Prologue




August 28, 2004

The rain playfully scattered upon the carpeted floor through the open balcony door. It had stormed throughout the autumn night and had recently begun tapering off into a lulling drizzle. The gray weather mirrored the atmosphere within the room that it now violated. The wind gently blew the supple beige curtains into the room and continued until it brushed the pale skin of a sleeping form. The body stirred as it recognized the wind’s unrelenting touch and it tried turning away from it, but it was stopped. Stopped by the unnatural leather straps that were snaked around its wrists and bound it to the bed railing above its head. The body let out a moan when the strap’s grasp intensified its hold, biting into his already raw skin and halting its efforts. It could feel the soft caressing trickle of blood as it left a trail along its wrists and forearm pooling into the crook of its elbow. It sighed and groaned when the cold damp mattress connected with the harsh bruises that covered the body’s back, shoulders, hips and thighs. It shuddered. Now that the body was awake it could feel every ache and pain that haunted it. The body’s thoughts drifted away from the pain. It now struggled with the knowledge and memories of how it got into the situation it now found itself in. Curiosity began overriding the initial fear the body had upon waking. It tried opening its eyes having the need of knowing its surroundings, but its efforts revealed nothing. It had forgotten about the silk blue blindfold that had been applied to its eyes before the events of that night took place.

Last night. If only the body could forget about what had happened. The sounds of the horrible night were etched in its memory. Sound, that the body will never forget, ones that it made. Sounds that had been a reaction brought upon it by the brutality the men and women forced onto it. The body felt ashamed. It had been raped several times by both sexes. It had lost count and could not tell the difference between male and female aggression. They were both harsh and merciless. The tortured body needed to stop thinking about last night, but every time it moved it was reminded.

Suddenly, a moan coming from one of the corners in the room reached the battered body’s ear. The moan had a pitch that the body recognized as a familiar one. Then through the cloud of pain the body recalled that its best friend was here. It remembered hearing his voice and his thunderous entrance into the fray. What had they done to my best friend? Did he suffer like I did, the body wondered. It could not see him and began worrying, but remained still. Each and every movement the body made caused an unbearable amount of pain, which would nearly rendered the body unconscious. It needed to know if its friend was all right. The body would need to set his pain aside and concentrate on the noise that resonated from its right side. It struggled a little and tried loosening its restraints, but no avail. The only award for its efforts had been searing pain that pulsated throughout its body. The body decided the only way it could find out the condition of his friend would be calling out his name. Unsure of its voice, it slowly began forming the sounds that would hopefully be the name of its companion.

“Ju...st...in.” The word took forever escaping the body’s swollen lips and then lingered in the air. The body’s voice was very weak and strained not only from the screaming it had done earlier but because of the narrow bruises that encircled its neck. The person in the corner began moving and the body thought Justin had spoken.

***

The room was dark except for the narrow stream of illumination from the streetlights below that shone through the balcony door. The breeze from the balcony gave the room a chilly atmosphere and Justin involuntarily shivered. As Justin gradually began regaining consciousness he slowly became aware of the pain in his shoulder and the back of the head. He instinctively reached back feeling his head and found a sticky wetness that matted his hair. He knew that he hit the wall extremely hard when the man shoved him into it. He remembered that the man who attacked him looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know where he had seen the person before. That was his last memory of what happened last night. He could not quite remember why he was there or how he got there. Just as he finished his thought, he heard a voice, which originated from a source behind him. It sounded like his name and the he realized that he was not alone in this situation. Someone else was there, and he remembered all that he forgot. He was there helping his friend and he failed. He cocked his head slowly in the direction of the voice and if by instinct he responded.

“Joshua.” He painstakingly turned from the corner and lifted his hazy vision in the direction of his friend’s voice. Somehow he had to get to his friend. The light from the balcony shone on Joshua who was lying on a grubby mattress. His hands looked as if they were tied above his head, like they were when he first arrived on the scene. Justin continued his surveillance of his surroundings and peered over at the door and noticed light streaming from underneath it. Noises emanated from the other side. Voices, Justin was sure the noises were voices. Shit. They’re still here, he thought. He glanced over at the bed and the still form that lied there and then back again towards the door. If Joshua is still tied to the bed they must not be finished with him, he surmised. Oh, God. I don’t think he can handle anymore. I must reach him, he thought. The blonde tried standing using the wall as a support. However, the continuing ache in his head and the slight movement made his vision blurry and the room spin out of control. He collapsed with a groan. As the last fragment of nausea left Justin, he concluded that standing up and walking where the bed lie was out of the question. Determination getting the better part of him, Justin crawled toward his battered friend. It was agonizingly slow and he still felt sick and nausea with every movement. That was no excuse; he had to get there. Josh had not answered him and that worried Justin. He would need to know if Josh was all right and capable of moving so they could get out of there when the chance presented itself. As he reached the bed he whispered his name again.

“Joshua, God please answer me.”



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