Prologue

Well, my first proper CSI fanfic- the other being a cross with New York in the New York archive. This will be very violent and angst, and maybe a little graphic, so if that's not for you, then please don't read. The prologue is quite short but it is only a prologue, just a little taster! If you like it please leave a review. If not, constructive criticism is nice but no flames please!

Sara screamed. It was her worst nightmare. She didn't know where Nick was. She didn't know where Greg was. Or Warrick. Or Catherine.

All she knew was that Grissom would probably be sat completely clueless in the A/V lab, where she assumed he had watched the last broadcast. Warrick's beating. He knew she was in trouble.

He just didn't know how to find her.

"Don't scream. Not yet." A male voice whispered in her ear. Close. Too close, too close!

Sara felt her pride disintegrate as she began to beg. "Please! Please! Please don't do this!"
She whimpered softly as the owner of the voice clambered into the bed she was tied to. "Please, please."

"Manners will get you nowhere, Miss Sidle. Remember what happened to Stokes?"

Blood. Blood everywhere. Nick, moaning. Lying in the blood. His blood.

"He's watching this. Oh, they all are."

Eyes widening in horror, Sara watched as the man un buckled his belt and pulled off his clothes in about five seconds flat.

"NICK!" She screamed. "WARRICK? Greg, Cath, oh god, help me! SOMEONE HELP ME!"

The man just chuckled as he gently pushed up her t-shirt. She sobbed as the soft fabric left her body, and slid as far as it could go up her arms. When he pulled out a knife and sliced the fabric right off, she swallowed and started to struggle. Her hands and feet were each handcuffed to a bed post. She was in the most vulnerable position she thought she had ever been in. And she hated it. Her face set in stone as the man removed her bra, trousers and pants. She had stopped crying. It wasn't helping, and it wasn't her thing.

"Aw, have you stopped caring that two of your boys no longer breathe?" The man crooned, and Sara's heart dropped twelve stories.

Two are dead? Oh god, who? Nick? Greg? Or Warrick?

Tears pricked at Sara's eyes and the man nodded to a man with a camera as he pulled on a ski mask.
"Hello, Dr. Grissom."

Grissom? Oh, god...

"Haven't you always wanted to see this, doctor? She is rather stunning."

Grissom's voice crept through the speakers of a laptop somewhere to Sara's right.
"Please, let her go. Leave them alone. I...I'll do anything, please, you got me, you got me. Don't-"

Sara's heart lurched at the hopelessness of the tone of his voice when Grissom was interrupted.

"Ah- I don't think you have, besides I am a psychopath, remember?"

Imagining Grissom's face as his own words were thrown back in his face was easy for Sara. Silently, she promised that she wouldn't cry. She would be strong for Grissom. Nothing however could stop her heart and breathing racing at the speed of light as the man clambered on top of her.

And then it began.

Hell, agony. Sara's gasps betrayed her as the man plunged into her. The pain made her fail as everything she thought she had left was stripped from her as she screamed for help.

"GRISSOM!"