Disclaimer: I only own Emily
Warning: Rated M, for abuse and adult content.
Feedback: A little constructive feedback would be nice. For my new readers, I hope you enjoy and for those of you who read the old version, I do hope you like this one better. Please let me know.
**This takes place before Red Canyon because otherwise things get far too confusing. So, Enjoy!
Warning: Mac only makes a brief appearance here. But this chapter is a necessary bridge to build on the story.

"...Yeah, Cut right into me
Yeah, Cause I am Made Of Scars
Yes I am made of scars

This one had it coming
This one found a vein
This one was an accident, but never gave me pain..."

-Stonesour 'Made of Scars'

The darkness seemed never-ending at it obliterated all knowledge of time and space. There she remained locked inside her own mind, the memory of her near escape taunted her. It played in a quivering loop and reminded her of a bad film. Whenever the silhouette appeared in the cave entrance, the film would began to jolt. Mac did not walk over to her and kick her in the temple. He would jump forward, never moving his feet. Although she never saw his face, his dark blue eyes haunted her with that piercing glare of lustfulness. She could feel them staring at her from the darkness and when she tried to yell for help, no sound came out. Emily knew this was a nightmare but she could not seem to wake. Again Mac morphed from the darkness like the boogieman coming to get her but this monster only came to bruise her flesh repeatedly.
The cuts on her body felt like they were being reopened over and over again. They suddenly hurt twice as much as they did before and when she felt a sharp pain in the on her thigh, she cried out. From all around her light seemed to pour in as she slowly began to open her eyes. A fuzzy figure hovered over her leg and they were pulling at the gash on her thigh. Emily winced and then felt another sharp pain before she was forced back into the dark. A thousand tiny bees stung her temple and a boa began to coil around her ribs. This nightmare was gaining weirdness with every passing second. Everything began to spin and the repetitive film started collapsing. She panicked as the floor beneath her fell, taking her with it.

A blast of light hit her and her eyes shot open. Emily tried to pull her hands down to steady herself but they refused to move. The whole world was fuzzy and would not stop spinning. She felt her stomach lurch and something was shoved under her chin. A hand cupped the back of her head as bile and blood (mostly blood) came rushing from her mouth. Her ribs throbbed in protest and her diaphragm screamed in pain from the sudden exertion. When she finally stopped hurling, she felt the object under her chin move. Then something glass touched her lips and a voice said 'It's water'. She allowed them to help her get the cool liquid into her mouth. Again they spoke 'Go ahead and spit. I got the bucket'. She did and the sound of it hitting her vomit made her queasier. The blur was beginning to clear as it moved the bucket and wiped her mouth with a wet cloth.

Emily blinked her eyes a couple of times before her vision finally cleared. Standing beside the bed was a man a few years younger than Mac. He had short dark hair and bright green eyes. This one was soft spoken and did not seem to carry their violent nature. She slowly began to look around the room. The scenery around her was an improvement from the tomb like environment of the cavern (not by much though). It was a bedroom with peeling yellow wallpaper decorating the walls and hideous, fading, flower curtains on the single window. There was a half bent shade drawn closed over the little portal that sat on the eastern wall. A broken dresser sat in one corner next to what she assumed was the bathroom door. Its only closed over flowed with clothing of all types. One single lamp sat on the nightstand and cast a dim glow through out the room. But to her overly sensitive vision, it was like daylight. The absolute worst part about this place was the smell. It obviously was not Mac's but it smelled just the same.

However, the details of her environment were not as important as the position she found herself in. Emily could feel the cloth restraints tied around her bandaged wrists and secured to the metal headboard. There was a cast on her left ankle, a bandage on her head, a bandage on her thigh, her ribs were wrapped and the rest of her gashes were covered by gauze. On the nightstand beside her were several bloody gauze pads, a pair of bloody rubber gloves, alcohol, a curved needle and thread. Just barely hidden beside them sat a small glass vile with several capped syringes. She swallowed, exhaling slow in an attempt to keep her stomach calm. Then she tried to speak.
"Wh-huts in...the...vile?"
"Morphine. It was all I had to numb the gash on your leg."

After a couple more slow breaths she spoke.

"My...sto...st...stomach-"
"Don't try to talk," He moved beside her. "You're-" She flinched when he touched her. He looked into her eyes. "I'm not gonna hurt you Emily. Okay?"

She nodded.

"I want to make sure you don't have a fever. I'll have to keep checking you for signs of infection."

His hands were soft as they touched her neck.

"Good."

She opened her mouth to speak.

"No, you don't need to talk. I'll get you something to settle your stomach."

At this point she felt like a sick child and she had to resist the urge to pout. She managed one word though.

"Name?"

He sighed like a mother would to a child after she had just told them to go to sleep.

"Devon. Not no more talking or you will be sick again."

It was about twenty minutes before Devon returned with a bowl of what looked like soup. She hoped that he did not intend to spoon feed her like a helpless child. He brushed the bloody gauze pads and gloves into a trash can that sat beside the nightstand. Then he set the bowl down on top and sat on the edge of the bed. The smell of chicken drifted up to her nostrils and her stomach gurgled with hunger before turning with nausea. For a second Devon just sat there, he seemed to be contemplating something. Finally he turned to her, a look of worry and sorrow on his face.

"If I untie you and let you feed yourself, do you promise to be good?"

She resisted the urge to be a smart ass and sighed slowly to keep her stomach calm.

"As long as Mac doesn't come in here. Yes."

"He's busy right now. So he won't be back for a while."

Devon carefully untied her wrists and helped her sit up. As she did, the sensitive tissue below her waist, rubbed slightly and she hissed in pain. During his last assault he must have torn her inner walls because lightning bolts of pain shot through her womanhood. The realization of the damage he had inflicted, finally hit her and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. She would not cry because of him, never again.

"You ok? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I'm all right." She lied.

He slowly handed her the bowl of warm soup. It felt heavier than it should, her body was weaker than she had realized. Emily carefully began to reintroduce her body to food. The soup felt like glass as it descended into her stomach and then it burned when it reached its destination. She winced in pain and pulled her bowl away from herself. Devon quickly took it from her, leaning over her to comfort her. One hand gently touched her now relocated shoulder.

"I know it hurts. You have severe damage to your abdomen. But without food, you'll continue to feel queasy and your body will not have the energy it needs to repair its self."

The abuse and the pain of the abuse she could handle. However, she had not counted on the aftermath. Every inch of her body hurt in one way or another and now she had to endure more pain to keep from experiencing severe pain. 'Well, this sucks.' Emily waved her left hand, gesturing for him to hand her the bowl. Then she forced herself to ignore the glass and fire feeling every time she swallowed. When the bowl was half empty, she handed it back to Devon.

"I can't do anymore. It hurts too much."

He set the bowl down.

"That's all right, you're doing good. A little at a time."

In her upright state, she could finally see all the bandages and the bloody stains on the bed. Her flesh was still covered with dry crusted blood and her inner thighs sported little white crusty trails. She felt the pressure in her bladder warning her that she was close to wetting herself. Emily felt disgusting as she looked her disheveled appearance, she desperately needed to wash.

"Devon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I use the bathroom? I have to pee and I just want to wash up."

He glanced at the door and then back at her before pointing at her.

"All right," His friendly tone replaced by worry. "but make it fast."

Her legs felt like lead as he helped her slide over to the edge of the bed.

"Put your arm around my neck."

She felt him slide his arms under her.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"One...two...three."

With a grunt, he lifted her off the bed and carried her to the bathroom. He set her down as gentle as he could. Emily wobbled a little as her blood rushed from her head and through her legs. But he held onto her until she finally could stand on her own. She grabbed the sink for stability and held onto it as her body waved with notion of too much blood loss. Devon handed her a bar of soap and a clean wash cloth.

"You have ten minutes."

The look in his eyes told her that he was afraid, most likely of Mac.

"Ok."

He left her alone, closing the door behind him. Emily sat the was items in the sink and moved to the toilet. As she relieved herself, her town flesh burned hot from the toxins evacuating her body. She grit her teeth and clinched her fist to deal with the pain. No matter how gentle she was, it still hurt to wipe herself. As she slowly stood, she looked at the inside of her once white panties and saw blood. The bastard had torn her good. There was nothing she could do about it now. So she stood up, ripped the remainder of her clothing off and managed to shimmy out of her bra. Then she limped over to the mirror and surveyed her injuries. A decorative pattern of bruises covered her from head to toe. One eye was partially swollen, her cheek was bandaged, lips were split, and her jaw was bruised all to hell. Not to mention that blood still crusted on her chin. 'Ten minutes. Hurry.' She wet the cloth and lathered it up good before washing the bloody trails off her skin. It felt good to be somewhat cleaner. If her head was not wrapped in gauze, she could have washed her hair. This would have to suffice for now. At least the white evidence of Mac was gone.

Emily turned on the sink, cupping one hand under the water while the other one held onto the sink for stability. She sucked the water from her hand, swishing it around in her mouth before spitting into the sink. The entire movement hurt her jaw all the way up to the top of her ears but she had to get the still lingering taste of blood from her mouth. She poked around at several of her teeth to find out which ones were loose from the constant beatings. There were at least two molars that she pulled from her gums with no protest from their roots. Then she rinsed her mouth again until the taste of copper pennies was finally gone. Emily yanked a clean towel from one of the towel racks and as she was wrapping it around herself, the door opened. Without realizing what she was doing, she jumped back and brought her arm up to shield herself. It was only Devon but he paused when he noticed her reaction. He slowly handed her a pile of clothes.

"These were my sisters but they should fit."

"Thanks."

Then he closed the door. Emily dropped the towel and quickly slipped on the hand-me-downs. The shirt he had given her was large enough to fit over her bandaged ribs. She despised the idea of wearing used underwear but they were at least clean. The pants however took a little maneuvering to get them over her cast and bandaged thigh. Every movement hurt but was well worth it. Just when she finished dressing, the bedroom door slammed open.

"Where tha fuck is she?"

"Mac she's here, she-"

Then she heard a crack and then a thud. She had been around Mac long enough to know what had happened. When she heard the sound of boots heading toward the bathroom she began to back slowly away.

"Why isn't she tied up?!"

"Jesus christ Mac, the girl had to pee."

Emily limped all the way back to the tub. Not was not a good time for a confrontation with Mac. The bathroom door slammed open and in its doorway stood the meth addict who had raped her. He just stood there glaring at her. Then he turned and yanked Devon from the floor, holding him at eye level by his shirt collar.

"She stays tied up until she heals."

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Mac dropped him and turned toward her.

"I ain't done with ya yet. I'll be seeing you soon."

With that he left, slamming the door behind him. Emily limped to the bathroom door and watched as Devon wiped blood from his lip. She didn't wait for him to get up, instead she limped obediently over to the bed and sat down.

"Do what he says. Just do what he says."

There was no fight left in her anymore. She let her caregiver tie her up and then leave. What was the point of fighting anymore? It always ended with misery. So Emily scooted down on the bed and let her body drift off. Now was her golden opportunity to gain some sleep and to get some energy so she might be able to escape from this place. Even as part of her wanted to just give up and stop fighting, another part of her realized that this little Macation (vacation from Mac) was a good thing. All right she would play the weak and helpless for a little bit or she might give in. She was entirely too exhausted to care, sleep was her first step.

"And I will find a way
Everything you are I will betray
Oh, I swear that I will find a way
Everything you are's inside me

This one was the first one
This one had a vice
This one here I like to rub on dark and stormy nights
This one was the last one,
I don't remember how
But I remember blood and rain
AND I NEVER SAW IT COMING AGAIN

Yeah, Cut right into me
Yeah, Cause I am made of scars
Yes, I am made of scars

That's what I'm made of"

Stonesour 'Made of Scars' (Contd.)