A/N: Well here you have it. The third chapter. Two years later. I don't know what happened but my muse suddenly returned.

You all know I hate cases, and prefer the personal plights involved, so I'll probably focus more on that, but I'll try my best.

She didn't know how long she had been there, chained up to the wall like Jesus to the cross. Her shoulders were screaming in protest as her body weight pulled against the restraints, but she had no energy left to hold herself up. The shackles were too high up for her to even kneel on the hard floor beneath her, and so all she could do was hang in exhausted defeat.

'This is not you,' she thought to herself behind closed eyes. 'You're stronger than this. Don't give up now'

It felt like an eternity had passed since she had woken to find herself chained up in the cellar of what she could only guess was a very old, very large house. She wouldn't know; she had only ever seen the room in which she was currently trapped.

No light reached the room from the world outside, and therefore, she had no idea how many days had passed. All she knew was the blood running from her raw, reddened wrists, the uncomfortable damp of her sweatpants from when she'd been unable to hold her bladder any longer, and the terrifying yet sweet beckon of sleep that she so desperately wanted to give in to.

Somewhere above her, a bolt slid across a latch.

Ice cold dread filled her stomach, the fear racing through her like a greyhound and chasing away the sleep that had been settling in. Heavy footfalls echoed down the steep set of stairs that led down into the cellar.

As the boots appeared in the darkened stairwell across from her, she closed her eyes, silently begging for something, anything that would give her a reprieve from what was bound to come next. Even death, she would gladly welcome.

The footsteps were drawing closer, and she didn't dare move a muscle.

"My prize… finally had enough have we?" came the sickening drawl of the man who had stolen her freedom.

She felt him lean closer, her stomach turning as his hot breath hit her ear, his lips just millimetres away.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever found… I think I'm going to keep you," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice.

Her eyes flew open as he took a step back. Without hesitating, she threw herself forward, letting out an angry scream as she pulled against the chains holding her to the wall. She pulled so violently that the rusted shackles sliced into her skin yet again, her shoulders threatening to dislocate as she thrashed around angrily, trying to pull herself free and throw herself at her captor.

It only made her anger boil inside her when he did nothing but stand there and laugh.

"Don't work yourself up princess. You need to save your strength," he chuckled, reaching out and cupping her cheek.

"Fuck you," she growled, wrenching her head back out of his grasp.

"Oh, don't worry princess… you will," he said darkly, brushing her hair back from her face with a stubby finger.

And just like that, he turned, heading for the stairs and disappearing back up into the dwelling above. She listened in defeat as she heard the stair gate close and the bolt slide back into place.

Hot tears welled in her eyes as she hung limp from the rusty chains.

This was it. She was going to die in this decrepit old cellar, and no-one was ever going to know what had happened to her.

Hanging her head, she allowed the tears to fall, biting her lip to muffle the sobs lest her kidnapper hear her. She would just have to wait.

Either he would kill her, or she would die hanging from the wall, her body mutilated and broken from the ordeal.

What a way to go.