Separated

Chapter 11 - Minori

New Chapter!!!🕗

Denial stage? 🤭😉

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter
🐬🐢
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Disorientated, I try to open my eyes as I feel someone shaking me and yelling my name. Weird, the touch once again, doesn't faze me.

"Minori, can you hear me?" The person questions as I fully regain my vision.

Oh, it was the Russian person.

"Yes." I reply as I try to sit upright and take in my surroundings.

Gone were the lavish design interior, replaced by rubble. Shards of glass still glint from the limited light source from the moon, while furnitures, parts of the walls and ceilings are scattered across the whole place haphazardly.

"What happened?" I ask, not being able to comprehend how this happened in the first place. With so many different crime organizations, it was unlikely one lone enemy faction decide to take such drastic course of action here. That wasn't going to help them in the long run given they just made enemies with several more, many of which mercy doesn't belong in their vocabulary.

"Someone decided blowing up the place with everyone in attendance. Whatever this is, they've signed their own death certificates." The man who I was with moments before I blacked out and presumably shoved me aside before I met my own death from a falling chandelier, comments.

"Are there any ways we could get out of here?"

"If you want to jump out from 8 feet? Then yeah sure."

"Have you seen anyone around?"

"Yeah, the bodies on the floor." He deadpans motioning at the few unmoving bodies on the floor in a pool of blood a few feet across from us. I was often told I too, must be void of emotions if I didn't feel any sense of remorse for the dead but in all honesty I was glad. Because I actually do have emotions and have attachment issues. If that applied to every single human being, I would be a crumbling being. Perhaps not even human by then.

"Do you usually flow your sentences with sarcasm?" I question, getting a little annoyed with his attitude.

"No, not often."

"Then do you mind if you utilise your usual mannerism?"

"And what makes you think that's a better option?"

"I'm not used to sarcasm, but I am used to threats. Both empty and intended."

"So you'd rather threats than light sarcasm?"

"Are you sure there are no other ways to get out?" I divert not bothering to be on such pointless topic. Why was this person caught up on the fact I don't like sarcasm? Out of all the pressing concerns he should be using his mind with, he was now interested with my likes and dislikes. Was he actually busy with getting the top seat?

He gives me a look. A look I wasn't sure what it meant, but a look nonetheless before sighing deeply like I happened to be a troublesome child and he was my parent.

"Us finding a way out will take much longer than our people finding us. I'm sure that brother of yours would go through fire to find you."

Now what he was saying actually had credit. My brother could and would do just that. For someone who doesn't fully understand emotions, he felt guilt just fine. He did not cope well with not being able to protect me. And that only happened twice. Ever. And that happened to be that one time as well as the situation I was currently in.