Do You Believe In Magic?// Jack Wilder

They'll Come For Me

Bea's POV

I laid there in a pool of my own blood. Holy shit Arthur doesn't play around. I was bleeding from my nose, this little cut on my forehead that showed not signs of stopping, and I coughed up a share of the red liquid. I just laid there. Hoping to god Danny would come get me. They took videos on their phones and sent it to my number. Danny could find me by that right?

They can't call the cops. It's up to them to come get me.

Well I guess that means I get to see Jack soon.

Don't be so negative.

It is a negative though? I cried there, in my little lump. I tried to get up off the floor. My sweater was across the room and it was dreadfully cold. They took off my sweater when I got here, leaving my in my spaghetti strapped mini dress. Well it was white...

I got to my knees, screamed, then slumped back down. They mostly beat my face. But when I was unconscious they must have kicked my stomach. I coughed up a splatter of more blood. I sighed.

What would an illusionist do?

Play a trick.

That's it!! I'm a genius.

The abusers walked in after my screaming, but before they came it I stopped. I laid there and held my breathe.

Henley taught me a few things about being an escape artist, so I could hold my breathe for nearly 4 minutes.

"Shit." One man yelled.

"What?" The other one said. Then he looked at my limp body, not moving a millimeter on the floor.

"Oh shit!" He yelled.

"Arthur wanted us to get the Horsemen's plans!!"

"She's fuckin dead dude!"

"We have to hide the body..." There was a silence.

"RIGHT NOW!!" Then my limp body was being lifted off the floor.

"Where though?" I hear one ask.

"The bridge. Under the bridge." I hear an answer. I carefully let out some breath.

"Don't take her anywhere." I hear an unmistakeable accent that belonged to Tressler.

"Why?"

"She's not dead. She's a magician." The men dropped me and I yelped.

"You little bitch!" One kicked me in the stomach.

"We really will kill you!!" Another yelled.

"Please." I whimpered.

"Oh the first thing the girl says and it's please." I hear another voice say. I open my eyes to see another person in the room. Young. British. Kinda handsome.

Not nearly as handsome as Jack.

I grabbed on to his feet.

"Please! Please help me please! I won't tell anyone!" I cried hysterically. He kicked me off of him.

"Get up. Come on. You need a shower." The man with piercing blue eyes said.

"Don't let her fool you Walter." Arthur said as I was picked up again and brought into a nice house. "Walter" gave me 5 minutes to clean up and examine my cuts in the mirror. Split lip. Black eye. Forehead cut. Bruised ribs.

Could be worse. I could be dead.

"Hurry up Beatrice, if you wouldn't mind." Walter said. I put on my clean blue sweater and my underwear.

"Um... I don't have any pants." I said.

"On the back of the toilet." He said. I put on the leggings and walked out.

"Tell me. What's the plan for you horsemen?" He asked as we sat down to spaghetti.

"I don't know. We haven't planned anything yet." I denied.

"The eye didn't plan anything for you yet?" He asked. I looked into his eyes.

"No. The eye doesn't exist. If they did then Jack would be-" I cut myself off.

"Alive? Bea I heard about that. I'm deeply sorry for your loss, but if you do not comply, I will have Blane, right back there-" he said, pointing to the guy in the back of the dining room. "As the children say 'cap you.'"

"I told you I don't know." I said.

"Fine. I have a better idea." Walter said. He turned on the tv to the news.

Jack Wilder 'Horseman' Dies In Tragic Crash

"No!" I scream turning my head and looking away, hearing the undeniable sound of crashing and burning.

"Oh you haven't see it. Well you're about to. About 50 million times." He said. He jumped out of his seat and pulled my head to the TV.

"Stop please!"

"No one is going to hear you." Walter laughed.

"They'll come for me." I said, opening my eyes to the crash before me.

"Except for one." I could hear Walter's smirk.