The Faster one:The Flash x reader (Going through revision)

Taken

this is in the process of rewriting so go to the ———- to read the story normally

Y/n was walking down a small and desolate street. It was about three in the morning, the witching hour. Normally, she would be immersed in a deep slumber in her bed, but today was no normal day. You feel your phone vibrate against your leg. Swiftly, you flick it open and read the screen. You smile and accept the call, "Hey Hunter."
"Hey," he stutters.
"What's that crashing in the background?"
" nothing, where are you sweetheart?"
"The corner of bunts and grove, I think. Are you okay? You sound like your hurt." Worried began to seep into you. Through the static of the phone you could hear what sounded like lighting and glass falling. Hunter kept grunting and yelling at someone, but you weren't sure who.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He assures you then mutters under his breath, "Give it a rest."
"who are you talking to?"
"Sorry, it's nobody."
"Oh, alright. Why'd you call?"
"I need you to go home, okay?"
"Why?" You asked, beginning to walk fast. As you held the phone you searched through your purse for your pepper spray.
"Don't ask questions, just go home."
"I'm not going to just going to go home, where are you? Who's with you."
"Just go." He yells,
"Okay, let up on the tone please."
"Call me when your home okay?"
"Sure thing," you hand up the phone and turn around to go back home.
It's peaceful and quiet out, no cars no people, just soft silence. The air was cool and crisp, a break from the summer heat. You listened to the sound of your shoes on the concrete. As you're walking you start to notice the sound become louder. Before you know it your listening to footsteps other that your own.
You feel a strong nasty hand slide over your mouth and your waist, pulling you backwards into. Then four more hands grab onto your flailing legs. You muster up a piercing scream that couldn't possible be heard in the  empty street.

You try to wiggle your head out of the headlock that the person has you in. You feel something that looks like a gun handle hit your head as your vision blurs.
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You're walking down the dark foggy street, something doesn't feel right. It's 10:30, nobody is out, leaving you alone. You've just left a ceremony for dancing, and didn't win anything but your friend f/ng did. She won the best form award and your friend Oliver Queen, the host was talking to her. They were having fun and you didn't feel included so, you left. Looking down at your red lace dress with skin color cloth under it, you smooth it out. Admiring the lovely pattern that runs along the lower skirt of the dress.

You listen to the pitter patter of your black combat boots and the jingle of your silver chained necklace. At the end of it there is a circle locket with charms in it. A black cat, a red dress, a music note, pen, and a heart that says in memory of. The black cat for my (black) cat p/n, the red dress for tonight. A music note the represents singing and dancing, the pen because you love to write. The Heart with 'in memory of' reminds you of your dead d/p/n. The circle shaped locket creates the illusion of the charms floating.

You feel an usual pain in your stomach, you listen to a sound other than your own feet. Then step in a different pattern and here a misstep from behind me. Using skills from dance you can tell that it, whatever it is, walks about 4 feet behind you. You speed up just enough to make a difference, but not get noticed. Once about 7 feet you get you're pepper spray and sneakily slip it into your shoe. You love combat boots, you start to run as fast as you can but making sure to not let the pepper spray fall out. You feel a hand slide over your mouth and your waist, pulling my back. You try to scream but you can't, all you get out is a muffled yell that can't possibly be heard.

You try to wiggle your head out of the headlock that the person has you in. You feel something that looks like a gun handle hit your head as your vision blurs.

You wake up in a dark room, You're on a silver table

with your hands tied to the table. You see a rope that goes around your wrist through a small hoop on the table, binding you to it. You can hear the sound of footsteps going down the stairs in front of you. You pretend to be knocked out still so they don't know that you've woken. They have someone behind them, you look and see the person has on a suit. Your eyes are squinted just so you can see but look asleep.