Cora's entire body was shaking as she was bound to a simply made wooden
chair. The gun was still trained on her, and Cora found herself not able to
take her eyes off of it. Her life, her dreams could be gone in one simple
movement from Angry. She shuddered.
Attempts to keep her face calm and uncaring were failing miserably. She was chewing on her bottom lips and her eyes were wide and full of terror. Her braid had come undone and her long hair was tangled all the way down to her waist. She also kept on shifting on the chair, and her mind was racing. She was going to die. Amelia would be heart broken. Mother would be inconsolable. Father would mourn so pompously.
Scrawny seemed genuinely concerned over Cora's fear.
"She's just a kid, James!."
"Am I supposed to care?" Angry scowled. "She was sent by Copley to kill us both, I'm sure of it."
"Let's at least talk to her first, OK?" Scrawny said. Angry grunted his approval.
"Let's get this little interrogation underway." Angry said sarcastically. "I'm James Strider. This is my brother, Rick. Do you recognize those names?"
"Yes." Cora squeaked.
"Oh, really?" a sadistic grin spread on Angry's face. "And where do you recognize our names from?"
Cora bit her bottom lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, but she said nothing.
"Look, Miss..." Scrawny trailed off and looked at Cora expectantly as if he expected her to provide her with a last name. Cora shook her head vehemently. She didn't want to get Amelia and Mother hurt. Scrawny continued his sentence anyway. "Answer the question. Please. We know you're from Copley, so we just want details."
"My name is Cora." Cora muttered softly. "I work for Mr. Copley, but it's only to support my family! It is! I'm afraid that Amelia will end up like the kids on the street who peddle off fruit. I'm afraid that my mother will never work again. I'm afraid that my father will bring me away from my home and make me go to college." Cora blurted out.
"Copley sent you here to kill us, didn't he?" Angry said softly. Cora gave a miserable nod. The next thing she knew, her ears were ringing and she was on the floor. The chair had toppled over along with Cora due to the force of Angry punching Cora as hard as he could in the side of the head.
Cora was mildly aware of the blood spilling out of her mouth, but she was more concerned with the lump on her head.
"James!" snapped Scrawny.
"We'll just dump the body. She was going to kill us. We can leave her on Copley's doorstep."
"We're not killing her, James!" Scrawny said. Cora felt a lurching sensation as the chair was straightened. "You knocked her out."
"No, she's faking it." Angry insisted. Cora felt a slap, not as hard as the punch but still stinging, on the left side of her face. She opened her eyes. No use getting smacked around.
"Don't be so rough." Scrawny admonished. Angry ignored him.
"Good girl." he said softly. "Now. If I kill you, then my brother will be upset. So I'm not going to be the one to kill you."
"What the hell does that mean?" Cora asked woozily. Angry paused and glanced at Scrawny. Scrawny shrugged apathetically as if to say 'it's out of my hands.' Angry turned back to Cora, this time with a slight sadistic grin on his face.
"Watch your mouth, young lady."
"What do you mean?" Cora said, this time more clearly. Angry gave another sadistic grin.
"It means that you get to live a little longer." Angry finally said. Cora felt a glint of hope. If she was lucky, she might get to escape from this nightmare. What would she do when she got home? She had mentioned Amelia by name, so she would have to warn her family. Maybe America wouldn't be that bad, maybe Amelia and Cora and Mother would be happier there. After all, the way Father spoke about it, it was a paradise. And maybe working as an Extra (whatever that was) for Umbrella would be well paying.
"You won't kill me then." Cora said, relieved.
"You'll still die." Angry said. "Just not at my hands." he gave a sly look. Cora chose to ignore that, and she wriggled her wrists inside her ropes and whimpered. "Rick, go call the cops."
"The cops?!" Scrawny seemed shocked.
"Why not the cops? You know how they always fool around instead of actually doing their job. They'll be here in half an hour. Giving me plenty of time to question Little Miss Cora over here." he shot Cora a filty look.
"Can I ... Can I please have something to drink?" Cora said. Her mouth was cottony dry.
"Get her some juice, Rick." chuckled Angry. "She's no use to us if she can't even tell us anything."
"Look," Cora said. She pulled the sleeve of her sweater back to reveal the eight nicks. They were rather nasty looking against her tanned skin.
"What is that supposed to do, convince me that you're not from Copley?" Angry said dryly.
"Do you know what these are?" Cora asked harshly.
"No." Angry said.
"For every person I've killed, I've scratched these into my arm with my knife!" Cora said this furiously. "So don't you dare treat me like I'm some sort of heartless killer, because I'm not!" Cora sniffed back tears. Scrawny came back with apple juice.
"We should let her go." Scrawny said.
"No." Angry replied.
"Why not?" Scrwany seemed agitated as he handed the glass to Cora. Cora drank gratefully.
"You really want Copley to bring an experience assassin after us?" Angry rolled his eyes, then turned to Cora. "Now. Tell us all you know."
Attempts to keep her face calm and uncaring were failing miserably. She was chewing on her bottom lips and her eyes were wide and full of terror. Her braid had come undone and her long hair was tangled all the way down to her waist. She also kept on shifting on the chair, and her mind was racing. She was going to die. Amelia would be heart broken. Mother would be inconsolable. Father would mourn so pompously.
Scrawny seemed genuinely concerned over Cora's fear.
"She's just a kid, James!."
"Am I supposed to care?" Angry scowled. "She was sent by Copley to kill us both, I'm sure of it."
"Let's at least talk to her first, OK?" Scrawny said. Angry grunted his approval.
"Let's get this little interrogation underway." Angry said sarcastically. "I'm James Strider. This is my brother, Rick. Do you recognize those names?"
"Yes." Cora squeaked.
"Oh, really?" a sadistic grin spread on Angry's face. "And where do you recognize our names from?"
Cora bit her bottom lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, but she said nothing.
"Look, Miss..." Scrawny trailed off and looked at Cora expectantly as if he expected her to provide her with a last name. Cora shook her head vehemently. She didn't want to get Amelia and Mother hurt. Scrawny continued his sentence anyway. "Answer the question. Please. We know you're from Copley, so we just want details."
"My name is Cora." Cora muttered softly. "I work for Mr. Copley, but it's only to support my family! It is! I'm afraid that Amelia will end up like the kids on the street who peddle off fruit. I'm afraid that my mother will never work again. I'm afraid that my father will bring me away from my home and make me go to college." Cora blurted out.
"Copley sent you here to kill us, didn't he?" Angry said softly. Cora gave a miserable nod. The next thing she knew, her ears were ringing and she was on the floor. The chair had toppled over along with Cora due to the force of Angry punching Cora as hard as he could in the side of the head.
Cora was mildly aware of the blood spilling out of her mouth, but she was more concerned with the lump on her head.
"James!" snapped Scrawny.
"We'll just dump the body. She was going to kill us. We can leave her on Copley's doorstep."
"We're not killing her, James!" Scrawny said. Cora felt a lurching sensation as the chair was straightened. "You knocked her out."
"No, she's faking it." Angry insisted. Cora felt a slap, not as hard as the punch but still stinging, on the left side of her face. She opened her eyes. No use getting smacked around.
"Don't be so rough." Scrawny admonished. Angry ignored him.
"Good girl." he said softly. "Now. If I kill you, then my brother will be upset. So I'm not going to be the one to kill you."
"What the hell does that mean?" Cora asked woozily. Angry paused and glanced at Scrawny. Scrawny shrugged apathetically as if to say 'it's out of my hands.' Angry turned back to Cora, this time with a slight sadistic grin on his face.
"Watch your mouth, young lady."
"What do you mean?" Cora said, this time more clearly. Angry gave another sadistic grin.
"It means that you get to live a little longer." Angry finally said. Cora felt a glint of hope. If she was lucky, she might get to escape from this nightmare. What would she do when she got home? She had mentioned Amelia by name, so she would have to warn her family. Maybe America wouldn't be that bad, maybe Amelia and Cora and Mother would be happier there. After all, the way Father spoke about it, it was a paradise. And maybe working as an Extra (whatever that was) for Umbrella would be well paying.
"You won't kill me then." Cora said, relieved.
"You'll still die." Angry said. "Just not at my hands." he gave a sly look. Cora chose to ignore that, and she wriggled her wrists inside her ropes and whimpered. "Rick, go call the cops."
"The cops?!" Scrawny seemed shocked.
"Why not the cops? You know how they always fool around instead of actually doing their job. They'll be here in half an hour. Giving me plenty of time to question Little Miss Cora over here." he shot Cora a filty look.
"Can I ... Can I please have something to drink?" Cora said. Her mouth was cottony dry.
"Get her some juice, Rick." chuckled Angry. "She's no use to us if she can't even tell us anything."
"Look," Cora said. She pulled the sleeve of her sweater back to reveal the eight nicks. They were rather nasty looking against her tanned skin.
"What is that supposed to do, convince me that you're not from Copley?" Angry said dryly.
"Do you know what these are?" Cora asked harshly.
"No." Angry said.
"For every person I've killed, I've scratched these into my arm with my knife!" Cora said this furiously. "So don't you dare treat me like I'm some sort of heartless killer, because I'm not!" Cora sniffed back tears. Scrawny came back with apple juice.
"We should let her go." Scrawny said.
"No." Angry replied.
"Why not?" Scrwany seemed agitated as he handed the glass to Cora. Cora drank gratefully.
"You really want Copley to bring an experience assassin after us?" Angry rolled his eyes, then turned to Cora. "Now. Tell us all you know."
