Scars for a Luna

Prologue

I used to think that I knew what fear was. It used to be failing a test or losing a game and it being all my fault. It used to be not being good enough. Now laying here while a mad man was cutting my back I realized how sheltered and naive I had been.

Here I am close to being dead from blood loss, not able to move due to drugs, and I realized what fear was. Fear is the unknown. Fear is dying without being able to fight. Fear is not being able to beat the darkness.

"I have to admit, beautiful. The rest of them were either dead by now or unconscious. I knew you were special Lynn," he whispered in my ear. I don't know how long I've been here now but it feels like an eternity.

All I know is the pain. He broke my left leg when he first kidnapped me, that might have been a few hours ago. The cuts that he had just administered to my back felt sticky from blood and hurt like hell. None of those things were as bad as the three brands he had put on my chest before the cuts though. They were huge and each one held a different letter that the man claimed were his initials. His way to show the world that I was his. His what though? His prize? His newest kill? I don't know.

The man ran his freezing hand up and down my bare back tracing my new cuts and sending jolts of previously unknown pain.

"Let's take a break baby. I'm a little thirsty," he whispered in my ear then placed a creepy kiss on my neck making waves of disgust go through me.

Then I heard him walk away.

This is how I'm going to die. I'm going to be murdered and not able to even fight back.

My vision started to blur and go a bit black. If I close my eyes it'll all be over. No more of this pain.

No! If I die he wins. This is an endurance game and no one is better at games than me. I am going to win. I am going to fight.

I fought through the pain with the single thought of fighting back on my mind. Soon I could feel my arms. Then I could feel my legs and I shakily stood up despite the searing pain.

I looked around the room and saw his cell phone laying next to the concrete slab that I had been laying on as well as the branding iron that he used to brand me.

My vision was blurry but focused solely on the phone as I slowly made my way to it and dialed 911. My fingers were covered with blood from what had trailed away from my back and down my arms. It made the metal object slippery in my hands, but I held on tightly, knowing what the consequences could be if this call didn't go through.

"Police department, what is your emergency?" I heard a friendly female voice and I couldn't help the smile that came to my face.

"My name is Matelynn Jones I've been kidnapped and hurt. I don't know where I am or where the man is but he's going to come back! Please hurry," I said in a quiet sob. I sobbed even though the fact was that I had so much physical pain that I was now numbed emotionally and physically.

"Okay, I need you to stay calm and hide! I have tracked your phone and help is three minutes away," she said.

I'm going to win. He's going to lose.

"How is this possible!?" I heard him from a distance to my left.

The man is back. I finally got a decent look at him and realized that he was familiar. Jerome Linus Clade. He had gone to every single one of my games no matter what sport. He was at my volleyball games, my basketball games, even at my track meets. I had always assumed that he was my friend and just a sweet man that found me talented and entertaining like many other people in this town. His red hair looked sickly and thin, and his dark eyes looked crazed and sunken in.

"I drugged you. How are you up?" He said in anger and disbelief.

He waited for me to reply but I didn't waste my breath. I was having a hard enough time as it is. I don't want to talk unless I have to.

After a few more seconds he realized that I wasn't going to answer him. This got him even madder and he charged at me.

I automatically grabbed the branding iron that was next to me and with all the strength that I had in my bruised arms I swung it.

It made contact with his head and made a loud clang sound before he dropped. Knocked out cold.

"Police!" I heard an authoritative voice yell out distantly.

I fell to my knees, my broken leg no longer able to sustain my weight and I dropped the branding iron that was now covered in my blood. I heard footsteps and distant mumbled voices. With all the energy and strength left in my torn-up body, I yelled, "I'm here!"

About ten seconds later two police officers picked me up and helped me outside.

I had been held in an abandoned building by the local Walmart, only a few blocks away from my house as well as my school. He had taken me when I was walking to my house from the gym after my basketball practice this afternoon. It was now night.

The police officers handed me over to the EMTs and my vision was getting darker and darker.

One thought passed my mind before I lost consciousness. I won.