Alex knew it had been a bad idea to go snooping in the file room. Honestly, he didn't understand his motivation to go snooping there.
He remembered what Blunt had said.
"You brought this on yourself, Alex. Your too curious for your own good. You go places where you shouldn't be going," and all that other cras. Okay. He admitted that he was a bit too curious for his own good. But weren't children supposed to be curious like that? Wasn't it normal for kids to be curious like that?
He was jerked out or his thoughts by someone entering the room. Alex raised his head up as best as he could; it was the American he had encountered in the file room.
She looked the same. Her jeans were different, darker, and she had traded her leather jacket for a blouse. There was a dark bruise above her lip, which was curled, and a clever smoky eye hid her actual black eye.
" And we meet again." She said, moving closer to him. Alex didn't like her so close to him. Despite the fact that he had managed to take her down, Alex had felt the muscles concealed underneath her jacket. He had felt the raw power behind every push or hers. He had also felt something clunky in her jacket and had known it was a gun. Nothing else could compare to a gun.
There was a smell like flowers. It smelled nice. Alex forced himself to concentrate on the situation at hand. He had once heard that tobacco smelled nice too, like vanilla. Funny how the nicest smelling things were the ones that killed you.
The gag was ripped from his mouth. Alex gasped. He could breathe again!
" How are you Alex?" The American asked. She was so close to him now that he could make out her eye color. Green. With flecks. They might have been pretty had they not held a killer's murderous gaze.
He swallowed. " I'm good, thanks. How are you feeling?" He asked innocently, knowing that her eye and nose were probably still hurting. The woman smiled coldly.
" The doctor said I will be better in a week. The bruises and scars will fade down within two months. Sadly, what I am about to do to you will leave permanent scars, which is shame, considering that you have such a nice face."
Alex blinked. He had a nice face? That seemed like a weird thing to say in this kind of context.
The woman got up, pulling on a pair or surgical gloves.
" Do you know who I am?" She asked as she pulled on her second glove with a snap.
Alex shook his head. " Please do inform me."
The woman grabbed the gag again and stuffed it in his mouth. Alex nearly choked. The gag had after all been soaking in his own spit for a while, and it reeked. It tasted bad. Alex tried to push it out again, but the woman covered his mouth while ripping or a wad or duct tape and put it over his mouth.
" Your contributions are not required Alex." She smiled at him. Alex wished he could punch her again, possibly mauling her. Instead, he gave her a glare.
" And to answer your question," she went on, " My name's Acuna Three. You might think I'm American. I am. My mother and father, however, had an obsession with anime, so they decide to ruin their only child's life by naming her after a famous anime character."
Alex realized this was going to be a long talk. He hated it when villain's decided to tell their life story to him before deciding to kill him. What was the point? He was going to die anyways.
" Cut to the bullshit," he tried to mumble through the gag, annoyed that his final moments were going to spent listening to yet another villan's life biography. Acuna glanced at him once.
" You may think this is boring. However, seeing a you are already going to die, and very painfully, I feel the need to inform you why I will kill you."
She picked up a knife, tasting the point with her finger. Alex swallowed. Was she going to cut him? Open up his innards? Donate all his organs? On a previous mission, exposing the Snakeheads, his heart had an estimated value of one hundred thousand. His blood would sell for a quarter million, per pint. His eyes would fetch at least 500 each. It had made Alex so sick to think that if he had stayed any longer around the compound, if something had gone wrong, how within a day he would have been on an operating table with his eyes taken out, blood being steadily extracted from his arm one agonizing pint at a time, his chest cut open and his heart extracted from the cavity-
Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Alex squeezed the memories away. He was not going to think about this again. He had escaped. That was what mattered.
Acuna seemed to be aware of his memories. She smiled. " Yes, I heard about your little mission with the Snakeheads. It's really a shame." She brushed a strand of fair hair of his forehead. " Your pretty looks alone could have bought 50,000 dollars."
Alex swallowed, his throat dry. He was almost glad that he was gagged, because he was afraid that he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid. Really stupid, such as, " And people actally want to be pretty!"
Acuna cleared her throat. " I was born in New York, " she began, " in a mansion a little outside of the big city. My mother was an architect. My father was a businessman. I had a older sister. I despised her. Tragically, she was killed."
Alex had no doubt who had killed her.
" In college, I studied psychology and went on to become a psychologist. I especially specialized in special cases."
" What kind of special cases?" Alex asked as best as he could through the gag, despite himself.
" Troubled children. PTSD victims." Acuna glanced at him again. " However, I soon became bored with my occupation. And than I met SCORPIA. They offered me a position as a psychologist."
It slowly dawned on Alex. " Your with SCORPIA?"
" Yes."
" Dr. Three-?" Alex asked. Acuna's face twisted into a grimace.
" Aah, yes, him." She said, sounding as if he were the vilest thing she had ever met. " I'm married to him."
Alex eye's widened.
" Arranged marriage," she explained.
A/N: Okay, so I have to cut this chapter short because I have to go somewhere urgently. I am so sorry for the cliffhanger, and I am starting to edit my story so I might just edit my story and not post anything for a couple of weeks.