Yours... 'til the End of the Line

Prologue

Searing pain coursed through her body like fire. It exploded in her mind with a blinding whiteness. She screamed in agony, though the noise would not make it past the leather strap that rested tightly along her mouth, hiding her chapped plump lips. The pain was like a white-hot blade that had been plunged into the core of the earth then pressed against her skin, ripping through her body. It felt as if her blood was replaced with ice and electricity wired straight into her spine.

The room flowed in and out of focus, following the rapid heartbeat that pounded through her ears. Strapped down like a beast, the skin around her ankles and wrists were raw and blood had begun to pool along the metal table.

Her body was sore, tired, and badly beaten. Bruises, old and new, littered her tanned skin. Cuts had begun to heal in various places over her body, but she knew they would be reopened. Her curly dark brown hair created a halo around her head. Tears poured from her deep hazel eyes. With her full chest rising and falling rapidly, she tried to take in the surroundings of the room, but it was useless. Her vision wouldn't focus properly on one area for too long.

It had been five weeks. Five weeks since she had seen the sun. Five weeks since she had seen her friends. Five weeks of torture. Five weeks of excruciating pain. She had begun to lose all hope. They kept asking her the same question, over and over...

Where is he?

The question was never more specific. She had no clue who he was or why they had taken her. When she didn't answer their questions to their satisfaction, they would resume the torture. The pain came in waves, her body healing unnaturally fast against their techniques. Hot rods, electrode therapy, knives, waterboarding... the works.

The man rounded on her once more, holding the red burning rod in his hands. His features were blurry. Colors mixed like paint in water, swirling around each other into one solid color of ugly yellow. He spoke in a tongue she couldn't decipher, not in her current condition at least. His voice crashed into her ears like waves, loud then immensely soft. As he stepped beside her, rod raised, just resting above her right leg, he asked the dreaded question.

"Where is he?"

Her voice came out muffled through the straps. Too tired and weak to clearly speak. She listened as the man groaned in frustration before loosening the strap and ripping it away from her face. A thick red mark spoiled her supple skin. She practically choked, taking a deep breath into her lungs.

"I won't ask you again... where is he?"

"Who –" her voice sounded fractured, weak. Taking a moment, she licked her lips with the little saliva that resided on her tongue. "Who is he?" she spoke just above a whisper.

"Don't play coy with me, Elettra. You know who we're after. Where is he?"

Elettra? Who's Elettra?

Her eyes widened as she racked her brain for a memory. This man had called her Elettra but it didn't make sense. She could not remember. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she prayed for some kind of memory of the name to come to her mind, but there was nothing. It was blank... just darkness...

A sinister smile crawled onto the man's shadowy face as realization dawned on him.

She didn't remember who she was, and he planned to use that to his advantage. Without hesitation, he plunged the hot rod straight through her skin. An earsplitting scream permeated the room, covering every surface in sight and trickled out through the closed door.

She may not remember who she was... but you will...

Author's Note:
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! Please leave comments or message me, I love hearing what you think! Also, if you have any ideas, send them my way!
This is a SLOW BURN! So be patient!