Chapter 8
Burning Pain
I woke up with a throbbing head ache.
The only thing that I could comprehend was that I was hand cuffed to a cold metal chair.
I opened my eyes but my vision was blurred and all I could make out was the walls of a small grey room.
There were no windows or doors that I could see.
It was empty besides the chair and me.
Suddenly I could hear the scraping of a lock being drawn back from across the room.
Finally my vision started to clear.
Two big, strong men walked in followed by the leader from yesterday.
The two men stood either side of the door, making it clear what would happen if I tried to escape as they flashed the guns tucked in their belts.
The leader walked towards me.
I tried to lean away from him but he grabbed my hair and pulled me forward so my face was inches away from his.
I struggled but he hit me in the head with a gun.
I felt the trickle of blood slide down my cheek.
I started to feel ill.
"Why do you want me?" I muttered. "What's so special about me?"
He stroked my cheek. "Everything is special about you darling. You're a pavement artist, a CIA legacy but most importantly you are Chris's daughter. He said as long as his family was going to be safe he didn't care about dying but now it doesn't matter because I found you in the end."
I winced as he hit me again.
"Believe me you will die a slow and painful death, just like your father."
"But why?" I yelled.
"Because your father betrayed me and I want to hurt the person he held most dear and that my sweet happens to be you." He sneered.
Suddenly everything around me faded away. Nothing mattered any more because I found out who killed my dad and I know half the reason why. I can't help but thinking that died for nothing because now I am going to die anyway.
I am going to be tortured at the hands of the same man who hurt my father.
It's ironic really.
I was brought back to earth by a searing pain in my upper arm.
I screamed and looked down; he had pressed a piece of white hot metal to my arm. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.
"It would be wise to listen to me from now on unless of course you want that to happen again." He smirked evilly.
"You can't do this!" I yelled. "You will get caught and they will kill you."
He chuckled lightly and my heart dropped. Somehow I knew I wouldn't live long enough to see someone come for me.
He pressed the metal to my skin once again, this time to my stomach. He held it there for 1 and ½ minutes as I screamed in agony.
Blisters formed immediately and all he did was laugh.
"I will see you again soon my dear." He said as I slipped into unconsciousness.