Revenge Is Best Served Conscious.

3:00 A.M (GMT8)

Darkness, that's all she could feel. A blank abyss, no way to feel the outside world at her fingertips. The last thing she could feel was the cold pavement smashed against her. The pouring of rain, the way her goosebumps rose on her skin. The swelling and shooting pain shot through her ankle. Laying on the ground, crawling to escape.

Did she escape? Doubtful, it was doubtful in the quiet abyss of darkness. If she had escaped the man would be in cuffs, hauled back to the agency with loud applause. Amelia Reston catching the most notorious serial killer in the last decade.

Jake Parker would be locked behind iron bars.

The slipping away would have been a blessing, if not for the twinge of light hitting her closed eyelids. She feels it, it stings against her skin. Her eyes slowly flutter open, groaning at the stinging pain.

From the sprain of her ankle, to the drilling headache in her head. Amelia was filled with nothing but pain. Her eyes are unable to clearly focus, seeing only swarming patches of dim light. Nothing recognizable in the slightest, even if the lights were brighter.

Inside of her mouth is some kind of cloth, preventing her from being able to speak at all. It's shoved a ways into her mouth, she screams but to no avail.

Moving her hands up she beards the clinking of metal. Head slowly moving down to look at one of her wrists. Her eyes widen, layers of vision piling over each other. The metal was cold, tightly grilling her wrists down onto the chair she was sitting in.

They were her own handcuffs, she knew them too well. Just not on her wrists.

Her vision starts to focus, emerald hues scanning her surroundings. All she could see in the darkness was hanging bulbs, swinging side to side. Whatever they swung showed walls of cement, but nothing of large detail to show where she was.

Rapidly her heart drums against her chest, she could feel the sweat beading down her face. Her wrists try to pull up once more, yanking back down to the arms of the chair. Amelia's mind slowly realizes the predicament she was in, frantically trying to pull herself from the chair.

Looking down she realizes her ankles are tied to the chair. Completely immobilized, in an unknown location. The fear was starting to rise, bile pushing its way up her throat. Amelia heavily breathes, looking around for any sign of escape.

A chuckle arises from the darkness. "Would ya like me to take the cloth out now?"

Stepping in front of her was Jake, who pulled on one of the lights to illuminate more of the room and himself. His disguise of all black is no longer present, dressed in semi normal attire. However his button up shirt is stained in blood, hands covered in leather gloves. That devilish smile spreads across his lips as he stares at her, only a few feet away.

Her eyes widened, looking behind him at the walls. They were covered in photos of her, tkane when she didn't even know he was there. Some with her father, with Dallas, by herself: they all centered on his hatred for her. Jake had done a number on multiple of the photos, sprawling words of anger and malice. Others ripped halfway off the walls, torn to shreds by his bare hands.

There's a table next to her, out of the corner of her eye she can see the plague mask he had worn so proudly. On top of a various collection of knives, weapons, no doubt for torture. This had to be the place he had hidden himself for so long, kept himself invisible.

Jake had become smarter than she had thought, it had her completely trapped: in both ways.

Amelia fixes her eyes back onto him, eyebrows furrowing in anger. He had her trapped like a prisoner, and yet he was trying to be formal with her. There was nothing between them that would be fixed by casual conversation. Jake Parker had committed multiple acts of murder, killed innocent people that she held close to her heart.

He could rot for all she cared.

"Come now, Amelia. I'm givin' ya the opportunity to speak, don't ya want it?"

She silent, before slowly nodding. If she had the chance to speak, she was going to get out whatever she could from him. Or get to insulting him, whichever left her lips first. He crotches down in front of her, gently pulling the cloth from her mouth. As it's pulled from her mouth, Amelia gags. coughing and trying to catch her breath from the lack of air.

Once she catches her breath, she grits her teeth. "You fucking son of a bitch!" Amelia barks, leaning forward in the chair. She was held back by the handcuffs, Jake rolling his eyes.

The cloth is forced back into her mouth once more, Amelia choking on ths dry fabric going back down her throat. Squeezing her eyes shut she shakes her head, pulling her wrists up to try to get out of the restraints. Her wrists were killing her, she could see the bruising rings around them.

Pesky tears fill her eyes, falling down her cheeks. The pain was unbearable, the vulnerability was showing more than ever. She was useless, no plan to get herself out of this mess. If only she hadn't met him in the first place, she wouldn't be in this mess. It was all her fault, it was always going to be her fault.

Jake shakes his head, "Tsk, tsk Amelia… I said ya could speak, but not so fuckin' disrespectfully." He leans forward, their noses almost touching. "Now.. Would ya like me to remove the cloth, so you can get to speakin' with me?"

The last person on Earth she wanted to see had her left with only one option: His. Any sane person would never speak to someone who did the damage he had done to her, but Jake wasn't sane. He was down right delusional, believing he had done nothing wrong. Lives that he took were nothing but roadblocks to being with her. He had promised he would change for her.

He only became worse, he never was going to change.

Amelia nods, Jake pulling the cloth out of her mouth once again. A little cough leaves her throat, but quickly she goes silent. The man in front of her rises from his position, looming footsteps trailing around her. She doesn't even move her head to look at the direction he's moving, eyes fixated on the wall. His hands tightly grip onto her shoulders, her hands squeezing into fists. The cold feeling of his skin trails up to the middle of her neck. His large hands were wrapped around the small figure of her throat.

"I never thought I'd touch your soft skin ever again." His tone is breathy, she could feel his breath on her ear. Jake trails his tongue on her earlobe, Amelia wincing at the sudden contact. He was disgusting, touching all over her like she was some kind of toy.

The cold rush of his hands doesn't stay in one place, now moving down to her arms. Slowly trailing down her forearms, humming in satisfaction. FIngers rubbing against the warmth of her skin, it felt all the more cold. It had the hairs on her arms sticking up, the goosebumps visible on her skin. Amelia tries her best to keep a straight face, keeping her eyes locked on the wall of ripped photographs.

He chuckles, "The good old times Amelia, don't ya miss 'em?" The touching on her arms pulls away, hearing his loud boots pushing against the floor.

In front of her again, his hand presses against the table. Holding himself up, eye switching to the items on the table. His free hand grips onto the plague mask, bringing up to her vision. The whole time his smile was growing, he was amused by this. She is unable to leave his little show, being forced to participate.

"The way our bodies intertwined, our minds becomin' one." Jake sighs, his eye trailing down to his disguise.

Choosing to sit in silence, he looks back to her. Head tilting to the side, eyebrow raised. She wasn't going to give him the amusement he was looking for. Yet his smile was just as wide as before, perhaps it didn't matter if she said anything at all.

The man fake pouts, waving the mask in his hand. "What, no words for me? What happened to my beautiful little prize, I fought so hard to win."

It had her stomach turning, he truly saw her as an object. He didn't love her, he never did. A twisted form of connection, a deranged image of affection. There was nothing there, there hadn't been for a long time. Long before she had carried out her actions, long before she found out he was to blame for deaths around her.

"You can take those memories and let them die with you, you sicko." Amelia snarls, eyes narrowing at him. "I had no intention of remembering you, or the shitty things you've done to me."

Nothing could pull this man out of his delusions, that he thought she would want to rekindle what they had. She had loved him more than anything, gave him her time and devotion. Did so much to try to help him turn his life around. Look where all the efforts went, he went in the other direction. He angered her, she hated him. There was nothing but hatred in her heart for him, blood boiling anger.

"You're nothing but a fucking coward, a weakling who hides behind his dead daddy's persona." There's venom in her tone, a hiss from her lips.

The words seem to affect him, the widened smile pulling back for his lips to pull into a straight line. Singular eye of blue staring at her, Jake doesn't move. As if he was analyzing her, her words.

Jake nods his head to, "A coward.. Huh." Turning his back to her, continuing to nod his head to himself.

Amelia growls, "The worst thing that's come into my life. A mistake like you." Insult after insult, he doesn't turn back to her. She tries to pull her wrists up once more, maybe to break the chair arms with her strength. They rattle, but there is nothing but the noises bouncing on the walls. No luck of escape, no luck on her own.

With pace, Jake spins on his heels to face her. Looking down on her, his glare shooting daggers through her entire body. It was psychotic, eye widened open. The missing piece of his face made it all the more horrifying under the slim light, the haunting picture of man far gone. There's not a word from his lips, he's completely silent. Her heart beating fast against her chest, swallowing back the saliva in her mouth.

"I wouldn't be–"