(to make this scene more realistic, go to YouTube and listen to 'Minecraft Calm 2 Music 10 HOURS'. No, minecraft has nothing to do with the scene, but I was listening to it while I was writing the first part of the chapter, and I thought it suited the mood of it.)

The wooden chair creaked as her body moved. Hands tied behind her back, there was nothing, nobody, who could save her now. She was a lost cause, a mistake, as they as said it.

She shifted in the chair again, making her broken nose bleed more, if that was even possible. Her bleeding legs and upper arms throbbed from the constant rubbing of the rope. She shifted her feet this time. This wooden chair is not anywhere near comfortable. I need like, a La-z-boy or something. She thought. She searched her thoughts for any hint of humor in them, but realized it was no use. She was never getting out of this, no matter how much humor she tried to have.

The room wasn't much bigger than her house back in Baskerville. The ceiling was almost twenty feet up, then stopped. Lights would flicker constantly, but they were just to far up for any of them to change them. Back on the ground, storage boxes lined the sides of the wall, the closest ones to her only coming maybe five feet of the wall. She noticed them familiar scrape of shoes on concrete. Rats maybe. Or, a more obvious theory, the soldiers positioned behind the boxes, guarding their prize.

She was positioned in the off-black wooden chair that sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by the small bombs positioned in a circle around her seat, under the flooring. She knew where all of them were, for she had witnessed them place the tiny death devices. They made sure she saw them put them there, to make sure her stupid person wouldn't kill herself trying to escape. She wanted out though. She wanted someone to walk through here, step on the makeshift floor, and kill her.

Although she didn't have anything to do while she waiting in the cold, dark, room; She still tried to do things that would make her... less depressed. Maybe, touched her left thumb and right first finger together and see how long it took before the pain was too much to take. Or, try to reached her auburn hair and take out the twigs, leaves, blood clots that annoyed her when they rubbed up against her face. Try to get her knees to peel of the black tape that was over her mouth. Sometimes, just staring straight ahead was all she could do to keep herself sain.

She didn't know how long it was, two days? Two months? But, finally, the hardly noticable door on the other side of the room, opened. A man stepped in, bearing a gun in one hand, a knife in the other. His rusty blond hair was now a shade of orange. His lean figure was muscular and toned. Cuts and scrapes engulfed his body. He's the one they where talking about. They wanted him. She was only bait, a crippled worm tied to a dropped fishing rod.

She knew he would come. She knew he would come when she sent the letter they made her write. But, she knew he would come any way, letter or not.

Her senses kicked in, knowing how much danger he was in right now, knowing his death she would have to witness.

She tried to shout out 'stop!', bounce in her chair, make some signal to him. But she just sat their, staring up at him, bright blue eyes wide with fear. Finally, he saw her. Hazel eyes connected with her blue ones.

Then she saw the first sign.

A dark figure rose from behind, pointing an object at him. Her eyes widened a fraction, which was all he needed to notice. He hastily turned and shot the first bullet. It spun and hit the soldier in the neck. He fell. The next one stepped up and shot three bullets, all of them hitting him. He managed to stay upright and shot at the next two attackers.

Five feet.

He again made eye contact with her, and made his way over.

Four feet.

His steps echoed off the pavement, but she knew both of them were already dead.

Three feet.

She had kept track of the bombs. The closest one to him was-

Two feet.

He shot another bullet, this time upwards in victory. The others were here. Oh god.

One foot.

She managed to close her eyes, and smile. She wished she had a bullet to fire up in victory.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Click.

Everything happened at once. Her hair flew backwards first, then her head turned side ways. The dabries flew into her hands, feet, face, anywhere that was exposed. Her chair broke apart instantly, but she couldn't make the escape even if she wanted to.

For she was already dead.

~(*)~

My eyes opened.

See? This is what happens if I try to sleep. But one good thing had come out of this horrifying dream.

I knew where we had to go.

Ellenagro. The small town just outside Baskerville was the perfect place to set my dream. I just hope the dream wasn't actually real.

I mean, of course, I'm always itching for a fight but, seeing an innocent girl die? Not my style.

"Max?"

The tiny voice woke me from my some-what conciousness.

"Yeah?"

A small blond head stuck her way through my door.

"You okay?"

I had retreated to my room after the little fiasco downstairs, despite everyone's protests. I had also forgotten to clean my hand up, so know I have blood stains on my white bed sheets. My head had throbd, I felt sick to my stomach, and I ruined the party. Not that I had been invited or anything. I'd been up here for about forty-five minutes before I started to feel drowsy. So, I had climbed into bed, and before I knew it, Some girl was dying.

"Max."

Oh yeah. Angel.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay Ang. Thanks for checking on me."

She smiled, probably feeling like she'd accomplished something major, or something. She skipped down the hallway.

"Cool!" A muffled voice came from downstairs.

"Whats so cool?" Nudges voice drifted through my door.

There was a silence that probably held by Gazzy pointing a finger at the source of the 'cool'.

"Whoa. Thats amazing."

"Knock, knock." I smiled

"Who's there?" The other side of the door chuckled

"Me."

"Me who?"

"Me says, If your up to it, you might just want to see this." Fang stuck his head around my door. I frowned.

"I don't get it." He cracked one of his to-die-for grins. I almost melted on the spot.

My legs swung over the side of my bed. I stood up and made my way to my closet. Quickly, I changed into some shorts and a tee, then went downstairs. Everyone was crowded around the small 24-inch flat screen LG we had on the coffee table. It's the only nice thing we have.

Nudge waved me over.

"Oh em gee Max, you have GOT to see this. I came downstairs when you were still sleeping and Angel and Gazzy were watching it and Gazzy was all like 'Cool!' and I was all like 'Whats so cool', ya know? Then I saw the screen and it was all like AWMAAZING! I don't even see HOW it's amazing. It just is. It's like, like, I saw it and I was like 'oo this is amaZING!'. Why are things amazing? Are they like recorded into our minds like choco-"

"Nudge PLEASE! My ears are bleeding!" Iggy clamped a hand over Nudge's mouth. Nudge made a muffled 'sorry' and looked back to the screen.

It was the news.

'Really guys? The news? It's on like every day!' I wanted to say, but then I saw what they were really talking about. It was the most horrifying thing I would ever witness.

"and they were all rescued. Back to you Barb."

"Thanks Deanne. For all of you who are joining us today, there has been a recent bomb explosion just east of Baskerville New Jersey, in a town called Ellenagro."

A map of New Jersey popped up behind her and zoomed in on one particular part.

"Inhabited by just over two thousand citizens, Not many were injured. We believe that the bombing was a murderse act of treason, under a secret organization. We also believe that there were just four killed in the explosion, three of which, were spies. The other, a young girl, just over the age of fourteen. The four may or may not be dead, but we do believe they are.

One of our many news helicopters did record a man fleeing the scene, trailed by five others. We don't know how they survived, but we do believe those six did cause the explosion."

The woman moved out of the way so they could show the film of the explosion. It looked like a huge nuclear explosion. The film was taken from an odd angle too, like the camera was being pulled backwards. Gazzy stood up and yelled 'woohoo!'

"See Max! That explosion is amazing!" Everyone nodded in agreement. Except me.

"Max, you okay?" Fang put his hand on my shoulder. Despite the sparks tracing through my body at his soft touch, I shook my head.

I wasn't okay. I possibly would never be okay. My dream, was real.

Yeah, not the best chapter, but it'll do. They'll gradually start to get longer as the action infects my story. I go to finish this because I'm home sick, so, yeah.

Btw, I own no Charcters in this story. Mostly. Like, Half of them are James Patterson's and the other half is mostly my lovely reviewer's. I have like, 10 that submitted characters that I actually chose. But besides all of them, the rest are mine. That measly 1%.

So, from me and all my lovely reviewer, this is, good bbbyyyyyyeeeeee!

-B

P.s. If you're wondering, no, I haven't killed anyone off yet. Just wait.

SPOILER ALERT!