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There was no let-up, no reprieve, no escape from the savage blows which rained down on her.

Disoriented, desperate, Helen writhed in the dirt, twisting and turning to try and avoid the relentless assault, but each time the chain seemed to evade her defences.

A wicked blow to the small of her back made her buck, rearing up in pain, opening up new angles of attack.

The wicked chain now slammed into the side of her head, causing Helen to cry out.

Breathless, reeling, she scuttled backwards, her hand held up in a futile attempt to defend herself.

But in the confusion, she had lost her bearings, jarring her shoulder harshly now as she collided with the unyielding bulk of the metal incinerator.

‘There’s nowhere to run, Helen,’ her assailant crowed, whirling the chain viciously. ‘Nowhere to go. This is it for you …’

‘Go to Hell,’ Helen fired back, spitting blood onto the floor, even as she tried to raise herself once more.

‘Oh, it’s not me that’ll be going to Hell …’ her attacker laughed, delivering another savage blow.

Helen slumped to the ground, the world seeming to spin round her now.

All thoughts of rescue, of victory, were fast ebbing away as she realized now that she stood on the brink of disaster.

Viyan was probably already dead and she would shortly follow her, her defences shattered, her resistance broken.

The only question was how long Leyla would make her suffer first.

‘You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in, Helen. I did try to warn you …’

Once more the chain descended, slamming into Helen’s stomach, punching the breath from her.

‘But you wouldn’t be told …’

The chain landed again, ripping into Helen’s cheek, shredding skin and muscle. Howling, Helen turned away, but only succeeded in pressing her other cheek into the burning metal behind her, causing her to cry out in pain.

Cackling, her tormentor swung the chain high over her head, spinning it faster and faster, intent on inflicting maximum damage.

A couple more blows and it would surely be over, her victory complete.

Desperately, Helen threw up a hand as the chain descended, the weapon connecting sharply with her palm, before wrapping itself around her traumatized knuckles.

Despite the pain that ripped up her arm, Helen felt a momentary spasm of relief.

The longer the chain was caught around her fingers, the longer she’d be spared from further attack.

Instinctively, she clenched her fist, holding on fast to the chain.

‘Get your dirty fingers off that,’ her attacker roared, prompting Helen to tighten her grip.

Leyla tugged violently at the chain, but Helen refused to budge, pulling back with equal force.

In her heart she knew that if she let go of the chain again, it would all be over.

She had to hang on at all costs. Her assailant seemed to sense this, pulling on the metal links with all her might, wrenching Helen’s arm upwards sharply.

Helen felt something pop in her shoulder and cried out once more, but the chain remained locked firmly in her fist. Summoning all her energy, she yanked it towards her, unbalancing her attacker, and another sharp tug saw Leyla tumbling forwards, crashing down onto her victim.

Helen’s tormentor was not done yet, however, grabbing the trailing tail of the chain with both hands and pressing it firmly against her bruised throat.

Surprised, Helen gasped and choked, what little breath she had left now squeezed from her.

An intolerable pressure on her throat was now matched by a burning sensation on the back of her head.

Assaulted on all sides, Helen felt the fight going out of her, as an enraged Leyla pressed down ever harder.

‘I said you were going to Hell …’ she hissed, her eyes glinting wickedly.

She leaned into Helen as she spoke, her eyes riven with violence.

She was on the cusp of victory, of squeezing the life out of her adversary, and was clearly enjoying it.

Helen could smell burning now, her skin singed and cracked, even as she felt her windpipe protest under the intolerable pressure.

Desperately, she tugged at the chain, but could get no purchase, the links biting into her skin.

Panicked, she flailed wildly, her damaged fingers connecting harmlessly with her attacker’s face, then her long, black hair.

In a last, desperate act of defiance now, Helen wrapped her fingers round one of Leyla’s tresses, yanking it towards her.

Enraged, in pain, her assailant tried to tug herself free, but Helen pulled harder, moving her attacker’s face ever closer to the wall of the incinerator.

At first, Leyla seemed confused, then realizing what Helen intended, tried desperately to pull away.

But the momentum was with Helen now, pressing her attacker’s exposed cheek against the burning hot metal.

Immediately, she felt the chain go slack, but still Helen didn’t relent, pressing her attacker’s face harder still into the searing flank of the incinerator.

Leyla was howling now, the skin seared from her cheek, but Helen kept up the pressure for five seconds, ten seconds, twenty seconds before suddenly releasing her grip.

The traumatized trafficker peeled away, staggering backwards, her hand clamped to her melting face, Helen clambering to her feet and sweeping out her assailant’s legs with one graceful kick.

Surprised, Leyla crashed to the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt.

Helen was quickly upon her, snatching up the discarded chain and delivering one, two, three savage blows.

Her blood was up, all the agony and anguish of the past few days pouring out of her as she rained down blow after blow.

As she raised the chain once more, however, her eyes fell on the woman’s blistered cheek, and instantly all thoughts of revenge evaporated, Helen dropping the chain like a hot coal.

Turning, she raced back to the incinerator, and hauling the heavy lock lever up, threw open the door.

Instantly a wave of heat erupted out of its gaping jaws, sending Helen staggering backwards as she tried to penetrate the gloom within. Was it all over? Had all this been for nothing?

Was she too late?