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Christina's heart dropped into her gut. Her feet glued themselves to the floor, fearful that one sudden move would have the man pull the trigger.

"Don't scream or I'll shoot," he ordered.

"Ok. Ok. We won't," Anya squealed raising her hands for surrender.

"Silence," he said tugging on his ski mask. She could see beads of sweat dripping into his hard eyes.

"What do you want?" Christina urged to ask.

The gun shifted to her and her gut stiffened. "You."

"Me?"

"No you can't have her," Anya said. To Christina's shock weaved her way in front of her.

The man's lips peering through the hole in the mask stretched into a mad man's clever smile.

"When I leave here lovely, she will be with me."

"Why's that?" Christina said. "What am I to you?"

"More than you can imagine," he grumbled. Then he glanced down the hall. "Sheka," he shouted making them both jump.

Christina's ears itched recognizing the word and the language it came from. She gasped in disbelief. "Hurry? That's Valeeran."

The gunman's eyes widened for a second confirming her suspicions.

How is that possible? Maybe Valeera is a private island somewhere on Earth that she had visited once as a child and continued to dream about it. Only, her dreams expanded into an imaginary realm with mystical beings. It was the only possible answer to why this place continued to pop up.

Rushed footsteps approached and a younger man exited the hallway carrying a full sac. The second burglar had not put on his ski mask right for strands of his bleachy blonde hair poked out like needles in every direction. Wide blue eyes too light and shiny to be natural screamed his fear and anxiety as they jumped from Christina to Anya.

"Oh no," he cried voice thick with the familiar Valeeran accent. "They showed."

"Of course they did tu toidi," the gunman said with a natural eastern American voice.

She furrowed her eyebrows both confused and anxious. Then she spotted her mom's bag that possessed the toddler's dress hanging from the burglar's shoulder.

"Hey that's mines," she shouted. For a second she forgot about the gun aimed at her face and took a step towards the burglar prepared to rip it off his shoulder. The gunman gave a demanding shout, repositioning the gun to her face, and stepping in her path.

"Hey. Hey. Look take whatever you want, but you can't have that bag."

"Oh don't worry. You'll be tagging along. Come on," he ordered waving the gun.

Anya stood her ground. "No. Take what you want and leave or I will scream."

The gunman gave an irritated growl, stepped forward, and struck Anya across the face. She squealed caressing her cheek.

"Anya," Christina shouted and pierced the gunman with her sharp eyes. "You bastard."

He grabbed Anya by the arm and held the gun to her temple. The woman's legs trembled and she cringed in fear.

"I'm not going to say it again. Move it," he said.

"Alright," she said the unnatural heat in her veins slithering into her shaking bones. "Let her go first."

"No. I'm going to keep lovely here until we are outside. If you make a single sound, I will shoot her."

"Okay, just chill," she said edging her way to the door giving Anya a look of assurance.

Christina took the lead, wondering if she did scream and wake the neighbors would the gunman really shoot Anya? After having her mom taken from her, she didn't want to take any chances to lose another good person. Taking the elevator, they went outside and she followed the younger burglar into an alley under the shadows of fences. To her hatred and surprise, no one was around to see this happen.

A black car sat in the alleyway where the trunk popped open on its own. However, as they got closer, Christina could see there was someone in the driver's seat. She spun around and swallowed her heart.

"Okay. Now let her go. I won't get any closer to the car until you release Anya."

"No keep moving," he ordered.

She took a few steps, scanning the area for an escape passage. She growled inside, hating the feeling of vulnerability. The gunman cursed and held the gun to Anya's head. Obeying was the only smart thing to do until the right moment presented itself.

"Why don't we make a deal, huh?" she said raising her hands to show surrender.

"No deal. Get into the trunk."

Her heart leaped into her throat. She shook her head.

"What did I say? I will shoot."

"We need to go now," the young burglar said throwing the sac into the trunk.

The gunman's eyes narrowed. He swung Anya to the side into a wooden fence and aimed the gun at her head.

"Get in the trunk," he demanded. "Get in the trunk now!"

Anya took that moment to slide out of the gun's aim, grab the gunman's arm, and raised the weapon to the sky.

"Bang," the gun went off in the air.

"Run Christina," Anya screamed.

The last thing she wanted to do was leave her friend behind to fight. She kicked the burglar in the legs almost close to his manhood. He cringed and fumbled against the car. To her surprise, he didn't fight back. She charged at the gunman as he and Anya struggled with the gun. She unleashed an array of punches. He grunted, sending his elbow crashing against her cheek.

"Agh," she yelped stumbling backwards.

Bang! The gun went off, popping her ears. She spun around and her stomach heaved. Time slowed to a single pulse as Anya hunched over and fell to the ground. Every muscle in her body constricted and a gush of wild heat spewed to life in her veins.

"No," she screamed.

The gunman gave a wicked smirk through his mask, pulled and deranged. She clenched her teeth prepared to charge and rip the man's throat out. Then a large shadow hovered above her out of nowhere. Something hard struck the back of her head. The world cut to whiteness.

 The world cut to whiteness

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