𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 || 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟏 : 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤

I stood frozen in terror, my feet rooted to the cracked asphalt of the warehouse's sketchy backyard. The once-white wedding dress I was forced to wear now felt like a suffocating shroud, its delicate lace and satin heavy with the weight of my desperation. My hands trembled as I clutched the dress's skirt, the fabric rustling softly in the gentle breeze like a mournful sigh.

The sky above was a brilliant blue, not a cloud in sight, a cruel mockery of the turmoil brewing inside me. The backyard, a neglected expanse of overgrown weeds and rusty machinery, stretched out before me like a barren wasteland. Beyond the chain-link fence, the forest loomed, its dense canopy a vibrant green, promising escape and freedom. Yet, I knew it was a promise I dared not trust. They would find me, no matter how far I ran.

My heart racing, I glanced frantically around the yard, searching for any sign of rescue, any glimmer of hope. But I was alone, utterly and completely alone. The warehouse loomed behind me, its crumbling facade seeming to press in on me, making my skin crawl. I knew I had to move, to try and escape, but my legs felt like lead, refusing to budge. All I could do was stand there, frozen in fear, and hope against hope that someone, anyone, would come and save me before it was too late.

I mumbled the words "Where are you, Toji?" my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. The priest, a man who was supposed to be a symbol of calm and tranquility, seemed nervous and on edge, his eyes darting back and forth between the men standing nearby, their guns a menacing presence that seemed to suck the air out of the atmosphere.

I watched Ryan and Ken conversing in hushed tones. I was standing far away from everyone, a sense of isolation and disconnection washing over me like a cold wave. The men with guns seemed to be watching me, their eyes cold and unyielding.

Ken approached me, his eyes locked onto mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a glimmer of pity there, a flicker of empathy that seemed to suggest he understood my desperation, my terror. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a mask of detachment, a reminder that he was bound by duty, forced to follow Ryan's orders, no matter how monstrous they seemed.

Ken's hand closed around mine, his grip firm but not unkind, as he pulled me forward, toward the nightmare that awaited me. "The wedding is about to start," he said, his voice low and expressionless, as if he was simply stating a fact, rather than condemning me to a fate worse than death.

"No, please," I begged, trying to dig my heels into the ground, to stop the inexorable march toward the altar. "You can't make me do this. You can't make me marry him."

Ken's face remained impassive, his eyes avoiding mine. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have no choice."

Ryan smiled, a cold, calculating smile, as I was dragged in front of him, my heart heavy with despair, my soul crushed by the weight of my circumstances. "My bride looks so beautiful," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyes gleaming with triumph, as if he had already won, as if I was already his.

"You can't do this," I spat, trying to summon up some last vestige of defiance. "I won't marry you. I won't be your wife."

Ryan's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, but you will," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You will, because you have no choice. And once you're my wife, you'll do exactly as I say. Won't you, my dear?"

The priest began the wedding ceremony, his voice droning on, a monotone chant that seemed to echo through the desolate landscape of my soul. I stood there, frozen in horror, my eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. My heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces, each one piercing me with a fresh wave of despair.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Ryan and his bride," the priest intoned, his voice devoid of emotion.

I felt like I was going to be sick. "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I won't do it."

Ryan's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, but you will," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You'll do exactly as I say, or... well, let's just say you won't be leaving here alive."

The men surrounding us shifted uncomfortably, their guns still trained on me. I knew I was trapped, with no escape in sight.

The priest continued his voice a monotone drone. "If anyone here knows of any reason why this couple should not be married, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

I opened my mouth to speak, to scream, to beg for mercy. But my voice was frozen in my throat, unable to escape. Ryan's eyes seemed to bore into my soul, warning me to stay silent.

Just as the priest was about to pronounce us husband and wife, a loud explosion erupted out of nowhere, shattering the tense silence that had hung over the ceremony like a dark cloud. The ground shook beneath our feet, and the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass filled the air.

The men surrounding us sprang into action, their faces set in grim determination as they rushed toward the source of the explosion. Ryan's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in anger, as he pulled out his weapon and turned to Ken.

"Throw her back in the cellar," he barked, his voice low and menacing. "Now."

Ken hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards me with a fleeting expression of sympathy. But then he nodded, his face hardening into a mask of obedience, and reached out to grab my arm.

Just as Ken was about to drag me away, a man came running towards us, his face flushed with excitement and fear. "Ryan, we're under attack!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. "There's a bunch of people attacking our patrols at the warehouse. They're trespassing, and they're armed!"

Ryan's face darkened, his eyes blazing with anger. "How many?" he growled.

"I don't know, but more than five," the man replied. "We need to get out of here, now."

Ryan nodded, his jaw clenched in determination. "Take care of the situation," he barked. "I'll take care of her."

Ken's grip on my arm tightened, and he began to drag me away. I struggled and kicked, but he was too strong. As we disappeared into the darkness of the cellar, I heard the sound of gunfire and shouting growing fainter in the distance.