Predator

36

The moment the man finished speaking, faint, deliberately muffled footsteps echoed from the hallway diagonally opposite the factory building. Liam, who was used to dealing with jungles, almost instantly noticed. He quickly pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling Mike to keep silent, then reached for the switch by the corner, and with a "click," turned off the light.

In the darkness, only the dense smell of blood filled the air.

A petite figure, clad in oversized clothing, cautiously approached the factory, tiptoeing with each step—heading toward where the man and the elephant were.

The purpose was clear, Mike.

Slender white hands grasped the iron elephant cage, pausing to observe and contemplate, coincidentally locking eyes with a pair of bright eyes in the darkness.

"Ah!" The girl let out a scream, quickly swallowing it back down once she realized.

"It's me."

A familiar voice came from the corner.

"..."

The man still didn't turn on the light, and the smell of blood lingered in the air.

"What, planning to run again?"

Amelia reflexively shook her head—

"I wanted to come down and check on Mike."

Given Liam's usual temperament, such a flimsy lie would normally be seen through instantly, and she would have been caught and locked up. But this time, he seemed unusually silent, squatting quietly in the corner of the iron cage, like an isolated monument.

The girl had a bold guess in her mind.

"Why don't you turn on the light?"

The man chuckled softly, "I don't like it."

"But without the light, I can't see Mike."

Amelia cautiously took two steps along the wall, moving into a dark corner that the moonlight couldn't reach.

A nauseatingly sweet smell suddenly filled her nose. She suppressed the strange feeling and groped for the switch—

The moment the light turned on, both the man and the beast were momentarily blinded by the light, and Mike even snorted in displeasure. The elephant watched the two standing still like statues, chewing a mouthful of dry hay impatiently.

As she had hoped countless times in her dreams, the man was covered in blood, crisscrossed with whip marks and several gaping wounds from hooks.

He leaned against the cage, panting, his firm, tanned chest heaving violently, with disinfectant alcohol, medicinal powder, and bandages at his feet.

He was still breathing, calling her just like during the day, "Amelia, come here."

"Do you know how to apply medicine?"

As she got closer, the man frowned instead, "You're not wearing shoes?"

The girl's feet were on the cold concrete floor, with some mud and grass clinging to her toes.

His bloodstained hands gripped her feet, the warmth pressing against the cold soles, "You can't run far without shoes."

Amelia didn't argue back or try to lie anymore. She bent down, picked up the alcohol, and opened the lid. The smell of alcohol wafted up, her pupils trembling slightly, as if she had made up her mind. She began to clean each wound with the alcohol.

The biggest wound was on the man's abdomen. Using this as an excuse, she lifted his shirt, glancing at a small antler-shaped scar on his belly.

It looked familiar, but she couldn't remember.

"How did you get this?"

Liam chuckled lowly, pointing behind him at the innocent-looking Mike, "Ask him. These methods, the elephants know better than people."

"Did they use those methods on you?" Amelia frowned, "Why?"

"No reason." His brown eyes drifted into the darkness, "It's not something you should worry about."

"Is it because of that shot?"