So, this chapter is another one of those things that I don't care to right about. I have no experience in being tortured nor the art of it.

Be warned that I may well have butchered it in my attempt to keep myself sane.

WARNING: This chapter contains depressing scenes where Rose is in pain. Do not read if you feel for the characters too much.

Disclaimer: Me ish not Richelle Mead. Stop asking.

I held back a scream and lashed out at Victor. Immediately, there were five men on me, pinning my arms. Rope was tied around them and I was hauled up by my wrists. Feeling weak and defenceless with my hands tied, I reflexively kicked out with my legs, hitting something solid that gave and fell to the floor. A quick and painful pressure on my stomach made me collapse, yelling out. My ankles were tied. Damn it. They pulled me up to my feet and dragged me to a wall.

"Rose, if you had just cooperated this would all be so much easier." I snorted. He ignored me. "Now," he pulled out a video camera, playing with it in his hands. He turned it on, fiddled with some settings and then moved it to my face, a red flashing light indicating it was recording. "What was it you wanted to say to the camera?"

My head was held straight so I couldn't move it, my back resting against a cold, stone wall. A hook was in place where my wrists hung above my head, my feet almost flat against the ground. I saw in my peripheral a man with a shaved head holding a shining army knife in his hand with a wicked smile on his face. I took a deep breath, knowing what was going to happen after I said it, or rather what I didn't say. "Victor Dashkov is the flaming terd on fire who killed the Qu-" I burning sensation engulfed my cheek as the force of the slap made my face turn and smack against the wall. So much for my face restraint. My head throbbed where it had made contact with the wall and I already felt the forming of a bump.

"Want to try again?" Victor asked with a smirk. He knew I wasn't going to give in easy and he was enjoying the game.

"No, not really." A punch to the gut made me curl forward, gasping, my legs coming up as far as they could without putting too push pressure on my wrists. This was nothing I wasn't used to. Really, when were they going to get to the good stuff? Hopefully not for a while.

"Mmm?" I looked up to see the camera still fixed on me. I straightened up as much as I could and looked Victor in the eye, putting as much venom into my gaze as possible. "Come on, Hathaway, give us a good show."

"The only good show is seeing you getting executed, you as-" I clamped my mouth shut to stop myself from crying out as I felt a thin line of agonizing pain stream down the top of my calf from just below my knee to just above my ankle restraints. Well, at least they didn't seem to be aiming for my Achilles tendon. But maybe that was for later.

Guess we were getting to the good stuff.

Victor's smirk began to grow. "It's alright, Rose, you can scream." Maybe I'll just say silent.

And silent I stayed.

The less I said, the more it seemed to anger Victor. He kept trying to taunt me but I knew the moment my mouth opened I would let out a scream or a stream of swears. The tears welling in my eyes begged me to release my pain in the form of noise but I knew that that was what Victor wanted. I knew the moment the screams were over, I'd say I killed the Queen just to have him kill me, to end the pain of red-hot pokers on my skin, scarring my legs, my stomach, my arms.

I'd beg him to stop the knife from opening the tender veins in my body, causing them to sting and bleed out, slowly dripping down onto the floor and giving me the only warmth in this chilling room.

If I had a closer relationship with God, I might pray for Victor to stop the abuse that made bruises erupt in ways I'd never felt before. Anything to stop the feeling of becoming a piece of human paper, cut and crumpled again and again and again to no mercy.

I'd plead for a mercy that will never come.

And so I stay silent through it all.

And Victor was right. That little nap kept me awake. Not that I'd be able to sleep anyways.

The day went by slowly, filled only with sizzles and smells of burnt skin, the horrific smooth sound of a gleaming blade becoming stained red and the insistent words of Victor, trying to get me to open my mouth. My eyes stay fixed on a crack in one of the stones as I refused to succumb to the need to close them. Tears ran freely down my face, mixing with blood to become a faded pink. I didn't sob. Victor moved close to me, standing in front of my face, watching my blank face for something. "Look at me." I continued to look at the crack. What would happen if I made it bigger? Would the whole building collapse in on me? "LOOK AT ME!" he screamed, jerking my face directly in his. I stared at him defiantly. His voice softened. "You might as well give up now. You know that at some point you'll confess and you know this will continue until you do. You'll die in a lot less pain." I resisted the urge to laugh hysterically, because that's really all there was left of me, and instead built up a mixture of saliva and blood in my mouth and spat in his face. I smiled. He brought up a hand to a long cut in my cheek and placed a hand on it. It stung slightly but still I smiled. He returned it, my spit slowly succumbing to gravities pull downwards. Sharp, indescribable pain covered my face as his hand and nails dug into my already ruined skin. I let out a small almost inaudible cry but he heard it and that was enough. He let his hand fall and he stepped back, whipping the blood and spit on a towel behind him. "We shall continue tomorrow then, now that we've made some progress."

They all left, leaving me strung up. My body hurt. Everything was stiff. My stomach grumbled. I didn't dare try to move, for fear of causing another shooting pain to cascade through me. I stayed silent. My face stayed blank. I had to hold out, just until Adrian and Abe and, pain shot through my heart as well, Dimitri. I still didn't know about Dimitri. Drunk, angry, messed up, hot, caring and infuriating Dimitri. He didn't even give me best wishes like my father. Maybe me being gone was just a perfect excuse for him to go back to Russia or go back to Lissa. Thinking of Lissa reminded me that I hadn't been in her head for a while. I missed her but didn't feel as if I had the energy to take on whatever was going on back wherever she was. She was probably freaking out over me and I don't think I could take that.

No.

I'll just hang here and hope I die of bleeding out before morning. But, of course, it's not going to happen. They didn't hit any vital arteries. They didn't cut deep. Already my wounds were clotting, leaving me with itchy dried blood and weak scabs. I was cold and had barely any clothing left clinging on me. They were all torn or burned. At least I could be thankful that these guys only seemed interested in causing me physical pain rather than anything else.

Sleep called to me but it didn't come for a long time. Instead, I got to stand there, suffering in mind and body. But finally, slowly, my eyes sagged closed and my mind drifted until unconsciousness swept over my, pulling me into a blissful sleep.

Adrian popped in, but only for a minute to tell me they'd located about five locations that matched my description. Hopefully, they'd be here soon.

But I still didn't have the name. And that was what I needed. Dear Mystical possible being in the sky, please let them stay away until I get what I need. I hope I'm still alive at that point.

Gahhhhhhhhh, so sad, so short.

If anyone is good at writing these things, feel free to PM me a scene to save me from having to pull up my sadistic side of me (though I know some of you love it)

Is it sad that I went through all of this only to figure out that this might as well be a filler chapter for all the plot that managed to make it's way through?

Anyways, REVIEW! Pllllease?

This story continues to surprise me with things I never planned until the chapter becomes written, and still it is not planned D:

xoxo Darla