More than a Cure || The Last of Us

Book One, Chapter 1: Everything Happens for a Reason

{Book ONE: The Aldana Twins}

Narrator's P.O.V:

The heel of a man's combat boots scraped against the pavement of this enclosed room of concrete walls as his arm dragged a metal chair behind him.

"I'm going to ask you one more time." He declares deeply, his eyes paved towards the restrained young woman, who stands herself up from the cold, concrete ground - stepping forward before her body resisted due to the chains clipped on her wrists and ankles.

As sweat accumulated on her forehead, the two pieces of her braided curls stuck to the side of her cheeks as the rest of her medium length curls were braided into crown rows that made their way up to hold her brown curls in a secured ponytail. The rest of her curls swayed across her mid-back, with a few pieces resting upon her shoulders as her head turns in a swivel.

"Where are the rest of you?"
The blonde haired man finally asks, impatience building in his tone as he throws the chair in front of the woman in an attempt to startle her, nipping the tip of his finger with a lengthy blade.

Her deep-azure eyes narrow intensely at the man in front of her, analyzing everything up until the very last freckle of his face.

'This asshole's trained.' She thought. 'There's a reason this guy is here to interrogate me. I need to find an opening: either piss him off to get him close or play along to lure him in.'

"I already fuckin' told you," The woman speaks, rattling about the chains as she purses her lip. "There are no more of us."

'Let's try pissing him off.' The woman snickers to herself.

"Really? You expect me to believe that with all the gear we found you with, that you're just a harmless trespasser? You were carrying high class old-world military weapons that not even the government's top soldiers would've used. Ah, and let's not forget the most important part, you almost killed a squad of our best men and women. You and your little boyfriend-"

"Where is he?!" The young woman grunts, stepping forward only for the recoil of the chains to push her back slightly, ignoring the man's assertions.

The blonde-haired man leans back into the metal chair, placing his leg on top of the other by his ankle.

"Temper, temper." He then stands himself up from the chair, the woman's hands balling up into frustrating fists simultaneously.

The caramel-skinned woman readjusts herself on her own two feet, daringly testing him, "You wanna see temper, blondie?"

The dirty-blonde man with the fancy undercut chuckles to himself. "Well, when you give me what I want, I'll give you what you want."

He grumbles, slipping his lengthy blade into the back of his khaki jeans.

The woman bites down on her tongue fiercely to remain silent, glaring her infuriated yet sorrowful eyes at the man as he pulls the door shut behind him.

The 'clang' of the door widened the young woman's eyes as she lowers her face towards the floor. The reality of the situation has finally been wrought upon her.
"Jev... how are we getting out of this one?"

---

Ellie's P.O.V:

I felt the drool on the side of my mouth as the door of my room-house (house that's a room) thumps my head every second. I groan as I consume my face into my pillow. "Ughhhh...."

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELLIE!!" A feminine voice screams from the other end, her fist continuing to rhythmically knock against the door. "Come on, we're going to be late for our rounds!!!"