Warnings for stalking, abduction, use of a needle with a tranquilizer injection in the needle, captivity, detailed mentions of murder, involving cutting organs out, dating abuse involving fists and a knife, someone abusing their girlfriend, and stated future gang rape.

Catching their prey

Frank and the rest of Clarke's mates had hung back, in the far back part of the club, watching their prey.

Clarke had clearly been rattled by her encounter with Frank, having figured out that the words he said to her, when he had stopped that boy, Jasper, from manhandling her, which were on her arm, made him one of her soulmates and therefore, one of the people that meant to abduct her.

Clarke was making sure that her friends, Fox and Roma, stayed out of the matter, so that they didn't get hurt.

But she was also tense, glancing in the direction of where Frank Castle had disappeared to. She most definitely was worried about the encounter.

And it made her hands get close to her pockets, which was where her cannisters of pepper spray were, most likely.

Those would make no difference.

They would contain her, bring her back to the place they had gotten ready for her, and try to see if they could rehabilitate her there.

They knew she likely would suffer from withdrawal symptoms after a few days.

That was alright. They'd placed a large fridge in the room where they'd be keeping her, where there would be water and food for her while she was recovering.

How they were going to go about getting her to potentially forgive them after all they were going to do-abduct her, hold her prisoner, and yes, rape her?

That was tricky. They hoped she would see that they were trying to help her, even if it was twisted how they would be doing it. But there were also bribes, as they had come to accept, even if that made it somehow even worse.

Bribes were unacceptable in normal toxic situations. It was even more so with this one, where there was indeed, going to be rape involved.

However, they understood that it would probably make Clarke happy. And she wouldn't have to worry about taking care of the creatures that they planned on giving her. They could look after them, until Clarke was well enough to look after them, herself.

They were planning, of course, to get her several of the pets which she so craved.

After learning enough about the animals that she loved, they had gotten a bunch of terrariums together, all of them big enough to hold at least one large reptile or large amphibian, or several small reptiles and several small amphibians.

The place where they were going to take her, had walls decked out with small and large terrariums, which held plants and such for the eventual animals.

They doubted that Clarke would be easily placated with just one reptile or just one amphibian. And besides, they wanted to make her happy, so, many animals it would be.

They had done their research, before filling the place up with terrariums, finding what reptiles and amphibians were allowed to be kept in California. Not that they cared about laws-they never did, but they doubted that Clarke would let them forget.

As the night went on, the large group observed as several people dispersed from the club. Some customers taking their drunk selves home, or going off with some sex worker or other.

Other workers went home, including Clarke.

And naturally, as soon as Clarke left the establishment, her mates followed, only five minutes after she exited the building.

They trailed after her down the street, knowing that they would need to be careful. There were cameras all over, grafted to the sides of various buildings, however, they knew how to evade those.

And they were careful who saw them.

They reached their vehicles, got up into them, started the engine, then started driving slowly down the street, after Clarke.

Clarke would not look back, of this they were certain. She was looking ahead, and looking from side to side, making sure no one was close enough to grab her.

Clarke reached her apartment building, and her mates trailed after her in their vehicles.

Only when Clarke was about to reach the front door of her building, did they increase the speed of their vehicles.

They slowed down to parking by the side of the road, and one by one, got out of their cars.

Because they were so careful and so stealthy, Clarke did not hear them exit out of their automobiles, nor did she hear them approach her.

When Clarke was about to reach the front door of her building, her left hand going into her pocket to pull out her keys, it was then that her mates struck.

However, they weren't quiet enough.

One of them kicked a small pebble out of the way by accident, sending said pebble into a nearby cement wall, the sound quiet, but not so quiet that Clarke didn't hear it.

She whirled around, tense, hearing the clicking noise of the pebble against the wall, and she froze for just a moment, eyes on the people approaching her.

And she heard one of the sentences that covered her arm. One of the men said, chuckling, "Well, this is awkward."

"Clarke," one of the women said, her right hand reaching out, saying the words that Clarke had read over and over along her arm, "I know this is difficult for you to believe, but things will go a lot better if you just come with us."

Clarke's heart stopped, and she understood exactly what was happening here.

The moment that she had feared and dreaded, was about to occur.

She was about to be abducted by her eventual most likely rapists.

"You….," she began, trying to ignore the ice that was beginning to drip through her blood, "You should fucking back off now."

One of the women said dryly, "It might be better for you if you came with us, that way, we won't have to just snatch you off of the street."

Clarke felt her stomach turn. It was starting. Everything that she knew was coming, it was beginning.

"Isn't snatching me off of the streets exactly what you're doing now?" Clarke asked, somehow able to push the words out of her mouth.

Another woman sighed, and even in the dark, Clarke could make out the woman's sad smile as the older woman said, "It's going to be alright, just come with us and everything will be fine."

Clarke could feel her heart hammering.

Everything that she had seen on her arm, all the quotes that she had seen and read and dreaded over the years? She was hearing them now. And she didn't know how to mentally handle it.

She heard the words from her mate again spilling out-those that hadn't spoken yet, said the words that she had marked upon her arm and she backed up more and more, trying to ignore how the blood in her veins froze.

"You don't have the right to do this," she said, glaring at the last man that had spoken, glaring at the very large, blonde man.

The same, large blonde man smirked and he said, his voice holding that deep British accent again, "We don't have the right to protect our mate? Even if it's from herself? When she's putting herself in danger?"

Clarke's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. Suddenly she went from frightened and angry, to flummoxed.

What was that supposed to mean?

One of the women, brown-haired, who had yet to speak, said dryly, "The drugs, Clarke? The drinking?"

Clarke's eyes widened. Oh.

That suddenly explained why with a plethora of borderline threatening words on her arms from her soulmates, the only two that had stuck out, were the quote, "Well, this is awkward," which had been said by one of the black-haired, white men, and the quote, "The drugs, Clarke? The drinking?" which now was said by this brown-haired, white woman.

The words sounded like they didn't belong with all the other sentences. But it was all in the same context.

All said by her abductors and to be rapists, nothing else.

But she also realized that this meant one other thing.

These people had been stalking her. For what most likely had been a long time.

Clarke couldn't help the gasp that left her mouth.

They had been stalking her. Who knew what they knew about her?

"Clarke," the orange-haired, white woman said, "It's alright. Everything will be okay. Just come with us."

"No," Clarke said, panic in her chest, her hands reaching to her pockets where her weapons were.

She wasn't sure if she could actually bring herself into hurting her mates, regardless of what they were doing. But she could try.

But said mates moved fast.

They were upon her in seconds.

They grabbed her around her wrists, around her shoulders and waist, keeping her hands at her sides so that she couldn't grab anything from her pockets.

She turned her head, trying to lean forward and bite one of their arms, but they had come prepared, as one of them injected something into her hand-a needle of sorts.

Clarke winced, eyes clenching shut.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she heard a man's voice say, startling her.

She turned to look and in the dim light of the lights on the building, she could see the man that had injected her in the hand, was an older man, with dark salt and pepper hair. The man stepped back, pulling the needle out of her hand after injecting her.

"It's alright," the same man said, "It's just a tranquilizer. You'll wake up soon after passing out. We just need to get you to the safehouse."

Clarke struggled. She thought of screaming, but she knew that would do nothing. Why bother? This was Los Angeles. No one was going to come running or call for help when hearing screams. They most likely would turn the other way and try to pretend that they hadn't heard anything.

That was just how people here were.

Clarke's vision began to become fuzzy, and she could feel her mates and abductors, moving her from the steps, carrying her across the sidewalk, to where they likely had kept a van or something.

She couldn't believe this. Was this actually happening? But she didn't have the strength to struggle, and her vision was becoming fuzzier by the second.

She heard a car door opening up and was slowly placed inside somewhere, feeling leather covering under her, then heard some car doors close, before her vision became black.

Approximately two hours later

Clarke's eyes opened up, and she felt lightheaded.

Her limbs felt weak, as she pushed herself up off of where she laid down.

She blinked a few times and took in her surroundings.

Apparently, she had been placed on a large, fluffy and very soft bed. The bed, covered with glossy, dark red covers and sheets. The walls were plain white, but there were soft couches or sofa chairs all over. There were bookshelves with a lot of books, and no, Clarke wasn't missing that the shelves were full of books that she liked or were in the genres that she liked.

There was a bathroom, and on the near opposite side of the room, was a fridge.

She looked around the room again, her gaze traveling up this time, her eyes widening when she saw cameras all around the room. Cameras that she was going to have to assume, were working and monitoring her right now.

"Hey!" She yelled, "Hey!" She got off of the bed, and stepped on the floor, startled to find that she was in her socks only. She glanced down at the floor and was relieved to find her shoes just placed on the floor next to the foot of the bed. She leaned down, grabbed one shoe and shoved it onto her foot, grabbed the other shoe and jammed it on, then looked up at the cameras again.

She was relieved that her legs didn't feel too wobbly, after whatever that one mate of hers had injected her with.

She glanced around the room again, seeing no windows.

But she saw a door, where there was a speaker right above it.

She ran to the door, grabbed the handle and turned it.

Of course, the door didn't so much as budge.

She snorted, not the least bit surprised.

She turned back to the room and scanned the rest of the area.

There were other doorways, but they just led to other rooms with no doors or windows. In other words, this was all just part of a prison.

A spacious prison, but a prison.

She backed away from the door to what she had deemed her prison, and got to the bed, wanting to stay by it in case she collapsed from the drug that she was given. She snapped, glaring at the cameras, "You think you get to lock me up in here?! Fuck you! I would never want mates like you!"

She waited and at first, no response.

But a few moments later, there was a crackling sound and Clarke frowned, looking around for the sound, finding a speaker above the doorway of what she presumed was the entrance to this place where she'd been locked up.

A voice came through the speaker.

It was a woman's voice.

The woman's voice said, "Even if you don't believe us, Clarke, we're doing this to protect you. You have isolated yourself for far too long. You've taken too many unsafe drugs and drank too much. We know you've done far more reckless behavior than that. We're just trying to protect our mate."

"Oh, yeah," Clarke snapped, trying not to shudder, wondering how long they'd keep her here, "Thanks for that, you've really done a wonderful job."

Another woman's voice came through the speaker. The other woman said, and she sounded like she was sighing while saying it, "Clarke, do you recognize the name 'Brock Rumlow?'"

Clarke paused.

Yes, of course, she recognized the name, 'Brock Rumlow.' He had been an older man that she had taken interest in online and had been hoping to meet and fuck him for months.

But he had never shown up.

When Clarke was quiet for a while, the same second woman answered, "Well, Brock Rumlow,…he wasn't as trustworthy as you seemed to think he was. We did some research on him, before you had the chance to meet him. And he's had…well, a troubling history. You see, a year before you and him began to communicate online, Brock Rumlow, caused some problems with a former girlfriend. And she was too afraid to step forward, that is why you never heard about it. Brock Rumlow repeatedly beat his former girlfriend nearly to death. And cut her face even."

Clarke's eyes widened, feeling bile rise up in her throat. What the fuck? Seriously?

Her shock must have shown, because she heard a man speak then, "Yeah, we had a feeling you had no idea, Clarke. Well, we weren't gonna let someone that dangerous come near you. So, we…took care of him for you."

Clarke felt a new wave of cold wash over her.

"What the hell did you do?" She all but whispered, though all this information about Brock Rumlow, was news to her.

"What we needed to do, to protect you," the first woman that had spoken over the speaker, said, as if it was the easiest thing to explain in the world.

Another voice, another familiar voice that she had heard before her abduction spoke, another one of the women. This other woman said, her voice cold as she answered, "We caught Brock Rumlow, cut his fingers off, cut some of his organs out while he was still alive, then cut his throat. Then cremated him."

Clarke swallowed hard.

That was…even if what they were saying about Rumlow was true? That was sick.

"That's sick," Clarke said, telling them exactly what she thought of them.

"Was it?" Another man said, the same man, Clarke realized, who had said, "Well, this is awkward," "We did to him what he probably would have done to you. What he was working his way up to doing. I'm sure you know that most murderers work up to when they escalate. He was just getting started with his former girlfriend. He just happened to not kill her. I think you can guess that what he was going to do to you, was a thousand times worse."

"Oh," Clarke said, "You mean, like abduct me, hold me captive and rape me?"

That reminded her…

Clarke checked her pockets. Nope. Her pepper spray and her taser? Not present. They obviously had stripped her of her weapons, before sticking her in here.

"Don't bother, Clarke," one of the women said, "We confiscated the pepper spray and the taser, before we put you in that room."

Clarke grunted, "Figured as much."

Another woman said, "Anything you need or want, we'll put in that room for you. That fridge that's there, it's full of food. And there's a microwave next to it, if you want to heat anything up."

Clarke nodded. "Thanks," she said, dryly, and she knew that they could detect that she in no way meant her thanks, "I'm sure that really makes up for taking me away from my life and apartment and keeping me here and most likely regularly gang raping me."

She tried to ignore the cold fear she felt when she said that last part.

Would they really?

Sure, they were keeping her captive, but there was still a pretty big step from abduction, to rape. At least, if these people were as rational as they seemed.

It was one thing if their intentions had just been to rape then kill her. But even without them being her mates, she found that motive hard to believe.

To go through all this trouble just to do that? No. So, they were rational enough, which caused her to pause and assume that they were too rational to bounce from abduction to sexual assault.

And yet…

She knew what her instincts told her.

And besides, they weren't denying her accusations of intending to rape her.

She heard the speaker crackle again and for a moment, she had hoped that her assumptions about their intentions were incorrect, but when she heard what one of the women said, she felt her heart fall to her stomach.

The woman who spoke next, said, "No, it doesn't make up for that. We know. But we have so much more that we hope you'll see, was worth it. Including the sexual pleasure we'll bring to you, my love."

Clarke felt an entire body shiver run through her, as she slowly looked up to stare at the speaker.

They were actually going to do it, weren't they?

The twenty-seven of them were going to rape her. Repeatedly.

Again, her emotions must have been clear to the people watching her behind those cameras, because she heard one of the other women say over the speaker, "Don't be frightened, love. We won't hurt you. It will only feel good. We'll make sure of it. You no doubt have figured out by now that we've been watching you. And we have been. We know what you like and don't like in sex. So, don't worry. We'll make sure that it's nothing but pleasurable at our hands."

Clarke felt her heart pound.

There was the answer.

She was going to be repeatedly gang raped.

Her entire body felt cold, icy.

She said, wishing she sounded tougher than she sounded, "You think I'll ever forgive you for this?"

"We would never have the gall to ask you to forgive us, honey," one of the women said, "But we'll do everything we can to show you that everything we're doing, is to please you, to make you happy."

Clarke fought another shudder. She wasn't breaking through to them. To them? There was nothing that wasn't excusable, because, hey, at least they were doing it for their mate, right?

Clarke sat down on the bed, a bed which she realized, feeling her stomach turn, she most likely would be fucked against her will against, quite a lot in the future.

Dammit. And she didn't even have any cocaine or booze here to make herself feel better about all this.

Then again, they had made their position about her using all the drugs and alcohol, very clear.

Fuck. This was going to be a long and frustrating…well, who knew how long she'd be kept here? Hell, no one but her and her captors knew that she was here, right? So, she was likely going to be here for a while, needless to say.

Clarke tried not to think too much about that, and just tried to focus on thinking about anything else, trying to ignore the growing dread in the pit of her stomach, as she awaited when her mates intended to come into this room and commit the first assault.

Author's note

I'm sure the influence of all three Fireclaw111, WolfHowlRunner61 and Soaringhurricane's stuff is clear in this chapter, and it will be clear also in later chapters in this fic.