A desperate cry for help pierced through the air like a knife. No one heard it. No one except for a few old, scraggly crows sitting on the thick wire of electric poles. Another scream cut through the cold air, making them jerk their small heads to the source, their beady eyes staring intently at the empty streets before they took turns responding to it with loud, scratchy croaks.

High Pond was the name of this place. But to most people these days, it was The Cursed Neighbourhood. Many people from Ashmoure who passed through this area to get to South Shore—it was the shorter route after all—reported seeing intruders wandering around the neighbourhood. Those who lived or knew the residents back in the days told a different story—those intruders seen were residents of High Pond who didn't make it out alive.

As time went on, more and more people heard about the lingering residents. There were speculations about the degree of truth. There was no concrete proof that ghosts exist, after all. However, travellers from Ashmoure who caught wind of this chilling story started to avoid using this shortcut despite the two-hour decrease in time travel to South Shore. It was always better to be safe than sorry. Besides, no sane person would like to have a supernatural encounter no matter how much they doubted it.

No one would. Not even the ones living at the borders of AShmoure and South Shore. In fact, those living there moved out as soon as they could, migrating towards the inner city of the two places, putting a good distance between themselves and the abandoned town. Well, except for the occasional paranormal fans and those who needed a safe haven to get high. Or like the six of them who brought a girl along three days ago who needed a place to do their work.

"Stop!" the same voice shouted, ending it with a sob.

The owner of the cries belonged to a girl who everyone dreamt of becoming. Perfect locks of honey coloured hair, eyes the colour of the ocean, clear soft skin, an hourglass figure and a cheery personality—the beauty queen of Ashmoure High. What set her apart from the people at the top of the social pyramid was her heart. She was one of the few popular kids who was genuinely kind. In a school like Ashmoure High, that was rare. It was also her uniqueness that made her the prime target within the good and the bad. The perfect friend, the perfect enemy.

"How does it feel to be ugly now?" a blonde mocked, smiling as she glided the sharp blade of a knife across the girl's face, stopping just below her left cheekbone. Then, her smile vanished and she pressed the blade against the soft skin, gradually increasing her force until the blade cut through the epidermis.

Shifting backwards, the girl pressed herself against the boxes of crates behind her in an attempt to escape the torture, but there was no space left for her to back away. Even so, she tried, just in case it worked. Her hands were tied behind her back rubbed against the rough surface of the crates, peeling bits of her skin off.

"Please," she begged between sobs, the pain from the opening of her skin summoning tears from her eyes. "Let me go. Please. I won't tell anyone about this if that's what you're worried about. I swear! Please just let me go!"

Blood trickled down from her face to her thin, trembling shoulder. The blade moved ever so slightly to the side, forcing more red out of her skin. She snivelled, her body shaking in pain and cold. Drip by drip, her blood soaked into the white, lacy bra strap over her left shoulder, dying it a deep, crimson red.

"But we're having so much fun!" The blonde pouted, finally lifting the cold metal away from the girl's face. She held the knife between herself and the girl, eye level. Slowly, she flipped the knife in the harsh light of the single bulb hanging on a wire above them. The fresh, red blood shimmered under the light, making the blade of the knife look like it was glowing. "You're really the sunshine in everyone's life, aren't you? Even your blood glows." the blonde continued to taunt, a smile reappearing on her oval face. 

"I'll stay away from your path. Let you be the leader of the cheerleading team. Anything! Just...please," the girl pleaded, her face wet with fresh tears.

The blonde stood up and walked to a wooded table, tossing the knife on it as she leant her buttocks against the sides. "Oh relax, you don't have to give me your entire wealth. I can earn that myself just as easily as you did."

"Yeah, relax," a blond guy said, grinning. He kneeled down beside the girl and traced the right side of her untouched face with the back of his fingers. "You know what? You looked really good without a shirt on."

Following the trail of her tears, he moved his fingers down her neck, shoulder and then her arm. He brushed his fingers on a purple bruise on her right arm before wrapping his large hand around it, gripping it firmly as his thumb pressed down on it, making her wince. 

He smiled and pushed the now dull looking hair of hers away from her face. "Shhh..."

Leaning towards her, he touched the skin of her neck with his slightly cracked lips. Then, he moved to the bruised collarbones and gave each bruise a rough peck before making his way all over her, making sure to go over each visible bruise with his hands and lips as he listened to her whimpering. He wiped away the tears from her eyes and licked his lips, a rush of satisfaction filling his entire being as he stared at her contorted face.

Every hair on the girl stood up as she felt his wet lips leaving trails of saliva on her skin. She tried to kick him away, but she couldn't. Thick, white nylon ropes were wound around her wrists, ankles and lower thighs, securing them tightly together. She bent her knees in an attempt to kick him away, but she was too slow.

He noticed her intentions. With two quick moves, he pressed her legs down and planted a knee on them, shifting his weight on it to keep them from moving. "You're such a rebel," he mocked with a grin.

"No!" she shrieked. "Get off me!"

The girl tried to manoeuvre her legs under his weight as he kissed her skin, but it was useless. The cold from the cement floor seeped into her lower body, working together with the blond guy's weight to make her legs numb. She implored him to stop, but that only made him stronger. Her face was wet with tears as he scratched his nails on the small of her bare back. Turning her attention away from his touch, she entreated the girls to stop him. But all they did was ignore her, nonchalantly staring at whatever was on their smartphones.

After what seemed like hours but only a few minutes later, a girl with copper coloured hair looked up from her phone in annoyance. "It's getting late. I think we should go now if we still want to have dinner before the movie."

Another guy with slightly tanned skin stood up. He rubbed a hand on his soft tummy while nudging his girlfriend—a brunette with wavy hair—with the other. "Yeah, I'm starving. Let's go."

The blond guy stopped his actions and sighed, his eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. "But I just got started," he complained while getting off his prey.

As soon as the weight on the girl's leg was removed, she ignored the numbness in her leg muscles and forced them to bent closer to herself as she recoiled closer to the crates behind her.

The brunette rolled her eyes at the blond guy. "Come on, she's not that attractive now anyway," she said as she made her way across the room.

With her lips curled up in disdain, the brunette bent down beside the girl and grabbed her chin with one hand, jerking it upwards. "But don't worry, we'll be back tomorrow. I promise," she said without emotion while her icy glare held the girl's watery eyes.

A moment later, the brunette roughly pushed the girl's face away and raised her right foot in the air. "Now, be nice," she said as the hard heel of her boot forced the girl to the ground.

A sting burst from the girl's blood soiled shoulder and shot all over her body. As her body touched the floor, another wave of pain spread from her other arm, forcing a yelped from her mouth. Her thin frame started to tremble as the cold cement sent sharp icy chills through her skin.

"Please," the girl breathed through clattering teeth, her lips pale. "Don't leave me here. I'm so cold."

The blond guy picked up a bunch of firewood that belonged to the previous owner of the house and threw them all into the campfire in the middle of the room. After fanning it for a bit, the fire grew bigger and angrier, ensuring at least a night of warmth in the room, just enough heat until they come back tomorrow. He looked at the fire with a satisfying smile before turning to the girl. "There, all warm and cosy."

A muscular black guy picked up a dirty handkerchief and a roll of duct tape from the wooden table. Without saying a word, he forced the girl's mouth open with one strong hand and stuffed it into her mouth before sealing it shut with duct tape. 

Tears flowed out from the girl's puffy eyes to the sides of her face, a few drops fell in her ears, warming them up a little before freezing them up once more. All of a sudden, she felt a fierce fire starting in her pumping heart, each beat sending a fury fireball through her veins.

How could they do this to her? Who gave them the rights to lay fingers on her? Why were they even doing this to her, to anyone, if that matters? Why her? Why? She thought they were at least friendly acquaintances even though they never hung out much. How could they hurt her?

They looked at her with cruel smirks on their faces as muffled screams came out from her. The girl was breathing heavily, her chest rising up and down in quick obvious motions as she gave them each a good short glare. But when her gaze met the brunette's, she kept her stare on her the longest because she—this heartless, selfish bitch—caused her the most pain for these three days.

Yes. It had been three days. They had her for three days and who knew how long they would have keep tormenting her? A chill ran down her spine as a thought hit her like a truck on the highway. What if they never let her go?

"I said be nice. Glaring isn't nice," the brunette said through gritted teeth, pronouncing each word slowly as if talking to a child. "Wonderful person, huh? Humph! Just look at you now." She spat at the girl before turning on her heels, walking to the stairway with her friends.

The tan-skinned boy switched off the mini generator—cutting the hums from the machine off—he brought along with them and disconnected the bulb from it, immediately surrounding all of them in a gloomy atmosphere. The copper-haired girl turned on the torchlight app on her phone and shone it in front of her, taking a moment to close and lock the door before leading them up the stairs.

The anger in the girl vanished as suddenly as it first appeared. Now, she was left alone with a deep ache in her chest and the churning of acid in her stomach. Tears were pouring down her face uncontrollably. She couldn't wipe them off because her hands were bound behind her back by the rope they tied securely around her. All she could do was let them blend together with the blood on her face before rolling to the floor in red droplets.

As time passed, her tears subsided, allowing her vision to clear out. She blinked. The fire was dancing not far away from her. Behind the energetic fire was the doorway to freedom. All she had to do was get rid of the ropes and open the door somehow. She focused on the moving shadows on the wall and started to struggle against her restraints. She forced her legs to move and her wrist to twist, ignoring the agonising pain as the ropes cut through her already wounded skin. But it was no use. Her young captors did a great job on making sure the ropes were tight and strong around her.

She didn't know how much time had passed since the group left or how long she had been struggling against the damn ropes, but she did know she was tired. Her muscles were sore with all the fruitless determination of loosening up the bonds. All her energy was used up. She was exhausted. And cold.

The room was quiet except for the crackling of the campfire and her shallow breaths. Focusing on the fire, she wriggled nearer to it with what energy she had left. After much effort, she finally reached close enough to the fire to feel warm. And for the rest of the night, she looked absentmindedly at the burning light, imagining it transferring strength to herself.

It was winter when the world of Ashmoure was enveloped by the chills of frosty wind. Although it never snowed and the temperature never gets below ten degree celsius, it was still cold enough to make people shiver uncontrollably if they didn't have enough heat. In a time like this, people would feel cold even with their thick sweaters on, and yet all she had on her right now were her blood-stained bra, panties and a red skater skirt. All the clothes that were keeping her warm before this nightmare started had been ruined by the group of heartless boys and girls. 

Morning came and went, followed by a rainy afternoon. And then it was evening. This time they didn't come back like they always did. She was starving and thirsty, but most of all, she was freezing. The fire that had been keeping her acceptably warm for hours had weakened to a small ball of flame, which didn't aid in any way to keep the cold of the winter away.

If she was born in the older days, people would call her a doll, a sweet little thing. But now with the black and brown stains of food and cigarette ashes, she was reduced to nothing. Instead of a doll, she looked like a person after a war. The dried blood from various cuts and bruises all over her body stained the once flawless canvas of skin she had to a canvas of blood and pain.

A defeated squeak sounded from the girl as she watched the last flicker of fire go off. She was shivering more violently now, her body desperately trying to keep her warm. Her breath started to slow, each sounding more shallow than the last as her teeth vibrated between the handkerchief in her mouth. She watched the puff of water vapour blowing out from her nostrils each time she exhaled. They disappeared without a trace so quickly that she couldn't even take in their beauty. 

They were not coming back for her. Not even to continue on the abuse. Maybe this was better. Ending the pain now would save her from more suffering and humiliation. Gradually, her body stopped shaking. She couldn't feel her feet or hands anymore. Her eyelids started to grow heavy until she couldn't keep them open any longer. And each breath took longer to come, harder to take.

Just as she was fading in and out of consciousness, she heard footsteps and voices. A moment later, the door creaked open.

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Little Note:

So, this is the edited version of the prologue, I changed some stuff and added a few scenes as well, so erm...hope you'll enjoy this chapter no matter you're a new reader of an old reader of this story.

I know I didn't mention any names or whatsoever in this chapter, but that was intended, so tell me, could you see the different characters or were you confused? If you were confused, any suggestions on how to make it more clearly without revealing their identity? 

Anyway, hope this prologue spark some interest in you to keep reading. If it did, maybe add it to your reading list or library so you could come back and read more when the next chapter is uploaded. Hit the star if you enjoyed! :)