A Tortured Soul
Pain slithered through her body like a sword cutting through her insides. Sniffing the air didn't help much either. The smells of burnt flesh stung her nose causing her to gag. Her stomach was winching in nausea.
In an attempt to move her body, she felt a painful spike in her spine but she also felt shingles of cold metal confined her to this nightmare. Wriggling her numb fingers and trying to move her legs, her whole being was ensnared on a bed of torture.
"What should we do with her," a raspy voice called out, "You want me to kill her?"
She couldn't see anyone but a couple of shadows. Her eyes were too dizzy. It formed a haze on her eyelids making her vision difficult to focus.
"Not yet," this voice had an eloquent, charming accent than the other, "I want her to witness my moment of triumph before I put a bullet in her head!"
The man was walking closer to her with a face of arrogance. His stride was as mischievous as he placed his fingers on her chin roughly tilting her head. She could see his blonde, shoulder length hair dance in the darkness. His dark blue eyes were dreary as a storm. In her dizzy haze, she could make out wickedness creeping in the man's lips.
"It's a pity," the man said in a heavy sigh, "If you could see look past your petty ideals, you could see what I'm trying to accomplish here. What we are striving for!"
"I don't see anything but a madman with a big ego," she choked. Her throat was dry and sore.
A huge blow to her stomach made her cough up blood as she grunted in agony.
Still having his fist lunged in her stomach, he lend his head forward, "I know who you are! After I'm done here, I'll make sure to make your precious life a living…"
Suddenly, a phone rung inside the man's dark trench coat. Walking away from the bloody heap, he brought out a polished black cell phone. He flipped the cover of the black with silver lining phone as he placed it against his ear huffing.
"Yes," The man seemed irritated. Silence filled the room as the man was listening to the other line. He shook his head slowly.
"Really? Right on schedule," the man voice changed in tone, "Raven, make sure Octopus is ready. Have two enemy patrols ready the Hind D and have the other two wait for me in the underground elevator. "
"Sir," the lone figure interrupted.
"A submarine in the Bering Sea has been identified. He's on that submarine. I can feel it, Ocelot," the man flipped the cover of his cell phone and placed it back in his pocket.
"How do you know that," Ocelot scratched his head.
The man chuckled, "It's quite simple. The commander of the operation will be forced to bring his friend into this mess. He really doesn't have a choice in the matter, since we have his niece in our wonderful care."
Her dizziness was wearing off as she saw the gray-haired man paced towards the console next to her.
"Where shall we put her," Ocelot was pushing buttons on the silver console.
A humming noise vibrated her eardrums as she felt her whole body facing up on the bright ceiling. Five bright, light bulbs blinded her. She blinked to adjust to the light that worsened her thumping pain in her skull. A sound of a pop filled the room. Footsteps pounded on the floor and a grunt of confusion entered the room.
"What are you doing, Liquid?"
Liquid came into her view as he lifted up a shot. He pushed out the air in the tube as a liquid substance seeped from the sharp needle. Putting his left hand over her mouth, he stabbed the shot in her neck chuckling. It pinched her neck as a liquid of fire burned into her bloodstream. Her muffled screams of agony seized her body uncontrollably. After a few seconds, the woman calmed down as her eyes closed gradually.
"Hurts, doesn't it?"