I knew we had at least climbed two flights. All the men holding me stopped walking. I heard a door open, a squeaky door open.

I heard a familiar voice say, "So you've brought me another girl. Put her down!" As the thousands of hands released me, I fell to the ground. My hip banged the cold, hard floor, and I grunted in pain. As I looked around, I saw where I was. I was in a long hallway that had no windows. Torches gave off an eerie glow and cast enormous shadows. As my vision cleared, I looked at the man who told everyone else to drop me. He was tall with blue eyes. He also had curly, blonde hair.

"You," I whispered. For a few seconds, he looked at me with confusion. But then, he smiled. "Well, if it isn't the puny little girl I met on the street! You know you do pack quite a punch." I grimaced. In order to save my siblings, I had to know where the man was hiding them.

As I was about to ask him where they were, one of the men in uniform said, "What do you want us to do with the girl?"

The man turned and answered, "Take her downstairs. To the basement."

The man in uniform said, "Yes, Grant." Right before they got hold of me again, I stood up and stepped toward Grant.

"Where are my siblings?" He leaned down so that I could feel his breath on my face.

"You'll know soon enough." The men in uniform grabbed me once again. My mouth and eyes were covered. I tried kicking again, but all the men were no match for me. We went down two flights of stairs. Suddenly, the threw me to the ground. There must've been steps between me and the men because I flew quite a few feet and hit the ground hard. I hit my head, but not hard enough to make me unconscious. I turned and ran to the door, but the men closed and locked it. When I turned back around I saw what looked like an old-timey dungeon. There were cells on either side of me, and I couldn't see the end of the vast hallway. I walked a little bit, wondering why they didn't put me in one of these cells. Each cell had a few people in it, seemingly siblings. Some only had one person, some had dead bodies. They must've died here in the dungeon. I passed only a few more cells when I spotted Sandro and Jazmyn. Sandro was lying on the floor, and Jazmyn was sitting next to him. She had ripped part of her dress and was using it to staunch blood from Sandro's shoulder.

"Jazmyn? Sandro!" I shouted. Jazmyn jumped up and ran to the bars of the cell door. She didn't seem to be in the phase anymore. I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"Devyn!" She said. She had a scratch on her face and her lip was split.

"Are you guys okay?" I said, clutching Jazmyn's hands around the metal bars. Jazmyn turned to look at Sandro.

"I'm fine, but Sandro is unconscious." Jazmyn's voice wasn't quiet or shy when she said that. I could hear confidence and strength in her voice. Her eyes shone with the want for freedom. "When the poison wore off, we were in a weird building. Sandro kicked one of the men off instinct, and the man fired a gun at him and missed. But the bullet bounced off a wall and hit him in the shoulder. Then as I was running to see if he was okay, one of the men grabbed me and scratched my face. When I turned around, the tip of a gun hit my lip. He said, 'If you try and make one more move to run away, we'll kill you and your little brother.' It was that moment when I knew we had to get out of here, but not right that minute." I could see a change in Jazmyn. She wasn't scared, she was determined.

"I need to find a way to open this door!" I said, shaking the bars. Behind Jazmyn, Sandro grunted. Jazmyn ran over to him.

"Sandro? Are you alright?"

Sandro shook his head and mumbled, "My shoulder. It hurts." He squeezed his eyes in pain and exhaled a long, slow breath.