The moment she registered his presence, Elizabeth shot to her feet, every nerve screaming a warning. He advanced, each step deliberate, predatory. She recoiled, backing away until the cold, unyielding glass of the windowpane pressed against her spine.
A trapped animal.
'Could one slap really mess things up this much?' The thought echoed in her mind, a desperate plea against the reality unfolding before her.
His face, a canvas of grim impassivity, offered no solace, no hint of his intentions. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Finally, her fear converged into a fragile question.
"I-is there a problem, sir?" The words, barely a whisper, betrayed the terror that gripped her. Her body, rigid with fear, telegraphed the truth she couldn't voice.
He continued his silent appraisal, his gaze a tangible weight. Each second felt like an eternity, the opening to some unimaginable doom. Then, the words, cold and devoid of emotion, shattered the stillness.
"You're feisty. I don't like that."
Elizabeth felt a chill penetrate her to the very core. The words, devoid of inflection, resonated with a menace that left her breathless.
"It wasn't intentional—" she stammered, desperate to explain, to appease.
"You're coming with me." His pronouncement brooked no argument. He turned and strode out of the room, an expectation of obedience radiating from him. She followed, her feet leaden, her mind reeling. There was no time to consider her appearance, no opportunity to gather her thoughts.
Outside, Edward waited by a sleek, black car. Behind it, another vehicle idled, Damon's profile visible behind the wheel. Sir Tansi gestured curtly towards the second car before heading towards Edward's. The engine roared to life, the tires spitting gravel as the car sped away, Sir Tansi disappearing inside.
Elizabeth found Martha and Mary already occupying the back seat. Their faces were masks of silent grief, their eyes fixed straight ahead, offering no greeting, no explanation. A noticeable aura of despair clung to them, a silent testament to the darkness that permeated this place.
The ride was a torment of unspoken dread. Outwardly, Elizabeth strove for composure, attempting to project an air of calm. But inside, her mind was a whirlpool of fear and assumption.
'A planned murder? Surely, I deserve the chance to bid farewell to my nonexistent friends and family!'
As the car navigated the streets, familiar landmarks flashed past her eyes. It had been an age since she'd seen this part of town. This environment, though steeped in the hardscrabble reality of the lower class, held the fragments of her happiest memories.
She couldn't help but wonder what her captors thought of this place. They hadn't bothered to ask who she was; she could have been a hardened criminal for all they knew. Yet, they had brought her into their lives.
For a fleeting moment, she entertained the fantasy of being a ruthless killer. Perhaps then, she could have disentangled herself from this nightmare.
Lost in her thoughts, she recognized a familiar figure on the roadside.
"Lynette," she breathed, shock rippling through her. What was her friend doing here? She didn't have time to study her, the car sped past in a blur.
Lynette, the first person she had confided in about her illness. The memory brought with it a fresh wave of guilt.
Consumed by remorse, she missed the turn the car made. They were heading into the bush, towards a large, imposing facility surrounded by a high fence. The gates, massive and formidable, were reminiscent of those she had only read about in books. Two heavily muscled men strained to open them. This was no ordinary place.
As the car finally entered the compound, revealing a C-shaped building painted in dark army green, Elizabeth's fear intensified.
The open space in the middle was vast.
Damon opened her door, and Elizabeth stepped out, her gaze sweeping over the scene. Edward and Sir Tansi stood nearby. Martha and Mary followed behind her, their gloom unchanged.
Her nervousness returned tenfold. She moved closer to Sir Tansi, half-expecting him to be met by someone else from the building. But he seemed to be waiting for her.
As she drew near, he turned abruptly, walking past the main entrance of the facility and toward a door at the far end of the building.
Elizabeth's long gown hampered her progress, forcing her to lift it as she hurried to keep pace. She glanced back to see several uniformed figures emerge from the main building. They paid her no attention, engrossed in their own conversations and training exercises.
She found the indifference strange. But then, everything about this situation was surreal.
The door led to a series of corridors, quiet and sterile. Then, Sir Tansi opened another door, and the world exploded in a bluster of sound.
It was the first time Elizabeth had ever heard gunfire up close.
The air crackled with the deafening reports, the acrid smell of gunpowder filling her nostrils. A shooting range.
The room was divided into individual booths by thin walls. Each person wore headphones and gripped a weapon, focused on a target at the far end of the range. The targets were pictures of people, each marked with concentric circles of different colors, denoting levels of accuracy.
Elizabeth counted nine occupied booths.
Each gunshot sent a jolt through her body. But the others seemed unfazed, completely at ease in this environment of controlled violence.
Sir Tansi stopped at a closed-off area, a private booth with its own door.
Inside, the room was brightly lit, revealing an array of weapons of all shapes and sizes.
The space was larger than she expected, filled with equipment she couldn't identify.
Edward closed the door behind them, sealing them inside.
Elizabeth noticed a target at the end of the room, identical to the others, except that the picture was blank.
'Maybe he shot the previous picture until it tore.' It was the only explanation she could conjure.
Then, she watched as Martha and Mary approached the target, turning to face them. Damon moved behind them and produced black blindfolds. He carefully covered their eyes, tying the knots tight. Then, he stepped back, leaving them standing there, helpless.
Elizabeth felt a surge of disorientation, a sense of unreality.
"What's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling, her composure shattered.
Sir Tansi moved close, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in a deceptively calm tone.
"This, Elizabeth, is what happens when you act carelessly." The words, though softly spoken, were chilling. He straightened and moved to her side. Edward handed him a pistol, the movement momentarily eclipsing Elizabeth's vision.
She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.
She watched as he accepted the weapon, checked the safety, and disengaged it. He raised the gun, aiming it at the blindfolded women. They didn't flinch, their faces resigned to their fate.
The gun remained trained on them, the silence broken only by Elizabeth's ragged breathing and the frantic hammering of her heart. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.
She watched his finger tighten on the trigger.
BOOM!
Elizabeth screamed, her hands flying to her ears, her eyes squeezed shut. Her body convulsed.
She remained like that for what felt like an eternity, paralyzed by terror. Finally, driven by the desperate hope that she might somehow survive, she forced her eyes open.
The wall between Martha and Mary was now marred by a fresh bullet hole.
"And I missed," Sir Tansi said, his voice casual, almost bored. He turned to Elizabeth, holding out the gun. "Your turn. If you miss one, you'll replace her."
There was no room for argument.
Elizabeth had never imagined holding a pistol in her hand. Her mind went blank.
"Your time starts…" He glanced at his watch. "Now." He looked at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth entertained the idea of turning the gun on herself. Without a second thought, she pressed the muzzle to her temple, her finger hovering over the trigger. But Sir Tansi showed no reaction.
"I-I will- I'll shoot myself!" A tear escaped her eye, her trembling hand struggling to keep the gun steady. But her eyes were fierce. "Just let us go, please…"
Sir Tansi merely glanced at his watch, his expression unchanged. It was clear his patience was wearing thin. "Time's up. Now, you aim at both of them."
Elizabeth backed away from him as he approached, his dark eyes boring into her. The gun remained pressed against her head. "I-I can't—"
"Three," he began a countdown, his eyes locked on hers.
"Please—"
"Two."
"I'll change, I promise—"
"One."
Elizabeth pulled the trigger.
The gun was pointed at her head.
For a moment, silence reigned.
She waited for the searing pain, but it never came.
'A painless death? Heaven must be swift.'
After several seconds, she felt nothing. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The gun was still pressed against her temple.
No bullet.
Her eyes widened in shock. She threw the gun to the floor, realizing that if it had been loaded, she would be dead.
She looked at Sir Tansi. For a fleeting second, an emotion flickered across his face. Anger. He spoke, his voice dangerously low.
"You'd rather die than harm another?" He asked a question Elizabeth refused to answer. "Clearly, you have a lot to learn."