The Yin-Yang Complex

Panic?

"What do you mean Sebastian is missing?" Barry snapped at Joe over the phone. He was just fast asleep, only to be woken by Joe calling him in the middle of the night. He was not in a good mood.

"I mean, Captain Singh reported him as missing for just over 24 hours" Joe replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Alright, I will come down to the station," Barry grumbled as he checked his watch. It was quarter past one, he wasn't worried either, Sebastian was the type to disappear, unexplained for weeks and never tell anyone where he went.

The Flash arrived at the station in no time at all. The elevator doors smoothly clicked open as he stepped inside the police department. There were only a few officers at desks or hanging around the massive stacks of paper they had on top of their computers. Barry was more interested in the soft chatter coming from the concerned faces of Joe and his father at the bottom of the stairwell. He grumpily made his way over with a slightly dampened mood. Joe turned to him with a stern face, he knew what Barry was thinking. "What did Sebastian do this time?" Barry tried to cheer himself up with a half smirk.

"Well, from what Captain Singh told us, there is a high possibility he has been murdered or taken captive," Joe explained to Barry, his tone was unwavering and firm.

"Are you sure he hasn't just forgotten to check in?" Barry asked, he really doubted Sebastian would let himself fall into criminal arms, he was much to smart for that.

"No, because of the high level of danger on the criminal he was tracking, we put a device on his phone that tell us where he is, and it's impossible to turn off without opening up the phone and doing it manually," Joe assured him.

Barry felt a spark of worry, but he was still doubtful, "okay, what are we going to do?" He asked, he was confused as to why they were even here in the first place.

"The officers are going to try and find Sebastian tonight, they want you and me at the station for work purposes, but I asked for Henry to come along, just in case," Joe replied with a crooked smile.

Sebastian woke with a jolt. He grumbled as crippling pain ripped through his body and banged against his head. He slowly peeled open his eyes, he was sitting on something hard, like a metal chair, his hands and legs were roughly tied up, assuring he couldn't move. The room he was in was dark, but he could make out a concrete floor and a wooden door that was badly fitted to its doorframe, letting in streams of light through the gaps. The smell of alcohol burned the inside of his nose and throat, it was as though he himself had been covered in it. He might well have been, he had no idea how long he was unconscious. Slowly he began to collect himself and gather his thoughts, the last thing he remembered was being knocked out by Charles Clarington, he really was a jerk, just like his brother. He still couldn't quite piece together or figure out where the random memories he now remembered had come from, they surely couldn't be his, he hadn't been through anything like that. Then again, if that had happened during the entire year of memory he lost, than that would explain how he suddenly learned how to free run over rooftops. Sebastian began to wonder how he was going to get out of this, he was sure that eventually the Captain would catch on to him not checking in and find him, but he had no idea how long it would be until then.

Sebastian felt the cold begin to wrap its chilling arms around him, he could feel fear slowly beginning to take over his body. He took deep breaths and tried to calm himself. He had no idea how long he was sitting, stressing about something he couldn't change. He eventually heard footsteps from above him, they were heavy and the wooden roof of the cellar creaked and groaned under pressure. Sebastian took in a sharp breath. He heard the creaking of a doors hinges and someone descending stairs, coming towards him. He held his breath as the door to the basement slowly creaked open, blinding him with light. He tried to keep his eyes open as they adjusted, but he could only see a shadowy silhouette turn on the light switch, which further blinded him. He heard a deep and evil chuckle coming from the man in the doorway, which he assumed was Charles. Sebastian's eyes slowly adjusted and he peered over towards the man. He was right, it was Charles, and in his hand was a bright red petrol holder. He felt panic grasp his body, in the maniac's other hand was a very sharp looking knife.  Sebastian felt his gut clench as he drew closer with a sadistic grin, "so you are alive?" Charles smiled. The investigator felt no need to reply, "that's a pity, how about we change that?" His face was crazed and maniacal.

"Don't worry, I won't keep your alive for too long," Charles plastered a grin on his face, his eyes were wild with glee, "but I do need a target to practice my knife throwing," the criminal put down the petrol container and flipped the knife with his hands. Sebastian felt his stomach twist. Was he going to die? Charles took advantage of Sebastian's fear and threw the knife, it embedded itself into the detective's shoulder.  He cried out in shock and pain, he felt warm blood begin to soak his clothes and trickle down his skin. Through his pain, he could still hear Charles's loud and obnoxious laughter. The knife had cut quite deep. "I think once more and I will be a master. Sebastian felt dread shred him, he would do anything to be out of here, he couldn't process the massive amounts of pain and fear. He he gasped for air as terror crushed his lungs. Yet Charles cockily walked over and yanked the knife out of his shoulder, an evil grin was plastered on his face. He was enjoying it. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut Charles plunged the knife into his thigh, Sebastian cried out again, his vision turned red at the corners and his throats was raw from screaming. Charles slowly twisted the knife, Sebastian writhed in pain, he continued to yell in agony, no matter how much his throat hurt.

Charles pulled away slowly, leaving the knife in Sebastian's leg. The investigator slowly caught his wits, he could feel his clothes being soaked in warm blood. He felt the pain ripple through his body, but he kept his eyes plastered onto Charles, who was slowly unscrewing the lid from the red container. The stench of gasoline smacked him in the face. His breathing hitched again, despite him already struggling. He was going to be burned alive.