8. Cold Blooded Woman
Even as the morning sun shone down on the house it still looked depressing. Perhaps it was the building's location that created the undesirable aura. The thick, black smoke arising from one of the nearby factories did not help the cause.
Anna stood in front of the house, her green eyes fixated on the crooked door. It had been several years since she had visited the location and nothing much had changed. There was still a crack in the downstairs window, the red painted had faded and almost and almost entirely chipped off the front door and the slates on the roof were still coming off.
'Bet the leak's gotten worse,' Anna thought to herself while inspecting the building.
The plan was relatively simple. Enter the house, collect some belongings and leave. Anna thought back to the last 'simple' plan she had partaken in, trying to kill Reaver. A frown graced her youthful face as the memories of the past couple of days came flooding back. Maybe plans were not always as simple as they first seemed, Anna thought. But entering her childhood home to grab some belongings was bound to be easier than breaking into Reaver's house and attempting to kill him.
She began to walk, her eyes still fixated on the front door of the property. The memory of her being roughly thrown out of that very door was playing at the forefront of her mind. It had been many years since that dreadful night, yet the memory still managed to haunt her, even now.
Beside the door was a rusted metal bucket. It had been there when Anna lived there and if she was lucky, the spare key would still be hidden underneath. She carefully moved the bucket aside with her booted foot and looked down to see a dull metal key staring back up at her. Anna bent down to pick it up, brushing off the dirt that covered it before using it to unlock the front door.
The door opened with a loud creak and Anna stepped into the house. Nothing had changed on the inside either. Every bit of furniture, whether broken or not, still resided in the house.
"Hello?" Anna called, but she did not expect a response. Both her mum and stepfather should have been at work by now. Last Anna heard they had job in one of Reaver's big factories. Anna used the word 'job' very loosely in this situation as working for Reaver was more like being employed as a slave.
When she heard no reply from her call, she considered it safe to retrieve her belongings. Up the stairs Anna went, towards her old bedroom. The room was extremely small and as Anna entered it, memories from her childhood came flooding back. It wasn't the happiest time to say the least. Anna pushed the memories back to the back of her mind. There was no point in dwelling on the past now.
She needed to focus on the present, which currently involved her stuffing clothes in an old bag. Anna was very aware that clothes wouldn't get her very far in the grand scheme of things. So she planned on pick pocketing a few drunkards later that day. That way she would be able to rent a room from the tavern for the night.
Before long she had filled her bag and was making her way down the stairs. As she did, she heard the unmistakable creak of the front door.
"Fuck," Anna muttered to herself as she watched her stepfather, William, enter the building.
Before she had chance to flee back up the stairs, the man's eyes locked onto her.
"Andrea?" he said, his voice rough and croaky due to decades of smoking and excessive drinking.
"Hi… I thought you'd be at work…" her voice trailed off.
William proceeded to enter the house, making his way to where Anna stood at the bottom of the stairs.
"They won't notice if I slip out for a couple of hours," he told her. He was no different, still the same lazy drunk Anna had always despised.
"Don't think Reaver would be very happy if he found out."
She instantly regretted her comment, speaking of the businessman like they were friends. When in reality they'd slept together, and it was unlikely that she'd ever see him again. In all honestly, she felt no different to a common whore in that situation.
"You gonna tell him? Let me know how that goes," he laughed cruelly. Anna felt her cheeks flush a light pink with embarrassment.
"Well uh… no," she said quietly, attempting to make her exit but the large man quickly blocked her path.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked her, his dull grey eyes staring down at the young girl in front of him. As he spoke, Anna could smell the unforgettable stench of cheap beer on his breath.
"Yes," she said plainly, "and you can get back to day drinking and avoiding being a decent man."
Another attempt was made by the ex-rebel to exit the building, but William stepped in front of her again.
"And what will you be doing? Jumping into bed with the first man who offers you a gold piece? You were always a disappointment to your mother and me."
Anna rolled her eyes. She had heard it all before. William's insults were always played on a broken record player. The same old insults that she had been bombarded with throughout her childhood and teenage years.
"Better to be a disappointment than an abusive piece of shit," she spat back at the man. The uncontrollable rage quickly building within the young girl.
"What did you say to me?" Anna's stepfather shouted at her.
He took a step towards her, instantly causing Anna to take a step backwards towards the wall. William had always used his size to intimidate and overpower those who dared to confront him. And it worked. As he continued to step towards his stepdaughter, she was forced to retreat backward until she felt the presence of the fireplace against her back. Once again, she was at the mercy of the man in control.
She had spent the past couple of days being controlled by Reaver and in this moment she wished it was Reaver stood in front of her. At least with Reaver she had a chance to talk her way out of the confrontation. William, however, was a drunkard so easily blinded by rage. There was no talking him out of what he was about to do.
Just like she'd experienced thousands of times before, Anna was met with the full force of William's rage. She saw his fist coming but before she had a chance to dodge, it collided with the side of her head. The next few seconds seemed to play in slow motion. The force of the punch caused Anna to be thrown violently to the floor. She inhaled sharply as she landed on the wooden floor. The pain from the punch caused tears to form in her emerald eyes. But through the tears the ex-rebel could make out the brass fire poker that stood beside the fireplace.
Despite the fact the room was currently spinning, Anna reached out and grabbed hold of the metal object. Luck was definitely not something she got much of in life but as she swung the metal fire poker, luck was certainly on her side.
There was a loud thud and a splatter of blood before the large man fell to the ground.
"Oh my god," Anna muttered horrified by her own actions. She slowly rose to her feet, wobbling as she did so. Once she'd made her way to her feet, she gripped hold of the mantelpiece for support. Her eyes stayed fixated on the dead man on the floor. A sickness began to grow in her stomach as she stared at him. What had she done? She'd never killed anyone before. She wasn't a killer. She wasn't a monster.
"What the fuck am I going to do?" she asked herself.
Despite her dazed state, she knew she couldn't just leave William's body to be discovered. Moving it was the only option, but Anna definitely wasn't physically fit enough to partake in such an activity. She required assistance. A sigh escaped the ex-rebel's lips. Today really wasn't her day.
Using the wall to guide her, she managed to exit her former home, slowly making her way down the street. Her mind solely focussing on getting aid.
Fortunately for Anna, the streets of Bowerstone Industrial were still fairly quiet. A majority of its residents were slaving away in nearby factories.
She stumbled through the empty streets, trying to think of where she could find some help. Usually, she would seek out help from her friends in the Bowerstone Resistance. But after she was rudely thrown out of the group, it seemed very unlikely any of them would offer her any aid.
As she continued to stagger through the Industrial Quarter, deep in her jumbled thoughts, she suddenly collided with someone. The force of the collision caused Anna to stumble backwards a few steps but her reflexes caused her to grab hold of the man's coat. Stopping herself from falling onto the dirty floor. Dazed and confused, she looked up to see the one person she never wanted to run into again.
"Anna… what happened to you?" Reaver sounded almost concerned. Well, at least he sounded concerned to the disorientated Anna. Who knows whether he really did.
"I'm fine, this isn't my blood. I need help… I killed someone and I need help."
Whether begging for Reaver's help was the best idea, Anna didn't quite know, but it did look like her only option.
"You need my help?" he looked down at the poor girl who clutched onto him so tightly. He could see she'd been hit on the side of the head and although she refused to believe it, it was her blood dripping down the side of her head.
"Yes… please. My house is… er… this way," she pointed behind her. Reaver let out a sigh. Helping someone was definitely not what he'd planned to do today (or ever to be quite frank) but perhaps he could find a way to make this benefit him.
"Fine, my dear. But answer this first. Why can't one of your little rebel friends assist you?"
"They kicked me out," Anna frowned before continuing, "Now come."
She took hold of Reaver's gloved hand and began walking back towards her house.
"You've gotten me all curious, my lovely. Why are you now unwanted in your little rebel group?" Reaver quizzed her some more.
"Because Page is a paranoid bitch," Anna replied. This comment only sparked Reaver's curiosity more. Perhaps he was right to help the ex-rebel. She would have useful information, he was certain of that, and she was now more than likely ready to tell all.
Before Reaver had the chance to interrogate the ex-rebel some more he was forced to enter Anna's family home. 'Home' was the word Anna had used to describe the building but as Reaver looked around, the term 'shack' seemed more appropriate.
"So…" Reaver's voice trailed off as both he and Anna looked around. Upon the floor, lay the blood covered firepoker but the now empty space beside it caused Anna's eyes to widen in shock.
"He was just there. I hit him and he died right there," she pointed to the empty spot on the floor.
"May I make the suggestion that he wasn't in fact dead?"
As Reaver spoke, the pair heard a noise come from the staircase. William looked just as beaten and bruised as Anna did.
"Come to finish me off?" William asked, his aggressive tone clear to both Anna and Reaver, "Couldn't even finish me off yourself. You've always been weak."
The large man made his way down the stairs, his fists clenched and murder on his mind. But instead of closing the gap between himself and his stepdaughter, he simply stopped.
Just like before, time seemed to move in slow motion. William's attention was diverted to the white, porcelain jug on the shelf. Anna had found the decorate item for sale in a small shop in Bowerstone Market many years ago. She had purchased it as a gift for her mother's birthday. Although it meant very little to her at the time, it now symbolised the once loving relationship Anna had with her mother.
As the memories replayed in Anna's mind, William lifted the jug from its home on the shelf and hurled it in Anna's direction. Though Anna saw the jug flying through the air, her entire body froze still. All she could manage to do was close her eyes tightly and brace for the impact.
Instead of the jug hitting her, it was the floor that she hit. A loud crash was heard behind her as the jug shattered into pieces. Quickly realising that Reaver had pushed her out of the way, Anna was relieved but equally greatly surprised.
"Now my dear lad, what are we all doing here? Shouldn't you be working?" Reaver asked William, seemingly unphased by the entire situation.
"Fuck you," William spat, his tone even more aggressive sounding than it had before. But as Anna sat upon the wooden floor, her head spinning and pounding from the punch she'd endured earlier, even she knew that this wasn't going to end well for William. Reaver was the one man every wise person in Albion knew to avoid, never mind antagonise. Clearly William did not get this memo.
"Wrong answer," Reaver said plainly before retrieving his pistol from its holster and firing one single shot. The bang of the gun echoed through the house as the bullet hit William straight between the eyes. An absolutely perfect shot. Anna sat still for a moment, completely in shock by the scene that just unfolded. After an entire lifetime of torment and abuse, William was gone, and she had Reaver to thank of all people.
Slowly, Anna returned to her feet, her head still spinning.
"Reaver…" the ex-rebel turned to look at her unlikely hero, but couldn't manage to focus her eyesight on him, "I don't feel very good," she suddenly blurted out before the world went black for her.
Luckily for Anna, Reaver's reflexes were fast and he caught the falling girl effortlessly in his arms.
"Now what am I going to do with you?" he asked him, looking down at the unconscious girl he held.
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