I'll Protect You (Re-Edit #2, 2016)

Hit me with your best shot

What I hated the most about waking up after being knocked out with chloroform and taken somewhere obscure was that it always smelled. There would be this constant repugnant odor in the air no matter where I was—an abandoned warehouse, a basement, old sewage or subway tunnels. It always reeked. This place was no exception.

Apparently, kidnappers couldn't choose a place that smelled much more pleasant. Or invest in some Febreze either.

There was a throbbing pain in my head that refused to fade away as I regained consciousness. The more my senses returned, the worse the pounding got. I let out a loud groan, lifting my head up, and tried to open my eyes. There was a yellow light that pierced my gaze, blocking any images from my sight. My arms ached and my wrists pressed uncomfortably against one another. When I tried to move, I found that my waist was secured as well. Glancing down, I saw that that the only things that were free were my feet, which were bathing in a large puddle.

It was a good choice to wear boots.

The air around me felt damp and after the light dimmed, my eyes could see that the walls were slick with water. Droplets from the storm could be heard in echoes from all distances around me, eerily plopping into puddles. The odor worsened—I recognized it as the stank smell of rain water mixed with dirt and trash.

I was in an old sewage tunnel system. Thunder rolled overhead and the downpour of rain crashed above me. It was cold and moist and I was reminded all over again of why I hated sewage tunnels.

A sudden whimper was heard and I turned my head towards the noise. A few feet away stood Sophia, her wet blonde hair dangling around her face in tangled strands. Her bright blue eyes were bugging out at me on a face of bruises. Blood coated a side of her face and when she opened her mouth, I squinted my eyes and saw that she sported a cut lip. To her right was Vincent, who looked ten times worse, and the fear in his eyes brought my senses alive. 

I need to get them out of here. 

"Alex?" Sophia asked, her voice full of bewilderment.

"Wrong!" someone crowed. A figure stepped out from the shadows behind the light source, which I finally realized wasn't being held by an invisible post but rather by a tall individual wearing a white mask. I squeezed my eyes shut and then snapped them back open. 

I estimated about six people crowded in front of me. Each one of them was masked--two wore white ones, one wore black, and the last three wore gray. Whether they were girls or boys were details hidden by layers and layers of black clothing. Three of them held guns. One barrel was aimed at me. 

"This is Park Mai Alexandra Sparrow," the person from before boomed. "Princess of Cimeria!"

Judging from the boyish tone, I guessed that the figure was a young male, probably in his early twenties. A black masked covered his face with slits showing dark eyes glinting at me. 

"Bow down, everyone," Black Mask sneered. "You're in the presence of royalty."

Vincent and Sophia were forced onto their knees by their captors and I cringed at Sophia's cry.

"What do you want?" I spoke up. "Are you going to hold me ransom for the throne? For money? I'll tell you right now that it's not going to work."

"Oh, we're not silly enough to just hold you hostage, little princess," Black Mask answered. "We may be here through her suggestion, but we're nothing like the runts in her crowd. You're here because we have every intention of killing you."

I need to get out of this chair, I thought as my heart hammered against my rib cage. There was no empty threat in his words—my life wasn't precious to them. I was dispensable.