Being forced to face the ground wasn't Cynthia's favourite past-time. Nor was being searched for weapons. Cynthia got a feeling the boy searching her enjoyed finding the little, ceramic-handled knife nestled in her bra strap a bit too much.
"Pervert," she muttered. He just grinned and forced her head to the floor. Behind her head she could hear the person from the hotel searching her laptop.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Exactly. I'm innocent." Cynthia protested.
"A likely story. We havn't accused you yet and you're already protesting your innocenc. Why? Hmm..."
"Dunno. Accuse me and I'll think of an answer."
He knelt down and put his mouth to her ear, "you don't seem to have got the message miss Sparrowhawk." Lightly he pecked her on the ear.
Cynthia froze and assessed the situation.
- she was being held down by a wanker of a pervert.
- there was a fucking psycho in the room.
- they accosiated themselves with the likes of life.
Fuck.
"What's this?" The man exclaimed in mock surprise, "a terrabyte worth of information."
"There's a password." Rang out a familiar voice.
"We could break it..." the man considered.
"Yeah, right." Cynthia scoffed.
"Marc! The hammer!" He called.
"Yessir." There was a short pause and Cynthia lay in shock, unable to process what had just occurred.
"There are... less traditional ways of obtaining, and - regrettably - losing information, miss Sparrowhawk."
Crash!
Cynthia jolted and was consequently held down more firmly than before. With every swing of the hammer the same happened until Cynthia was indented into the marmoleum.
A pair of shiny, black shoes appeared at her head.
"You are going to regret not following the path life set out for you, miss Sparrowhawk; trust us, we know." He smartly spun on his heels and Cynthia heard him leave.
"Boss says we gotta take you with us." The pervert grunted and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.
Cynthia had been in more elegant positions.
She noticed Marc.
Marc who was standing, hammer hanging limply at one side.
Marc next to the debris that had contained her entire life.
The working progress that was her life.
Marc. The betrayer.
...
He glanced her way and mouthed two words at her.
Cynthia didn't want to know.
YOU ARE READING
Working Progress
ActionA story about a girl whose life doesn't seem to give her any answers, and where life itself wants to control her. Needless to say she tries to rebel against it's plan for her.
