Abducted

8. Mistaken

SAM'S POV

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Emily was tied to the table leg. Her dirty blonde hair was streaked with blood. How'd that get there? She hated me, why? I was always so nice to her, when Derik and Jackson were torturing her, I helped her. I cleaned her shirt, bloody as it was. So, why did she hate me? I walked into Anna's room.

"Why?" she had been sobbing everytime I tried to talk to her. She glared at me, hatred burning like a fire in her eyes.

"Why do you hate me?" I asked. I had asked her this so many times.

"You killed Easton," she hissed. I never did. I never would.

"I swear on my life I didn't," I retorted. Anna scoffed.

"Then go play bloody murder, Emily and I watched you slit his throat!" Anna yelled. I rolled my eyes. Girls, I will never understand them.

"Look, you probably had a nightmare," I said.

"THEN EXPLAIN WHY EASTON IS SITTING IN THAT ROOM DEAD!" Anna was yelling now, tears racing down her cheeks. She had me there. I shrugged and walked away. She screamed angry words at my back as I left. I wish I could help her, but I can't ressurect the dead.

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EMILY'S POV

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Anna was screaming at Sam. She hated him, and I didn't blame her. Sam walked in (I heard the door open and close). He held my hand. I jerked it away, banging my elbow on a table leg.

"Ow!" I hissed. Sam untied me and put me back on the couch.

"Here," he muttered, tossing something my way. It was a zip-up hoodie. I slipped it on and a tangy smell filled my nose. Blood. I touched the chest area and my fingers got all sticky. I gagged, this was Easton's gray hoodie, the one he had been killed in. He could take my shirt and say it was "too bloody", and then give me a piece of the crime scene to wear. Sam was messed up in the head. I pulled the hood up and hid in it anyway. Sam tugged the hood down, so I pulled it back up.

"Not now," I growled.

"Come on," Sam whined.

"No!" I snapped.

"Fine!" he retorted. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me into a wall. Like my concussion wasn't bad enough. I felt dizzy. I hid my face in my arms. Sam pulled me off the couch. The wind in my body was knocked out. I layed still. "Great," Sam muttered. He picked me up and walked out of the room, down a flight of stairs, and through some more doors. It smelled disgusting. Like rotting things. Sam leaned my head back and took off my blindfold. I closed my eyes against the bright light. Sam brushed his lips against mine and set me down.

I snapped.my eyes open the second he left. I was in a cement room, and hanging from the walls, were the long deceased. Boys and girls, all about my age. I retched. Easton was hanging right next to where I was sitting. Oh my, I was going to be part of his little collection. I looked at the corpses, some were beaten, some were sliced up, some had bones poking out of their rotting flesh. The smell was horrific, like sulfur and crap. Was I going to hang as well? I shuddered.

A/N Gross much? Haha! This was fun to write! I might do Sams POV once more, and maybe a little Anna too. Anyway, till next time!