*FEATURED PREVIOUSLY ON WATTPAD PICKS* In a time far off in the future, there are no lands, nor countries, nor strife. Cities hover in the sky. Robots are on every street corner. And life in the great metropolis of New Ramona thrives under the leade...
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EVE
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"What should we do with her?"
"Toss her in the cellar."
Rough hands, gruff voices, rickety stairs. Eve first became aware of a pain in the back of her head. Throbbing. Where was she?
"She's coming around. Toss her."
For a split second, Eve was suspended in the air, then she hit the hard, wooden floor with an oomph!
Blurry shapes and a wedge of light entered her darkness. She blinked, focusing the image, just in time to see the door to the cellar close. The darkness engulfed her once again.
Thankfully, her captors had been kind enough to leave her untied. Eve sat up slowly, still dizzy from being knocked out. As soon as she was able, she felt around her make-shift prison.
Four walls made of cold and hard cement–at least a few inches thick. There'd be no escape there. Next she turned to the door. There was a crack of light under it. Eve put one eye to the ground and peered through the crack.
Someone was standing directly in front of the door. He was wearing dyed, black leather shoes with a brown stripe. Not a sailor then. A sailor couldn't afford those shoes.
Another set of boots entered the scene. Scarface.
"She's in there, Boss."
An instinct warned her and Eve scooted away from the door just before it slammed open. The light she'd so craved earlier momentarily blinded her with its brilliance.
Scarface blocked the entrace of the doorway. He was smiling, daring her to try and run for it. Eve wasn't stupid.
The other man, the rich one, captured her attention by speaking, "Hey girlie."
He was clean-shaved, well-dressed, and looked like he would be around forty years old. But he was probably older. Appearances were decieving after all.
The man snapped his fingers. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going ask you some questions. You're gonna answer them. And you're gonna keep spilling your guts until I tell you to stop. Got it?"
Eve, in her characteristic way, said nothing.
He gestured to Scarface to take out a knife and then leaned forward with the knife in hand. "Got itgirlie?"
Scumbag. Bully. Predator. Eve had encountered enough of his kind in her past. She knew that any resistance would be futile at this stage. Better to wait, plan, and target his weak point. "Yes Boss."
He leaned back, "Good. Now, I want to know, who are you?"
"Evelyn Warner."
Eve saw a flash of silver, then a sharp pain as the knife grazed her cheek and clattered as it hit the wall behind her.
