Oh my god. Pylea was... nothing compared to this. God, Wesley, he's going to kill, me. No, he is going to rape and beat me, before he kills me. What did I do? I must've sinned, like my mother used to say, if you sinned bad enough, you'd end up in hell. If I thought Pylea was hell, what is this? I had thought... that he was nice. I kinda liked him in the 'I live you and wouldn't it be nice if we might go out on a date or something sometime way'. And now I'm gonna suffer worse then I had ever imagined, because of it. And because of some kid that happened to have demon lineage and had a grudge against women.

Oh, god, he's here. He can hear me breathing, and he's here. And I can't ever scream, because I'm so scared. I'll hold my breath and count to twenty. He'll have gone by then. One, two, three...

"Boo."

"Wesley, please..."

"Shut up, you whore. Nothing you say is going to matter. You're still going to die. No one wants to hear your incessant whining. Nobody cares. You think you can tease me like that, dress and act like it's okay to taunt men, make us feel for you, and then leave, snickering to each other and expect to get away with it?" His voice raises, and the next thing I know, he's pulled me up from under the desk, and had his hand around my throat, hanging in the air.

"No. I-I mean, I never-"

"Oh, don't deny it. I've heard you and the slut snickering when my back is turned." He chuckles deep in his throat, and pins me to the desk. "Well now I'm the one laughing. And you're getting what's coming to you." He rips the shoulder-strap of my dress, and grabs my butt with his other hand.

"Oh, god, Wes, think, you don't want to do this. Please-" A sharp pain to my face.

"Didn't I tell you to *shut up* you little whore?" He laughs again, and I'm even more terrified then I was before. "Make that *my* little whore." Hot tears start to spill down my face, but I can't wipe them away. I can't even move. And he's right. I am going to die.

But not before he makes sure I suffer.