How long have I been stuck here for? What is going on outside? Questions bombarded my head whenever I was awake. My arms and legs were covered in bandages and my clothes were splattered with blood.

Everyday, Dillon would come and have his "play time" which usually consisted of knives, kicking, and electrocution. He has no creativity with torture either. I thought wryly. Same old thing each time.

Someone different always came to bandage my wounds after. It was a different member each time. So far, each of the other members has come to fix me up. But the numbers don't add up. If I remember correctly, there were six people in Syndicate 42 including Dillon. But only four people routinely came by to patch me up. Does that person have special privileges? Or is it something else?

I released my pent up frustration in a loud sigh. I can't do anything. I can't move. I'm aching. I'm exhausted. I've lost so much blood. How the hell am I even still alive?

The shrieking noise of the door opening came. Torture time. Dillon walked in with a smirk and knives in his hand. Again? I looked at his approaching figure with half opened eyes. I don't care anymore.

I didn't even notice when the first knife flew at me, striking my arm. It sliced past my skin before hitting the wall behind.

Dillon gave an exaggerated sigh. "Why won't you just cooperate with me here? Your reactions are so boring."

I scoffed. "I'm covered in bandages. I have no energy left. Just kill me already."

"Hmm... nah. At least, not right now. We'll kill off your friend first before it's your turn. Although, he isn't that far from death." Dillon ended with a proud, sadistic grin.

I stopped short. Hugh. All this time I had been too focused on myself that I had forgotten that Hugh was in the same predicament as me. I need to get out of here!

"We'll kill him off faster if I'm in a bad mood after play time! So make it interesting!" Dillon said as he threw another knife. It was aimed directly at my face. I moved my face instinctively to the side to dodge the knife. It slit my ear slightly before wedging into the wall.

Next moment, Dillon was in front of me, kicking his foot into the other side of my head. I knocked onto the hilt of the knife, which slipped out of the wall fell onto the floor behind me. Blood pooled into my mouth and I spit it out unceremoniously, a metallic taste still on my tongue. I felt some blood trickle from my mouth down to my chin.

"You can do better than that!" Dillon nearly squealed before his heel dug into my stomach. I let out a strangled cry and heaved out nothing. I haven't eaten in days.

I breathed in and out heavily before my air pipe was constricted by Dillon's hand wrapping around my neck, pushing me back and strangled me. I gagged and tried to force my limbs to move. To push him away, make him loosen his grip. Can't breathe...

Dillon wrapped his hand around my throat even tighter before throwing me onto the floor and releasing me. I started coughing hacking and wheezing, trying to get air back into my lungs. Tears pooled in my eyes and blurred my vision. All the sounds surrounding me mixed into one but was drowned out by the sound of the thumping of my heartbeat.

Dillon said something but his voice was mixed together with the sound of my heavy breathing. The sound of the door to the room closing reached my brain and I understood that he had left. I try to calm down my wheezing. I tried to move my arms and reach for my neck. They twitched slightly and shakily began to follow my orders, only to stop short not even halfway through.

I relaxed my body and stayed in the position I was in and retreated into sleep. The sound of the door opening again woke me. The sound of wheels squealing as a cart was wheeled into the room told me that it wasn't Dillon, but one of his lackey's coming to fix me up.

"Can't he at least take the knives back with him? Geez." A male voice grumbled as the sound of metal clanking as he threw the knives onto the floor near me. I cracked one eye open slightly to see how far away the knives were before closing it again. He had only used two knives this time but he had left all six knives in the room. No wonder this guy's annoyed.

With a sigh laced with annoyance, he bent down and took out a key to unlock my shackles. That's unusual. They don't usually remove my chains. Once he had removed the chains from all my limbs, I heard his clothes rustle as he stood up, chains clinking together as he moved. He tsked, "Need to add some more of the toxin to this thing." I frowned slightly hearing that.

I heard the chain fall back onto the floor followed by the sound of him rummaging through the first aid supplies on the cart. Grabbing what he needed, he crouched down next to me.

I grabbed the knife nearest to my hand and slashed blindly in his general direction. He shouted out in pain and I snapped my eyes open. I had slashed across his arm. Blood was slowly beginning to make its way out of the cut. Grunting, I drove the knife into his foot right beside me. He screamed bloody murder.

He collapsed and pulled out the knife with his other arm. The one I had sliced with already going limp. So there are still some of the toxins left on the knives.

Adrenaline pulsed through me and I began to push myself up. My arms shook as I pushed up into a sitting position. I felt my hair being yanked and I swung the knife in that direction. He screamed again. I had cut his hand. I had cut off a little of my hair as well.

Finally in a sitting position, I leaned back onto the wall to catch my breath. I have to be careful with how I use my energy. Grunting, I stabbed the knife into the wall and used it as a support to push myself up to stand.

I brought myself to my knees before taking a breath and lifted a leg to plant a foot on the floor. I let out a high pitched noise as I forced myself up. Now on both feet, I push away from the wall but immediately sway and stumble on my feet and my legs shook, threatening to collapse again. Damn. I haven't walked in ages.

I looked over at the person I stabbed. He was struggling standing up since the toxin had started to spread. I began to make my way to the trolley that was pushed into the room. He stuck out a leg, one that I haven't inflicted harm on yet, I tripped over and grabbed onto the cart to stop myself from falling to the ground.

I pushed myself upright again. My vision was slightly blurred and I was breathing like I had just run a marathon. I took the metal tray on the cart and tipped it over, spilling the contents. I held onto the tray and stumbled over to the man. With a grunt, I swung the tray into his head with as much strength as I could.

I dropped the tray after, leaning over with my hands over my knees, panting. I grabbed another knife and cut his leg and arm slightly just to be safe.

I turned back to the medical supplies, and with shaking hands, bandaged myself up and changed my previous bandages. I might have moved a little too much since my previous wounds have reopened. Might explain the dizziness.

The chains that had held me to the wall caught my eye as I finished up the bandaging. Reaching over, I grabbed them and brought them close to observe them. Beneath the metal cuffs, there were small spikes and some were dripping with liquid. They kept toxins in here too? He mentioned that they needed to add more to this. So it's ran out.

I grimaced and tossed the chains back onto the floor and began to make my way out the door. The hallway outside was dimly lit and empty. I looked both ways to make sure no one was coming and stepped out. There was a dead end to my right. I leaned onto the wall to support myself as I made my way down the left hallway. My legs were still shaking and not strong enough to fully support me.

Why is it so empty? Are they all out for a mission? Or is this just not where they usually stay?

My teeth started chattering and goosebumps appeared on my arms. My eyes darted back and forth. Where am I going? Where is the exit? And... I stopped walking.

Should I go rescue Hugh or escape first? I bit my lip as I thought about this and my nails scratched the wall beside me, as if trying to dig into the wall.

I'm too weak right now. So if I go and try to save Hugh, I might not be much help. Hell, I can barely hold myself upright. But if I can get out. I can find the others. They can help me. I can also tell the management about what really happened. Yeah. That's what I should do. Sorry Hugh. But you'll have to endure this a little longer.

I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled a deep, shaky breath. I released it and opened my eyes, continuing to make my way down the hallway.

The hallway was a continuous straight path. The lights got dimmer and dimmer the further I went. At one point, the fluorescent white light was replaced by a much less bright orange light, some were flickering on and off.

When I finally saw stairs that led to, hopefully, the outside, I let out a sigh of relief. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see the blaring red EXIT sign.

"I was wondering when you would get here."

A cold chill ran through my body as I stood there dumbfounded. Dillon stepped out from what may have been a small passageway next to the exit. He stood there, arms crossed and a demeaning smirk on his face.

"How...?" All hopes of escaping was destroyed. My legs threatened to collapse under me but I dug my nails into the wall, to grip onto the something and hold myself up. I will not show any signs of weakness.

"Your face said it all." Was all the explanation he offered me. "All your thoughts, emotions... they all show on your face."

Footsteps came from behind me but I was still too shocked to move. I heard them fire something and two objects came in contact with my skin and I screamed.