Introduction

Drip

Drip

Drip

Whoomph

A rush of blood to her head caused her to stagger as she got to her feet. The grating in the lock indicated the arrival of a soldier, who waited impatiently, motioning out the door and towards the corridor. She desperately wanted to sit, to curl into a ball and succumb to the darkness threatening to engulf her vision, but she was better than that. She held her chin high, or as high as she could without agony wrenching at her eardrums, and marched from the cell and into the bleak grey corridor beyond. All was silence and the suffocating stench of death and helplessness pressed upon her from all sides. The steady march of footsteps upon concrete served only to increase the tension in the tiny cell block. Ahead was a wide metal door, guarded by two men wearing gas masks and wielding canisters of tear gas. They watched her impassively as she stepped towards the door, waiting as it swung open before stepping inside. Ahead, a small pine desk sat in the middle of an empty room, the only person inside and elderly man of immense proportions who leered with interest as she stepped delicately towards him.

"Well well, a pleasant surprise indeed!' he exclaimed, mockingly indicating a pinewood chair opposite his position behind the desk, 'I know I sent men to retrieve one of you, but I didn't expect to see another follow'. She remained silent, watching him from behind a poker face and silently condemning his words. He sighed, 'Alright, so that's not entirely true. I knew that if I took your brother you would follow, it was only a matter of time. But really, what do they expect? They will insist upon bonding you so closely'. She eyed him speculatively, sensing rather than seeing the guard stationed behind her chair. The man continued 'I want you to be a good girl and tell me where the last safe house is. Really, there's no point hiding it. The remaining agents are renegades, we'll find them eventually. If you speak now, I could arrange for you and your brother to be spared their fate'. There was utter silence in the empty room. She felt sweat trickle down her neck and moved to wipe it away. The soldier behind her chair tensed his knees and she knew her moment had come. In an instant, the chair had been rammed into his knees, knocking him to the floor. She flipped over his prostrate body, seizing his stiletto and slicing into his throat with one swift movement before vaulting over the desk and pressing the blade's wickedly sharp tip against the other man's throat. He did not scream or shout for help, merely smiled in a tauntingly kind way as she pressed the blade a little deeper. 'I shouldn't do that if I were you' he observed. She merely pressed the blade against his throat until a drop of ruby bright blood trickled into the crisp white collar of his shirt. 'If you would care to look out that window', he continued, indicating a small square of glass in the wall to his left, you may observe something which will interest you'. She moved to the window, never removing her eyes from him, and glanced out. Her heart slowed in it's beating and her eyes widened. For the first time since leaving her cell, she uttered a sound. A sigh of defeat.

A young man stood before a row of soldiers, all armed with automatic rifles, all gazing down their lengths towards the heart of their prisoner. He stood utterly still, watching them with the same fearless intensity with which she had observed the man behind the desk. She moved away from the window and resumed her place in the pinewood chair, neatly crossing her legs. 'What do you want to know?' she asked, in a voice made soft and hesitant by years of silence.

The man smiled.

Please feel free to comment whether you like, hate or are somewhere in between. This is just the intro and I know it's a bit ambiguous, however, a full story will follow with an explanation of the situation.