A/N: Okay, here's the deal. Six years ago, I had an idea for a story, which never amounted to anything. I had a vision for the story. I think. Nothing came of it, and I left several readers in the dark.

So, let's get real here. I've struggled with a complex concoction of mental illnesses from a seriously young age. Things have snowballed before, but eighteen months ago I lost a job that I loved, looking after children that I loved. I bounced from job to job, eventually having to move home, which has been nothing but a wholly traumatising location. A major diagnosis and the sudden death of my beloved Labrador, Kipper, within the space of twelve hours, became a catalyst for a downhill landslide. I spent a quarter of this year in a private psychiatric hospital (two actually), and have finally, for the first time in my entire life (or the life that I remember), I feel in control. I sleep, I eat, I breathe, and the pain isn't so acute anymore.

Anyway, I haven't had ANY inspiration to write in nearly a year, so when I found a long-buried story idea in an old notebook, I rolled with it. And, here we go. A story that has taken on a life of its own. This story has a solid trajectory, which I think may lead somewhere.

Now, here's the things you need to know.

This story is definitely NOT for those under 18. It will be violent, at times graphic, and involve a lot of different levels of suffering, including physical, psychological and emotional.

It will NOT be a continuation of the story I published as Immeasurable Strength, although it does have the same name and is published in the same document(?) that the original story was, in the vain hope that it makes up for the five year gap in updates.

Every single chapter will have comprehensive trigger warnings. EVERY. SINGLE. CHAPTER. Some of the warning labels may seem obvious or unnecessary, but I will put them in regardless, because there is no such thing as a 'silly' trigger. I know how difficult it is to deal with triggers. I've found that the most disruptive triggers are found in areas such as FanFiction, where I come for safety and escape. There is NO excuse for someone to leave out trigger warnings, when it is very well-known that many people come to these sites to seek support. So, I will always include trigger warnings – that is an absolute, iron-clad promise.

I will update as often as I can, but I do ask for patience. I work with four young children, have a multitude of doctor and therapy appointments each week, and, to be honest, I still have rough patches. Everyone does.

So, have patience, and I will do my best to deliver. Happy reading.

(P.S. I'm Australian, so if there are any spelling "errors", please take that into account. I'm also happy to explain or edit any words that you may not understand. I tried to keep everything user-friendly, but we all overlook things at some point.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: physical violence, unprovoked attack, surprise attack, forced restraint, forced blindfolding, forced confinement

Friday. Dawn.

A tickle forms deep inside Emily's throat as she battles against the frigid wind to get to her car. Heels clicking, she questions her decision to carry her thick overcoat instead of wearing it. In theory, it made sense - she is only walking a short distance from the front steps of the apartment building to her car, which is parked just up the road under a street light. However, choosing to ignore her current condition is proving to be a mistake as she notes a subtle tightening in her chest due to the cold. With her breath beginning to crackle in her throat, she steps off the curb and rounds the bonnet of her SUV, dumping her handbag and laptop bag on top of it. She puts the keys in the ignition after unlocking the doors, turning the engine over to start the flow of warm air throughout the interior, before tossing her coat onto the passenger seat and setting her travel cup in the holder between the seats. Lifting her remaining belongings off the car, her gaze flits momentarily to the car's windscreen, when movement catches her eye.

Emily is moving before she has even processed what she's seen. Her purse and laptop are abandoned, left to find their own way to the pavement as her hands focus on unclipping her holster and drawing the weapon it holds. The contents of the bags spew out in all directions; however, it is the strong hand that seizes her wrist that holds her attention. The body behind her flies forward with such force that when Emily is crushed between it and the bonnet of the SUV, any air that her body holds is ripped out and stolen by the wind. A ragged cough accompanies it, followed by a pain in her chest that is so intense it's nearly blinding. Her left arm is tightly pinned against the car, her head also trapped by the strong hand, but this doesn't deter her from fighting.

Lifting her right leg up as far as she can, Emily delivers a swift, forceful blow to the man's knee, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps. With his hands off her body, she rips her gun out of its holster and spins around to confront her attacker head on. By this point, her breathing is rapid and shallow, and her vision is starting to swim. Spinning around so fast has only increased her dizziness, but nevertheless, she knows that she cannot stop to rest. Just as everything is beginning to become clear to her, she feels a body slam into her, lifting her feet off the ground and sending her careening backward toward the tar road.

At this point, everything stops. Nothing happens for a split second. She does not breathe, she cannot see, and she does not move. For that second, there is no light, no sound, and no sensation. And then, with the force of a freight train, everything returns.

Pain explodes throughout her body, quickly settling in her head. A desperate gasp brought only a small amount of air into her lung, with a spasmodic series of coughs expelling it almost instantly. She can taste blood, can feel it trickling down her throat, but she has no energy to concentrate on finding its source. There is a shrill ringing filling her ears. Emily is not focused on this, however. Instead, her attention is resting solely on the blinding agony caused by her fall. She can barely see and even then, what she can see are no more than small pockets of light amongst the darkness. Aside from this, there is nothing.

The man stands up, looming over the prone figure on the ground in front of him. His breathless form towers above her writhing body, chest heaving, as he watches her roll to her side, reaching out to grasp out at the ground in front of her. Taking one final, satisfied look in Emily's direction, he moves away, collecting the woman's discarded belongings. A few small items have fallen from her purse, including a couple tampons, a tube of lip balms, and her phone. The man seems to consider the device but hesitates only for a moment before smashing it with his foot and kicking it under the car. The last thing he collects is Emily's weapon, which had flown from her hands when she made contact with the bitumen. Before he turns away he reaches into the SUV that is humming away next to him and yanks the keys out of the ignition, throwing them carelessly into the back seat before slamming the door shut.

With the items secured in his own vehicle still idling just behind hers, the man returns to Emily's side with a black cloth bag, which he roughly pulls over her head. Having regained slight cognizance, she lifts her hands to the hood and weakly attempts to remove it, only to have her wrists once again captured. After securing her left wrist in one side of a pair of disposable restraints, the man manoeuvres Emily onto her stomach and forces her remaining hand into the adjoining cuff, before standing and wrapping his fist around the back of the collars of her shirt and blazer.

Emily's suit pants scrape against the road, beginning to fray as she is dragged quickly and efficiently towards the rear of her attacker's vehicle. She is in the boot of the car before she knows what is happening and rapidly becomes aware of the lurching movements she is experiencing as the car starts to drive away from her apartment. She can feel a warm liquid lazily dripping across her forehead, pooling in the hair beside her right ear.

She tries to stay conscious for as long as possible, but the vehicle has barely turned the first corner when she finally succumbs to the pain.