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She felt as though she were dying...

She was drowning, her head feeling heavy under water, and when she tried to lift it, she found she couldn't. A heavy weight was holding her down and under. No - it was a pair of inhumanly strong hands...

She struggled mightily, her arms flailing ineffectively at her sides as she desperately tried to raise her head, stop herself from dying.

One word came to her mind during the frightening ordeal - survival...

She'd been here far too long to just simply die. She'd been here over a week, but damn it, and hour was too long a time to spend in this hellhole! She was not going to go through all of this shit, this madness, only to end up dead at the hands of this lunatic...

The woman gasped and sputtered as her head was suddenly jerked upward - hard. The hand that still remained entangled in her long, now wet, brown hair, felt brutal in the way it handled her.

"You crazy little beautiful bitch... Don't you ever try a stunt like that again..."

His voice was so soft, and surprising calm as he threatened her, and that terrified her more than if he'd been screaming at the very top of his lungs.

She knew one thing for sure - that this John was one-hundred percent, certifiably insane. In fact, there was no way he couldn't be insane. Even if he'd planned, plotted and calculated the kidnapping, he was definitely a mental case.

The woman began to shake as she continued coughing and sputtering, choking as she brought up some of the bathtub water. Her bloodshot eyes stared up at him fearfully. This was the second time he'd done this to her. Somehow, she'd actually given the sick bastard the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't, after he hadn't done it after the first time.

She would never make that mistake again... Where this asshole was concerned, she had to expect the unexpected. Anything was possible because he was crazy - and crazy people were unpredictable.

"Don't you ever - and I mean ever - defy me again!" the man said, this time yelling. He smiled, his features softening somewhat.

"Angelica...I know you're a bit of a rebel, but try to tame that part of yourself down...it's for your own good..."

She stared at him with widened, terror-filled eyes, her choking finally subsided. She thought about how oddly accurate his statement was - after all, she did have the word 'rebel' tattooed on the back of her neck in Russian.

She couldn't speak. All she could do was continue to shake, the spasms worsening by the moment.

*

Amy woke up abruptly, her breathing heavy and almost ragged as she glanced around furtively.

Adam - he was the first thing she saw, and for his beloved presence she was grateful. They were in a rental car... Traveling to the next city... She'd fallen asleep shortly after they'd started their trip.

Oh, God...

"Ames...Baby, are you all right?" The blond man's eyes were filled with concern as he eyed her.

She shook her head, and for a second, thought she wouldn't be able to speak.

"N-no...I..." She looked at him sorrowfully. "I think I'm going to be sick..." The redhead began to cry as she spoke those last seven words.

In a hurry, Adam pulled the car over to the side of the road. The moment he did, Amy undid her seatbelt, unlocked the door and rushed out. From there, she nearly collapsed onto the ground, on hands and knees, and vomited the entire contents of the breakfast she'd eaten not even an hour earlier.

"Oh, God..." The Canadian was nearly weeping himself as he knelt beside his fiancee on the ground, one arm gently supporting her as she continued to get sick.

He told himself that this was it. He was going to get her help - even if he had to drag her kicking and screaming to get it...