Chapter Text
Victoria could feel herself fall in and out of consciousness. Each time, she'd get flashes of Mark Jefferson's face crawling closer to her with his camera... Then a flash of light, then nothing.
Where was she...? What was happening?
She was so confused, so lost in her own delirium. Nathan? Mr. Jefferson? Why...?
Why...?
Max had warned her about Nathan, then she'd gone to Mr. Jefferson for help... She couldn't believe this was real.
She was completely unable to move. So much so that even if she wasn't tied up, it wouldn't make a difference. She felt numb, groggy. Disconnected from her body, to the point she wondered if she was already dead. The feeling of disgust that washed over her, however, confirmed her status as living.
That wasn't much of a relief—the feeling was unbearable. She was sobbing—and all she could see was a dark blur. Darkness.
Max had warned her of this—was it really what poor Kate Marsh had gone through... ? God, no—she couldn't even dare to imagine it. She was terrified. She was disgusted. Fuck, she—
Jesus fucking christ, poor Kate. Perhaps Victoria deserved this—all of this. Maybe this was all... Poetic comeuppance. Justice for her horrible actions. Perhaps she was the monster. And God was punishing her for the pain she inflicted on Kate.
But she... She didn't want to die like this. She was only eighteen! There was so much she hadn't done yet. She hadn't loved herself yet. She hadn't even liked herself yet!
She was hyperventilating, now. Or, at least, she thought so. She was so disorientated that she couldn't quite pinpoint any bodily reaction of hers. All she knew was that she wanted to rip her own skin off, so that no cell of hers will have ever been touched by that man... God, that man... She remembered, now.
She thought it was all Nathan—her Nathan, as Max said—but had Max been wrong? She was too scared to think straight, but she remembered Jefferson's unsettling face so clearly. What had he done to her... ? God, what had he done to her—and where was Nathan? Where was Max?
She felt cold. Unimaginably cold, like a corpse. She didn't want to die—she was only eighteen! She hadn't even gotten to apologise properly yet!
What was going to happen to her? God, no more—she had to be strong, but she was so, so weak. What she'd done to Kate was unforgivable... Now she was in the hospital—and Victoria was here. Wherever here was.
She'd do anything to see Kate once more. Just to apologise properly. Just to tell her how fucking sorry she was, not expecting any sort of forgiveness... Kate would have to be an angel to forgive her. But then again... She was one, wasn't she?
Victoria was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To have not believed Kate, to have trusted Mark Jefferson. Shit, she'd put so much trust in Mark Jefferson. But he was too good to be true. How did she miss the signs... ?
Her mind spiralled. What if that monster had manipulated Nathan as well? He was unstable, he was desperate... He was looking for a father figure. What if Mark—Jefferson—took advantage of that? He must have. Victoria wanted to believe it, to believe in Nathan—but it didn't make things any better, any more comforting, any less disgusting and terrifying.
She had to survive, she had to. To get answers, for Nathan. To see Kate again. She'd survive just to see Kate again.
She heard thunder, outside. It sounded all the more terrifying. Perhaps it truly was the end of the world. And perhaps she'd face it alone, scared, in a dark bunker.
She heard steps, too. Even the dim white light felt blinding in her state. She felt Jefferson's presence again, then shebsaw him—needle in hand.
He turned her over, her back against the floor. She'd been laying down in a fetal position, she now realised. She felt entirely exposed to him,with her arms and legs tied up. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears.
He got closer and grabbed her by the collar. He was mumbling something, but she couldn't quite focus on what it was. She tried her hardest to listen.
“...little whore... blackmail... unfuckable bitch... obnoxious know-it-all...”
She couldn't process any of it, especially with his hand now around her neck, pulling her up. She was so scared... She thought she heard Rachel Amber's name—and felt shivers down her spine. He was making a comparison, it seemed, which elevated her against Victoria's “mediocrity.”
God, he—he was he the one who...? Oh, no... No, no... Not Rachel too. Victoria felt inexplicable guilt wash over her body again, which twitched at his touch. Nobody deserved this. Not Kate, not Rachel, not—
She heard Nathan's name, then. She tried to focus more. “Your little friend was easy to break,” she heard him say. “And it'll be equally as easy to pin all of this on him, now that he's gone and can't do anything about it. Isn't that almost too easy? Too obvious?”
She cried even more intensely, at that. No, she couldn't believe it—Nathan...
He laughed, almost as if he was lecturing her.
“For someone who payed so much attention in class, you should have seen this coming. But I suppose you were too busy being a thirsty bootlicker.”
The syringe hovered over her neck and she knew this must be the end. “... i'm sorry... i'm sorry...” She mumbled weak apologies to the universe. He laughed and squeezed her throat. “I'm sorry, Kate, I'm sorry—”
He slapped her.
“Nobody will hear you. Nobody will save you. There's not a single person who'll genuinely miss you anymore—and isn't that the most delicious irony... ?” He smiled. “But don't worry. This last dose won't hurt.”
Just then—she felt her head suddenly hit the ground again—as if she was dropped, and everything went blurry for a moment. But she'd never felt the needle touch her skin... She closed her eyes nonetheless.
“Jefferson! It's over!” She heard a voice like a growl.
She heard yelling. She heard a struggle. Men, there were men. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy as she did.
She heard a gunshot and caught her breath, then another one. They both caused her to squirm and whimper—she was terrified.
She heard stuff being thrown around during the altercation and got back to her fetal position, trying to muffle her own cries. She could hear swearing, stuff breaking—
Suddenly, it all stopped. Had she fallen unconscious? Was she dead, at last...? Or...?
Suddenly, she felt someone come over her. A pair of hands on her shoulders—and she wiggled to get away, crying desperately as she did.
No more. No more. No more—she wanted to throw up.
“Oh Lord, poor girl—” It wasn't Jefferson... It was... “are you okay? Are you alright? Can you move?”
She felt the ropes around her wrists and ankles come loose, as the gentle hands helped her sit up.
She got a clearer look at him. David Madsen—the Security Guard of Blackwell... There was some blood dripping from his forehead, but he didn't seem too injured. He had a bulletproof vest on.
There were more men, in the background. Police officers, tieing up an injured and unconscious Mark Jefferson.
She was so thankful to see David. She cried more, burying her face in his shoulder. Her tears stained his shirt, which was already somewhat stained by some blood that had dripped from his injury.
“Madsen, put her on the sofa and make sure she isn't injured. Keep an eye on Jefferson too while we investigate the place.”
“Yes, sir!” David told one of the officers. He carefully picked up Victoria and carried her onto the sofa.
“... He dr... drugged me...” She struggled to speak. He nodded, as if he knew. “I... I don't remember... H-He took...”
“You don't have to say anything. Are you injured?” David asked, as calmly as he could manage. She was trying to hold onto his sleeve, still, but she could barely feel her arms and legs.
“... I don't know—” she let out an anguished cry. “I don't know, I don't know... ”
He shushed her calmly, “he won't hurt you anymore, you're safe now—” he told her. “The nightmare is over... You won't ever see him again. You're going to be fine, miss Chase—and this monster is going to jail. For life, I'll make sure of it.”
This comforted her, oddly. “Max... Is Max—” Victoria sobbed, now wondering if Jefferson had gotten to her before he'd gotten to Victoria.
“Max is safe,” David said. “She sent me here.”
Victoria was relieved to here that and she let out a sigh.
“I was so scared, I'm so scared—I—I—” she tried to breathe at a more normal pace.
“I know... I know—” he nodded sadly, patting her shoulder. “You don't seem to have any cuts or bruises, and nothing looks broken.”
He held her hand once he noticed she was trying to grab her sleeve. “The numbness and the weakness is because of dose he gave you... And your breathing is because of the panic.”
She focused on his words. He spoke calmly and slowly enough, so that she'd be *able* to focus. She was grateful for that.
The storm outside didn't seem to calm down. And, God, was it cold down here.
“I got you,” David noticed her shivering and looked around, finding a brown leather jacket laying somewhere. Victoria quickly recognised it as Nathan's—and her heart was overflown by sorrow, grief...
David placed it over her shoulders carefully and held her hand again. The pace of her breathing had calmed down, somewhat. And although her eyes were still filled with tears, she was no longer crying erratically.
“Thank you...” She said, weakly, “Mister Madsen... I—I thought I was going to die... You saved my life, I—I'm forever in your dept...”
“No, no you're not—” he shook his head. “It's my duty, you don't owe me anything at all...” He tried to smile. “Victoria, right? Chase?”
She nodded.
David had noticed the binder with her name on the desk. He'd been disgusted at the pictures—and decided to never let Victoria see them for herself. She didn't need to re-live any of that.
“I want to... To leave this place...” She hugged herself, now that she could somewhat move her arms. “Please...”
“I'm afraid it isn't safe... There is an awful storm outside.”
Victoria whimpered at that—she knew, yes, she'd heard it. It was terrifying. Her eyes—now able to see—couldn't move away from Jefferson handcuffed on the ground. David got in the way, blocking him out of sight.
“Hey, hey... It's okay. He can't do anything. Not anymore.” She nodded at his words, then look around.
“My ph-phone—” she spoke, “my friends...”
“I'll find it for you.” David said, going to look around at the desk. “This one?” He brought it over to her and she grabbed it, opening it immediately.
So many missed calls and messages...
She played a voice mail... From Nathan.
He was crying: “Victoria... I—If you're hearing this, then he's already gotten me... I—I hope you're safe, I hope he hasn't gotten to you yet. Please. Stay away from Jefferson. I'm sorry. I wish I could... Take it all back... Explain everything to you... I'm sorry... I didn't want anyone to be hurt... Thank you for being here for me... For being the only person who... Listened...”
She was shaking; she began sobbing, again.
“Poor thing...” David didn't know what to say. He wanted to kill Jefferson right then and there. He found a bottle of water and brought it to her. “Here, drink up.”
He helped her sip some water, while Victoria remained focused on her phone—hands shaking.
Another message, from the contact “Sweet-T” began playing. It was Taylor.
“Bitch, where are you? I'm starting to freak out, Victoria. I'm starting to freak out a lot. You said you were going to get help. Please, tell me you're okay. Please.”
Then another one, from Taylor again: “Vic, please. I'm panicking. I need to know you're okay. I'm with Courtney and we can't go out. This storm could fucking kill us! Please tell me you're safe somewhere. No-one has seen Nathan! I'm scared shitless! Jefferson—are you with him? Leave me on read if you must, just give me a sign you're okay!”
And then another messag, from the same number—but this time, Courtney was speaking. “Victoria! I can't find Taylor, or anyone—she went out to look for you, left her phone with me... But this storm is des... AH—!”
The message ended abruptly. Victoria looked up at David, horrified. Tears stsrted streaming down her face again. She weakly spoke into her phone:
“Taylor, sweetie—Courtney—I'm okay, I'm okay now—”
She prayed for a reply that never came.