February 4-- Location-- Unknown:

Ashton struggled against his restraints as he regained consciousness. Cold metal cuffs held his arms and legs to the metal table, a metal bar on his head, preventing him from being able to move.

"Ah, you're finally awake." A deep voice spoke from the opposite side of the room, and seemed to circle him as he continued to speak, "I can't wait to begin." The man appeared above him, easily recognizable to Ashton, causing his eyes to widen as he attempted to say something.

"Y-agbassjssk" Ashton's words were unrecognizable, causing a tear to escape his eyes as he choked on the saliva draining down his throat. "Please." He tried to beg for mercy but it was no use, the abductor had severed the poor blonde's tongue, it was now just a bloody lump in the boy's mouth, forever useless, forever mute.

"It's no use." The man smirked, gently patting Ashton's clothed stomach. His brown eyes gleamed with enjoyment for the situation, which made Ashton more afraid as he anticipated what would soon come to be. Ashton had always wondered if the man's skin was more caramel or chocolate colored, he could never quite tell, but in this light it was the darkest he had ever seen it. However, that was the least of his worries now. "Well, we might as well begin."

Ashton pressed himself against the cold metal of the table as his bloody clothing was cut off. He shook his head violently as the man began to cut off his pants, his hands trembling in fear. He squeezed his blue spinel eyes shut as he felt the cool metal of the scissors around the waistband of his boxers, but let out a sigh of relief as it was suddenly pulled away.

"Don't worry, these won't be removed until later." Ashton felt vibrations through the table as the man set various instruments down on it, though he couldn't quite see what they were. He shuddered when he heard the familiar sound of a bone saw, and instinctively tried to inch off the table, "Uh-uh-uh, where do you think you're going?"

The man smiled sickly as he pulled a rolling cart over to their position that was littered with visible instruments. After a deliberate evaluation, he picked up a long, sharp blade and spun around to face Ashton.

"This shouldn't hurt." The man muttered, focusing completely on the boy's delicate fingers. The young boy had beautiful hand structure, obviously gaining that attribute from his mother. "Please hold still." There was a cheerful tone to his voice, more than likely because this was his favorite way to pass the time after his agonizing day job.

Ashton cringed as he once again tried to sink into the table, the older man's tone disturbing him. As he felt a cold blade run over his fingers he screamed but it didn't seem to phase the man. Rather, he calmly glanced up, his formerly soothing brown eyes replaced by black pits of nothing. This couldn't be the man he had once known, he would have never done this.

Locating his knuckles, the man used a marker to make lines where he would cut, wanting to make this as clean as possible. He retrieved the pliers from their location on the moving cart, and moved Ashton's thumb away from the rest of his fingers, creating a space between the bones in his hands.

The sharp blade suddenly sliced through his bone, the lump falling into a waiting bucket. Blood seeped out of the gaping wound, the thick substance quickly covering the protruding, pink toned bone. The warm, red fluid dripped slowly into the bucket as the blood trickled down and off of his finger.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Each drop of blood could be heard falling into the bucket, the quiet splashes of blood on blood breaking the silence that had settled upon the room. Ashton began to scream as the pain finally hit him, causing his chest to tighten, sharp bursts of air shoving their way out of his lungs. His pale eyelids slowly began to droop over his electric blue eyes, small beads of sweat collecting on his forehead as he struggled to get out of his restraints.

"Didn't that feel wonderful?" The man smirked, using a bloody hand to scratch his white beard causing a red smear to be left behind. His brown eyes twinkled as he smiled down at the boy below him, admiring the way that his pale skin was accented by the hollows of his cheeks. The dark shadows under Ashton's eyes made him look dead, almost as if he was on the brink of death. The man slowly brushed his bloody fingers across the boy's sharp cheekbones leaving light streaks of blood behind.

Ashton writhed underneath the intimidating gaze of his captor, his chocolate eyes seeming to pierce into the young boy's soul. He gasped as he felt smooth fingertips running along his bare thighs, trailing inwards towards his midsection. A chill traveled through his body as the fingers wrapped around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down.

"This will feel even better." Before Ashton had even process what the man had said, he felt a searing pain come from his already mutilated left hand. A scream erupted from him, the white-hot pain shooting up his arm through his nerves. The warm liquid trickled down his arm like a drop of water, leaving a darkening red path behind it.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The fingers were no longer gripping his boxers, but instead his wrist, keeping his hand still as he tugged at his arm, attempting to get away. Ashton watched as the man shook his head before picking up the knife that had been knocked out of his grasp in the short-lived struggle between the two.

"Oh, my! Just wait for this!" Another flash of pain radiated through Ashton's body as his middle finger was removed from his hand, causing his warm bodily fluids to trickle down the top of his palm and slowly drip into the bowl below.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Screams were echoing around him, as well as distressed groans, and even pleads for mercy. Ashton couldn't tell if these sounds were coming from him, even though they sounded distant, as if there were others present.

He groaned as another finger was removed, the pain somehow even worse than before. It radiated through his body, the warmth of his blood being the only thing in his reach capable of lessening the pain. With a restricted glance down at the floor, he could see the bucket was slowly filling with blood, the green material turning an ugly brown as the thin layer of splattered blood stained the inside.

This man must have done the same thing to the other missing students. No bodies have been found, and if the man was who Ashton thought he was, that meant that they weren't dead. If he was correct, the young athletic star had a chance at surviving.

"Sarah!" A familiar blonde ran into the room, her eyes wide in fright as the man barked at her, "Tighten his restraints, will you?" Sarah hesitantly nodded, tears running down her cheeks as she walked over to the metal cuffs that Ashton's hands were trapped in. The metal clanged together, the sound jarring him out of his shock at seeing her. He grabbed her wrist, attempting to pull her closer. He hoped that it was really Sarah. The first to be kidnapped, nearly a month ago, and his best friend. Though, more importantly, if she were still alive, and he survived the torture, just maybe he would live. Sarah shook her head, a strangled sob escaping her throat as she continued to tie him down. She slowly backed away from him, just to bump into the hard chest of the older man.

"Now, now, darling. No need to cry." The man walked up to the girl, who stayed completely still, not daring to move a muscle, "You'll be with Mommy soon." Another sob left Sarah's lips before it was harshly cut off. A strange gurgling replaced it.

Ashton watched Sarah choke on her own blood, the knife in her throat coated in a dark, thick substance that dripped onto the ratty clothes she was wearing. He watched in horror as she fell to her knees, clawing at the knife that was protruding from her throat at an odd angle, almost as if it had entered through the top of her skull. Her pale blue eyes were wide in fear, her blonde hair disheveled and out of place as she struggled to disconnect with the knife, her arms flailing as she clawed at the table, not wanting to die like this.

Ashton thrashed in his restraints, heart wrenching sobs wracking his body as he tried to get to her. He tugged on the metal cuffs with all his strength, the adrenaline pumping through his body as Sarah went limp on the floor.

Finally, a cuff came loose, just enough so that he could reach her hand. Ashton latched onto her hand, dragging her lifeless body towards him. He gazed down at her formally bleach blonde hair, the red tint of her blood staining his hands as he ran his fingers through it. Her dead blue eyes gazed up at him, their old twinkle gone. Dried tear tracks ran down her cheeks, her eyes still welling with tears. Another sob hit Ashton as he pulled Sarah's body close to his chest, bending over her in a hug.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, but she just had to go." The man said, smiling down at the boy as he stood over him, retrieving the same sharp blade he had used before, "Afterall, she was so last year."

The man laughed as he pulled Sarah's limp body away and tossing her across the room. He then swiftly removed another one of Ashton's fingers, throwing his head back in a laugh as the blood splattered everywhere. The thick substance dripped down into the bucket, forming a stream with the other still bleeding fingers.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Oh dear, it seems I hit a vein." He shook his head, chuckling to himself as he finished cutting through the digit, ignoring Ashton's pleads for mercy. Tears were welling in the star's eyes, creating small pools of metallic water on the bloody table.

Ashton began to groan as his finger started to burn in reaction to the outside air, the pale surface of his bone protruding from the invasive wound. Blood continuously poured from the wound, the warm liquid falling into the tinted bucket below.

The man skipped over to Ashton's other side, pulling a cart along with him. There was a similar bucket waiting on the other side as well, as well as plenty of tools.

"This won't take long." The man smiled sweetly down at Ashton, his pearly white teeth nearly matching his white beard. He trailed his fingers up Ashton's thigh, squeezing it every once and awhile. Ashton was too afraid to move, figuring he would upset the man even more. The fingers wrapped around his boxer's once more, swiftly pulling them down. "Stay still for me boy."

The man smirked, flipping the poor boy over on the table and tightening his cuffs. He carefully climbed onto the table, pulling Ashton's legs apart as he straddled him. Ashton was sobbing beneath him, tears forming puddles on the metal table underneath him.

"Let me hear you, boy." The man huskily whispered in Ashton's ear, slamming into his tight hole. The man moaned in delight, a broad smile on his face as he looked up at the heavens. Ashton screamed at the immense pain he felt as he began to bleed. His tears mixing with blood as he gave up, not finding a reason to keep fighting. He felt the man release inside of him after few minutes, but he just lay there numbly, not knowing what to do.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He eventually pulled out, the warm substance leaking out as Ashton lay there. The man then began to move his hands all over his body, feeling his abs and drifting his hands down to his own testicular area.

"You're going to feel so much better, babe." The man's words would echo in Ashton's mind for forever, dead or alive.  This was a moment he could never forget, no matter how hard he might try. 

The man began pumping his hand over Ashton's large penis, the friction causing a strangled moan to escape the boy's mouth.   More tears trailed down his cheeks, a few sobs escaping. 

'Please, make it stop.  I'll do anything, but make it stop.'  Ashton was pleading to whatever forces were above, whatever was causing this to happen. 

Sobs wracked Ashton's body as he kept his eyes closed, sighing in relief when the man finally pulled his hand away as the frightened boy released. His body was shaking with every breath he took, his body attempting to leave its restraints and curl into itself.

He continued to sob as the man went back to his hands, using the same sharp blade to remove another finger.

The room was silent, other than the quiet drip of Ashton's blood falling into the bucket after the loud splash of his severed digit falling off of his mutilated hand and into the waiting bucket of blood below.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ashton's sobs were silent now, tears quietly running down his cheeks as he numbly stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't feel anything anymore, and everytime another digit was removed, he felt nothing. He could hear the quiet noise of his blood exiting his wounds and landing in the growing puddle of blood located inside the green bucket.

Drip. Drip. Drip.