Warning: This is going to be a hardcore fic and not in a sexy, smutty way. There will be a lot of pain, physical and emotional pain. I will put both of them through a lot in this story. It's gonna be extremely dark and angsty! So, if you have a squeamish soul you might not wanna read this and we'll jump right into it. Just so you know!

I'm pretty sure the albums of the group Two Steps From Hell are going to accompany me throughout this story. These songs just set the exact right mood for writing this hardcore angst. Seriously, the song Archangel is just awesome sauce.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! I wish I would, though! :-)

Chapter 1

The pain tore through his body as the fangs of the wolf bore deep into the muscles of his thigh, his body automatically jerking back, trying to escape the pain but he almost dislocated his shoulders as the chains around his wrists yanked him back. He was standing in the middle of the room, his hands were bond to a chain hanging down from the ceiling, his feet were chained to the ground in a wide stance.

His shirt had been torn into pieces some time ago, his leather pants were hanging in shreds from his hips, his feet were bare, the ice-cold ground had turned them half-numb hours ago. He'd completely lost track of time, he didn't know how long they were torturing him, he didn't know how long they would continue to torture him.

His breathing was erratic, his mind fuzzy, cold sweat ran down his body and his throat was raw from screaming. Then the teeth of the wolf dug into his flesh again and he arched his back, waves of pain shaking his body, another scream ripping through his throat as the wolf almost completely bit through his thigh.

His vision blurred but before he lost consciousness one of his tormentors stepped beside him and put his hand on his thigh, a strange black and orange shimmering light rushing out of his hand and he could feel the wound closing, the sharp pain subsiding into a dull throb.

They were torturing him for hours now. Healing most of the wounds almost immediately again with some kind of dark magic, leaving some wounds half-healed, never relieving him completely from the pain.

He lifted his head tiredly, watching the dark figures that walked through the room. They weren't human, at least not entirely. They looked human for most parts. Their hands were definitely human, though they were eerily pale but something was off with their faces and as one of the creatures turned its head a flicker of light streamed over its face and Killian sucked in a breath. The irises of its eyes were coal-black, the pupils bright red. Its cheeks were hollowed, making it look almost skeletal.

He could hear the strange clicking sounds these creatures obviously used to communicate and his head fell back on his chest, the effort to hold it up too much in his weakened state. Every cell in his body was screaming with pain, in some parts it was only a slight humming, in other parts where they hadn't healed the wounds he could feel his skin burning, the wounds pounding in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

All of a sudden an inhuman cry echoed through the room and it took him a second to realize that it was his own voice, his brain apparently trying to disconnect itself from his body but failing as another agonizing pain ripped through his body. His tormentor was shoving a metal pipe deeper into his thigh, turning it around and Killian could feel small spikes tearing his flesh open.

He had no idea what these creatures wanted from them. They hadn't even tried to communicate and all his hope faded away as he remembered through the throbbing waves of pain the whispers he'd heard during his journeys. The whispers about creatures who fed of pain, who healed their victims over and over again, having perfected their torture methods over centuries that now their victims seldom died.

His eyes fluttered open and he could feel dull shock swiping over him. Was he doomed to spend a lifetime in everlasting pain?

Suddenly the creature closed in on him and pressed a hand against his forehead and it felt as if it pressed a red-hot knife on his brain. Memories overflowing him, pictures flickering over his closed eye lids. It was manipulating his brain, inflicting a much worse kind of torture as Milah's face popped up in his brain.

He wanted to open his eyes, wanted to end it but he couldn't open them, no matter how hard he tried. A whimper escaped his throat as Milah was smiling at him before her face suddenly changed in an expression of surprise and shock, the expression she'd worn after Rumpelstiltskin had ripped her heart out. Killian wanted to turn his head away but the hand on his forehead was keeping him frozen in his place, his tormentor letting him relive Milah's death over and over again until he screamed for mercy, his heart aching with the loss of his love.

The hand shifted on his forehead and suddenly a blond woman appeared in front of his eyes. Blue-green eyes looking at him scrutinizingly and then her screams filled his head, pictures of her jerking away from the hot iron one of the creatures pressed against her stomach searing through him before the hand was suddenly gone and the pictures faded away.

"Noooo!" Killian struggled against his restraints, ripping at the chains until his wrists and ankles started bleeding, his voice breaking as he screamed. "Noooo! Emma!"

He didn't even realize that he'd started crying. Tears were streaming over his face as the torment of the last few hours was just overwhelming him. He didn't care what they were doing to him, he didn't care if he would die. But he cared about Emma. She had family, family she needed to get back to. He had no one. It wouldn't matter when he wouldn't come back. But she had loved ones at home. Parents who she'd just found, a son who needed her. He had to get her out of here alive. Somehow he needed to save her.

Apparently his tormentors had decided that they'd tortured him enough for one day as he felt the cuffs around his wrists loosen and he fell to the ground. But they just yanked him up again, dragging him over the ground and out of the room, opening the door at the end of the floor and throwing him in.

He couldn't move for several minutes, his brain occupied with dealing with the pain that rolled over his body but he knew he needed to find Emma. He needed to see if she was still alive. Slowly he pressed his hand against the ground, pushing himself carefully up, balancing his weight on his stump.

Looking into the darkness, he could detect a figure laying at the other end of the room, her blond hair clearly visible against the dark concrete she was lying on. Groaning softly, he started to crawl over to her, using his stump to push himself forward, every inch he came closer to her shooting an agony of pain through his body but he kept moving, gritting his teeth, his eyes focused on her.

But after several feet he had to stop, his body shaking so vehemently that he could hardly keep himself up, his breath ragged and labored. Slowly he moved himself forward inch for inch, having to pause every few seconds. She was almost in his reach and he skimmed his eyes over her body, trying to determine how severe her injuries were.

He could hardly recognize her face, her whole body was covered with dried blood and he couldn't determine which wounds were healed and which not. He wanted to touch her, wanted to make sure that she was still breathing. But his body refused to cooperate any longer, crashing into the ground and he couldn't find the strength in him to get up on his elbows again. The only thing he could manage was pulling his arm out from underneath his body and stretching it out, reaching for her hand.

"Emma." He whispered, his hand coming closer to hers but as he reached her fingertips he had to pause. The blackness of unconsciousness was pulling at him and even though he tried to fight it he lost the battle and his eyes fluttered close, his last whispered words hanging in the air between them. "Why did you follow me?"

I know it's a little on the short side but it's only the prologue. It wouldn't give me any rest until it was written. But now I really have to force myself to take a break from writing for a few days because I fried my 'writing brain' with all this angst and I need some time to recover. But I'll be back! :-)

Thanks for reading and please review!