A/N: WARNING – Chapter Rated M. I had a very hard time writing this, so if you don't have a tough stomach, you SHOULD SKIP THIS CHAPTER. Plenty of bad language and mostly DARK scenes. You've been warned.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to Richelle Mead.

The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by Ms. Belikov. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.

Previously on Saving Me…

Much later, just as the sun was setting and it was about time to head in for the night, I wrapped up the fishing poles and straightened up so that my father didn't have to and he could rest during the trip back to shore. He looked so peaceful sleeping, and I hated to wake him because I knew how hard he worked.

I was just about to turn the keys in the ignition when something glinted in my peripheral vision, catching my attention. I glanced over. It was the lockbox. The one my father had sternly told me to stay away from when he'd caught me trying to pick the lock yesterday.

The bad girl in me and the burning curiosity wouldn't allow me to just walk away, so I snatched the ring of keys from the ignition and went to work. Countless, unsuccessful attempts later, I chucked them down in frustration. Then a light bulb went off in my head.

Tiptoeing over, I crouched down and patted each of my father's pockets. Bingo. It was in his left one. Very slowly, I fished in and grabbed the key, wincing when I thought I had awoken him.

With a little victorious dance, I ran over and quickly opened the lockbox.

I wasn't sure what I expected to find. Maybe a wad of cash, a gun, or a present for my upcoming birthday. Something along those lines.

But nothing in the world could have prepared me for what was actually in that box, and my heart stopped when I picked the object up with trembling fingers.

"Oh. My. God."

The masquerade mask. The beautiful one with purple and lime-green paints, gold jewels, feathers, and glitter. The one that haunted all of my dreams. The one my captor had worn.

A deep voice came from behind me, "Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Curiosity killed the cat'?"

Something struck me hard in the back of the head, and my whole world went black.

Darkness surrounded me for the longest time, enveloping me in a thick, blissful blanket. My body wasn't in any pain, and perhaps, I should have just left things be. But I knew this wasn't right. Something important and urgent was calling to me, slowly dragging me to consciousness. I fought against annoying layers of invisible force, tapping into the only strength I possessed - my mental strength.

I slammed into reality with a heavy groan, and if it had been physically possible, I would have jerked.

"Oh, fuck me." At least I was still able to curse, otherwise I don't think I'd have survived.

I must have done something horrible in a past life, because I was paying for it in this one. I composed a mental checklist of the all the bad things I'd done and all the people I had wronged in my life, and came to the conclusion that either Karma was a nasty bitch or I had the worst luck in the universe, because that was the only explanation that made remote sense as to why I ended up where I currently was.

Filthy. Battered. Naked. Chained up. And here comes the upper punch: I was in the exact location I had spent months locked in the previous year…my captor's playground.

Though I knew it was wishful thinking, I prayed and hoped that I was just in some horrible nightmare, one that I would soon wake up kicking and screaming from.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up." I chanted uselessly, through painful, cracked lips. God, I would have killed for an ice-cold peach Snapple right now. Screw that, I would have promised my first born son for just a sip of that murky green pond, parasites and all, that my father loved to fish in.

I gasped, the air seeming to vacuum right out of my lungs. The realization of the situation was stronger than any slap to the face or punch to the gut could have been. My mind went into overdrive, my surroundings temporarily blurring and spinning before I regained control of my mental freak-out.

I only had one coherent thought that explained how I felt about it: "Oh…fuck…no."

My brain refused to accept the fact that my father had something—everything—to do with my previous, and now current, kidnapping. Just flipped the 'Close' sign and flat out refused.

I should have gone into shock right there. Just let my body and mind completely shut down. Ignorance was bliss, and ignoring reality seemed like the easiest choice to go with. But I'd be damn if I would die like this. Going without a bang wasn't Hathaway style, I was born to make some noise.

However, before I was able to shape an escape plan, I heard a click that made me freeze. My adrenaline went from zero to sixty, my breathing grew short and ragged, the fear in my veins threatening to paralyze me.

There was a loud creaking sound and a triangle of light spilled in, illuminating the dark room. My head sagged to my shoulder and I refused to look up, though my survival instincts were screaming at me when a large shadow appeared and walked towards me.

"Lift your head." Came a gravelly voice. The familiar sound was like knives to my ears.

"I said lift your head."

"No." I said lowly.

"That is not a request…that is a demand." Something in his voice was wrong. Every hair on my body stood up straight.

"Why must you make everything so difficult?"

"Go fuck yourself." I said challengingly, no longer afraid. My captor could do whatever he wanted with me, I honestly wouldn't feel a damn thing, neither physically nor emotionally. Everything shut down, thrusting me into a numb haze. Anything was better than the feeling I previously had when I realized that my father, the person put on this earth to protect me from all danger, was the one inflicting such torment on me.

A meaty hand reached out and clamped my chin, squishing my mouth together. "Look at me."

I did, and had to swallow the rising vile in the back of my throat. The identity of my captor was confirmed: Abraham Mazur, my father.

His thick, rich brown hair, identical in color to mine, was a knotted greasy mess on top of his head. His bronzed skin was filthy, covered in grime, sweat, and grease. Brown eyes, ones that used to bring me comfort and warmth and a sense of safety, were completely black; dilated, like a sharks, and I knew instantly that he was on some kind of substance. His whole demeanor and behavior were off—and not because he had just revealed his true self, but because he was higher than a kite. If I had felt anything, any shred of emotion, it would have been fear. My father was a monster, altered even more evilly by a chemical pounding in substantial amounts through his blood stream.

"You did this," I said weakly. "Wow, that was an unexpected twist! Gotta be honest here, pap…didn't see that one coming. You're good! You got me good…"

"Right where I want you." His eyes flicked back and forth so quickly across my face I thought he might have been experiencing a severe seizure, but then they traveled down my exposed body…and they glinted with a sick satisfaction. Oh, God. My captor was fascinated—obsessed—with me, and not in a healthy father-daughter fashion. Nobody should ever be looked at like that, so vulnerable and uncovered…especially not by their own parent.

My gut twisted painfully, lurching my body forward and causing me to dry heave until my insides felt like sandpaper rubbing together. "Fuck you, you sick fuck! You did this to me! You sick fuck!"

Flashbacks slammed to mind, the images flicking by so fast it was disorienting. A particular graphic one stuck to my brain like my own blood vessels.

"Please! Stop!" I pulled on the restraints. It was no use. The chains were stainless steel and unless I morphed into Superman, I was staying right where I was. There was no getting away. I was trapped. "What do you want from me?"

The man came to a stop just a few feet away from me, wearing all black from his neck to his toes. The mask on his face was brilliant, with purple and lime-green paints, gold jewels, feathers, and glitter. He wore dark glasses, keeping me from seeing his eyes.

When he spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was so deep and distorted from a small microphone machine that was attached to his earpiece and extended all the way to his mouth. "You are mine."

"What the hell do you want from me?" I screamed.

"So brave," he mocked. "I know that you are afraid, female. I can smell your fear."

I gathered saliva in my mouth and spit, aiming for his face. It landed on his mask.

A hand clapped against my cheek, so hard that it sent my head flying backwards, black spots clouded my vision.

Still, I fought. I wasn't going to give up without a fight. "You're a sick son of a bitch! Go to hell!"

The man slapped me again. I spit blood on the ground. "Do whatever the fuck you want with me," I grinned behind my searing pain. "I don't care. I won't feel it. Do it! Don't be a fucking coward!"

"I am going to teach you a lesson, female." The man unbuckled his belt, hiked his pants down to his ankles, exposing himself.

I whimpered, clamping my eyes shut.

The man grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. I screamed in pain.

"Please…stop…don't." I begged.

"Oh, you don't want me now, female?" That distorted voice shouted. "Too bad. Because I want you so badly." He rubbed his erection against my leg, and that's when I realized that I was naked. Naked and chained up.

"Please! Stop!" I cried.

Snapping back to reality, my eyes went wide with terror, my limbs freezing like ice.

Abe must have seen the change. "I never raped you." he explained quickly. "I never would have done something like that, no matter how badly I wanted to."

"Well, that just makes everything better! Like one big fucking band-aid!" I said, laughing tauntingly. "You're a coward. The most pathetic, crappy excuse of life. A true waste of space. Hey, does mom know about this? I'm guessing from the expression on your face that the answer is no. 'Cause hey, if you can hide it from me, she was probably just as innocent and easily fooled."

"You are correct."

"And by the way, where's your mask and scary voice?" I said. "Never mind, I guess there's no use for it now that your big secret has been revealed."

"Shut up. Shut up!" he roared, slamming his hands over his ears and crouching down as if in agony, the veins bulging from his neck and forehead. "You are talking too much. I cannot even hear myself think!"

"Do you think God will forgive you for everything you've done?" I mocked. "Naw, you're going to burn in hell where you belong."

Abe began to pace in front of me, like a cheetah. His mind seemed elsewhere, those black eyes in another universe. And he seemed torn on something, debating something. The maniacal expression on his face was a mix of trouble and something that churned my insides—dread.

My captor had plans for me.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what to fucking do!" he cried, lips drawn tight over his exposed teeth. My father's tempo was too quick, making me nauseous and dizzy.

"Why, Rose? Why did you do this? Why?" Suddenly, he stopped directly in front of me, tears in his eyes.

"I don't know, Dad. I could ask you the same question." I played with fire. The last thing you wanted to do was taunt the person that was likely to murder you. "Why did you do this, Dad? Why?"

"Because I love you." Abe answered simply, as if it was the answer to everything.

Unfortunately, that reason just wasn't good enough for me. I responded by rearing my body back and knocking my head against his with all possible strength and power I possessed.

"You are seriously fucking demented," I laughed, blood spilling out of my mouth and splashing onto the cracked concrete beneath my feet. Guess no one wins in the game of head butting, but it sure made me feel good to cause him even a sliver of pain.

Abe recovered quickly, came at me, and yanked on a fistful of my hair until I cried out. "Goddamn it! Why must you ruin everything! Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why did you have to go in that fucking lockbox!" he growled, continuing to yank on my tresses until it was a wonder he hadn't ripped it all out of my scalp.

"Stop," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "Please, just stop! I didn't do anything to you…I'm sorry. I don't want to die."

I felt entirely stupid that I had been so oblivious to the truth, never even had a single clue. The writing had been on the wall, the letters slapping me in the face. Still, I was blind to see it. But then again, any normal twenty-three year old woman would never expect their father to turn into a complete psychopathic kidnapper either.

Damn it. I had the worst luck.

"I wanted to forget about this, about everything that ever happened…just leave it all behind us and move on with our lives." Abe said. "But you had to go put your nose where it didn't belong, and now look at what you've done. You have ruined everything."

My captor looked so torn, and realization was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on top of my head. He was torn on a decision. Either one of two things was going to happen—he was going to allow me to live, or kill me.

My gut told me my fate would likely be the latter, and a small part of me was almost okay with that. I didn't want to live in a world where the person I loved most turned out to be the villain, the one who had put me through such emotional and physical agony. Even if by some miracle I did manage to make it out of this situation with a beating heart, I would never be the same. I had been living half a life before and now…well, I just didn't know if I had the will or want to go on. Life was evil. Death was easy, peaceful.

With a throbbing skull, a severe concussion, and aches all over my flesh and bedded deep in my muscles, I didn't think this day could have gotten much worse.

Little did I know I was so, so very wrong in thinking that.

"I need time to think. Time to figure out what I'm going to do."

"Do about what, asshole?"

"You." Abe whipped a cloth and a small brown bottle out of his back pocket, then doused it with the liquid inside.

"Oh, Chloroform...splendid, father." was all I managed to mutter before he pressed the cloth over my nose and mouth, and I breathed in the sickly sweet scent. There was no use in even bothering to struggle, it would merely waste the energy that I might need later.

Then for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I was out like a light.

I wasn't sure how long I spent in captivity. It could have been days, weeks, even months. Time was one big blur and there were periods where I forgot who I was. It didn't matter that I'd made countless vicious attempts to escape and fight back my father when he unchained me for bathroom and shower breaks, because I always ended up unsuccessful or knocked out cold. I wasn't sure how many more blows my head could take before I hit mental retardation level—at the rate I was going, it would be very soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, I had grown weak and nearly given up on the hope that I would ever make it out of this situation alive. Death didn't like to be cheated, and since I had already screwed him over twice in my short twenty-three years on this earth, I think I had severely pissed the holy hell out of him. He was going to make my demise one hell of a bloody grand finale.

My captor brought in trays three times a day stacked to the maximum with yummy food, but not even the smell helped to awaken my hunger. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten something, and as a result, my body had gotten drastically smaller and grew shockingly weak. I could barely hold my head up anymore and my sarcasm had become so lame and embarrassing that I was left with comebacks like, "You want some cheese with that whine?" when my father would cry and tell me that he didn't want to kill me, but eventually would have to.

I tried to scare him on multiple occasions by telling him that: "Everyone will get suspicious if we're both missing. The police will find out." And although it was totally cliché, I had to add in a: "You'll never get away with this!"

But then Abe would assure me that no one would get suspicious, because I was the only one missing. Apparently, he was still leading his normal life. He once told me: "I am simply the grieving, heartbroken father waiting and praying for his daughters' safe return home." And then he had smiled wickedly, and chills went up my spine.

There was a creak and I groaned weekly, turning my head to the side and peeling my eyes open.

"Breakfast." Abe told me, setting the tray down on a table beside me. "I need you to eat."

"Why don't you put your lips to my ass and kiss it?" See, my comebacks had become totally pathetic! I was truly ashamed. Somehow, I always believed I would be eternally witty, regardless of the circumstances.

"Rose." Abe said exasperatedly, walking over. He pulled the ring of keys out of his front pocket and unlocked the thick cuffs at my wrists. I felt the instant relief and rubbed my sore, boney, bruised and cut wrists. But then I remembered, hey, my hands were free. And I reared one back and went to slap my father so hard across the face.

"I knew you were going to do that." He caught my forearm mid-air and placed it back in my lap with a warning look.

That didn't stop me from punching him or attempting to bite him…or grabbing the tray and clocking it over his head, and finally, stabbing him with the spork. Sadly, it only scraped the top of his hand and pissed him off.

"Goddamn it, Rose! Stop! I'm not going to hurt you!" Abe quickly maneuvered out of my reach.

"Oh, right. You just kidnapped me twice, whipped me, and nearly raped me…but you're not going to hurt me? Thanks a lot. I feel much better knowing that, pap."

"You must eat."

"Not hungry." I sat down on the ground and dropped my head. This was killing me, slowly but surely, and I couldn't wait for the moment I took my last breath and left this earth. Hopefully death would finally bring me the peace I had always longed for.

"If you do not eat, you will die."

"Bingo."

I lifted my eyes just in time to see his gaze flash violently. This was something I had been paying very close attention to lately, studying what exactly made him tick. Disobedience was it.

Maybe I was delusional, but things seemed to be getting worse for my captor lately, as if he was on some downward spiral. My theory was that the guilt was getting to him, slowly eating him alive. As the days ticked by and time was running out for him to make the decision, he was going mad.

My father knew killing me was inevitable. I was too much of a risk. There was no way he was going to set me free and jeopardize everything he had ever worked so hard for. And he was especially not going to allow me to spill his secret to the world and let everyone know that he'd kidnapped and tortured his own daughter, and that's why his only choice left was to silence me forever.

I only hoped I would starve to death before then so he wouldn't have the satisfaction.

When you're chained up in a basement for weeks at a time, with no television or anyone to talk with, and the only human being you ever see is the person you hate most during his rare visits, it gave one plenty of time to be alone to their thoughts. At times I would idly wonder how destiny would have turned out had I listened and never discovered what was inside of that lockbox.

Would I have lived a long and healthy life? Would I have gone to school and made something of myself? Would I have found love and got married? Had children with the man of my dreams?

Unfortunately, I would never know the answer to any of those questions because my time was going to be cut short very soon.

Suddenly, Dimitri's face came to mind, clear as crystal. I found myself wanting to cry at the loss of him, at the waste of possibilities, at how amazing we could have been together.

I smiled sadly, heart aching so bad it nearly paralyzed me. "Maybe in another life, my love." I whispered.

"I wonder how you sleep at night knowing what you've done to me," I said, rinsing the last of strawberry conditioner out of my hair.

Abe stood in the doorway of the basement bathroom, back facing me. "I don't."

"Do you think mom would stay with you if she knew everything you're hiding from her?" I asked, turning off the running water and reaching for a towel.

"Please do not bring your mother into this."

"Why not? Don't you think she deserves to know all of your lies?"

"Don't. Just don't please…she is so innocent."

"And I wasn't before you pulled all of this shit?"

"What do you want me to do about it? I am unable to take back the past."

"You could start by letting me go."

"You know I can't do that." He rested his face in his hands, voice strained.

"Where does Janine think you are right now?" I demanded, hoping to draw a reaction out of him.

"Work."

"Clever excuse. She probably bought it without even blinking an eye. But then again, why shouldn't she? It's not like you've given her a reason to believe that you're a complete fucking lunatic." I quickly pulled the clean t-shirt and sweatpants over my body. My captor allowed me to wear clothes, which was always a plus. Without glancing in the mirror, I quickly tied my hair up and went to my father, wrists pushed out towards him.

Physical attacks proved to be ineffective, so I had to go with another strategy.

I was going to push Abe to the maximum, twist his mind, and get him to the point where he is so intensely angry that he doesn't act or think straightly. Then wait for a slip up.

Or at least hope and pray for one.

"I hate you." I told him as he shackled me up.

Abe instantly stopped what he was doing, standing up straight. "You don't mean that."

"Are you insane—oh wait, you are. Forget I asked that question." I said. "How about another one. Do you remember that time you sewed my lips shut to teach me a lesson?"

Eyes darkened, jaw clenched. "What are you trying to do?"

I shrugged as best I could with my arms in their current positions. "Just taking a trip down memory lane. What about that time you bit me and took a chunk out of my flesh? Do you remember that, daddy?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You used to love it."

"Stop it."

"Why?"

I gasped in his pain when his hand clapped against my cheek. "Damn it! I have a filling on that side!"

"I need to go before I do something I'll later regret." Fresh sweat bloomed over Abe's skin and he began visibly shaking. Lose control, I thought with satisfaction, that's exactly right. The tables had turned, now I was the puppet master toying with his head.

I laughed incredulously. "You are a coward."

"What?"

"Cow-ard." I overly enunciated, as if he was stupid. "You're a coward. A pussy. The biggest vagina I know!"

My captor turned around, smiled cruelly. "You never know when to shut your mouth, do you?"

"You think I'm afraid of you anymore? No! You make me laugh. You are so incredibly pathetic I'm not sure why I waste my time and energy speaking to you." I said truthfully. "Ever since you took off that mask and I discovered the real you, I no longer feel fear. You know what I feel? Disgust. Loathing. Pity."

The look in his eyes was hellish. "I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."

Abe came at me and unlocked my restraints so quickly my head spun. Then he did exactly what I wanted him to do.

He threw me on the ground and jumped on top of me, all of his weight pressed against my body.

"No! No! Please stop…I'm sorry." The wind rushed out of my lungs, and panic settled in…along with adrenaline.

As he started to yank on my pants, my hand clawed over and hooked firmly on one of the chairs legs. The chair that he put in there for my comfort when I ate—or didn't eat, as it was. The chair that had been damaged during one of our previous struggles. The chair that could very possibly save my life.

Luckily, my captor was oblivious to the entire thing. Probably because he was too occupied trying to tear off my clothes.

Using my surge of super human strength, I gritted my teeth and yanked as hard as I could.

Abe paused for a nanosecond, but it was already too late. I clutched the weapon with both hands, and plunged the sharp wood straight into his back. He grunted in pain and shock sparkled in his eyes.

My adrenaline was pumping so fast I wasn't really sure all that was going on. All I knew was that I had to get out. Now.

Despite the fact that my father had to weigh over two-hundred pounds, I rolled him off me as if he was merely a feather. Then I jumped to my feet and was ready to bail like the roof was about to cave in.

But then I looked back down at my father, the way he blinked slowly, the painful rise and fall of his impaled chest.

And I couldn't just leave. Revenge burned deep in my body, igniting every fiber of my essence.

I became a monster.

Reaching down, I twisted the chair leg out of his chest, which was harder than I first assumed. Lifting it over my head, I aimed for his head and brought the weight down hard.

"Ughhhhhh." Abe screamed in agony, but soon became quiet after a few more blows.

I continued to mercilessly strike my captor, each blow seeming to carry more force than the last one. Channeling all of my pent up rage, hurt, and betrayal, which turned out to be one hell of a combination, I beat him until I was sure he had stopped breathing. And even then, I didn't quit. Blood splattered with each impact, covering me until my senses were overloaded with the feel, smell, and taste of the vital, crimson liquid.

Distantly, I was aware of the screams and cries exploding from my lips. The sounds, filled with such crippling anguish, would have broken anyone's heart.

"Why, you motherfucker? WHY!" I demanded, still clutching the splintered piece of wood defensively. But then I dropped the makeshift weapon, and completely lost it.

"I didn't deserve this, damn it! Why would you do this to me, daddy? You are supposed to protect me. You are supposed to protect me…" I sobbed, dropping to my knees.

I wanted to lay there and die with my father. Despite the fact that I'd finally defeated the bad guy, this didn't feel like a happy ending, and I lost all will to survive. Slowly, I curled around Abe's disfigured and unrecognizable body, finding myself wanting to join him in the afterlife.

But then Lissa's face came to mind, followed by my mothers. I realized that there was no option but to keep living, because I had to go on for them. Their pleading, tear-filled eyes brought me out of lethargy, and I got to my feet with dragging, robotic movements.

I had a reason to live…they were my reason to live. There was no way I could destroy the two women I loved most by allowing myself to be that selfish as to end my own life. Especially my mother. My innocent, innocent mother. She couldn't lose the only man she had ever loved and her daughter. I couldn't imagine how she'd react to the news of my father's true identity.

I ran out of the basement as fast as I could, taking the steps three at a time. Upstairs, I was shocked at my surroundings. A beautiful, modern cabin with homey furniture. Had I not been in such a hurry to escape, I would have taken the time to appreciate it.

I headed for the first door I saw and nearly plowed through the thing with the momentum and force I threw behind my shoulder. I jiggled the doorknob several more times. "Damn it!"

Not wasting any time, I sprinted for the next one. Locked. Then the next one. Same result.

"Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch!" I cursed nastily, after having tried every possible door unsuccessfully. "You've got to be kidding me!"

My adrenaline was through the roof, hands shaking uncontrollably, blood pumping, breathing raggedly. I felt powerful, kind of like a super hero.

The next action was to pick up the closest object to me, which happened to be a pretty polished rocking chair, and launch it against the living room window. It didn't shatter like I'd hoped.

Stumped, I grabbed one of the fancy metal tools next to the fire place. Holding the object like a baseball, I swung like Babe Ruth, putting all of my weight and strength behind it.

Not even a scratch on the glass.

"What. The. Fuck." I growled. "Bullet proof glass? You cannot be serious." I had to give my father props—that man came prepared.

Figuring that wasn't the only indestructible window in the cabin, I did the last thing I ever wanted to do. I went back into the basement. Right back to my captor.

Nauseated and sweating profusely, I hurriedly searched through his pockets and retrieved the ring of keys with a heart that was racing a million miles an hour.

Maybe it was childish and risky, even a waste of time, but I couldn't leave without doing one last thing—drop kicking my father in his groin area. It did little to satisfy me because he didn't move or even groan.

I didn't have it in me to look back at the chains hooked to the wall, the place where I spent roughly a year of my life. It would only slow me down. So without casting a glance over my shoulder, I ran for the stairs once again.

Something wet, cold and fleshy wrapped around my ankle. I screamed.

"Kiz…help me." Abe pleaded, voice so low and pain filled I could barely hear him. "You can't just leave me here to die. I'm your father."

"Go to hell!" The lockbox was in arms reach, so I grabbed the heavy metal thing, and smashed it as hard as I could against his head, knocking him out cold. If he hadn't been dead before, he certainly was now.

I tore up the stairs and went for the first door I saw. With shaky, bloody hands, I went through four keys before the door swung open.

Outside. I was surrounded by a forest. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I felt the urge to smile and scream with joy. Cold, crisp air blew my matted hair back and I breathed the damp air in deeply. There was a lake nearby, and a light bulb burst in my brain.

"The boat." I gasped, and darted off towards my possible freedom.

"Help me! PLEASE! I need help! Is anyone out there?"

I stopped dead in my tracks.

That voice didn't belong to my fathers.

Oh, God.

Someone else was in that cabin.

I turned around and ran back inside the cabin, only hoping that I hadn't fallen for another one of my captors tricks.