Thanks so much for all the follows, faves and reviews! Kind of a short chapter because I wanted to cut it off.
"Isabelle!"
Arthur had struggled out of the ropes that bound his wrists together and ran out onto the stage, with no plan in mind. It was his sister, his family and perhaps the last person that he loved that he would ever see again. It didn't matter what consequences he would face later.
As soon as he appeared on stage, the audience immediately gasped and shouted at him while the people backstage yelled at each other and had a minute of disorganization before they charged out onto stage. Many of the people who rushed at him were unarmed and weak, so Arthur dodged their punches and kicks easily, while countering many of them. His old fighting skills learned in the grungy towns surrounding his home finally were useful.
Isabelle looked up when Arthur approached her, her green eyes fearful yet hopeful at the same time. "A-Artie! What are you doing?"
Arthur ran up to her and embraced her quickly. "Isabelle. Oh my god, we have to escape. We have to leave!"
"Artie, what have you done? You're going to get killed! Run, just leave me!" She shouted hysterically. "You're going to- Look out!"
The authorities who were actually trained in combat caught up to Arthur and pulled him away, holding his arms painfully behind him. Someone grabbed his hair and tilted his head back. He heard Isabelle scream. A gun was held to his forehead as he was forced to the side of the stage.
He was going to die.
Arthur scanned the audience desperately. There had to be someone out there with a good heart, willing to protest and save him from this imminent death. He met the fiery blue eyes of a young man with golden hair who then shouted something completely unbelievable.
XXX
Alfred heard the desperate cry for Isabelle, whom he guessed was the redhead slave onstage, and then a skinny young man with sandy hair run on stage. A group of angry authorities closely followed him, while the audience around him screamed and gasped in shock. A mad and violent mob gathered at the base of the stage and grabbed at the slave's feet. There were even a few who pulled out bejeweled knifes out of their blazers and jackets and tried to swipe at him.
Alfred was surprised just like everyone else but in a good way. He was glad that there was someone with enough guts to run out and rebel against his captors like that. The slave hugged the girl and said something to her before she yelled a warning and the men descended onto him.
The slave easily deflected all their attacks but one eventually grabbed him, pinned his arms behind his back and pulled his head back.
Then a gun was put to his head.
"That son-of-a-bitch, rebelling and ruining this for us. He should be killed. No one would want him as a slave after this anyway," Mr. Jones said quietly to Alfred. He had been sitting there calmly the whole time, watching like it was a mildly interesting television show.
Alfred listened with outrage. How could his father think that lives could be thrown away so easily? Especially when it was an innocent person, fighting for his and his loved one's freedom?
He looked back up at the stage. The young man was looking around at the audience when he suddenly met Alfred's eyes. His eyes were bright green, glowing with a rebellious flame but still hiding a sliver of fear and desperation. They were scarred, yet powerful and hopeful, strong yet weak with the fear of death.
Alfred loved those eyes.
He grabbed the auction card from his father's hand when he wasn't paying attention and stood up.
"Alfred! What are you doing?" his father hissed. "Don't get involved. Sit back down!"
He ignored his father's commands. Alfred stuck his hand up, holding the number in his fist, a determined expression on his face. He hated this. But this was the only way to save him.
"$15,000! $15,000 for the man on stage!"
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