Insomnia

The Beginning

Yep part three.

Nothing else to say really.

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A slow creak came from the hinges that Lucia refused to oil.

Lucia was greeted by three bold men standing before her. Dressed for what seemed to be a dinner with royalty, they stood tall at the doorway.

Isla heard the fake voice Lucia put on for strangers.

"Hello neighbours, what may I do for you." Though they had for a while been living in America, Lucia had not managed to lose the British accent she possessed.

The three men didn't reply but instead they forced there way into the apartment shoving Lucia out the way.

"Excuse me." the tallest of the three men turned to look at the frustrated Lucia still standing at the doorway. With a signal from his hand one of the men stopped and went back the other two continued into the house.

"Be careful what you touch, that is an ancient artefact, get your hands off..."

Lucia's voice was cut short by an elbow to the stomach from the guy who had stayed back.

Isla could see her crumble to the floor through the thin gap in the cupboard door. It took every ounce of self control to stay inside the cupboard. To not run out.

Instead Isla looked at the man. They clearly couldn't be bothered with face masks. The thick bulky features of this mans face were not complimented by the thick wad of greasy red hairs thrown on top of his head.

Isla was brought back to reality when a black barrel appeared in his hand. Lucia was beginning to try get up again when the man pressed the gun to her head. Isla could hear the soft click and the high pitched voice of the man.

"Stay on your knees."

Isla's heart had begun to quicken. She could hear footsteps upstairs. The sound of furniture being thrown around. The sound of their privacy being invaded. Until it all stopped and again silence drifted through the house. It was all silence, but Isla was sure her heart was echoing through the house like a drumbeat. The still image of Lucia looking so calm with a gun pressed to her head sat before her and yet Isla was tense and uncomfortable cramped where she was.

The silence was also uncomfortable and Isla almost let out a relieved sigh when she heard footsteps thudding down the stairs.

The tall man entered the room with a look of utter annoyance plastered on his face. He rounded on Lucia and stuck the barrel of his gun in between her eyes.

"Where. is. it." he waited and his unblinking eyes never left Lucia's.

"I. am. not. going. to. ask. you. again." he dug the barrel into her forehead leaving an impression printed there.

Lucia was on her knees thinking. All three men had their guns pointed at her now. suddenly Lucia locked eyes with Isla in the cupboard. She could feel the piercing gaze of those brown eyes looking into hers. Her mouth moved. Isla was mouthing something but she couldn't see clearly what it was. She caught the word sorry; but she saw nothing else.

Lucia stood up looking straight into the eyes of the tall man.

"Go F**k yourself." a smile plastered on her face as she punched the guy hard on the cheek.

A look of shock was all that he possessed as he brought his hand up to his cheek which was already sprouting a bruise.

You idiot Lucia. do you want to kill yourself. The thought brushed through Isla's mind but she held onto it. She does. A small part of Lucia does want to die. She does not fear death. She does not care.

Isla's heart beat rose quickly.

"No. no. no." The muttering a under her breath filled the cupboard but did not leave it.

The man stared at his hand which he had just taken off his cheek.

"You little."

He stuck his hand round her throat and threw her against the mirror. Isla heard it shatter and sprinkle onto the floor. She heard the squeak of pain from Lucia and saw the flecks of blood staining the mirror pieces strewn across the floor.

That defeated worthless look crossed over Lucia again as she sat powerless in the corner. The tall man slowly lifted up the gun. In that moment his jacket parted just enough to see a priests stole around his throat. Isla smiled. Oh so now the church permits killing and ransacking houses.

However, she could not keep this train of thought long as the man had the long thin barrel of his gun leading straight to Lucia. Straight to that flawless face. Into those shining eyes.

The mans finger twitched a thousand times over in the shards of mirror surrounding him. Isla had to watch as a bullet flew through the room. Shattering the silence that was once their. It sliced through the air to its final destination.

Isla had to see the face of pain and misery reflected into every mirror shard. To watch as those eyes so full of broken life finally become lifeless. To watch them become dull. She had to watch that beautiful face become distorted in her final moments.

She had to see the room become splattered with blood as an artist would splatter a canvas with paint.

Isla portrayed no emotion. She had gone cold. She could not cry. She would not cry.

She didn't blink in those few moments. She was in a trance. Her eyes were fixated on the limp figure resting among the thousand of limp figures portrayed on the floor. The whole room shimmered in red.

Her trance was broken when the men finally decided to move.

"We ought to make this interesting." the tall one muttered to his friends and they dragged Lucia's body through to the lounge; out of view from Isla. She could only sit and wait as she heard the laughter run through the house.

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More to come I promise. This is nowhere near finished

Guys. Thoughts?¿

I love anybody who reads this.

:)