i wrote this story several years ago on FF and then took it down because i wasn't happy with it.

now, i've got an itch... so, here we go.

the story title is a song. if you know it, you're super cool in my book.

also, forewarning: as with all of my writings, any song listed usually holds great meaning to the story & while i understand some don't enjoy listening to music during,

it may sway you just right to listen beforehand. to get a feel of the mood i'm going for.

Prologue

Shit. All I can smell is shit .

Suspicious white and red stains and random trash cover the carpets of every hallway we've come through. Several doors are missing from their respective rooms. The sound of sex and the random groans make my ears feel like they're bleeding. Ninety percent of the girls here are non-consenting or drugged out of their mind, I guarantee it.

"Antonio, let's find her already and get the fuck out. I can't stand this shit anymore." My blonde partner grits out, trying to avoid looking into any of the rooms with missing doors. The sight is too much. I hate that he had to be here and see this. If I didn't need his help, I would not have fucking asked.

"Chill out Carlisle, we can't afford to make a scene. Back-up is still thirty minutes away."

I can literally hear the man trying to relax from the corner of my eye. This was affecting my friend more than I thought it would. I shouldn't have asked him. I didn't take into account the two little one's he already has. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if we could just kill all of these sick bastards. These men don't deserve to walk the Earth. They don't even deserve the fires of Hell.

They deserve a much worse fate than that.

"Here." I whisper, coming to stand in front of room A7, one of the few rooms with a door. The woman who tipped us off would be spared, at least. We try to prepare ourselves for what we might see, but we both know it will be bad, either way. This needed to be quick, in and out. I just hope the girl won't scream or put up a fight.

"Ready?" I ask quietly , jiggling the hostlers in my sleeves for a knife to slide into my palm.

Carlisle nods and proceeds to kick the door in. It doesn't take much considering how old and crappy the doors are. You'd figure with all the money these sick fucks make off this trade, they'd have the decency to upgrade every once in awhile.

All hell breaks loose as two men jump up from their positions on the bed, butt-ass naked. The few seconds of shock I have are enough to last me a lifetime of nightmares. It's worse than we could have imagined and we're already pretty fucking deranged as it is. The little girl's face and hair is matted in blood from their recent beatdown. The rest of her looks as if she hasn't bathed in weeks. Red, purple, and green marks cover her small body, bruises that never seem to heal.

I swore then and there, I would hunt down every man and woman involved with this shit and feed their chopped pieces to my pits. Hopefully, it wouldn't morph their cells too much. Killing them in front of Isabella will be the first step to her recovery. She'll appreciate the avenger in us later down the road. I know she will.

These dumbasses are just as shocked as we are, but suddenly they seem to come alive, screaming shit in their native language. Alerting the few guards here is unacceptable and a knife soon finds its way through both of their skulls. Their knees hit the ground first before anything else.

I hold my hand up, signalling to Carlisle to stop and listen for anyone rushing down the hall. Silence reigns, but not true silence. Just the sounds we were greeted with in the beginning. Those tortured cries… Fuck, praise Mary for their souls. Those few stifling breaths filled with the stench of this disgusting place would later feel as if I couldn't scrub it from my skin. The paranoia would last for days.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary so I nod. Carlisle hurries to the chain that's bolted to the wall above the headboard. They had this girl on a goddamn collar and leash, like a fucking dog.

I spit on the poor excuses for men that lay dead on the floor as I yank the knives from their lifeless heads. That death was too quick, too painless. Especially for some sick fucks like that. It's unbelievable how God allows such evil to live. I mean, I'm an evil motherfucker, but that...

"Антонио! помоги мне, черт возьми!" I'm not Russian, but it doesn't take a genius to understand my partner is trying to get my attention. Carlisle reverting to his native tongue alerts me to his level of distress and a strange knot forms in my throat. His hands are shaking so hard he can't pick the lock. Mine probably are too.

As I jog forward, I can't help but notice how calm the little girl is. Her eyes are almost dead-like as she stares at the men on the floor. Her tiny body is frozen to the bed, hands gripping the chain that bound her to the wall for God knows how long. I kneel hesitantly , getting as close as I think I can get without her being uncomfortable. Upon closer inspection, I notice the one thing that still exists is the anger and hatred in her eyes as she takes in this new reality. It pains me to see that murderous look in a child so young, but these feelings will help. They will become a necessity in my plans for this girl.

"Isabella," I say softly , trying to get her attention. It seems as if she barely registered us trying to release her, gaze so intent on those men. Cold brown eyes finally look up at me, staring straight through my soul. It sends a chill down my spine, but this excites me because I've found something better than my own petty revenge.

I've found a monster.

"Антонио! помоги мне, черт возьми!" = "Antonio! Help me, god dammit!"