A/N: Not much to say here, just that school has started so new chapters may be a little slower than normal. College steals your soul, yo. Now, please enjoy.

Oh. And this chapter may contain content that could be offensive to some? Maybe? I dunno. I warned you either way though. Now, please enjoy.

"Let me out of here!"

The heat surrounding the young Molly Hardt was unbearable, the flames licking at the room around her, a small roar building in the background, surrounded by the constant crackle of fire absorbing all in its path. Fists pounded relentlessly against the hard metal door, thuds and bangs echoing throughout the room loudly, barely pushing through the hissing and popping of danger.

The smoke in the room was killing her, both figuratively and literally; she could feel her lungs becoming more damaged and raw with each and every breath that she took, every gasp of what should have been life giving oxygen instead stinging like a chest full of broken glass. The heat kissed her skin, leaving the young girl covered in a sheen of sweat from her forehead down, her clothes practically dripping.

"Please, please! Help! Let me out, let me out!"

Molly continued to scream, her words coming out choked and raspy. She begged, pounding harder on the door. Her fists ached against the metal door, but still she smashed them into it, seeking any kind of relief from the flames that threatened to consume her.

Starved of oxygen, her legs gave out. Her body crashed down to the cold floor, pain surged throughout her body, shooting from her rear and up into her spine. She let out a whimper, leaning against the door that kept her captured here in danger. The air was mildly more breathable this close to the floor, but it didn't matter. The flames continued to dance ever closer, moving like a living creature, creeping across the ground like a waltz, each step bringing her closer to death.

Molly closed her eyes, knowing it was going to hurt. Her arms lifted weakly to protect her face, and she whined softly, giving in to her fate. The flames surged one final time, and the fire consumed her.

…

Molly jumped with a shout, jerking upright from where she'd been sleeping. Eyes wild, breathing quick and heavy, the girl looked around the room, surveying its current state of flame, or lack thereof.

Only a dream…

Molly reached up to touch her forehead, noting the beads of sweat that were gathering, her lungs still struggling to find the breath that they so desperately needed. Biting her lip, Molly curled up against her knees, hiding away from the world and letting out a few well needed tears. She didn't sob, didn't whimper, just let the salty drops of water quietly roll off of her cheeks.

Ten days.

Molly had been locked in this prison for ten long days, and every single one was just as bad as the first. Sure, they'd thrown her a pillow and blanket, and at least the men didn't take her on her bathroom trips anymore, but she was still forced here against her will, fed enough to keep her alive, but not enough to keep her comfortable.

Her mind wandered back to yesterday, and to the strange way that her caretaker had lingered after the bathroom break. It wasn't the first time; she had done it more frequently since the first time - she always stayed by the door, never actually entered the room, never told Molly her name… All she ever really did was make sure that she was okay and tell her to hang on a little longer; "they only needed to make sure she wasn't a threat."

"Assholes," she muttered, wiping her cheeks on the back of her sleeve. Idly, Molly wondered whether it was the same woman who had swung the slight amenities for her, or if perhaps they were all as "kind" as she was.

How much longer would it be until they trusted her not to be a threat? After all, she was a sixteen year old girl who was basically defenseless. What did they possibly think that she could do to them? Hell, they'd taken her only real defense - Molly wondered whether her Maril was safe. Had they done anything to her, or was she okay? Just resting in her pokeball somewhere?

Molly was in the midst of letting out a heavy sigh of annoyance when there was a knock on the door. The girl looked up, a slight smile coming to her face. It was bathroom time again. She stood and began to approach the wall, but before she could the door swung open; in its open frame stood a towering, familiar frame. She froze. Her limbs would not move as the man staggered inside, slamming the door closed behind him with a kick.

"Well, h'llo there, li'l girly," he said with a grin, stepping closer to her. Molly could smell the alcohol on him from there and took a step back, stumbling back onto her bed with a thud. He smirked, continuing to walk until he was right in front of her. "C'mon now, don't be afraid o' me." He reached down and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, causing her to wince, a soft whine coming from the back of her throat.

She was shaking, her breathing slow and barely there. Leaning away from him, Molly looked down, curling up against her knees. "Please," she began, biting her lip. "Please leave…" She could hear him laughing, feel his hand grasp her by the chin, pulling her head up to look at him.

"I told you not to be afraid o' me, alright?" The man shifted, sliding down onto the bed next to her. "Now why don't you just gimme a kiss, huh?" He leaned at her, face coming close to hers. Molly leaned further away, but his grip on her face was strong. She shouted once, struck out against him, but compared to his mountain of a stature, there was nothing that she could do to get him off of her.

His lips mashed roughly against hers, hard and painful. She pushed against him, tried to turn away from him, but there was nothing she could do to get out of his grasp. She could feel his other hand wandering her body - she felt the fabric of her shirt tearing under his rough, strong hands.

"Please, please stop it!" Molly pulled against him again and pushed his chest hard, trying to shove him off of her. She yelped out in pain as his grip on her jaw strengthened. She was pushed away, and the man let out a painful growl, hand releasing her just long enough to send a sharp backhand into her cheek, sending her sprawling out on the floor.

Molly held her face in disbelief, crawling slowly backwards as the man stood, towering over her prone form, hands going to his belt. "I'ma enjoy this, you li'l bitch…" Before Molly could let out the scream that she was preparing, there was a crash and voices filled the room. Looking over to the door, the man cursed loudly, hands coming up to his defense. "Hey now, I di'nt even touch her," he tried, taking a step back.

There was a loud growling, followed by a sharp order. "Force Palm."

The man backed up again, bumping into the bed and falling onto his rear. "Hold on now, we can talk -" he was cut off by a blue blur flying into him. There was a pause as the man let out a loud "oof," and then there was a pulse of light that sent the man slamming into the wall behind him violently, falling face down onto the floor with a thump.

Molly blinked in confusion, looking up at the Lucario that stood over the man, still growling. There was another curse, and Molly recognized the woman from before stepping into view. She bent down and took Molly in her arms, hoisting her to a standing position. "Are you okay?" the woman asked, checking her over, noting the bruise on her cheek. "You're bleeding. Did you hit your head?"

Molly blinked again, unable to speak. The woman frowned, pulling her against her side to support some of the dizzy girl's weight. "Come on, let's get that bandaged up." As they stepped outside, the woman paused to enter the lock code for the cell, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry that he touched you. I thought I was watching better than that."

They walked for a moment before entering a small room. The woman placed Molly on a small wooden bench before turning to grab a box off of one of the shelves. She popped it open and grabbed a few things from it, talking while she did, but Molly was too numb to hear the words, or feel whatever it was that she was doing to her head.

Her mind was still back in that room, remembering the monster that had attacked her, and her savior who came in the form of another one of her captors - also known as the last place that she would've expected help to come from. Molly's arms slowly wrapped around herself; her knees curled up, bringing her to something reminiscent of the fetal position.

Sometime ago she'd begun to shake, though the exact moment when couldn't be recalled by the poor girl. Vaguely, Molly became aware of a hand on her cheek; she began to flinch, but this touch was soft and unlike the one before - it felt like compassion and sympathy instead of… the other things…

The girl looked up slowly, eyes glazed over, not feeling the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, not seeing the woman that was staring back at her. Slowly, the tears turned to full sobs, and Molly's world turned black, as she went limp against her captor.

A/N: I hope that you enjoyed. Please leave a review with your thoughts, questions, and criticisms.