Wesley sat in the darkness alone. His eyes were red, though he could not tell, and his face was caked in dry tears. He had lost track of time a while ago; he was all cried out. For a long time, all he could think of was his utter inability to help Kim. The gruesome scene of her untimely death played itself in his head time and time again, each time becoming more emotionally draining. To make matters even worse, the more he tried to think of anything else, the more vivid the images in his head became. It almost seemed as if he was being coerced into having to relive his girlfriend's demise.

Not far away, in a hidden chamber sat Bokor, sitting completely still. He was deep in meditation, concentrating on one thing: Wesley. Through his power, he compelled Wesley to see Kim dying over and over again, without Wesley even realizing it. He stopped, allowing Wesley time to doubt himself, while he himself recovered his energy. At this rate, it would not be long before Wesley was driven to insanity. Once there, Bokor would be able to force Wesley to kill himself, relinquishing his highly coveted powers to the demon, who would then use that added power to escape and claim the lives and powers of Matthew and James. Bokor's ultimate goal, like most demons, was to become the supreme ruler of all evil, and conquering the Complete would grant him unequivocal authority to that title.

"Hello?" Wesley cried out into the darkness. No matter where he looked, there was no discernible source of light coming from any direction.

He fumbled in his pockets, hoping that he had anything that could be of use at that moment. He pulled out his cell phone. Hurriedly pressing buttons, he cursed himself silently for not having charged it earlier. All he had besides the dead phone were his wallet and his keys, as well as chap stick. He blinked his eyes furiously as he rubbed them. He could feel the crust on his face from dried tears. There had to be a way out of here. He just needed to figure out what that way was.

"C'mon Wesley, think," he told himself out loud.

He scratched his head, thinking about ways to escape this place. At the most, he figured, no one really knew his location. Hopefully, enough time had passed for his brothers to realize that something was wrong, but if they had not been able to get to him, how could he possibly reach out to them?

"Whatever happens," he coached himself, "I have to stay positive."

Bokor sat in his dimly lit chamber, chuckling to himself as he heard Wesley convincing himself not to give up. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a sinister grin as he once again went back to work. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on sending his thoughts to Wesley's mind. I can't get out of this place. My brothers will never be able to find me. I'm completely responsible for my girlfriend's death. It's hopeless…

Wesley focused on his room back home, on standing there. He visualized himself moving from where he was to where he wanted to be. He thought about it harder and harder and harder. Suddenly, he felt a force tugging at his body. It seemed to be pulling him in every direction at once. It also seemed to be draining the energy from him. The last thing he saw before he blinked was a burst of blue and white lights…

He opened his eyes again and saw nothing. He was in the exact same place. He could swear that he felt himself glimmer. The problem, though, was that if he had, he did not go anywhere. That would definitely be something to work on when he got out of here…if he got out of here…

A melancholy feeling overcame him, changing his outlook. Once again, he was reliving his girlfriend's death, and nothing else was clear to him. Now, all he could visualize was the scene of Kim being stabbed and him being forced to watch helplessly. Those unwanted familiar feelings came rushing back to the forefront as tears once more fell from his eyes. He felt only despair and sorrow, with no hope of being saved by anyone.

"Kim," he whispered as he cupped his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…I wish I could've done more…"

A slight creaking distracted him. He jerked his head towards the source of the sound. It sounded like a door opening, yet there was no light to verify anything. There was one more creaking sound followed by footsteps. Whoever had walked in was approaching Wesley. Wesley sat on the ground, trying to figure out who was there. He wanted to say something, but he did not want to give himself away either. Hopefully the other person would be there to help him.

Then a feeling of doubt rushed over him. All of a sudden he did not care about being saved. All that mattered was that Kim was dead because of him. His mind continued to play tricks on him as the footsteps grew closer to him.

"Wesley?" a recognizable voice called out. "Wesley are you here? Where are you? It's Matt."

"Matt?" Wesley asked the source of the voice. "Matt get me out of here. Kim's dead and some demons have me trapped in here and I'm going crazy. I can't see anything and I just need to clear my head. Where have y'all been? What took y'all so long?"

"Wesley," the voice said, cutting Wesley off, "I'm not here to help you. You're responsible for killing your girlfriend. You killed her."

"What?" Wesley asked incredulously. "That's not true! I'm telling you what happened!"

"I know what happened…" the voice said, taking on a more menacing tone, "…and it's all your fault."

"My fault," Wesley repeated, the grief reflected in his voice.

He repeated those two words again and again as the voice began to laugh. Wesley did not even notice; he was too caught up in the fact that he was solely accountable for the death of his girlfriend. The sadness gradually increased in its intensity and he relinquished control of his senses long enough for the mysterious person to slip and blindfold around his face and bind his hands with thick rope. Before he knew it, he was alone again and his mind was clear.