September 10th, 2005

'Must find help.'

In the same unholy hour of the night, a few days after when Finley and Damien had disappeared, another disappearance was about to take place.

The same unholy silence had descended again. There was no distinct path, perhaps a few roads and alleyways, but even that couldn't be seen properly in the darkness. The winds could be heard moaning in the distance and the only source of light was the half visible moon in the starless sky with no form of life around.

Unholy indeed.

Allen ran.

She had been running for a while now. Away from the warehouse that had kept her captive for so many days. Her blue-almost-silver eyes were almost bloodshot and dark circles had emerged under them. Her skin was almost pale and full of bruises, her hair was dishevelled and the clothes which she was wearing were torn and tattered and reduced to almost seams. The only thing good she had were her shoes which were the sporty sneakers she had stolen.

Allen still ran.

She ran along the endless, unclear path, unaware of her destination, unaware of her path, unaware of everything that was going on and what would happen. She just ran for her life, well aware of what would happen if she didn't. Even the wind had now died. The only sound that could be heard was now the grinding of canvas against gravel.

She ran.

Goodness only knows how long had she been running. She had no idea of the time and the only thing on her mind was getting help. As if the heavens themselves had read a mind, she got out of the forest and found herself on the main road where a car had been parked there.

Oh, the great lengths shadows go to lure their targets and what amazing illusions do they weave. Conspirators and magicians should learn from them. Lovely, don't you think?

Thanks goodness. Allen thought as she stopped running and staggered toward the car.

All the adrenaline that had been circulating inside Allen had now evaporated as her knees became weak and she slumped against the car while knocking.

The car window rolled down. The weakness, coupled with the tiredness had multiplied the horror inside Allen by a hundredfold. She tried to move back, but a strong arm had caught her now.

'You have been really naughty, sweetheart.'

'Let me go.' She begged in a barely audible whisper.

'I wish I could, sweetheart, but bad girls deserve punishment. And you have been really, really bad.'

'No'

That was the last time she ever spoke in her life.