Grogginess was causing Diego's head to feel as if Toronado himself could be galloping through it. He should be feeling more refreshed and alert after sleeping. Stirring restlessly in his bed he pulled the warm and inviting covers up to his chin and felt the usual questions creeping into his already addled mind. Feeling a bit foggy and confused was not helping him with sorting through the questions that he asked himself daily. While not finding comfort or relief from the covers on his bed, he found himself swinging his long legs out of the covers and placed his feet on the floor as he sat on the edge of his bed. The nagging doubts and what ifs were flowing like the cool river through his unsettled mind, causing him to shiver.

"What if I just suddenly decided to let Zorro go?" he thought to himself as he did often.

If he gave up on his quest for justice and stopped helping others, surely his life would be so much more simple. If he chose to put himself first he could show his father and everyone else who he truly is instead of seeming like a feeble coward. He could only wonder if his sensual and loyal Victoria would like him for himself without the unbridled excitement of a secret romance.

"What would happen if I wasn't keeping my anger deep inside or holding back on what I would like to do to the alcalde," he found himself whispering to his empty room.

He greatly enjoyed being able to be the hero behind the mask and took pride in knowing that he had kept the families in the pueblo safe. He had kept everyone safe from the vulgar vermin who lived their lives without following common courtesy, the laws of the land, or much less the teachings of the church. His father's livelihood was thriving. Felipe was well looked after. Diego knew that life as it had been for the last several years had been successful for him as well as everyone who has meant anything to him. He simply could not answer his own innermost questions of whether to let go of his secret self, or what would happen if he revealed himself to his father and Victoria. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if lawmen were to discover his secrets and if he would live with regrets or face certain death.

Finding himself hungry again he decided to join his father for a morning meal of eggs and pastries. He had eaten the soup from the Gitana mother the evening before, but his stomach felt completely empty. It had been absolutely hearty and filling while leaving him with a boost of energy and short lived clarity. He had spent several hours working in his lab on projects that he had been procrastinating on for far too long until fatigue had finally taken over.

"Diego, are you listening?" he finally heard his father ask.

Realizing that he had indeed been lost in his own private thoughts he replied, "I'm sorry, please tell me again."

"Nearly two dozen heads of cattle and horses have gone missing from local ranches.

Sighing deeply, Diego thought to himself, "It just never ends."

Diego excused himself, making a quick mention of how delicious the pastries were. He stealthily made his way to his cave with dueling thoughts of ignoring the information he had just learned or transforming into his other self as Zorro the hero. Being a hero of the people was hard. Being two different people in one single body was even harder.

"¡No puedo seguir haciendo esto!" he thought to himself.

He changed into his secret outfit as he decided to do what would be expected of him. With a sigh he opened the cave and launched himself into the saddle he had just secured on Toronado. His horse very rarely judged him and would listen to him as he vented about his frustrations.

He allowed Toronado to take over while holding onto the reins while riding away from the hacienda as he was lost in his private thoughts behind his mask. He allowed himself to become careless and inattentive to his surroundings. His increasing depression was causing his fox-like tendencies to fade. He was behaving more like a mere man instead of the great and powerful hero that he had once been. It almost seemed as if he himself was merely playing dress up in Zorro's clothing.

Giving in to his wandering thoughts, he did not hear the commotion of the immoral man who had spotted him. He was oblivious to his surroundings until he heard the eruption of gunshots. The sound startled him out of his thoughts as he fell backwards off of Toronado. As a result of his carelessness he landed head first, hitting his head on the unforgiving ground. Finding himself sprawled out like a hot mess he looked straight up into the soulless eyes of a master criminal with a heavily scarred face. The mangled and most likely diseased scoundrel was snickering and grinning ear to ear from finding such a rare prize. This fully distracted version of Zorro was too much of a tempting sight for a criminal to overlook.

"Don't even think about moving, until I say so," the outlaw growled at him.

He snapped to attention and tried to whip the pistol from the man's hand as he knew Zorro should be putting up a much better fight than his last attempt. He missed by mere inches. He was definitely not at his best. He felt unsteady on his feet and dizziness began to cause his vision to blur. He was seeing a double image of the man he was attempting to attack. As the acidic bile rose up into the back of his throat it seemed as if the man was lunging at him in slow motion. The sounds around him had begun to seem out of place and confusing.

"Oh Dios mio!" he thought to himself as his legs failed and the rest of his vision faded away into a hazy black nothingness.

His attacker might soon discover his secret identity and the feeling of dizziness was soon combined with a strong sensation of nausea and dread. The great and courageous Zorro had fainted in the presence of a dangerous enemy.

Startled to alertness from the feeling that he was being manhandled, he was surprised to discover the sensation of fabric on his face and that he still was wearing his mask. He blinked his eyes open and realized that he was no longer in control. His hands were bound together behind his back and his ankles were bound with only enough slack to be able to take limited miniscule steps.

Noticing that the man he knew as Zorro was alert, the outlaw jerked him upright by the collar of his shirt. The attacker held a sharp, yet revolting and grubby knife to his throat. As Zorro he had been in many worse situations than this.

"I have no intention of slitting your throat until we've had some fun, but if you keep making me angry I will gut you like a fish and continue to entertain myself with your dying body,'' the outlaw cautioned him.

All of the outlaw's rage and fury from the humiliation and thwarted plans gone wrong brought on by Zorro over the years was focused on the captured Zorro. He was trapped and could only wonder how long it would take until the outlaw unmasked him if he couldn't free himself quickly enough.

The outlaw had a look about him of insanity, delight, and fury. He knew that trying to reason with this man was out of the question and would prove to be futile as the man's overwhelming desire to get revenge on Zorro was fueling the attack against him. Anything that he would try to say would only enrage the dangerous man further. He remained silent and watched in anticipation of what was to come next.

The outlaw's knife was used to slice the laces holding his shirt closed and straight down through the middle of his shirt to the top of his trousers. The outlaw proceeded to swiftly kick him in his exposed abdomen. As he tried to fight the restraining rope around his wrists the rope continued chafing his wrists, making them raw and sore.

The outlaw began to roughly unbuckle the belt Diego was wearing as part of his Zorro outfit as his identity barely remained hidden behind his mask. The violent attack continued as his pants were ripped down to his bound ankles. Fear and frustration overtook him along with shame as he was left almost completely exposed in the presence of his attacker.

"On your hands and knees Zorro!" the outlaw shouted with glee dripping from his tongue.

The overjoyed criminal proceeded to roughly jerk the man he knew as Zorro into a position better suited for a toddler. He had to try to fight back. He tried to look for his attacker's weakness through blurry vision. The multiple images he saw of the man standing in front of him was not helping.

"What could he possibly have planned for me," he thought to himself while still trying to come up with an escape plan.

The outlaw began to use Zorro's whip against him. He realized that his attacker had intended to inflict as much pain as possible by whipping his bare skin. As the whip cracked repeatedly against his legs and backside he felt his skin split and blood begin to drip from the cuts.

"I was flogged after being captured by you, and now Zorro, I am returning the favor!" the outlaw whispered into his ear as spit was flying out of his excited mouth.

He began to feel his mask being roughly taken off. This was the moment that he had truly been dreading. Suddenly he heard a loud buzzing and felt the ground beneath him begin to violently shake. He closed his eyes as a wave

of nausea overtook him, and then he passed out.