Bounty Hunter

Reed

The dungeon was a claustrophobic, dank chamber, suffused with an almost palpable sense of dread. The air, thick with the stench of mildew and decay, makes each breath a struggle. Flickering lights cast sickly yellow pools of illumination, but a vast section of the room remain shrouded in darkness.

The walls, lined with rough, cold concrete was stained with ominous, rusty streaks. Chains hang from the ceiling, their heavy links clinking softly in an unseen draft, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. I walk into the dungeon and my stomach churned in disgust. The floor is littered with discarded, rotting food and faeces.

In one corner, a threadbare cloth lies on the ground, surrounded by makeshift restraints. And there she was; my woman, my little flower, naked, bound, terrified and bruised.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Zinnia,” the words came out my mouth in a whisper. An ocean of tears gathered in my eyes as I slowly tiptoed towards the love of my life. When she head footsteps, she gasps and shifted behind, curling in her petite silhouette. Something inside me shattered in a thousand pieces at the fact that my little flower, a greater part of my being, was scared of me.

“My little flower,” I call her by her pet name, hoping that she would come to and realise it’s me and that I wouldn’t hurt her. Instead, she freaks out, dipping her head into her knee cap.

“Zinnia, baby, it’s me,” I say in a calm tone.

“No, please…. Not again…. No, please… Please…. Just…” My little flowers says in between sobs. She curls further backwards, her small bruised body colliding with the wall. It didn’t matter that her back was pressed against the wall if it meant she could escape through it.

“Zinnia, it’s me baby,” I go to approach her when suddenly someone appears behind me. A sharp pain cursed through my body at the knife that impaled my shoulders. I grunted, welcoming the pain with desire. I turned, staring at who had stabbed me. I came face to face with a small figure that visibly shrunk as I approached him.

“I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to,” he cries, shifting backwards. I used my right hand to pull out the knife that he impaled in me. Throwing the knife in the corner of the room, I grabbed him by the neck. My hands tightened around his neck, sucking all air from his nostrils. I bumped his back at the wall, slowly lifting him up. The feel of life leaving his body was like fresh adrenaline and as both his hand grabbed mine, begging for a release, my hold tightened.

Another sharp pain cursed through my body. Instantaneously, I release the man, turning to see my little flower shift backwards, the crimson from my shoulder covering her small hands. Realising what she’d done, she begins to shift backwards, fear evident in her eyes.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she cries out.

“For fuck sakes I’m not gonna fucking hurt you, Zinnia!” I yelled out. My little flower covers her hand over her head. Instant guilt washes over me for having yelled at her. Having forgotten about the man whom I almost strangled to death, I seize my little flower, forcefully wrapping my arms around her despite her struggling to escape. She fought and screamed, jabbing her fist against my chest and when her attempts seemed futile, she began to relax.

“There, there, I got you,” I soothed her by caressing her hair. When my little flower had fully calmed down, I scooped her in my arms, using my left hand to support her weight whilst my right hand held my gun.

I turned and noticed that the man who was in the cell had crawled out. I ignored his disappearance and dugged my head outside, ensuring that it was safe for me to step out. With not a soul lurking in the dimly lit hallway, and despite the active sound of gun shots above, I walked through the hallway, heading for the secret exit that one of the captives had led me in on.

The door was at a far end and the path to it was even darker than I had imagined. I let my imagination guide me and at the slightest movement, I fired a shot. Once I reached the end of the hallway, I used my leg and forcefully pushed the door. It flew open.

The fresh cool breeze of the evening that caressed my cheeks felt heavenly after being within the walls of that rotten place. Barely minutes inside there and I felt like I had been deprived of respiration, I couldn’t begin to fathom what my little flower has been through. I followed the route that led back to the shore where the tug boat anchored.

The men that followed us was the least of my concern, I assumed they could handle themselves. Clearly, the Bull would understand that casualties occur during missions. By the time I made it to the tug boat, Reaper was already there with the girl who told me where to find Zinnia.

“Roman was nowhere in sight,” he says as I laid Zinnia to rest on the cold surface of the boat. I took out my jacket and wrapped it over her then took her in my arms. After that, I turn my attention to Reaper.

“Roman is the least of my concern now. But, he won’t run for ever. Sooner or later, he will come here to inspect the damage I caused and I will be waiting for him,” I replied. Reaper nodded in acknowledgement.

Just like me, he didn’t ask about the men that accompanied us. Those who survived will find their way out, and those who didn’t, well, their families will be heavily compensated for their loyalty.

“Is she okay?” I asked, pointing my head at the girl who laid unconscious next to Reaper.

“She will be okay, although barely conscious,” Reaper replies as he powered the boat, swirled the steering port side and took off. I direct my attention back to my little flower, hoping that she will be able to overcome the trauma she experienced being locked up.

______