CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

Jerome's girl. (Jerome)

"Take my hand. Take it!" The boy reaches out.

You shake your head, violently. This would be a dangerous move.

"Fine. You had your chance." He rips you from your seat on the bus and pushes you to the front, cackling maniacally. "Greenwood, put her in the chains."

He follows his orders. The chains clamp tight around your small wrists. The weight of them pulls your arms down. You breathe rapidly and your mind is racing. How are you going to get out of this?

"I'll get the gas, Jerome!" A scrawny man calls out.

Hmm...Jerome.

"I want you all know, this was a very difficult decision for us." Jerome paces down the bus isle. He casually puts his gun to a distressed girl's head. Everyone on the bus moans in fear. "It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party."

'Greenwood' flicks your cheer skirt up. "We're all happy you're with us. Jerome made a good choice."

You tense up. The taste of his bitter breathe makes you gag.

"In the end, we decided to skew a little younger. Youth won the day!" Jerome announces. He changes his excited expression to fit a remorseful emotion. "Sorry."

Jerome approaches you. You inhale deeply and hold it. He takes a piece of your hair and pushes it behind your ear. While doing so, he gazes deeply in your eyes. In this moment, he seems innocent, vulnerable even. That quickly changes when he turns cold and springs in a 180.

"Gimme an 'O'!" He shouts. People respond with distressed groans. You would too, if not silenced by fear and chains.

Jerome points his gun to the sky and fires it. You jump in place and scrunch your face together.

You can see Jerome is angry. "I said gimme an 'O.'"

Your fellow cheerleaders respond this time. "Gimme an N."

"N."

"Gimme another 'O.'"

"Ohhh."

Greenwood's breath hits you like a brick. "You'll be giving me an 'O' later." Worst pickup line ever. It gives you chills down your spine.

A hose is passed from the scrawny man to Jerome. He glances at you before grabbing it. "What does that spell? Oh nooo." With one pull of a lever, large amounts of liquid spill out, dousing all the girls and few guys on the bus. They shriek and squirm, but there's nowhere to go considering their hands are trapped in cuffs. The gas stench resides at your throat.

Jerome walks back to you and forces you out of the bus aggressively. "Come on, beautiful."

He reaches in his back pocket for a lighter. "Take her to the truck." He instructs.

Greenwood cups each hand over an ass cheek and pushes you to the gas truck. Small puddles begin to form in your eyes, blurring your vision. Your peers are about to be fried and you're stuck with a mesh of crazies. Greenwood shoves you to the middle seat and positions himself in the driver's spot.

"So. You know what Jerome wants you for, right?" Greenwood asks. You tighten your lips and swallow hard. "You're his prop." He advances his body towards you. "But. You can be shared." His dirty, gruff face gives you an inch of breathing room. With your hands bound, you use your legs to push yourself back against the window. You twist your head in a panic. Anything to get distance between you and this creep.

His massive,callus hand runs its way up your inner thigh. This can't be happening. The air feels dense and breathing is an impossible task.

You lift your legs and Greenwood keeps hold of your thigh by squeezing tight. You attempt to ruin his efforts by smashing your feet in his chest, but he is too sturdy. You keep wiggling, moving your limbs aimlessly. Meanwhile, all the squirming causes your head to collide with the window. All you can think is "keep fighting."