I taste the copper in my mouth, long before the slap takes place. In my haste to free myself of Kellan's hand, I bit him which immediately triggered the slap. I'm so used to hurting now that I do not spare a moment to recover, as I scream with everything left in me at the low flying chopper. I can feel my chest deflate as it shows no sign of having seen me or anyone having heard me.            Irate, Kellan begins his merciless beating and I know somehow this is it. I'm dead. I miscalculated, again, and now I'll pay. I want to beg to him for some bit of mercy, to tell him that I'm sorry and I understand. That I know now why I have to be trained and disciplined. Polished. I am a fool and a failure, the hole I dig myself is far worse than the fate I tried to avoid. I grab at his boot in vain as it collides over and over with my face. The last thing I see is the sole of his boot and his scowl as he hovers

    I'm cold. I'm cold and it's dark. I can't bear to open my eyes yet, so I just exist. Feeling my body jar about on a smooth, chilly surface. What happened? I'm still alive? I don't quite understand yet, but I know I was supposed to be dead. I even feel dead. My body is sore, and numb at the same time. My mouth dry and a piece of fabric tied around my head covers it. No. I shiver.        I try to stretch but I realize that I am bound. I can't move. I can't feel my lower half. I panic and try to thrash about, but I can do nothing but shimmy a few inches across the cool surface. A bump jars me again and I plop down roughly from the impact. Am I in a vehicle? I whimper and try to focus my eyes, and to my luck a faint light enters through what I imagine is glass somewhere.         My head throbs with the invasion, but soon I

  Kellan stood hovering until I was able to drink the broth. I had it everywhere, but I clutched the cup for life unwilling to let him assist. Things were unsettling before, but they have went completely nerve wrecking now. He nearly killed me, twice, no three times. Again. And that was just the last day in the woods and chopping my leg off. Now he expects me to help him kill Dallas, all for a flash drive that I had planted in the box. How did he get it though? Didn't Kellan pack everything? Did he leave the box out for Dallas?          "You're really going to meet him?" I ask, testing the water. Kellan laughs.          "Fuck no. You think I'm stupid? You know he has been in cohorts with authorities now and that this is a ruse to get me out every they can ambush me. However you've mostly been ignoring me, and I knew this would get your attention. Now, that I

*Kellan's POV*            "Alina!" I shout, as her body tumbles from the window. I rush across the room on instinct, but it is too late. She lays, sprawled motionless on the ground below and my breath catches. My chest heaves and panic sets in. I was willing to kill her, but couldn't do it. I had stalled and tried to talk myself up, but I couldn't. I had thought she was bluffing, but she had the fortitude I locked and she did my job for me. Creature barks and rubs circles in the room, confused, but sensing something wrong.           "Alina!" I scream again. My mind is in two places. I want to rush down to her, to see if she's still with me. I also know I should run. If I can't save her, I am wasting time. She could be dead. Dallas was right, I need to get out of here. Squandering my time will only have let Alina possibly die in vain, but I don't want to leave her.

The past few months have been a roller coaster. It has been nothing but stress and anguish. Physical and mental pain. I've had to endure so much therapy and so much attention that I can't hardly stand to leave this house anymore. I can't really even say my house, as it belongs to Dallas. It is no longer mine. My home is on the market. It was in terrible shape after the community rummaged it, investigations were conducted, and horror enthusiasts from all over broke in to take photos and party.          That being said, lack of my own hone, confidence and privacy have lead me into a violent depression. One minute I am low, and the next I am literally ready to fight on short notice. My therapist threw a bunch of large terms out there, but I couldn't focus. I tire of being scrutinized and the entire time he inspected me I longed to jab an ink pen between his teeth to remove thst insufferable bit of kale. He became 'especially conc