Selina's POV
I grabbed a black face mask and wore it, my eyes and nose uncovered so that I could make use of them. Pacing around my small apartment, I listened carefully while tracing the steps. I saw the shadow of a woman run past, causing me to turn sharply. My steps were quiet, like the movement of an animal about to grab the neck of its unaware prey.
I stopped to observe, to feel, and to listen, but the intruder seemed to be smarter than I thought. Just as I turned, a hand snatched my mask from behind, pulled it off, and took a quick picture of me. When she turned to leave, I pulled her by her hair and a thick groan escaped from her lungs. I raised my hand to slice across her neck, but she moved away, causing the blade to slice through her hair instead and leaving strands in my hands.
Quickly, she dropped her phone into her jean pocket and smacked my cheek with her elbow; my nose throbbed and bled. Before I raised my head again, she gave me a straight kick right in my face, and I dropped to the ground.
Seeing that I was lying flat, she faced the exit, ready to escape. I quickly snatched a rope beside me, swung it in the air, and threw it her way. Her neck caught in the rope, she screamed, struggling to pull free. I pulled her towards me. My face tightened.
"Who sent you?" I demanded with a rough voice. I punched her face continuously, pouring my frustration on her, and by the time I had satisfied myself with the punches I threw at her, her head dropped down, nose broken, mouth bleeding, face swollen. She was barely recognizable. She spat in my face as she let out a bitter laugh, her cracked voice echoing in my small house.
"Is that all you've got, Selina?" she questioned, earning a hard push from me. "Is this all of you Miss stripper?! You're nothing but a god damn stripper who knows nothing other than sending people to hell amidst sex… but hey! Your end has come. Now your head is about to be ripped off" She said, letting out a dry laugh that revealed her blood-stained teeth.
"Tell me, who sent you!" I demanded again, my patience wearing thin. I grabbed my knife and held it to her face. "If you don't speak, I'll sever your head too!"
"What are you waiting for, you rotten asshole?"
I placed the knife under her jaw. Her gaze lowered as her eyes drifted to the knife. Then my eyes fell on the wallet in her jacket pocket. I removed it and flipped it open. Her national identity card and some other documents were in the wallet. I threw it behind me and tied her hands and legs on the spot.
I walked to my computer, pressed the switch button, and waited a little for it to load. My face was hard and dry. When it displayed the desktop environment, I clicked on an application and it opened. I returned to her, pulled her by her leg, and lifted her to the desk. I snatched her hand and forced her thumb on the biometric scanner, her full information displayed on my screen.
Her phone was lying on the table beside my computer. I reached for it, threatening her to disclose the password to unlock it but she refused and earned a punch from me.
"If you don't get rid of me now, my sister will come for you and when she does, you'll be lying dead!" she blurted out but I didn't mind her. I faced the computer and from the screen, I read.
"Katarina Stone, former CSI at the New York Police Department." I rolled my eyes in her direction, staring as if expecting to read it on her. She lay on the floor, breathing heavily, begging for her final breath to come.
I searched her pockets. Only a half-smoked stick of Indian hemp lay there. I dropped it beside her and returned to my screen, scrolled down: a picture of her standing with three other men in black, captured unaware. My eyes narrowed. I scrolled further and saw, "dismissed and imprisoned for breaking the law."
Then a text message entered her phone, the message was displayed on the screen: "Deliver her alive!" the unsaved number wrote.
I removed my gun from behind me and pointed it at her. "Speak now or die! Who the hell sent you?!" My eyes shone red, burning with fury.
Kat remained silent. Her shoulders dropped and her bones were weak. Obviously, she accepted that death was inevitable for her at that moment.
I smacked her nose with the back of the gun, and more blood gushed out. She spat it on my face again, and I hit her one more time. She landed on the ground and without breathing space, I pulled her up by her hair and dragged her towards the corner, the rope was still wrapped around her neck. I couldn't care how many chains were on her. I found a more solid iron hook fixed to the wall in my room, and I chained her to that. Her chances of escaping were one percent over a thousand. I couldn't tell where her strength came from because she hurled words at me, ones enough to triggered my anger. But I turned a deaf ear to whatever she said. I grabbed my leather jacket, snatched my sunglasses, and put on leather leggings, ready for my usual. My heels whispered 'death' as I hit the road again.
Before I left, I whispered in her ear. "I'll not go for your sister. I don't do ladies. I'll go for your brother Robert Stones, owner of the Shadows Club, Macaulay Way. And hey, you'll watch me fuck him and slice across his throat just like you said I would. When I get back, I'll play the video for you, darling," I said and kissed her lip as I made my way out.
"Fuck you! Fuck you! Bastard!" I heard her yell as I stormed out.