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I looked on helplessly as Marge rushed to tend to Cynthia. I could only watch as Marge tried her best to stop the bleeding and listen to Cynthia's labored breathing as she gasped for air. If I felt that I was livid before, I knew that at this moment I was furious. Oh how I wanted to turn around and destroy the person who did this to her.
"You monster," I cursed under my breath, just loud enough for my captor to hear. She laughed maniacally, tilting the knife deeper into my throat.
"Oh this isn't much. Not after you and your friends here murdered my men," she sneered in return, "Now you'll get to watch your friends die one my one. By my hands." I closed my eyes in anger as I heard three more shots, each one ending with a scream of pain. When I opened my eyes again, I was horrified by the sight. Jack had taken the brunt of two of the shots, standing protectively over Cynthia and Marge as Damien fell to one knee, clutching at his heart.
"Damien! Jack!" Marge cried out.
"I'm fine, love," Jack grunted, wobbling towards Damien. The man had blood tricking down from his torso and the right side of his chest. As for Damien... I held my breath as I watched him collapse unceremoniously onto the ground, his blood pooling beneath him. The woman cackled behind me.
"It would seem that there will now be four of you," the woman jeered happily. I clenched my fists, probably to the point where I drew blood from my palms. Jack tried to hoist Damien to stand, but I took a good look at his eyes. The man was gone, lifeless. I guess her bullet went straight through his heart, and Damien was no more. Jack must have realized it too, as he set the body down and closed Damien's eyes, uttering something under his breath. Marge was no longer calm and collected as she usually was, letting her sobs ring out without a care in the world. Damien is dead, I replayed the statement in my mind, that woman just killed Damien. The rough yet reliable man that I have come to know so well was now laying down on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. Jack remained silent as Marge handed over a knife she kept on her. He took it and flashed her a warm smile, as if he was trying to thank her and reassure her that he was going to be fine. It pained me to watch the scene unfold; the pain I felt from my stab wound was numbed from the emotional trauma my group was facing as Jack impaled Damien's skull with tears streaming from his eyes.

The woman leaned over my right shoulder, knowing fully well that I was helpless in my current state. "Let's make a deal, you and I," she cooed in her silky voice. I refused to glance her way. I didn't want to give her anymore satisfaction than she already had. "If you come with me and become my loyal pet, I promise I will spare the rest of them," she negotiated. I hesitated; her offer was extremely tempting to me at the moment. I didn't want anyone else to die, and it was already bad enough that I had to watch Damien die, Jack hurt from both his physical and emotional wounds, as well as Cynthia getting shot and possibly following in Damien's footsteps. I sighed, gaining the attention of Jack, Marge and Cynthia who sat up to face me.
"If you are really going to spare them," I began to say. Cynthia's eyes began to tear up, her hand over her mouth in a muted gasp. Marge looked on in worry and Jack gripped the now bloody knife in his hands.
"Zee, you can't be serious," Jack nearly growled. I shook my head, feeling determined to save them from this hell. "I will go with you if you will really spare them. Let them live," I resigned dejectedly, "At least, before I go, let me talk to my group one last time." The woman hummed her approval and released me from my hold. I stumbled forwards towards them and felt Cynthia catch me in her arms, holding me tightly. I could feel her tears on my head as she openly sobbed.
"Cynthia," I began to say, but Jack wasn't finished with me yet. He grabbed me by my shirt and hoisted me into the air.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Jack yelled in frustration. I didn't even try to break away.
"Jack, stop," Marge made him lower me down. I didn't dare to look him in the eye. I knew why he was mad, but I knew I had to do this to make sure no one else would be dead. I forced myself to smile; I had to tell them that everything would be fine.
"Relax, Marge. I know why he's upset with me," I admitted, trying to maintain myself. I cleared my throat before continuing in a softer voice so that she wouldn't catch, "Listen up. I will be going with her for now. In the meantime, I leave Jack in charge of everything until I get back. I'll try to find a way to escape as well so don't worry about me too much."
"Zee," Marge spoke up, but Cynthia stopped her.
"How do we know you will be able to get out of that alive?" Cynthia said to me, her eyes searching my own. Before I could reply, she spoke again.
"How do we know that you will hold on long enough? When you have that black blood in you?" she finished her questioning.
"Cynthia!" I whispered loudly. Of all the times to bring that up! Especially when I was trying so hard to hide it.
"Zee, the coughing may have stopped for now but who knows what's going on with you now?" Cynthia kept going, trying to dissuade me from going through with my plans.

"I would rush you but I rather give you some last words before you leave," I heard the woman call out in a smug manner. I didn't even bother to grace her with more of my anger as I was too focused on Cynthia's words.
"What is the meaning of this, Zee?" Marge asked me darkly, "How long has this been going on?"
"Ever since she was ambushed by that horde," Cynthia answered quickly, not giving me any time to say anything on the matter, "She didn't want any of you to know because she didn't want to burden you all further."
"Cynthia, you promised me you wouldn't say a thing!" I hissed in anger. She glared at me with the same ferocity, "That was before you went ahead and became a torture victim for that disgusting bitch." I flinched a bit from hearing her curse, but I understood that it wasn't far from the truth. I turned to her and hugged her reassuringly.
"I promised you that I'll be back for you," I began to say, "I'd been thinking about this for awhile, actually. You know... us."
"What's this about?" Cynthia sounded confused, but didn't try to break away from me. Jack and Marge just stayed silent; I would think they were just as confused as Cynthia was. Even I didn't know what I was saying, but I felt that if I didn't say it now, I may not be able to in the future.
"I knew for a while now that you had some rather... interesting thoughts about me," I continued, feeling the heat radiating off of Cynthia's face through my vest and shirt, "And I never really minded it too much until recently. I..." I paused, trying to find the right words. In the end, I couldn't really find a nice way to say what was on my mind, so I spoke out freely.

"Every time I'm with you now, I feel a bit happier and stronger. Like I could do anything so long as you were there," I started again, "With everything going on and how we all had our stresses and worries, I could always count on you to be the one who was there to support me. You are the closest I have ever been to anyone other than my own family, and there were times when we talked alone that I felt that I could die for you without any hesitation. Just like now." I pushed Cynthia away from my body ever so slightly and looked into her eyes. Her eyes were full of longing and sadness; it almost tore up my resolve to leave. But I shook my head and made myself focus on the task at hand. "Cynthia," I finally spoke up again, "Ever since the first day we officially met I felt this desire to protect you from everything that was after your life. From those bastards that came looking for you to the ream hordes that were always out to get us, I felt a primal urge to protect you from everything. Seeing you get shot today... That's what's driving me to do this. I will not change my mind. Please understand why I'm doing this. For everyone. For you." I leaned forward and placed my lips against hers, reveling in her sweet taste mixed with the bitterness of her tears as they streamed down her cheeks. I felt her kiss me back in fervor, as if she wanted this moment to last. It was hard for me to break away this time, but I forced myself to part, letting her go and walking over to the manipulative woman once more. She smiled at me in a sick and twisted manner and wrapped her arms around me like a snake coiling around its prey.
"Finally done talking, I see," she hummed, "Shall we be off then, pet?" I gritted my teeth as she pronounced "pet" in that condescending silky voice of hers. I turned myself around to take one last look at them, trying to stay determined as I looked towards Cynthia, the blood from her bullet wound still flowing strongly. I flashed them a sad smile and mouthed goodbye before turning away and walking off with the woman right behind me.

It took everything that I had not to scream in pain through my gag as she strung me up against a wooden cross with metal chains and began to whip me mercilessly with a spike-tipped whip. She laughed every time the whip cracked against my skin, drawing blood from everywhere and splattering on my clothes that were scattered all over the ground. The only saving grace I had was that she let me keep my undergarments on.
"Oh please give me more screams!" the mad woman laughed hysterically with a sadistic expression on her face. I didn't dare to open my eyes - they stung so much from the spikes coming close to my eyes, drawing blood on my forehead. I tried to hold on, but my consciousness was slowly fading out, and I thought I would have a chance to relax. I was wrong. She splashed water on my face and left me coughing and gasping for air as she pulled out my gag. I coughed and sputtered but tried to remain strong as she held my face up by my chin, forcing me to look into her piercing red contacts.
"I'll make sure you never get to rest, my pet," she cooed in a sickening sweet voice, smiling wickedly at my broken form. I was glad that they didn't get to see me as I was at the moment; bloody gashes throughout my body and bruises from the times she used her club. A few burns graced my back from the fire torture I received a bit earlier when I first came in, with blisters already burst due to whipping. I looked like a broken mess, numbed from the amount of trauma I was receiving all at once. She had one of her men fetch her a mirror and forced me to look at my own reflection, eyes dulled from the numbness and blood trickling from the side of my mouth due to internal bleeding.
"Look at yourself. How sad," she mocked me, "The young, strong leader reduced to that of a broken spirit resting in the flesh of a girl. This look suits you better, don't you think?" She giggled to herself as she had the mirror taken away. This was just my first day and yet I was already so broken to this extent. How I was going to escape was the least of my worries.

At last, she retired somewhere far away, leaving two of her men to guard me from the inside. I panted heavily, trying my best to cope with the pain I was already in. The cuts and bruises were bad enough, but when it came time for her to brand me... that pain was the worst. I remember watching her sear my right arm with a design of a dripping cross - her sign. Even now, a long while after the torture ended for the day, it made me gag to see her mark on me. I was actually branded, I thought numbly, she's branded me as her own now. I heard heavy footsteps approaching me and saw a bottle in my vision. Looking up, I found that it was one of her guards, a solemn look in his face.
"Look kid, I don't know how you got put in this situation, but understand that me and my buddies didn't want to do this either," the man spoke in a hushed voice. I looked over to the other guard and noticed that he was keeping his eye outside of my room, as if he was watching for someone.
"I'll tell you this much: me and my buddy back there are the next ones to leave this place with Hannah," he continued, "She has plans to talk to them again and try to kill them. We can't help you too much now, but we need you to trust us."
"Darryl, she's coming," the other man whispered. The man named Darryl gave a curt nod, forcing me to drink the contents of the bottle he held out for me.
"That stuff will help numb the pain," he explained quickly, turning to head back to his post, "Just hang in there, okay?" I gulped audibly. I didn't know what he meant, but I didn't mind it too much. With her crazed laughter echoing the halls outside my room, I tried to mentally prepare myself for another round.