A now skittish Callie was back in the city after much preparation of her mind and trying to keep it all together. She was panicking about anything and everything; afraid that what happened last time she was in the city might happen again and afraid that something awful has happened to Erik. It had been four days since that horrible event and the disappearance of Erik. His note was making her think the most dreadful of things had happened and she was never going to see him again. Charlie had been unreachable and not answering his phone which was making her panic even more.

Eyes darted from one person to the other as they walked by her and she scooted in the opposite direction of them as they passed afraid to get too close. To everyone else it would look like she was afraid of catching a disease or cooties if she got too close to another person.

The girl was wearing a white t-shirt and baggy jean overalls with white tennis shoes. Hair was tied back to keep it out of her face. She sat down in a huff on a bench and rested her elbows on her knees as she leaned over and clutched her head in her hands. Frustration was overwhelming at this point which was causing tears to well up. Two of the three people she cared about were missing and she felt like she was going to break then and there. She had departed quite early that morning before Cecily woke up and had gone back to the cabin that she had lived quite a bit of time in and had just sat on her bed staring into nothing. The feeling of being totally loss was looming in her head. She had nobody except Cecily now; no mother, no Erik and no Charlie.

She sat there in all her frustration not knowing what to do.

A shadowy figure skulked through shadows, watching Callie as she made her way down sidewalks and things, looking skittish. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He wanted to see how she was doing and a pleasant smile graced his lips when he found out she looked horrible. Skittish, afraid.

God knows how long he'd been following her, he came up behind her, behind the bench she was sitting at and put his hands over her eyes. He had to lean over slightly but it still had a scary effect.

Logan was scary. You have to admit, a black-haired boy with piercing ice blue eyes, black lipstick, pale complexion, black colored nails, baggy black Goth pants, all those piercings and those facial expressions was... at least mildly scary.

"Guess who?"

Heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she heard that eerie voice. She would never forget that voice. The girl shot straight up and backed away from him right into a light pole but moved away quickly and continued backing down the street.

”Get away from me.” Voice was shaky as she looked around for some place to get away from him. At least it was a busy time of the day and hopefully he wouldn’t try anything foolish with a million people walking up and down the sidewalks.

If he didn't try something in front of a million people he wouldn't be Logan. He liked his acts to be public. He smirked devilishly then looked somewhat hurt.

"Aww. I'm not allowed to check up on you? How cold of you."

He followed her like a hound dog, stalking slowly.

"I expect you wounds healed up nicely?"

She bumped into somebody as she walked backwards and he told her to watch where she was going. Her eyes didn’t even look at him, too transfixed on Logan’s form to wander anywhere else.

Checking up on her? He was sick. Really sick. Her stomach was tying itself in knots.

”Please leave me be.” She was pleading again with him in a whispering tone. Of course her wounds had healed up nicely as they were fixed almost instantly by Cecily. Not a cut could be seen on her where there should have been deep gashes and no doubt stitches.

"Aw, I see you still haven't come up with anything other to say." He frowned deeply in disappointment. "How boring. I guess I'll just have to beat something new into you." He said coldly, stepping forward and finally grabbing hold of her wrist.

"I see that your wounds have healed up nicely. A pity. I'll just have to make some new ones for you, hm?"

She began to panic again as he grabbed hold of her wrist and she tried to pull away from him. No. Not again.

”No. I don’t want any new ones.” Her hand that was free came up and grabbed hold of his hand that was holding on to her and tried to pull it away from the grasp around her wrist.

"I never asked you what you wanted. Don't be so conceited." He spat, tightening his grip as she tried pulling away from him.

"Don't deny me. Strike one."

He pulled on her wrist now.

"What's your pretty little name?"

”I didn’t mean to be.” Geez he knew how to twist words and make her seem horrible, but of course she did feel horrible at the moment. Charlie and Erik were nowhere to be found and she felt it was her fault that they seemed to have vanished. Erik had left a note but Charlie had left nothing.

How could anyone not deny the evil spawn of demons? It would be pretty hard for her to even attempt to go anywhere willingly with him.

She shook her head no as he asked for her name. That didn’t sound like a very good idea to do. But yet if she kept her mouth shut no doubt it would make him even madder. Either way it would be bad and thus remained quiet about not telling her name.

"What? You've done it so long you don't know when you do it? You're disgusting." He tugged harder on her wrist and stepped forward against the motion, slapping her across the face.

"Strike two. Tell me, what's your name?"

She didn’t want to say anything else to him. Everything she said he only twisted the meanings around and she hated it. As he slapped her across the face it flashback of the first encounter four days ago went running through her mind. It caused her to panic and somehow break free of his grasp as he asked for her name again. She took of running down the street hoping against everything to get away.

"Strike three, doll. And you're out." He casually followed her, real hands in his pockets, invisible hands placed upon her shoulders, stopping her or at least slowing her down.

"You should know better to not run away from your problems."

She could feel the invisible hands and thought he was behind her and when she turned to try and get him away she found that nobody was there. More magic. Another man bumped into her as he walked by and told her to watch where she was going. Didn’t these people care that she was in distress? Obviously only three people did and two of them were nowhere to be found. Eyes locked on to Logan’s form again who was still following her. She just stood there frozen in fear. If she ran again it would only have the magic stopping her yet again. It seemed like quite a hopeless case.

Logan wasn't worried somebody was going to stop him. "What? Your little friends aren't here to save you? They really don't care, do they?" He just gave a gentle smile as she stopped and sidled up to her, taking her wrist again and twisting it... but the gesture wasn't cruel... yet. HE was spinning her. "Let's dance."

She just cast her gaze downward as he spoke of nobody caring about her. It felt that way. Cecily was the only one around anymore and she was glad that she was, but unable to find Erik or Charlie was putting a gap in her life that couldn’t be fixed. She felt her wrist grabbed tightly again which caused her stomach to tighten as he spun her around. Dance? This wasn’t a very good time to do that and she didn’t even know how.

”Whatever.” She really didn’t care at the moment. It was as if she’d given up all of a sudden.

"Oh, nonchalant now? Moodswings? PMS, maybe? How brave." He pressed himself to her body now, his hands realeasing her wrist and snaking and slinking down to her hips. He swayed back and forth.

Just a little dance. Harmless.

That is, except for the invisible claws scraping down her back.

Fun.

She winced at the scraping claws down her back and as her face finally looked up from the sidewalk and looked at him her face was wet from obvious tears. Like he cared that she was crying, but she didn’t know what else to do. She could feel her pulse racing faster as his hands went to her hips.

”Why are you doing this?” She whispered out where only he could hear.

He sighed. "Oh, this question has long since grown old. You should know by now. Because it's fun." His hands went opposite directions now, one underneath the knee while the other one retreated back up to her neck. He easily lifted her up, carrying her with a graceful ease, the way one holds a child. His hold was surprisingly gentle, however vile his intentions were.

"Now, let's go somewhere." He started off in the opposite direction.

Heart pounded faster as he lifted her off the ground and carried her. Eyes grew wide. No. Let’s not go somewhere. She wasn’t sure how she would get away now though with him carrying her. If she kicked and screamed she wasn’t sure what the consequences would be. Though if she went quietly surely she would still get hurt. It was a lose/lose situation. She searched frantically with her eyes to find someplace familiar that she could escape to but could find none.

”Where are we going?” Voice was panic filled but yet she didn’t make any motions to escape. Her body was numb and she couldn’t seem to work anything to get her moving. Logan didn’t even have to do anything at this point she was so filled with fear she didn’t know what she should or should not do.

"You'll find out. You like surprises, right?" He asked quietly. If the voice didn't belong to Logan it would have been soothing. "At least you're not blind-folded.... though that is a grand idea."

He kept walking.

(blah, crappy sorry.)

”No.” Not this kind of surprise. Her head shook in the gesture as ‘no’ as well to accompany what she spoke softly.

”No please. No blind folds.” That would only cause her to freak out more and end up starting to kick and try and get away. However her eyes did keep looking around for hopefully some sort of savior or place to get away from him. It wasn’t looking good though. Nobody seemed to care as she was carried down the street, all of them minding their own business. Her eyes pleaded with each and every one of them but they only seemed to turn away. What was wrong with people?

He gave a sigh. "You know... you're really boring."

He continued walking in deadly silence, listening to the city life and watching as the people turned away. They seemed to know his intentions but didn't care at all.

He continued onward until all life seemed to die away. Some might seem a little uncertain they were still in the city. He was at the steps of a familiar porch.

"We're hee-eere." He sing-songed.

”I’m sorry.” Why was she sorry that she was boring though? Who knows? Perhaps it was just instinct that caused her to apologize after dealing with her mother for so long.

The eerie silence that followed was deafening and the only sound she could hear besides his shoes hitting pavement was her heart pounding in her ears.

She looked up at the place when he spoke that they were there and eyes grew wide again. They were going to a house? That definitely wasn’t good. Erik. She spoke rather frightened in her head, though something had told her he wouldn’t hear. He hadn’t heard last time.

”You….” She bit down on her lip, afraid to say anything else. Eyes diverted to the ground as she started crying again. Why she hadn’t attempted to run away yet was beyond her comprehension. Perhaps hopelessness and what she knew happened the last time she tried had combined together to make her not care anymore.

"You better be." Sorry, that is. Why? Because it was a mean thing to say.

He didn't even bother looking around before climbing up the rickety old stairs, frowning as each creek of the steps reached his ears. Damn things.

He opened the door with one hand, dropping Callie carelessly on the floor.

"I what? Say it, bitch." He stepped into the house, kicked her out of the way and slammed the door shut behind him.

The creaking of the stairs was the last thing on her mind. Her attention was on the door and she knew that once it was closed it would be three times as hard to escape from him. However just as she was planning to do something she was dropped to the ground which made her forget anything she was about to do. The kick only enforced the fact that she couldn’t think about anything other than pain now in her back as she scooted away from him and to the wall trying to curl up into a ball.

Again with that name. She still didn’t get what it meant. Her mother had called her that sometimes as well, but never understood what it meant. Wasn’t like anyone had stopped to explain it now did they?

”I just wondered if you lived here.” She cried out as he asked her to finish what she was going to say. It was a horrible and rickety old place so she wasn’t sure if he lived here or not. Of course it wasn’t the first thing on her mind anymore.

"No, I don't live here. What made you think that?" He didn't want her to answer that, by the way. He didn't even care.

"Let's play a little game." He said slowly, walking over to a familiar table. This was the same house he'd kept Keye in. The kennel was in the corner of the room. He leaned up against a chair, playing with a loaded gun, spinning it on the table. He picked it up.

"Tell me, what's your name?"

And she wasn’t going to reply to that question or when he spoke of playing a game. His games were never any good. The last time she had a trash bin get hurled at her. She looked up at him finally from where she was curled up against the wall to see him playing with a gun. That definitely made her heart race faster and fear was evident in her eyes as she looked from the gun to him and back to the gun. He asked for her name yet again and she debated for while as to whether she should give it to him or not. However something was telling her that if she didn’t she may end up getting shot and she’d been shot more times that she would like in her life time. In fact she’d been shot twice in the leg just a few weeks ago. That was not a feeling she would like to experience anytime soon.

”Callie.” She finally whispered out as her gaze returned to the floor. Yet another instinct that was beaten into her by her mother is to never make eye contact for too long. It seemed like all the submissive gestures that she had learned so well were creeping back into her body with this new tormentor.

"Callie what?" He asked, finger on the trigger of the gun now. "And what is it that you are, Callie?" He asked in a rather calm tone, watching her submit. She was nothing more than a toy to him.

Just for the record, he still planned on shooting her.

”I don’t have a last name. It’s fake.” Meaning it didn’t matter if she said it or not since it didn’t really apply to her or used at all except for traveling between countries.

She looked up as he asked what she was and then returned to looking at the ground. Callie wasn’t proud of what she was and saying it aloud was always difficult.

”A Siren.” She whispered out again.

"What? I'm sorry. Speak louder because I can't hear you." He fired off a shot into her shoulder. He didn't flinch, didn't twitch, didn't do anything. He didn't even care.

"Say it louder."

She screamed as the bullet penetrated her shoulder. Her hand came up and clutched where it hit her. Now she was crying even more with the horrible pain in her shoulder. What was it with her and being shot? It seemed to be the most frequent way of pain lately for her.

”A Siren.” She choked out in a louder voice.

"Better. What business have you in Bayfield, siren? Your kind disgusts me." he fired the gun off again but only shot the wall just a hair above her head.

"Lay down."

He threw the gun on the floor and he kicked it out of her reach.

”No business.” She wasn’t sure what she had here anymore other than Cecily with Erik nowhere to be found as well as Charlie disappearing. She flinched as he fired off the gun again and ducked down away from where he shot.

The crying started again as he told her to lie down. She did so reluctantly and her stomach turned in knots not wanting to know why he was telling her to do so. It made her legs tighten together subconsciously.

”Please….please don’t.” She knew it was a hopeless attempt to plead with him, but she couldn’t help but do so.

"Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Greece or something?" Sirens were from Greek legends, weren't they?

When she laid down he only had a vague thought about more foul play. But that wasn't what he wanted exactly. He took off her socks and shoes and started dragging her into another room by the ankles.

”We left. And I wasn’t in Greece I was in Italy.” Not like he cared or anything. It’s not like her kind were confined to Greece, it’s just where most of the legends took place.

As he started dragging her by her feet it brought back vivid images of the dark shack and her mother dragging her across the floor on her stomach which had been stripped of flesh. It made her stomach tighten and instinctively she started kicking to get him to stop.

”No! Leave me alone!” She screamed and kicked more.

"You should have stayed there, scum."

He continued dragging her, tightening his grip as she kicked. "Don't bother fighting me. You won't win." His nails dug into her ankles. Teeth he conjured with his mind bit into skin to remind her of his power.

He dragged her down the stairs.

She bit her lip to squelch a yelp as she felt him dig and cut skin around her ankles. Indeed it reminded her of what he could do and she quickly went limp once more. Being dragged downstairs is not much fun either and attempts at trying to latch onto a step as they went down were all in vain.

He continued dragging her until she was at a wall. Then he stopped and lifted her onto a table supposed to be used for eating on. It smelled like sex, vomit, blood, and rotting flesh in this basement. Logan didn't seem to notice.

"Don't move."

He wandered off into another room.

The place smelled so fowl that it really did make her want to vomit. She had to put a hand over her mouth to try and stop her from doing so. Eyes watched as he told her not to move and then went into another room. Gaze wandered to the stairs for a moment seriously debating to try and leave.

Perhaps she was stupid or frozen. Either way she felt stupid for staying put on the wretched table.

Logan quickly returned with what looked surprisingly similar to a nailgun. Perhaps because that's what it was.

He plugged it into the wall and hel it in one hand, his other hand now holding Callie's forearm. "Hold still."