Flynn noticed something was wrong when the blood on the floor had made a puddle large enough to hit the sole of his black boots, barely visible in the dark. He immediately shoved the line of men out of the way once her head went weak and fell forward. Due to the look on their faces, they had forgotten she had been stabbed and was practically bleeding gallons.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? She was fucking dying in front of you and you didn't do shit?" Flynn cursed, stepping over the blood as he shook her shoulders, her dark hair casting a veil over her face. He looked at her bloodstained leg and cursed again, trying to unlatch the cuffs that were keeping her on the chair.
Zion watched as Flynn rapidly hustled around the unconscious girl. He didn't realize the mistake he had made until after he made it.
He seems to be making a lot of mistakes these days.
Zion was clear and easily negotiable with Flynn's deal to keep her alive, but he was too blinded by his own pride to see that she was actually dying in front of him. When he had ordered Xavier to stab the girl, he thought she would comply immediately.
Now he realized how much he underestimated her as Flynn Faring frantically checked her breathing and pulse, finding none, and going into CPR. Of course, he wouldn't let anyone see his sliver of remorse as she was on the brink of death.
The Golden Raven girl is stronger than all of them thought.
~~~
ZHARA
When I finally opened my eyes, I hoped it was to meet Satan, but unfortunately, I was back in this fucked up world.
Except this time, I wasn't bleeding to death and I wasn't cuffed to a chair in a cold room. Instead, I was laying on a mattress that only had a thin white sheet covering me. I sat up, my body aching as I take in my surroundings.
So prison is hell?
There was a large cement wall on either side of the corner I was in, but the other walls were bars caging me in. There wasn't any toilet or anything, much to my disappointment, I think. There was barely anything around me, only the rough floor and a bucket filled with God-knows-what in the opposite corner.
I looked down, expecting to see some sort of wound evidence, but only came in contact with a bandage over my thigh, no crimson coloring in sight. I was still in my hoodie and shorts, so nobody had changed my clothes, thankfully.
I don't know if this is worse than the chair...but might as well use the little freedom to my advantage.
I pushed myself up off the mattress, wincing as the soreness in my thigh spread throughout my right side. I limped over to the bars, hoping to grab onto the rusted metal to take some weight off my leg.
I gripped two bars with my hands and leaned my face closer, trying to look around. The only thing I saw was the hallway light which kept flickering annoyingly, and a few other cells just like mine lining the hall.
I was now regretting throwing my only weapon across that interrogation room because I was being cocky.
I groaned as I realized how boring this was going to be, sitting here, waiting for somebody to either drag my ass back up to Earth or kill me.
Either way, I was pleading for them to quicken their pace.
There was nothing in the room I could kill myself with, so at this point, I was out of options.
With a frustrated sigh, I plopped back down on the weird mattress and draped the sheet over a shoulder.
I tried to get my eyes to shut, but each time I did, the stupid light would flicker and make a weird noise, causing my instinct to react. I don't know how long the cycle repeated itself, but I honestly didn't want to know.
I rubbed a hand down my face as my patience went out the door- well, whatever the nearest exit was.
I tugged the entire sheet off the mattress and stood up, looking around the room for something to do. My eye caught on the bars again, then dropped to the sheets crumpled in my hands. A small smile made its way on my face as I hopped over to the bars again. I looped the white silk around one bar and tied the end, pulling on it to make sure it was tight.
Once I was satisfied, I went over to the mattress and moved it out of the way so I could stand on the floor and reach the vent I saw above it. My shoes were most likely dirty, and I still had a bit of class. I reached my hand up and let it hover over the vent, trying to feel for any incoming air.
Of course there isn't any Zhara, you aren't living in a motherfucking mansion, they wouldn't give you hot air...
I shrugged my thoughts away and carefully avoided the dust as I looped a corner of the sheet into one of the gate-like bars in the vent, tying it in a beautiful knot, in my opinion.
I stood up and metaphorically dusted off my hands like I just built a house. I smiled at my creation and hurried over to the cacoon-like structure that was an attempt at a hammock.
I grabbed the flimsy mattress and folded it slightly, frowning at how thin I noticed it was. Once I put it in between the two flaps of the sheets, I let go and watched it spread the sheets into a more comfortable and supporting thing to lay in. I'm surprised nobody has come in here to take away my imaginative design in front of me.
I tipped my head upwards at the security camera I pretended not to see earlier and flipped it off, hoping to piss off anyone enough so they would come down here and beat my ass.
After about a minute, my arms got tired, so I hoisted myself into the hammock and sighed in relief when my injured leg got some clarity. My eyes shut and I was luckily not interrupted by the flickering light. I was smart and made the sheets facing away from the light, now only facing the dark wall.
I started humming a song as my finger plucked at the ends of the sheets, making a vibrating sound. Music would calm me down in any situation, surprisingly.
Unfortunately, I think my whole 'I always have an escape bitch' thing was proven wrong this time.
I slowly swayed back and forth until I felt a presence in the small space, even though I didn't hear anything. I assumed whoever had come down here was only standing in the hallway, and the faraway sound of boots scuffing alerted me of who it was. Flynn was there, but I still felt more.
"What's shakin', Flynnie-boy?" I snap, more aggressive than needed as I continue staring up at the ceiling. A low chuckle fills the empty space and I hear the creaking of metal against metal and know that there is definitely more than one person in the cell now. I knew Flynn laughed, but I was eager to see the other people's reaction to my great architecture.
I averted my gaze from the plain ceiling when multiple heads came into view, a few of which I wanted to chop off. I immediately sat up and balanced the hammock to stop moving. Flynn was standing closest to me and my...creation and Zion, Blondie, Mr. Handy-Dandy-Bondage-Daddy, and the guy from the bar were standing at the entrance of the cell, looking amused as ever.
Blondie, ahem, Liam laughed as he took in my position in the air, causing me to glare at him in return. He cleared his throat as the awkward silence started to settle.
"So, putting me on the verge of meeting death and then bringing me back to this hell wasn't enough for you boys?" I smirk, liking the amount of height I had in this thing. I was practically the same size as Flynn now that I was sitting up. Speaking of Flynn, his face dropped as the words left my mouth. I groaned and rolled my eyes as I looked over at Zion.
"Okay, are you just gonna stand there and stare at my wonderous constructing or talk? I kind of have a date with the devil soon," I sigh, lifting my wrist to look at the invisible watch planted there. That got most of them to snap out of whatever trance they were in, and now everyone was actually aware of what was happening.
"Get up," Zion snaps, referencing my comfortable hammock. I raise an eyebrow and look under me.
"Nah, I don't think I will," I retort, seeing Flynn wince at my comeback. He really just needs to take a nap and get laid.
"Xavier," Zion orders, causing me to get a flashback of what happened before I passed out. Instead of waiting for the pain to come, I stuck my palm out, hitting Xavier square in the chest and swinging forward in the hammock to kick my uninjured leg out. My foot hit his ribs with a thud and he cursed as I reached out and grabbed his gun out from his waistband.
Why the fuck didn't they handcuff me?
Eh, too late for regrets.
In the span of 2 seconds, Zion, Liam, and bar-guy all had their guns pointed at me and I was pointing it straight at Zion. Xavier tried grabbing at my arms, but I flipped around in the hammock and hopped out of it gracefully, backing away from him as I flicked the barrel of the gun towards him.
"Were ya gonna stab the other leg, huh?" I tease, but no humor was on my tone as I feel myself grow angry. Staring into the barrel of 3 guns wasn't what I expected, and especially holding one myself was not on the To-Do List. So much for wanting this to go quick.
I was definitely not getting out of this without a bullet wound, so I tossed the gun over to Xavier, which he frantically caught.
"Fuck this," I muttered under my breath as I carelessly walked over to the vent and untied the sheet, hearing the thud of the mattress on the ground behind me. I turned to see them all staring at me, guns slightly pointed downwards as I walk over to the bars.
I untie the opposite end of the sheet and shake the mattress out from the tangled silk. I gather the sheet in my grasp and turn back towards the men.
"Happy now? Come on, Capo Di Capi, speed up the process, like I said, make sure to be quick, I got a date," I smirk as I spread out the sheet on the floor and stand tall in the middle of it. All they do is gape at me as Zion does that weird eye-searching thing he does a lot.
"I'm trying to be nice here, no mess or anything," I cross my arms, tilting my head at the grey-eyed man.
Why did he have to be attractive?
Okay, no, no, I didn't think that, I just meant that this isn't the worse sight to see right before death.
"Zhara, they aren't gonna kill you," Flynn confirms, walking over to me as he kicks the sheet away. I let out a disappointed sigh and cross my arms, observing the men one more time as they lower their guns, much to my sorrow. When Flynn tried reaching out for me, I quickly stepped off the rest of the sheet and stayed in the opposite corner of the room. I dusted off the side of the wall and then leaned against it, waiting for one of them to man up and say something.
"Instead of your plan to be killed, you will be working for our side," Zion states as if it's the most normal thing in the world.
"Why?"
They all seemed kind of dumbfounded at my simple question, which only made me want to scaddadle out of here. It was pretty simple if you ask me, why couldn't they just kill me instead of sending me on missions against my family where I would probably end up getting killed.
"Like you said, you are damn good at what you do," Zion smirks, causing my eyes to widen at his confession, "and why not put you to use?"
All respect I had just gained from his first phrase had drowned in the depths of my anger for the second phrase.
"I am not a weapon that can be tossed around or a tool that can be 'put to use', if that's what you think, then I'll stay right where I am," I fumed, crossing my arms to hide my clenched fists. Zion took a step closer.
"You are a human, yes, with thoughts and whatnot, but a conscience? Remorse? Regret? Do you really feel any of those?" he speculated, causing my parted lips to roll into each other as I held back a retort.
He was right.
"Do you feel like everyone else? Or were you trained to cause others to feel? You were trained to kill, destruct, and destroy. Maybe you aren't physically a weapon or a tool, but the way you act proves differently," he seethes, some sort of hatred lining the backbone of his words. I was practically digging my nails into my palms like it was the only relief I had.
"Stop acting like you know me," I bite back all the other words I wanted to stay. I kept my eyes set on the side of the wall across from us, knowing if I was to make eye contact, all hell would break loose.
"What's there to know?" he stopped about two feet in front of me, "Again, you don't feel anything, so what's the point of trying to see through someone who has no soul."
I snap my head up to glare at him, only faltering once when I realized he was already staring at my eyes.
"You. Don't. Know. Shit." I hissed through gritted teeth, pushing my weight off the wall to stand up straighter to him.
"I believe I do. Even your actions earlier proved my assumption correct, your use to your father was done for, so what was your first request?" he pried, "To be killed. You didn't even care that you could have had a future, you just knew that you weren't going to be of use to your owner anymore, so you acted just as a weapon would, and asked to be thrown away."
My fist got only one hit in after his words, but his hand locked around my wrist and pulled me forward, knocking my balance.
At this point, my face had to be burning with rage.
"You don't know shit!" I had said, somewhere in between bruising my knuckles and being tugged at by someone, most likely one of his men.
I kept getting out of his grip and getting a punch to wherever I was aiming, but he would grab my wrists again before I could do any real damage. The cycle repeated itself until I was tired, which was pretty quick because I was still exhausted. I eventually gave up, as he said, I was programmed to do just that, slumping off of the weight of my right leg to avoid pain and letting myself fall to the floor.
I was panting in anger, sadness, jealousy, whatever the hell it was. I didn't even know if I was feeling anything anymore. He didn't know anything about me, and he had a large fucking ego if he thought he could use that against me.
But deep down, I knew he was right, and that's what broke me even more.
He let go of my wrists and my arms buckled to lock around myself. My lungs heaving to get air as my knees folded underneath me. I didn't care anymore. I couldn't care anymore.
"Get up," he said. No movement.
I would eventually find a way out of this, even if it did prove them right.
"Get up," he ordered again, the words going straight through my ears with no contradiction. If he wanted a weapon, I would give them a fucking weapon.
I stood to my feet and wavered slightly when my thigh ached, but kept my head leveled. They all probably thought I was feeling ashamed and defeated right now, but all I could think about was how easy it would be to overturn them when they finally got used to my behavior.
I bite back a smile as I walk to the open door they forgot was still open and go right past them.
These guys are fucking stupid.
As I walk through the hallway, I hear them walking after me. I don't really know what I was planning on doing, but I forgot all my thoughts when my eyes landed on another cell that held a man sitting in the corner. He didn't have a mattress, poor guy.
His brown eyes snapped up to mine when he sensed me standing outside the bars, slightly scaring me at the state he was in. His face was more than bruised and beat up. Dried blood around his mouth and his clothes, in his dirty blonde hair. He looked decently young, too.
"Di Maggio."
He said it like it was a slur, and I honestly wanted to throw up in my mouth at the sound of it. The way Zion Armani spat my surname like it was dirt on the bottom of his shoe made me want to bash his face in, even though I felt the same way about the name.
My eyes stayed on the man, and I gave the guy a nod in greetings, but his head quickly dropped when I felt a presence behind me.
I turned when I heard the sharp intake of air coming from Flynn, seeing Zion approaching me. I looked back to the man and scoffed, smiling slightly as I halted in my slow steps.
"Armani," I return, taking in the situation I was in before he got close enough that I couldn't protect myself. I noticed the door a few seconds ago, there were stairs leading up to it. I could bolt down there quick enough to get away from him, but I have no clue where I am.
He's really fricking tall.
"Xavier," is all he said, again, bringing me bad memories.
I roll my eyes, stretching out my arm as I turn to look behind Zion where Xavier is walking up to him. He holds up his hands in defense and shakes his head at me. That's supposed to convince me he won't stab me again.
"Take her to the room," Zion orders, acting like he didn't just remove the only sense of dignity I just had. As Xavier's hand locked on my elbow and dragged me somewhere, all I could think about was my new plan to destroy them from the inside out.
Like he said, that's what I was trained to do.