I woke up to the cold air against my overheated face. The pain in my cheek had faded and when I opened my eyes, I took in my surroundings, grateful that I could see again.

I was in what looked like a basement; the walls were bare, as was the floor, not counting the pile of blankets that were piled on top of me. A staircase that led upstairs was on the far opposite side of the room.

It was so quiet the only sound I could hear was that of my soft breath. I sat up too quickly, and pain in my head exploded, but only for moment. I leaned over, my long straggly hair covering my face. My hands went up to my forehead as I put my fingers against my temple, trying to soothe the small headache that was there.

I stayed like that for a while, trying to compose my thoughts. I needed to assess the situation before trying to leave.

I couldn't come up with anything important. The only thing I could do was go through the door. I was unsure that it would work, but it was the only option I had.

I stood quickly, ready to move. The cold air hit my body when all the blankets fell down around my feet. I froze and looked down at my body. I was wearing nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I grew angry and looked for any bruises. I found none except the ones on my upper arms, in the form of hands.

Although I was glad for no other pain, I couldn't help but be both pissed and scared at the same time.

I couldn't leave like this

I sat back down, covering my body with the blankets, but leaving my head poking through.

The knob from the door at the top of the stairs rattled. My blood went cold and I shivered, despite being wrapped up.

The door swung open, darkness behind him. How could he see where he went in that darkness?

"I see you're awake." He talked in barely more than a whisper, but I felt like he yelled.

He didn't move from where he stood. He just stared, trying to figure me out. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Eventually I said in quite possibly the most quiet voice I had ever used, "What do you want?"

His head jerked backwards. When we made eye contact again, his eyes were full on black, like they had been the day before.

Suddenly I knew what I was really dealing with.

"I want to know where the Winchesters are." He still whispered.

My head tilted to the side. "Who?"

"Like you don't know."

"I don't know. Just let me go, I don't have any information on the Winchesters, I don't even know who they are."

I blinked, and in that millisecond, Mr. Lawrence's body was several inches from mine, his nose almost touching my own. His eyes were full black. It had been unsettling from far away, But it was terrifying up close. You could see the tiny grayish veins that accompanied it.

I gasped and pulled back, but he grabbed my arms.

His whole countenance had changed. Mr. Lawrence yelled, "I KNOW YOU KNOW THEM! DON'T LIE TO ME; NOW TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!"

Tears prickled in my eyes. "I-I don't know them. Please, let me go!"

He growled loudly, and pulled the blankets off of me. He shoved me against the hard basement floor, and set the blankets on fire, without any tools.

I started sobbing, trying not to imagine what was going to happen next. Mr. Lawrence picked me up, and I started thrashing around in his arms, trying to get out, but they were strong and he didn't budge.

I was embarrassed.

He carried me up the basement stairs and into a room. There was nothing on the walls, no furniture, emptiness, just like the basement. There was no electricity so it was cold, and I was shivering.

Through that room, he pulled me into another room. This room was different than the others because it had furniture: a long, metal table, and a cabinet filled with who knows what.

Mr. Lawrence's body set me down on the table and strapped me in. I started to scream, "Help me! Somebody!" but, not a surprise to me, nobody came.

My body was flat against the table, and my arms were stretched high above my head. My fingers prickled from loss of circulation.

Mr. Lawrence walked over to me and, from the top of my side - about where my armpit was - to my love handle, used the knife that was in his hand, all the way down. A trail of blood trickled out, but it pooled on the side.

I screamed from the pain and almost blacked out, but no matter how hard I tried to close my eyes for good, they wouldn't close. He would slice all up and down my arms and legs. He would hit me, and whip me with a metal thin bar.

This went on for hours, but I didn't have any information on the Winchesters, so I couldn't tell him what he wanted.

The next morning after I woke up, every one of my cuts had vanished. I was still in the same position, and I couldn't feel my hands or feet any longer because of the position, but all the cuts and bruises were gone.

Mr. Lawrence came in and repeat everything he did to me yesterday, and would often yell at me, practically begging for information. Every once in a while he tried to get into my brain and see what I was thinking. I knew from a burning in deep in my cranium.

For three days this repeated. I'd wake up in the morning, my skin fresh, only to have him repeat the torture.

On the third day, he threw the rod away, and screamed, "IF THIS WILL NOT WORK I WILL HAVE TO TRY ANOTHER APPROACH!"

My body was still in utter pain before it completely vanished. I looked down, and all the cuts and bruises were gone. I sighed and started to fall asleep, even though I was still crying.

"Oh, no, you don't." Mr. Lawrence unstrapped me and picked me up. I was too tired to move so I couldn't fight him off. I closed my eyes but he shook me. I looked back up and realized we were back in the basement. There were more blankets than before, and he laid me down on top of them roughly. I curled over, giving up. Until I heard a zip.

I turned around quickly, but shielded my eyes when I saw something I had never hoped to see: Mr. Lawrence with no clothes on. I started sobbing when I felt his hands grab my arms. He yelled, "Look at me!" I did.

"Good," he said. "Since you won't respond to me any other way, let's see if this works."

I started sobbing, "No, no, no, no, no," but no matter what I said or did, nothing stopped him. Mr. Lawrence's - or should I say his body, because that was not Mr. Lawrence - spread my legs apart, and scarred me in a way I was never hoping to be scarred.

With tears streaming down my face, I said, "No, stop, please I know this isn't you, just stop."

"Might as well enjoy this human body while I can," he said.

It hurt, I was in so much pain that it was all that clouded my thoughts, and I screamed.

Words came to my mind, and without thinking, I spoke them out loud. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus."

Mr. Lawrence seemed to stop momentarily. He shivered and gave me a look of both anger and terror at the same time.

I repeated the words, because it was all I knew. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Exorcizamus Te, omnis immundus spiritus. EXORCIZAMUS TE, OMNIS IMMUNDUS SPIRITUS!" I started to yell it and Mr. Lawrence pushed himself out and off of me. I kept yelling it and yelling it until he himself started screaming. Once more I yelled it and a black smoke threw itself out of his mouth. It was gone before I knew it, and Mr. Lawrence fell to the ground.

I scrambled over to my teacher as fast as I could, though I couldn't move my legs very fast because I was still in pain. I put my fingers to his neck to check if he was breathing, and luckily, he was. I started to shake him and yelled, "MR. LAWRENCE? ARE YOU OKAY?!"

I gave up when I realized he wasn't going to wake up any time soonBut then I realized something. I didn't want him to think he had done anything, so I moved back over to where his clothes were and grabbed them.

Quickly, before he woke up, I put all of his clothes back on him. When I finished, I wrapped myself back up in the blankets and laid down, ready to go to sleep. Darkness engulfed me and soon I was free of my thoughts.