Midnight’s Edge is just shy of an hour from the Barn Motel. Matt gets there in half the time, and he lingers in the almost deserted parking lot. It's late in the year, far past the point for beach bunnies and family vacations. In fact, it's the sort of place that wouldn't have any of those things to begin with.

 

The water is sleet gray, only broken up by the crashing waves. White foam crests them, slamming into the shoreline. Trash litters the otherwise golden sand, these broken up beer cans and forgotten soda bottles, these pieces of life that have been thrown aside and forgotten.

 

A straggling shale cliff rises up in the distance. It looks like, once upon a time, it might have been a grand thing. But over the years, weather and human ignorance has nearly destroyed it, bringing it down to this pathetic stretch of gray stone, this half-hearted thing that is ignored more often than not.

 

Matt parks his bike just before taking a deep breath and waiting for back up to arrive.

 

# # #

 

While Matt waits, Killian continues to be a very busy man. He's set up on a section of beach that lays in the shadow of the crumbling shale cliff. His boots are caked in wet sand and so are the legs of his jeans.

 

Victoria has been stripped out of her nightgown. She's in nothing but her underwear at this point, the bra discarded and the ponytail ripped free. A thick rubber ball gag has been wedged into her mouth, forcing apart painted pink lips. Tears still run down her cheeks. Her breasts heave with every gasp.

 

Killian finds great amusement in the sight. He walks circles around her, trailing his fingers over her shoulders and the back of her neck. “Tell me,” he asks. “Do you think he's actually going to show up? Better yet, do you think he's going to come in here all on his own? That's what I told him to do.”

 

It isn't.

 

In fact, Killian left out that comment on purpose. He wants the rest of the Horsemen to be here. He wants them to see what a real leader looks like.

 

Victoria whines behind her gag. Spit bubbles up around the red rubber ball.

 

“I don't think so, either. I think he's going to show up here with the whole gang.” Killian laughs. He tugs at Victoria's hair. Then he kneels down in front of her, hands resting on the shoulders of the young princess. “What do you think I should do when he gets here?”

 

Victoria pleads to be let go with her eyes.

 

Killian ignores her. “Should I just sit here and wait?”

 

Victoria nods her head.

 

“Really? That seems a little boring to me,” says Killian. “I don't know if that's going to give off the right impression.”

 

His hands slide down, moving to cup Victoria's breasts. The zip tie-bound princess tries to get away, but it only results in her falling flat on her back. She's been tied up in a crude mockery of bondage, with ropes wrapped around her breasts and looped around her neck. Zip ties dig into her wrists. They wrap around her ankles, too, but the ropes keep her knees bent and her legs spread into an awkward and near painful diamond shape.

 

She shakes her head and starts crying anew.

 

Killian straddles her hips, pinning her on her back. “Easy now, pretty girl. We don't want you getting too worked up before your little boy toy shows up. We need a good show for him, after all. We need to let him know exactly what he brought down on you.”

 

Victoria screams behind her gag. She twists and writhes, but it does nothing but press her lithe body harder against Killian.

 

He grabs at her breasts again, fingers latching onto her nipples and pulling—hard. It's less about getting either of them off and more about getting Victoria visibly worked up. Killian is rough with her, doing his best to leave fingerprints on her sensitive flesh. Once he's satisfied that she looks defiled—even though she has not been, not really—he gets up and hauls her back onto her knees.

 

Then, slowly, he cuts the ropes until the only thing still holding Victoria captive is the zip tie around her wrists. He takes the gag out, too and then pulls out a gun.

 

Killian presses the barrel to the side of her temple. He says, “One wrong move, and I'll kill you. Understand?”

 

“Yes,” whimpers Victoria. “Yes, I understand.”