Abel was gurgling desperately, water splashing everywhere. I grit my teeth, stepping behind the torturer.
"You." I said, my voice low.
He turned, dropping the bucket to take a swing at me. I jumped backwards, scrabbling on the wet floor. His fist came at my jaw and I dodged backwards.
"Is this the Russians?" The man said mockingly to Abel. Abel, who was suffocating on the wet rag which kept in the water.
I kicked the torturer in the balls, darting around him to reach Abel. I almost had the cloth off, when the man grabbed me by the waist and threw me to the concrete floor. I felt my hip snap, healed it, and leapt to my feet.
"Huh?"
I slammed my fist into his face. Being around for as long as I had, you knew how to throw a good punch. He staggered back, then countered with a fist towards my eye. I leaned sideways, it missed my face by inches, but he'd used his other fist to ram my solar plexus, stealing my breath. There was no real damage to fix, but plenty of pain.
I ignored it, using his momentum to slam his forehead into my knee. He moaned, staggering back. Slipping around him, I tore the cloth from Abel's face, and he gasped, coughing up a heap of water. The movement was instinctive; he was unconscious.
The man grabbed me from behind, clutching my neck. I froze.
"Now be a good girl, and stay still." He told me. "You're going to tell me exactly what this is about."
He fingers tightened. "Or else." His breath brushed against the hairs on the back of my neck.
I crashed my head backwards, hitting his nose with a crack. He pulled my neck down leftwise, I felt muscles tear and spinal disc fracture. I tried to gasp through his constricting fingers. It was white-hot pain. He dropped me to the floor, my head jarring against it. The world went black.
When I came to, the man had turned to Abel, checking his pulse and grunting acknowledgment.
I fixed my neck, my head already healed, and slowly rose. I cat-footed my way to the racks by the door.
There, on the rack, was a foot-long, steel fire poker. I picked it up. Snuck up behind the torturer.
CRACK!
He was on the ground. I took a deep breath.
Then I hurried to Abel's side.
YOU ARE READING
Three Wishes: This didn't go as planned!
FantasíaAbel is a daydreamer. Things that will never happen, the impossible, are planned neatly in his head, while the possible is left up to chance. However, the impossible becomes possible when Able finds a magic oil-lamp in his grandparent's basement la...
