Rabastan's strong hand pushed him hard into the bed. His other fingered Draco's waistband as Draco struggled to free himself. Fenrir had removed his shoes off, and then physically tore off his trousers. Rabastan also didn't take his time. He pulled down his boxers and then ripped his shirt off him with extensive force. He was naked and completely at their mercy. Rabastan hit him a few times as he struggled, still fruitlessly attempting to escape, but they were clearly stronger than him. Rabastan pushed him more onto the bed, spreading his legs, though he tried to resist.
                              
"No! Please... let me go!" he pleaded, trying to get away from him, trying to fight.
                              
"Beg, keep on begging. You know how much I like it when you beg," Rabastan growled, shoving him forward toward the head of the bed and, at the same time, stripping himself of his own clothes. "You're going to do a lot more."
                              
Draco managed to pull away from him, when he paused to remove his pants. But he forgot about Fenrir who grabbed his arm. But it wasn't Fenrir... he realized, slipping back to the present as the masked figures took both of his arms. Fuck. Thank Salazar, he was back. Please don't slip back, again, he pleaded with his mind. However, the present situation wasn't much better as they spread his arms out and Draco felt the knife blade on his neck. He stopped struggling and tried to move away from it.
                              
"You deserve to die, Death Eater. All's it takes is a nick with this and the world would be rid of you," said the one with the red stripe.
                              
"Kill him! That'll show Zabini!" hissed another, even with the Voice-Changing Potion, Draco could hear it was a girl. Tracey, probably.
                              
"But... what fun would that be? Our torment was months, years long... and so shall yours. You'll never find us all, Death Eater. You won't know who we are... when we will attack, again. We will haunt you until you die... scum!"
                              
Please, someone come. Let anyone come, Draco thought, desperately. He didn't know what they had planned, but he was more afraid of slipping further into the pit.
                              
"Your friends aren't coming. Zach wanted no part of being here. That fag's curse broke his spirit, I think. But he's being a wonderful distraction."
                              
Draco winced at the word and wanted to defend Blaise, but now was not the place. He swallowed and asked, "What do you want?"
                              
"Want? We want our blood-kin and friends back. Can you give them back, Death Eater?"
                              
Draco didn't answer. There was no reasoning with vigilantes. 
                              
"But I'll settle with hurting and humiliating you, like your pureblood friends did to us!"
                              
The knife came off his neck and Draco felt them pulling up on his robes and shirt. The knife cut through the fabric and cool night air hit to his body, making him shiver. He shivered from being exposed as his shirt and robes were cut away. They weren't done yet. 
                              
"Nice scars... are you trying to garner sympathy from us? It won't work. You deserved them all of them!" the masked leader laughed. 
                              
Draco felt a hand on his bare skin, and he pushed down and the other kids pulled his arms further outward, spread-eagling him. Draco jolted as the scenery changed, again. Fenrir pulled him closer to the frame, dragging him forward. He still tried to pull back, but the strength of the large werewolf was not something he could overpower. 
                              
"No..." Draco moaned. "Please... don't do this!"
                              
"Oh, we are going to hurt you, bitch. You owe me some screams!" Fenrir growled as his hand reached the cold, steel bed frame.
                              
Rope straps were already there, and Draco did not like that at all. The blood-and-piss-stained mattress and the straps... the wolf used this place for more than shifting and hiding. Greyback didn't bother with Incarcerous. He was a wizard, but wasn't properly trained like most werewolves. He did it the muggle way, which was just as terrifying when as Greyback pulled his hand through. Draco could do nothing as it tightened around his slender wrist. He managed to yank the other free, but Rasbastan came up from behind his back and grabbed his arm. Draco felt his hard prick jutting into him as he reached over. He barely noticed that the strap tightened against the skin of his other hand. He was trapped. Sobbing gasps came out of his mouth as the panic took over.