The King's Lost Sword [COMPLETED]

Chapter 9

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When Adira rushed into her apartment later that night, Allison was nowhere to be seen, but Adira didn't bother to worry about her friend, Allison was, after all, an adult. Adira shut the door and locked it before she released a heavy breath. Her feet ached from going down back roads and turning where it wasn't necessary, she felt the skin cut and bloody. Truthfully, Adira was grateful that Allison hadn't been there when she arrived home, she didn't want her friend to fret over her.

Adira flipped the bathroom light on as she entered and set a medical box down on a short table next to the toilet. She stripped from her clothes and wet a rag; she cleaned the cuts on her feet first and then moved onto her lip, cringing as she saw herself in the mirror.

Darren's blood-covered her neck and a small trickle of her own blood ran down the bottom half of her face. Once she'd scrubbed the blood from her body, she didn't look much better: she could already see the beginnings of a scar that ran the length of her upper lip, short of her nose, and the shape of a large hand bruised her neck.

Naked, Adira grabbed the muddy dress and left the bathroom. She walked to the end of the hall and entered her room, she discarded her dress next to the dresser as she pulled out underwear along with a sports bra and then dived under the covers, falling into a nightmare-fueled sleep.

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The mid-afternoon sun was hot as Adira walked to The Factory the next day. She'd somehow managed to avoid Allison that morning, but Adira wasn't complaining. Her bruises looked worse the following morning and if Adira hadn't fought for her life, she'd have thought she had been dragged through the forest during her sleep.

Her mattress had certainly felt like the ground, and she spent the night waking up drenched in sweat, haunted by memories of Natasha. Adira was very proud of herself for not relapsing. It helped that she had an appointment with Mr. Isaiah and she knew that if she'd shown up high, she'd lose her chance at becoming an assassin again.

This time the metal door didn't creak as Adira entered and she raised a hand to shield her eyes as a ray of sun shined in through one of the broken windows and bounced back off one of the corners like the sun did to a mirror. Adira knew that there wasn't a mirror there, there wasn't anything in the abandoned building except for dust and the occasional person.

Mr. Isaiah stood with his back to the door in the middle of the space but turned at the sound of the door opening. "Nine!" He exclaimed, anger evident in his voice.

"Yes, Sir." Adira bowed her head slightly and stopped walking a few feet from the man.

"Mr. Federic is still alive."

Adira wanted to snap back with ''Which one are we talking about?'' but she knew that it would've been smarter to jump into an empty swimming pool, so instead she replied: "Yes, Mr. Isaiah, before I could cut his throat a woman ran out and interrupted our fight."

"I've already had a chat with Darren and he informed me that he had you cornered, he underestimated you though and therefore you had a chance at escape. He's informed me that if he gets the chance to kill you again, you will not get the same opportunity."

Adira grimaced, the material of the turtle neck seemed to itch more at his words. "I had it under control!" She yelled, which surprised them both, "You used to trust me, what happened to that?"

The Coordinator cleared his throat, staying calm like usual. "That was before you stole my drugs and became a substance abuser!"

Adira's palms pushed against her temple, she felt a headache blossoming. "What about the bar?" Mr. Isaiah continued, "The 'Wild Hog Bar' if I recall correctly."