THE RED ROOMCHAPTER VIII. A Meeting with the Devil
Elina couldn't escape the haunting echo of Natasha's screams, the memory playing on an endless loop in her mind. Even as she sat in the darkened street, the mission ahead fading into the background, all she could think of was her sister-Natasha, bound and broken, her voice twisted in agony. The image was a cruel specter, clinging to Elina's thoughts, gnawing at her concentration, refusing to let go.
Zoya nudged her gently, breaking through the fog of Elina's distraction. "This is the place. You ready?"
Elina didn't trust her voice, so she merely nodded, steeling herself as they approached the building. This mission was supposed to be routine-get in, eliminate the target, get out. No complications, no distractions. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes. But something about tonight felt different, heavier, as if the air itself was thick with foreboding.
They slipped inside, entering through the cracked windows, their movements practiced and precise. The house they infiltrated was small, suffused with an eerie stillness that made every creak of the floorboards sound like a thunderclap. The walls were coated in a patchwork of moss, the green tendrils creeping like ivy, giving the place an ancient, almost forgotten feel. Statues, some weathered and others meticulously preserved, filled the space, their cold, unblinking eyes watching the intruders as they moved.
Zoya led the way, her footfalls almost imperceptible. Elina trailed behind, her attention torn between the mission and the oddities of the man's home. Each artifact, each relic seemed to whisper secrets, stories of a past long buried. Who was this man? What kind of life did he lead, surrounded by such strange and unsettling objects?
In the center of the room stood a cluster of computers, their screens dormant but the faint hum of electricity thrumming through the air. Elina felt an urge to investigate, to dig into the digital secrets they might hold, but she resisted, pushing aside the temptation. There would be time for that later-right now, the target was their priority.
After a thorough search, Zoya returned, her expression grim. "Nothing. He's not here."
Unusual. They scoured the house again, methodically, but the target seemed to have vanished into thin air. Frustrated, Elina's gaze drifted back to the computers, the dark screens now more enticing than ever. They were left unlocked, an invitation she could no longer ignore.
"Let's check these out," Elina suggested, her curiosity tinged with unease. Zoya agreed, and they approached the desk, where papers and notes lay scattered haphazardly.
The computer was locked, but it was the papers that caught Elina's attention. As she sifted through them, a cold knot formed in her stomach. There were photographs of children, their faces pale and frightened, bodies hooked up to sinister-looking machines. The notes detailed cruel experiments, the kind that made Elina's blood run cold. She handed the papers to Zoya, her hands shaking as she came across one particular file.
Project C-26. Nicknamed Cecelia. A young girl with the ability to produce a sonic scream. The photographs showed her strapped to a machine, wires snaking across her small frame. Elina's breath caught in her throat as she read the descriptions-this was beyond sickening. The words on the page blurred as her thoughts raced back to Natasha and the young brunette girl who had been with her.
"This is sick!" Elina's voice trembled with a mix of anger and horror.
But her outburst was abruptly cut short by the sharp sound of a *click*. The papers slipped from her grasp, fluttering to the floor like fallen leaves.
"I wouldn't use the word 'sick' to describe my work." The voice was calm, almost amused, as the target emerged from the shadows. Elina's heart pounded in her chest, her eyes locking onto his. Just as she feared, he had a weapon trained on her, the cold barrel aimed directly at her face.
Without hesitation, Elina knocked the gun from his hand and charged at him, her movements fueled by adrenaline. Zoya joined the fray, but the man was prepared. With a mere gesture, an unnatural force erupted from his hand, throwing the two women across the room like rag dolls. Elina's shoulder slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, pain radiating through her body as she struggled to regain her footing.
The man closed in on them, exploiting their moment of weakness. In no time, he had them restrained, heavy chains biting into their wrists as they were bound to chairs. They thrashed against their bonds, but escape seemed impossible.
"So, who sent you?" His voice was calm, almost conversational, as he circled them like a predator. Elina and Zoya remained silent, defiance burning in their eyes.
"Silence, then? Not the best choice in your situation, but I suppose it's understandable."
Elina's frustration boiled over. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He rolled his eyes, dismissing her anger with a wave of his hand. "I know how it looks, but you misunderstand. I'm helping those children. They're orphans, left to die on the streets. I'm giving them a chance, a purpose."
Zoya's glare could have cut steel. "By experimenting on them? Torturing them?"
He snapped back, his voice tinged with irritation. "I'm making them extraordinary! I started with myself, perfecting my methods. That's why incapacitating you two was so easy." He leaned in closer, his gaze boring into theirs. "Now, I've answered your question. It's only fair you answer mine. Who sent you?"
"Screw you!" Zoya spat, her voice laced with venom.
Unfazed, he straightened up and began gathering his papers, his expression one of mild disappointment. "No matter. I gave you the chance to cooperate. I'll be taking my leave now, but perhaps we'll meet again. Maybe next time, you'll be more willing to talk."
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving the two women bound and helpless.
Panic set in as they frantically searched for a way out of their chains. Zoya's eyes darted around the room, her gaze finally settling on the exposed wiring running along the walls.
"This place is wired to explode!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with urgency. Elina cursed under her breath. They were on a ticking clock.
Desperation fueled her as she scoured the room for something-anything-that could help them escape. Her eyes landed on a small key hanging just out of reach. She strained against her bonds, managing to knock the key loose with a desperate lunge. Grasping it with trembling fingers, she unlocked her chains and then freed Zoya.
They bolted from the house, their feet pounding against the floor as they raced against time. Just as they cleared the threshold, the building erupted into flames, a fiery inferno consuming everything within.
Elina and Zoya stood in the street, chests heaving, the heat of the explosion searing their skin. They exchanged a glance, both of them acutely aware of how close they had come to death.
And the bitter taste of failure lingered in the air-another mission, another opportunity lost.
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The Art of Revenge
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