Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshtsuji
My head hung, bangs framing my face, breathing labored, as I took in my surroundings. Abandoned hideout in the middle of a forest in a cage, blood littering the rusty cage floor, hands shackled, connected to chains woven tightly between metal bars, not bad. At least they were courteous enough to keep me imprisoned in a wastefully spacious room. Or so I thought.
With the beating I received, I didn't have much to do but consider my next move. Freedom. The only thing I yearned for and nothing more. Nothing will stand in the way of getting what I want, especially freedom. They'll just have to learn to suck it up and deal with me, I thought wryly. Nothing wrong with letting your mind wander, I daydreamed of life in The Dark Side, leading me to my next thought. If the Blooders are this close, we'll have to evacuate the premises or deal with them head on.
"Not bad," I mutter to myself once again, -sighing- deep in thought.
The door of the entrance to my imprisonment swung open with a clang!"Oh, really?" Alice smirked.
I just smile calmly at her and retort, "Nah. It's just saddening, really. The room nor my prison doesn't really look like it could live up to a Blooder's expectations, much rather a prisoner's, or Shadower's, such as myself, to be specific." I snickered as she glowered with a sneer. "Aww. Struck a nerve? Very embarrassing to a person of your position such as yourself!" I reprimanded mockingly, cooing.
Alice, I calculated, as a leader to the Blooders, such as myself but to the Dark Side, was one to be reckoned with seriously. Aside from the thought of her being a blonde, she differed from others and took insults very seriously. I would be foolish to further arouse her temper as to of seeing that I have trespassed into Blooder territory. To be frank, Blooders and Dark Siders, or also known as Shadowers, rival amongst each other, therefore creating chaotic problems. However, I don't need to be taught what I already know.
Two more Blooders entered the "crime scene" and surrounded either side of her black and hot pink outfitted figure. Bodyguards, most likely, although that would be unnecessary. The first figure a rather stout-looking man; well-toned, good body figure, but compared to the second Blooder, he appeared as a fragile twig. The second man literally looked like a wall of muscles - they bulged from his short-sleeved shirt! He's definitely not one to joke around with. Along with his features, graced with him, the coldest blue eyes I have ever seen – aside from Alice's. And in his hands, a short scrawny boy with an eye-patch immediately giving him the right to a pirate-like intimidating appearance. The only thing we shared in common happened to be our pale complexion and black hair, but his eyes gave off a dark blue hue whereas mine, a dark, dark brown – dark chocolate some preferred – or black.
Interesting, I thought. Must be one of her poorly planned schemes of trying – no, correction – making me talk. Ignorant fools, I chortled, offended. You should know that I know better than that. However, the words that left her lips caught me off-guard.
"I know that you're smarter as to what your position suggests, so instead, I offer a mere challenge." Making sure I kept my attention trained on her, she grabbed the boyo from his captor by his scruff, or otherwise collar, dragged him to the cell, unlocked the entrance, and tossed him in with a thud, vibrations resonating throughout the dead silence of the room. "If you can escape with the boy unharmed, then freedom is yours to take. However, fail to meet my expectations –" Bang! Slamming the cell door for emphasis, she backed away, blending into the darkness, resuming her interrupted threat, a finger dragging across her throat, "Or else you or the boy's head hangs on my wall, or possibly both? Guess, we'll wait and see what fate has to offer." With that, her voice faded, along with her footsteps, into the darkness, the two Blooders by her side, faithful as ever.
"Well, that went well," I grimaced.
After Alice and her minions had left, I glanced at the boyo and caught him inspecting – felt more like scrutinizing – me, so I stared back until he asked, well more like demanded, "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
Despite his dressing up as a commoner, I sensed some kind of authority laced within his tone. Almost like talking to a noble! Interested yet irate, I smirked and replied, "Why you askin' me? You brought it upon yourself to get kidnapped!" An accusation as a comeback. Hmm…
"I was merely enjoying a walk with my butler." Challenge evident in his witty reply, I simply arched an eyebrow.
"Hmph! Uh-huh, and now you know better than just "enjoying a walk with your butler" in the middle of the night." Under my breath, I scoffed to myself, "Some butler he is." The boyo just raised an eyebrow at my silly antics while I finally decided to get this done and over with. "Whatever. I might as well just bust ya outta here as to of seeing this conversation is leading will take us nowhere." Hissing at the pain and focusing on my task, I proceeded with squeezing my hands from the handcuffs, my fingerless gloves somewhat reducing the pain, but, nonetheless, my wrists bloodied and stinging. The boyo, alarmed and confused, observed me with shell-shocked eyes as I stalked over to him.
"Were you not in chains a moment ago?"
"Do you wanna get out of here, or not?"
Said boyo remained quiet as I fished out my obsidian blade daggers from my jacket and unlocked the shackles restraining him. As soon as I completed my miniscule task, I worked on the cell door and unfastened the lock within five minutes, give or take. Unlatching the offending object, I stepped out and tossed it away from me, never to be acknowledged by me again. I silently monitored him as he examined his surroundings before focusing on the objective once more. Escorting him to the grand entrance of our prison, I silently wondered to myself why the door would be left unlocked. Obviously, there's bound to be a snare beyond this door. Dragging the boyo close, his back to my front, I pushed the door open and hid by the wall adjacent to the entrance, and as it swung open, a symphony of bullets whizzed by, targeted to where the said boyo previously stood.
A couple of "Oy! Where'd the rascal run off to?" chorused until they were disrupted by the abrupt, short, sharpness of the shots of my gun I concealed, estimated targets somewhat accurate. Blood decorated the rocky corridor wall and floor as we hurried by them, corpses marking the direction of our trail. Remembering the precise passageway, we rushed our way out of the maze of twists and turns. Just before we could claim our freedom, a man creeped by the hall left of us. Pushing the boyo behind me, I raised my finger to my lips and listened intently for any slip-ups. He approached so slowly, so steadily, that the boyo – even I – doubted his presence. Just at the last minute, I cocked my gun and pulled on the trigger before the boyo shouted.