savage. Now, Mick would think he had abandoned him for good. Tears began to well up in Len's eyes. He would never have the chance to tell him... Suddenly, the door to his cell slammed open and Master appeared, jolting Len from his thoughts.

"I thought I told you to be quiet!" came the growl. Master pulled a cattle prod from behind his back and turned it on. He then used it to shock Len, who screamed in pain and fell to the ground. While Len was temporarily occupied, Master put down the cattle prod and began beating and kicking him. He smiled gleefully as blood splattered his clothes and Len grunted and groaned. After pummeling the man for a while, Master picked Len's bloody form up and threw him on the bed. Removing his clothes as he went, he walked toward the bed and, once he was nude, climbed on top on Len.

"I'll teach you to be a good boy, yet." he whispered maliciously in Len's ear. Because of the beating he had taken, Len was unable to do anything to fight back as he was brutally and mercilessly raped. At one point, Master wrapped his large hand around Len's neck as he thrust into him over and over. Tears were streaming down Len's face and he was struggling to breathe. He finally blacked out, the last thought on his mind that he wished he could see Mick one last time before he died.