I try to get up but wince from the pain pounding through my skull, my long hair falling like a curtain around my face. I pry my eyes open, colourful spots flashing through my skull, pain lancing from the back of it.
Like a heavy weight is pulling it back down, my head slams back down, the pain lancing through my skull back with a vengeance.
The world is hazy, like someone has fogged up a window and I am looking through it.
I try to push myself up again, but something pulls me back down, my arms restrained. I suck in a gasp, and pull at my arms again, but they feel like dead weight. I peek around and see the ropes bound to my wrists, tightly trapping me to a metal table.
I groan into the harsh surface, the pounding in my skull growing. I look around the room, the haze weakening to show the harsher features of the room.
My eyes latch onto Archer, his body slumped against the wall, almost looking as if he's dead.
"Archer?" His name comes out choked, almost gravely before I say it again, "Archer?!"
He has bruises all over him, his jaw black and blue, blood crusted around his split lip.
My heart pounds incessantly under my skin, so harsh I can hear it in my ears, drowning out any other noise I might be able to hear.
I focus hard, my eyes narrowed on his body and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his chest move.
He's breathing. He's breathing.
I glance around the rest of the room, finding it otherwise empty, only Archer and I present. I'm strapped to a table and Archer is bound by ropes against the wall, though he doesn't look like he'd be able to move much anyway with the bruises and blood marring his body.
The room is different than the others we had been in, the ones Dimitri had kept us in.
This room was more spacious, less dungeon looking, brighter. Yet this I felt was more dangerous to be in than the darkness.
I rest my head back on the table, watching as Archer's chest rises up and down, counting the breaths just to be sure he was breathing.
The squeak of the hinges are loud in the deathly quiet, my attention snapping to the door as it opens. The woman from before enters, a white dress adorning her body.
The bruises under her eyes seem to have darkened and she scratches at the inside of her elbow, only stopping when her blue eyes catch mine.
Her eyes darken, glancing over my body as a sneer starts to stain her lips.
"Hello, Agent Eleven."
I don't answer, it felt useless to try and fight. We were on a ship, in the middle of god knows where and had been for the last few weeks.
Her face twitches at my silence, her red stained lips curling as her blue eyes travel down my trapped form.
Two men walk in after her and she snaps her fingers at them, they start forward. One clicks free a small hunting knife. The other holds my head down against the table, the pounding in my head growing tenfold. The one with the knife grabs the hem of my shirt and drags the knife along the fabric, splitting it in half and ripping it from my body, the tip of the blade running along my skin.
"I want her unscathed!" Scarlett hisses as the knife leaves a small nick, blood swelling.
The blade lifts from my skin with a hissed groan from the wielder.
"I need a fresh canvas if I am to have any fun." Scarlett chuckles.
I'm left in only my pants and bra, the coldness of the metal table kissing at my exposed skin.
