Her Protector

Chapter One; Heads

"Good afternoon, sixty-six. How are you feeling?" the man in the suit asked, he slowly turned the steel door shut, then locked it.

She kept her head low. Her long, white, messy hair fell around the curvature of her neck.

Suddenly she heard a sharp slap before the rising burn heated her face.

"Jesus," she mumbled, without raising her head. She spat the blood pooling in her mouth purposefully aiming for the man's shiny black shoes. 

"Learn to speak when spoken to," he tilted her chin and slapped her again, eliciting a deep and guttural groan from the girl.

At that moment, she felt a rush of adrenaline. She hadn't felt that for a long time.

Her mind went fuzzy when a faint light illuminated her abdomen, the faint glow followed her gaze as she looked up. It was coming from her, specifically her eyes.

That's when the girl felt another jolt of adrenaline, but it felt stronger, much stronger.

When she raised her head, she lost control of her own body and pulled her right arm to her chest, breaking the chain that held it in place.

"What the—"

She wrapped her trembling hands around his neck, feeling each of his muscles contracting at the restriction.

She tightened her grip as she watched the color drain from his face. He started choking and began to make grabbing motions at her hand, trying to get her to let go.

When she felt his efforts end and watched his struggling cease, without a thought she tossed his corpse against the wall.

When he didn't get up, she shattered the chain that held her left hand, bringing it to her chest like she did for the other.

The next thing she had to deal with was her neck restraints and the ugly metal anklets.

She tried to use the strength from earlier but got nowhere with the metal necklace.

When she tried her luck with the shackles on her ankles, they both came apart. The resonance of each cuff left a deep red mark.

His last words weren't even interesting.

She got to the door and turned it until she heard it click.

When She opened the door, the darkness from the room was overpowered by the glowing lights in the hall. A long corridor, at least a dozen doors next to hers since she was at the end of the hall.

There were also doors along the opposite walls, a freaky number of doors, actually.

She walked up to the door in front of hers and slowly turned the door open out of curiosity.

This one was quieter than hers, but the room was just as dark, to the girl's surprise the door opened fairly easily and there was no need for a key.

She heard coughing, and a man yelled, "Get out!"

To her left, a man lunged at her, but his attacks dwindled in the face of another adrenaline rush.

Using that jolt of power, she punched him across the face, and a tooth flew out, causing him to cough up blood.

She punched him again, this time in the gut. He tried swinging at her a few times but failed when she swept his legs, watching him trip to the floor.

I was hoping for at least a little competition.

She walked over to him, and he scooted back, seemingly trying to escape. She laughed at his attempts then wrapped her hand around his neck, watching the life drain from his eyes.

Once he stopped fighting and squirming, she left his corpse, returning to face the girl in chains.

"Who—"

She cut her off by reaching toward where the chain met the wall, using my newfound strength to rip the metal out of place. The chain fell to the floor with a loud clang.

"Who are you?" the girl in chains asks.

"Sixty-six."

The unchained girl quietly made her way to the other side, ripping the other chain out of the wall.

"I'm forty-four," she said while the other worked silently ripping the chains off the restraints around her ankles.

Sixty-six tilted her head in the light, trying to get a good look at the large binding around her neck, studying it to see if she could find a way to remove it.

She took the time to gaze at the many random scars that covered her neck, she looked like she saw a ghost.

"What did they do to you?" Sixty-six flinched when she reached out to touch her neck, but she let her continue by taking her wrist in her hand and gently running her fingers over the raised scars.

Sixty-six's face heated up at the subtle intimacy as they sat in silence, she looked away, peeking out of the room and down the hallway making sure no guards happened to have heard the commotion.

After she saw no one, they walked into the light of the hallway, "Do you think we can get some other people out of here—" she was interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching.

Sixty-six took her wrist and pulled her into her room again. Slowly and quietly closing the door, darkness engulfed us as she rested her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing.