Chapter 2:

Hot pain woke me, as blood churning screams flew from my lungs, the pain was too intense.

Not screaming was something I was good at; holding in the pain and freezing my face so as not to let them know how painful it truly was.

I hated with the very core of my being to show my weakness to the enemy, the enemy in this case being the officers holding me back and burning my skin, some type of weapon helped them, it was a mix of fire and electricity, though if I were asked how they were different my only answer would be that they're not the same color.

It was like a needle; a thick and rather large needle, one that burned like hell.

It's not like I'm not used to this, I've been a friend of pain ever since I can remember, all sorts.

They have however, been used in various ways, truly they get more creative every time, it makes me laugh I always knew the 'authority' was a load of bull.

The fact that they could get me to scream so easily did not sit well with me; to tell the truth it made me angrier.

Since they let me go I knew there was catch, there's always a catch, I just didn't think they'd do something like this.

Maybe they were the ones who made the people back at the institution torture me more than the others, no wonder they always tried to pry information from me, asking ridicules things that caused me to go back to my past, made me think back to the times where I was weak and powerless.

Yes, I know I'm not much different now; I haven't made much progress, that's pretty much obvious.

"Now bitch, I said if you'd like to have some fun with us before we let you go to the president?"

I glared at the intruder of my thoughts, a rough big man of maybe 30 years. His friend was a lot older and a lot fatter, just looking at him made me want to throw up.

Looking back at their disgusting sweaty faces I spit at their feet. "And I said I would rather fuck a hairy monkey, so get the fuck away assholes."

"You stupid bitch we're doing you a favor." He grabbed me by my hair and pushed my face against the ground roughly, I think I felt my cheekbone break, is that even possible? Then his partner kicked me repeatedly in my stomach, I sighed loudly not even grimacing, "Man you guys don't know how to treat a lady, no wonder women tend to stay away from the likes of you."

My voice sounded hoarse and with all the blood clogging my throat it was hard to get my words out.

"Shut the hell up you whore!"

"Your voice is no sweet either, wouldn't surprise me if you guys were still virgins." I told them chunks of thick chuckles forcing their way out my lips.

"Bitch!" yelled out the fatty old man, grabbing my face and taking out his knife.

Though I didn't react I felt my heart skip a beat, they couldn't kill me right? It had already been 2 hours since I was called to the president's office; someone had to come check why I was taking so long, right?

"You cold bitch, why don't you show fear?!" the fatso yelled out frustrated.

"Your vocabulary sure is limited, is bitch the only word you know? Actually if I'm frank do you even know what it really means?"

"Grrahhhh!" they both yelled out, one grabbed my face and hooked his arm around my throat and grinded himself against my back , the old man cut open my shirt as to expose my breasts and he leaned in and bit my nipples, I curled me lips and hissed out, but not of pain, but from disgust.

Then out of nowhere they were both shot, one through his back and the other on the head.

Looking over my shoulder I saw an older man with a pistol leaning against the door, when he noticed I was looking at him he smirked, he was bald and had small grey eyes though the one on the right looked almost white with a thick scar running down his bottom lid.

"Ah my knight in shining armor, thank for the help man." I stood up and covered my breasts when I caught him looking, "you're not gonna try anything either are ya buddy?"

He sighed "No, lucky for you the president wants you now, besides I don't touch whores like you."

I rolled my eyes and smiled, these men really had a limited vocabulary, and I could bet I knew more cuss words than they'd ever heard in their lives.

I walked up to him and he cuffed my hands behind my back, pushed me forward and barked out "walk", I let him lead me around, sure he'd insulted me, but I didn't care if that meant he was going to leave me alone.

What was that saying again? Oh yes; 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.'

In my opinion that wasn't true, words could wound someone a lot more than any stick or stone. That's the thing that some people don't get, not all scars are visible, and not all abuse was physical.

But hey, I'd take an insult any day, it's not that I'm a coward who's afraid of pain or anything, but I'm not invincible, I ain't immortal or anything of the like. Now that I think about it that would be pretty cool, it'd come in handy actually.

Soon we came to make a stop in front of a tall heavy metal door, a wheel put in the middle instead of a door knob.

"Dude, what's with the submarine looking door?"

The man glanced at me and smirked "The president is a sea based person, he enjoys stuff like this." Then he coughed, "Play nice, girl."

He raised his fist and knocked.