ALIA POV

Alia couldn't believe she ended up being held captive, forced to kneel on the floor with rusty chains all around her wrists - loud, heavy, and cold like death. After more than a decade spent in fighting for her freedom - hers, and the ladies' in the Underground. She was an assassin, yes. But each of her kills were serving a noble cause.

Most importantly - she refused to even think about what would happen to her girls if she stayed in jail. She was their leader. Their hope. Their strength. She could not leave them alone. As skilled they were, and as strong they each presented themselves, they needed unity. They needed a "mom", a protector. Alia had founded the Dark Roses. She was not just a leader - she was a symbol. An example of hope in a world where only darkness arises.

You see, most young women in the Underground end up being sold, or captured, to serve as a prostitute. People may talk about Titans all they want - but inside the walls, in the Underground, girls often had a fate far worse than death.

A fate she miraculously escaped.

When her loving father died, she was only 13. She was lucky enough to have had a protective father over her, teaching her how to fight, making her safe from harm, heroically, in this world gone mad. But she also happened to be unlucky enough to have been given for care to her uncle, who sold her for a good price, leaving her at the hands of a whore house managed by a syndicate of powerful criminals.

She refused to yield. And the rest, as they say, is history.

She refused to yield then, and she will refuse to yield, now. Time to stop crying over herself. She needed to escape. Especially before the interrogations with some higher-rank folks start: as she will refuse to speak and comply, she may lose a few limbs -she was prepared to- and she would then be too weak to attempt any escape.

She needed to act now.

Alia looked around. An empty room, dripping wet, with both old and fresh blood all over the walls and floor. The ceiling was low, the light, horribly orange. She remembered the way to here - she was transferred from her cell, to the Interrogation room. Which could work at her advantage: it was on the last floor, and there were also less guards, who weren't as paranoid as the ones around the cells. There, captives could perceive more, and had a direct touch to the outside through the rusty bars.

She just needed to get out of the room. Once out, she was skilled enough to slide through the thin gated window, climb to the roof, and from there would ensue the usual sort of chase she was used to take part of in the Underground.

The only difference is, she would do that... while her arms were still chained behind her back.

Which may sound absurd, but compared to all of the impossible, suicidal missions she led in the Underground - that was nothing. She could do it.

Under her sleeves, some poison sticks she always kept. All that was needed for her was to blow one of them under the door, onto the heels of a guard. Enough to make the other guard realise their colleague just fell. And stir panic.

They would have to get her, in case she may have more tricks in stock and hurt more of them.

Like a surreal dream, she executed on that plan to perfection.

"aarrgh" - The first guard fell to the ground. "What... Alex! Help! HELP! Need a med! Aaahh, the bitch!"

Alia swiftly stood up and closed her eyes. She heard footsteps. She tried to count the men. Only two, for now. Good. Without making a noise, she took a deep breath, and -BAM- the door slammed open - she violently turned around, raising her arms in a painful throw which hit the two guard's chins backward. Without even noticing the blood ejected all around the corridor, Alia jumped outside of the room and slid on that fresh blood, which gave her momentum before throwing herself through the gated window, in the specific angle she had calculated from the moment she was brought in here.

Legs in the free air, Alia turned around her body like an agile acrobat, hit the very narrow window sill and aimed up and backwards. Her hands at the back reached the edge of the roof - and she lifted herself up by balancing her legs with all the strength she could, ending up facing the other way on her two feet.

She smiled - man, moments like these feel good.

The wind blew. A whole inner city was laying under her eyes. A breathtaking view. But Alia didnt waste a single second to run, run, run wherever a clear path showed, and soon a silhouette behind her appeared, then two, then, suddenly, more than ten - it was like they sent their whole garrison after her. All good. Nothing she hadn't seen before.

Something felt off, though, when she heard a "zzzzip" noise.

Shit. That thing.

On her side, man and a woman appeared and tried to catch her -missing her arms only of a few centimeters. She leapt aside and kept running in another direction, more flattened and towards the middle, where gears couldn't have any competitive use -or so she thought: suddenly, from high-up, raven-haired man rained from the skies, straight onto her. She tried to kick him as he landed but he didn't budge, and hit her leg flying midway in the air. Alia turned around in a heartbeat and tried to run, but - "aaargh" Alia screamed, as the man then grabbed her hair, and forced her to kneel.

A man forcing her to kneel? Alia's vision from the distant past emerged. She was suddenly thirteen, and had just been sold t

o that whore house. Her first client did just that - forced her to kneel, and she was quick to grab his pocket knife. And stab him straight in the heart.

Her own screams and shouts took her back to the present.

"You only caught me thanks to your gear, bastard. Dont press your luck. Get OFF me!"

The man finally spoke. "Trust me, I want to, you're disgusting. But then you'll be left with this incompetent bunch."

His voice was cold, indifferent. He himself conveyed this cold arrogance. He was rather small, but he emanated an unmatched aura of authority and power.

But she would not allow any man to intimidate her. She eyed for a knife - she perceived so many ways of freeing herself from that man, so many ways to make him kneel instead, and worse. But she was the one to be chained. Tears streamed down her face as the man started to add chains all around her chest, so that she couldn't even try to strike him like she did to the guard. Hands and arms stuck on her back, without any way to run, she was now powerless.

She would not give up. She tried to stand up, but all her efforts were in vain -he kicked her off to the ground at each move. She tasted blood in her mouth, didn't know where it was coming from - her nose, probably. She had hit the floor hard.

Silhouette were coming closer and closer to them. More than a dozen. Part of her felt victorious that she alone was seen as such a difficult threat, but another part of her felt despair - it was the end. She would not be able to escape this, at least not as she hoped to.

"No, no..., Please... Please, don't let them take me back there", Alia sobbed. "I need to get back to the Underground... I-I need to, ... People need me there..."

At the Underground mention, his eyes seemed to widen for a fraction of second, as if he recognised a familiar name. Perhaps he was part of that world, too... No. It was impossible. He was pretty much serving the law, chasing criminals, and, above all - he looked way too clean.

"Shut up, brat."

"Corporal! We promise on our honour that this shall never, ever happen again." The guards put their hands on their heart, looking defeated, and ... scared.

"I do not place much value on the honour of the military police. Just do your damn fucking job."

The captain let a few seconds pass - death-staring each of them. The guards' faces now pointed on the floor.

"Watch your prisoner, you stupid brats. She should've been fucking dragged to the interrogation room already."

On these words, he grabbed Alia and violently threw her onto the panicked guards. With hands and arms chained on her back from across all of her chest, Alia was unable to keep her balance nor cushion the fall. She could only close her eyes, scared of how she was about to get her head hit first and hard on the roof tiles. At this velocity, it could be deadly.

"No", she panicked, and tried to get her legs steady on counterbalance, but the power and speed was too much. Suddenly, just as she was about to hit the ground, someone caught her, and she felt carried up.

"I said... Watch over your prisoner." The voice of the raven-haired man.

Alia opened her eyes. He was the one who threw her at the guards, and observing their inaction, he leapt to save her. Why did he care about her staying alive? Did they need her in anyway..? What would they want from her in the interrogation room?

/ let me know what you think! should I continue? :)