Immortality

Chapter Twenty-One - Love, and Be Silent

Author's note - important news! Having recently had to leave my job due to serious medical concerns, I am at the current moment taking stock of my life. I've come to the realization that I want to make writing a part of my career, and for this I need your help. That's why I've launched a Patreon page, where I'm hoping that some of you can help me make my passion for writing into a real career. To everyone who has supported me for so long, thank you. 

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The guard who ambled by from time to time was easy enough to flag down.

"Hi," said Nightingale. She hung off the bars, smiling as sweetly as she could. "What's your name?"

The guard looked to his left and to his right, as if surprised she was speaking to him. 

"Oh come on," she said. "Don't be shy. I'm bored. What's your name, handsome?"

"Robert. Bobby," he said.

Nightingale grinned at the coincidence as she repeated his name. "Bobby," she said, and she made just the name sound incredibly filthy. "You're handsome."

"Uh, thanks," he said. He looked furtive.

"What's the matter?" she asked, cocking her head and playing stupid. "Don't you like me?"

"I'm not supposed to be talking to the merchandise," he replied.

She pouted. "Not even when it's as pretty as me?" she asked. When he didn't respond, she pretended that had wounded her. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

"Yeah," he said.

She bit her lip and let her eyes rake him from head to toe. She let the silence hang in the air as Bobby pretended not to notice. He was visibly uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot as he looked anywhere but at Nightingale.

"I'm bored, Bobby," she whined. "Won't you keep me company?"

His head whipped around. "You mean-"

She nodded, and licked her lips for good measure. That would have been a step too far for most men, but she could tell that this one was desperate.

"I shouldn't," he said.

She pouted again. "Do you always do what you should? What about what you want? I can see you want me."

"I shouldn't," he repeated, and now Nightingale could see that she had him. 

"Come on," she cajoled. "No one will know."

He looked left, and then right, and then reached for the keys on his belt. He opened the door and Nightingale smiled. Letting his rifle hang slack at his side by its strap, he sauntered his way in. Nightingale kept her distance from him, encouraging him to proceed further into the cell.

He did, and then she had him. "Hope you like it rough, baby," she said to him.

He looked a little confused. "Wh-" was all he managed, because Nightingale kicked him directly in the chest. He went flying back into the bars with a thud, and Nightingale followed at once. He reeled and made a swing for her, but winded and weakened, he missed.

Nightingale punched him in the face with all the strength she could muster. It proved considerable; he dropped to the floor, catching himself on his hands. The rifle clattered to the ground.

Nightingale delivered another blow to his face, this time snapping her heel across his cheek. He collapsed. He didn't get up.

She checked him for a pulse - he was alive, but unconscious. She took his rifle and slung it over her back. Then she fished the comm out of his ear and crushed it with the heel of her shoe. For good measure, she took the handcuffs from his belt, too. Dragging him as far as the door, she handcuffed him to a bar.