"Ugh, son of a bitch." Jack muttered angrily under his breath once he woke up, remembering to breath shallowly due to the large bruise on his chest while he held a hand to the side of his head where the pain hurt the most. He assumed that was where Infelix had smacked him with the metal bat.

He noticed that he was now in a cell lying on an uncomfortable cot instead of chained back to back with Anti hanging on the ceiling like meat from a butcher shop. He also noticed that he was changed out of his competition attire and was now in a black suit similar to Infelix's.

"I was worried you wouldn't wake up." Anti admitted. He was sitting cross legged on the metal floor, his back against the wall dressed in a black suit as well along with a green tie that matched his hair.

"Mark!" Jack yelled hoarsely, his voice cracking. He hoped his friend would hear him wherever he was. He winced at the sound of his own voice, for once sounding too loud to himself.

He heard no reply.

"I already tried that." Anti sighed in exasperation, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

"Mark!" Jack tried yelling louder, resulting in him coughing.

"Shut up, he can't hear you!" Anti shouted, jumping up to his feet in a flash and glaring at Jack.

Jack's instincts kicked in before his morale as he jumped off of the cot and slammed Anti's face against the metal bars of their door, his patience long gone and temper flaring like a wildfire.

"I suggest you leave me alone unless you have an idea of how to get out of here." Jack growled threateningly before yanking Anti away from the door. He felt a small tinge of satisfaction when he saw a few bruises on his face that were caused by the bars.

"Will you let me explain?" Anti snapped, seeming to run out of patience as well.

"Will you tell the truth?" Jack countered warily, already guessing the answer.

Anti fell silent, his gaze dropping to look at the floor.

Jack had guessed correctly.

"I-"

"Forget it, I don't want to hear your excuses." Jack interrupted Anti as he sighed wearily. He slumped back down onto the hard cot, holding his head in his hands as he tried to think of an escape route.

He hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep until he heard Anti softly crying. His head bolted up, immediately alert as he scanned the small room for Anti.

He was huddled in the far corner away from Jack, his sleeves rolled down to reveal a seemingly endless amount of pale pink scars of various sizes, as well as a couple of fresh cuts that dripped blood onto the floor.

In his shaking hands he held a small black pocket knife coated with blood.

"Where did you get that?" Jack hissed, trying to take it away from him.

Anti didn't answer as he flinched away, making sure the weapon was just out of reach from Jack.

"Anti." Jack spoke in a calmer tone, kneeling down in front of him. Anti refused to meet his gaze, studying his shoes instead.

"Where did you get that?" Jack repeated.

"I-Infelix gave it to me...he knows that I do this sometimes." He stuttered as he gestured at his arms.

"Why?" Jack asked.

Anti shook his head. Instead of answering, he removed the green tie he was fiddling with earlier so Jack could see the large red horizontal scar across Anti's neck.

"I'm not the person you think I am." Anti explained solemnly as he put his tie back on to hide the scar, his head hung in shame.

"You're right." Jack stated, smiling sadly at Anti.

Anti's head snapped back up to look at Jack.

"Because you're not the traitor I thought you were." Jack added, tracing his finger along Anti's scars. Anti flinched in surprise but didn't stop him.

He had counted forty-seven scars on just his arms alone.

"I gave you the knife to kill him dummy."

Both Jack and Anti were startled when Infelix stopped in front of their cell.

"I don't do that anymore." Anti protested quietly.

"Shame. Ah well, I have a better idea in mind for you two anyway. It'll be so much fun!" Infelix clapped his hands together excitedly before walking away, leaving Anti and Jack to wonder what he was planning.

Whatever it was, they both knew it wouldn't be good.

"You didn't see where Mark went when the smoke clouded the rink?" The officer asked Amy the same question the last officer did, irritating her. She had been in the police station for several hours answering questions instead of going out and looking for Mark like she wanted to.

"No, like I said to the last cop, I didn't see anything through the smoke since it was so thick. I only felt Mark's hand being ripped away from me and then softly after that the smoke cleared." Amy explained impatiently.

"We're wasting time here, we need to be out there looking for them!" Amy voiced her thoughts.

"We need to interrogate you, your coach, Miss Hansen, and her coach before anyone goes anywhere." The officer stated.

Amy opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by the phone ringing.

The officer answered it, speaking only one word repeatedly: yes.

Amy's legs bounced as she clasped her hands together to keep from playing with her hair, which was a habit she had when she was anxious.

After what felt like forever to her, the officer ended the call and glanced over at Amy with a small grin.

"I believe your friend's coach found something."