A/N: (SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG!) I just want to say that the BOLDED PASSAGES are flashbacks! They happened in the past. Just a reminder and also, this chapter will have violence and strong language. Reader discretion is advised. And also, ArcaneWriteStuff, for your first question, Skul is still dead but his façade covers his whole body. So I had the façade give him a stomach and other working organs – it's like a more advanced façade than the one China gave him. So he's dead and alive in a way. For your second question, his right arm was vaporized so they couldn't do anything to fix it. The only solution was to give him a new one. And thank you NarahSelson for your wonderful review. And ILoveChinduggery, don't worry! There will be some Chinduggery but it's not ROMANTIC! That's that so enjoy as always!

"You're sick of feeling numb,

You're not the only one,

I'll take you by the hand,

And I'll show you a world that you can understand,

This life is filled with hurt,

When happiness doesn't work,

Trust me and take my hand,

When the lights go out you will understand. . ."

Pain by Three Days Grace

It has been three days since the woman came to this inn. She sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed. There was tray of food in front of her. The man from the front desk brought it to her a little while ago. He brought all of her food for three days. And for those three days, she didn't eat a thing.

The woman had a glass cup in her hand and she was tracing the rim of it with her index finger. She appeared to be staring out the window but she wasn't. She wasn't staring at anything in particular; just staring off into space. She had been doing this ever since she arrived there and to the man from the front desk, it was getting kind of creepy.

She sat in that same spot for three days; wondering if they would come. She was wondering if they ever find her here and take her back to that place . . . that awful place. I should've eaten something, she thought dejectedly. So in case they do come, I'll have the strength to run away at any moment. But who was she kidding? She'll never get away from them. She always tried and always failed.

Whenever she managed to get away, it seemed like they were always one step ahead of her. Every time they brought her back from that place, the punishments and the torture would get even worse. She could remember one time when she tried to get away but they found her and later on punished her for it.

(0)

She was in a dark room now. She was on the floor; panting and bleeding. They had just bought her back from the drug store. No one saw them leave – at least that's what she thought. They had dragged her to this room and she kicked and screamed; wishing someone from the outside can hear her. But no one came to her rescue. They saw how she begged them to let her go and they laughed at her. They then entered this darken room – at least she thought it was dark, she couldn't really tell for sure. They dropped her on the floor and began to kick her. She lied there, curled up in a tight ball as they kicked and punched her and spat on her. She had cried out in pain; screaming for all this to stop.

Now here she was, sitting on the floor; broken and bruised. She was sobbing heavily; wishing the pain would go away. She then heard the door open. She turned toward the sound. Heavy footsteps fell onto the floor, hard. It was him, she had thought, the leader of all this chaos.He's here for me!

She had jumped to her feet or tried to, at least. That had earned a kick to the ribs. She screamed out in agony as she fell on her stomach. As she was on the floor, panting, she could hear him circling her slowly.

"I didn't tell you to get up, did I?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. She just took more deep breaths, not answering him immediately. He then grabbed her by the collar of her torn jersey shirt and pulled her closer. "DID I?!"

"No, no, you didn't . . .!" she whimpered before finishing with, ". . . master."

He dropped her and then turned away. He was trying to be calm on the outside but he was seething with rage on the inside. Did she really think she could get away from him? She must have if she escaped. But why didn't she keep running? It would've been much more fun that way but no – she had to get help.

When they found her, they had no choice but to shoot the store owner. He knew too much and he would've called the police if they hadn't killed him. The man chuckled silently. Did she really think that son of a bitch could stop him? No one can stop him and she can't get away from him. Besides, the Mistress needs her alive.

"Perhaps, I've underestimated you," he told her. "I guess I have to make sure you're watched twenty-four seven from now on. But for now, I think punishment is in order."

She tried to crawl away from him. "Please," she pleaded desperately. "I'll be good, I swear."

"You said that million times before, sweetheart. What makes this any different?"

She then could hear him walking closer to her. "Please," she said as she began to cry again. "Please, don't. Please, please don't . . .!"

(0)

The woman shook her head; trying to forget the horrible memory. She could still feel his weight on top of her. She could still hear him taunting her, telling her how she liked it. But she didn't. I don't like it, she thought. I don't, I don't, I don't, I-!

Suddenly, the wall to her left exploded and she screamed.

The Great Café was buzzing with activity. People came in and ordered what they wanted, waiters and waitresses bustled to and from tables, music played in the background, and everyone talked to one another. Yes, it seemed to be another normal day at the Great Café . . . well, if you call a skeleton crashing through the window normal.

Skulduggery Pleasant was thrown through the window of the famous Great Café. As he crashed into the wall, all the civilians inside screamed in terror. They all ran for the door as he struggled to sit up. When he was upright, a man was walking toward him.

He was a tall man with a bulky build, a bald head, and yellow eyes. He wore a mask that was similar to Tesseract's. He also wore a black leather suit, black boots, and a leather-studded collar was wrapped around his neck. The thing that really stood out was the glowing letter "S" on the man's forehead.

"Skulduggery Pleasant," the man boomed. "You die."

"Ok, then," the detective said as he got to his feet. "But let me just tell you, many people have tried to kill me and since I'm already dead, many have failed. So do yourself a favor, and surrender now or things will really get ugly."

"I am Machete," the man said. "And you must die." He began to walk toward Skulduggery who backed away slowly.

"So you're not surrendering?" Skulduggery asked as he snapped his fingers and a ball of fire appeared in his left palm. The Machete lunged for him and Skulduggery swung; his fiery fist smashing into the man's face. The Machete didn't even blink as he grabbed Skulduggery by the shirt and threw him across the room.

As he got back on his feet, Skulduggery pushed out both his palms – real and mechanical – and the air rippled; sending tables and chairs flying through the air. The Machete quickly held up his hands, and all of the tables and chairs exploded into millions of tiny pieces.

Through the mist of splinters, Skulduggery ran at him and began to punch the Machete repeatedly in the face. The Machete staggered back but he recovered quickly as he kicked Skulduggery in the chest. The detective fell onto his knees; gasping in pain. The Machete wrapped his arm around his neck in a death grip and pulled Skulduggery to him. The Machete then began to punch Skulduggery in the chest repeatedly.

Skulduggery gritted his teeth as pain spread throughout his body. As the Machete attempted to hit him again, the detective kicked out his right leg and swept the Machete's legs out from under him. The Machete roared as he fell onto the ground hard; taking the detective with him.

Skulduggery slammed his elbow into the Machete's face and when the grip around his neck was loose enough, he jumped to his feet. He grabbed an undamaged chair and hit the Machete over the head with it. The Machete growled in animalistic rage as he slammed his boot heel into Skulduggery's chest; sending the detective crashing into the counter.

"You're good." He said as he rubbed his jaw.

"So are you," the Machete said as he stalked towards him. "You're a worthy opponent but now you must die. The Mistress commands it."

Before Skulduggery could even move, the Machete grabbed his right arm and pulled. Wires snapped and sparks flew as his mechanical arm was ripped from his shoulder. Skulduggery screamed in pain as he grabbed at his injured shoulder. The Machete tossed the useless arm aside and grabbed the detective by the throat. He lifted the skeleton off the ground, and threw him across the room and back out the window.

The detective rolled across the pavement as he landed. He could hear dozens of people screaming around him, all of them running to get to safety. Slowly, he sat up on his knees. He could see the Machete coming up from behind. He held his bad shoulder as he got to his feet. He wasn't sure if his ribs were broken as well but it sure felt like it once he stood up straight. He then slowly began to move away; wincing every now and then.

The Machete laughed. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he asked as he grabbed Skulduggery from behind and lifted him off the ground. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and just die? The Mistress commands it."

And at that moment, Skulduggery Pleasant was suddenly airborne. He didn't even have the chance to register what was happening before he crashed through another brick wall and a woman screamed.

"Pain, without love

Pain, I can't get enough

Pain, I like it rough

'Cause I rather feel pain than nothing at all . . ."

Pain by Three Days Grace

A/N: I've decided to make this into a two-part chapter. I have a terrible case of Writer's Block. Again, sorry for the long wait. Stay tune for chapter six!