A Secret Untold

Chapter 1

Selene's POV

 It happened again.

The same dream.

The same people.

The same pain.

The only difference was how I killed him. I woke up with sweat covering my body as the sun began to rise. The familiar time blinked from the alarm clock. 4:59 a.m. I ripped the sheets off my body, gasping as the cold stung my skin. The sunshine peeked through the red curtains, slowly sneaking into the room as more time passed and lighting it up. I got up, the sound of my feet slapping against the floor filling up the otherwise quiet room as I walked toward my backpack was thrown carelessly across the floor. I blindly grabbed an outfit and made my way to the cramped up bathroom on the far side of the room

I began my morning routine. Entering the bathroom, I shed my clothes off my body before entering the shower. Dirt covered the walls as the metal parts of the shower rusted, a brown layer covering the once shiny surface. The cold water hit me unexpectedly, a shiver coursing my body as goosebumps followed close behind before it turned warm. Blood swirled into the drain. Limp, my body slumped against the wall, unable to stand any longer. A dull pain ached where the bullet entered. It made no difference.

With unconscious movements, I washed with the soap provided by the hotel. My eyes fixed at one spot the whole entire time, my thoughts draining along with the blood, water, and dirt. It was not long until I shut the water, exited the shower and looked at the mirror.

The face greeting me was a mess. Dark circles under my eyes, a fresh cut on my cheek. Sighing, I grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a piece of tissue and began cleaning the side of my hip where the bullet entry glistened. I winced in pain as the solution stung when it made contact with the hole. I grabbed the bandages I stole from the veterinary clinic the other night and carefully wrapped my waist multiple times. Once the wound was carefully treated, I slipped in my clothes, checking the clock beside the bed. 5:34 a.m. I ran a hand through my hair before grabbing my shoes from different parts of the room. I looked around the room to make sure I left nothing behind before grabbing my backpack, stuffing my clothes from the other night, and heading my way out of the hotel room.

The sun was still rising as I trudged my way toward the subway. People were ushering down the stairs, trying to not miss their train to work. I quickly shuffled underground and put on my sunglasses, headphones, and covered it up with the hoodie on the back of my black sweater. There was an array of different types of people tonight. Businessmen, homeless people, students. Oh, and the FBI agents. Six pursued me. Scratch that. Seven. Four behind me. One on the right dressed as a homeless person while two people blocked the exited, dressed as ordinary day-to-day people. The last one leaned against a pole in the middle of the metro station wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket. I was supposedly trapped.

The world went quiet before Whats Up Danger blasted into my ears. There were still two minutes to spare. I took out a five dollar bill from the back of my jean pockets and headed toward the vending machine. The seven of them stood close by, each trying to be inconspicuous. Choosing a snickers bar, I inserted the dollar bill and waited as the chocolate bar was released from its entrapment. It hit the bottom when the conductor announced the doors of the metro train to be closing.

"Stand clear of the closing doors," resounded. In that instant, I grabbed the Snickers bar and ran towards the closing doors of the Metro train, leaving the change. At the same time, all seven FBI agents turned toward my direction and took out their guns. I ducked into the crowd which seemed to not notice the guns yet. One FBI agent sprang in front of me with their gun cocked.

"Put your hands in the air. There's no escape!" he ordered. The gun was a few inches in front of me. In one swift move, I grabbed the gun with my left hand and pushed it away from me, redirecting the line of fire so that it would miss me if he pulled the trigger. Which he did, making the crowd around us scream in terror and run to the exits. I then stepped forward and punched him in the face, retracted my right hand and snatched the gun before hitting him once more but this time in the throat, making him fall to his knees as he struggled to breathe. I glanced at the arm at my hand and shoved it in my pocket with disgust. Another FBI agent came dangerously close, but I was aware of the fact that they had to bring me in alive, not dead.

How stupid.

I back kicked the FBI agent, grabbed his shirt and punched his chin which sent him flying backward. Two more FBI agents surrounded me with their guns aimed at my chest. I knew for a fact though that the FBI men could shoot me if it disabled my ability to continue harming them or the public as long as I did not die. But I decided to risk it. I grabbed the guitar a musician begging for money left behind and smashed it on the side of the FBI on the right. The impact was so hard the FBI fell to the side, the broken guitar with him. It was just enough to distract his partner, to which I grabbed the knife lodged in my leg strap and threw it on at the side of his thigh. It hit its target. He yelled in pain but still held the gun steadfast. I moved close enough when he screeched in pain that I was able to kick the gun out of his hand with a spinning hook kick, removed the knife stuck in his leg and banged the hilt of the blade to his head, dropping him unconscious.

Unfortunately, those who I left behind recovered and the five of them surrounded me. The train was behind me. So close, but too far away. Every time they mess with me, they expect something different. Perhaps that I will turn myself in willingly. Again;

How stupid.

Luckily, a boy walking towards the exit, following the crowd, seemed to not understand why everyone was in such a panic or at least did not seem bothered by the commotion. He was close enough that I dropped to the floor, the men spontaneously shooting in my direction but missing by a hair, and extended my leg far enough to reach him and swung, making him trip against my foot. But just before he smacked face first into the floor, I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him up. I put him in a tight headlock, not tight enough to choke him but enough for him to know that I was not playing any games. He gasped in shock but otherwise stayed still in my arms. Aiming the gun I retrieved previously, I dragged the boy backward, heading toward the closing doors of the train, using the boy as a shield.

"Don't come any closer or I swear to God I will blast his brains!" I threatened to the rest of the FBI agents who stopped in their tracks, too late to stop me. I let out a deep growl, a scowl etched into my face as I cocked the gun to show them I was not bluffing. Behind me, the train doors finally began closing slowly two minutes after the warning. I looked at the boy once more who seemed too calm for a situation like this, and as I was about to throw him when he whispered the strangest thing.

"Hey, Gumdrop." I flickered my gaze to his face to which was splayed with a smirk. I hesitated for a split second before throwing him and the gun towards the FBI, slipping into the train. The train began moving, leaving this town behind and heading towards the city of Gilleard.

I sat down on one of the chairs. Everyone in the train scooted as far as they could from me, but I did not mind. I was used to it. I unwrapped the Snickers bar and took a bite.

This was just another day from the million I have lived through.

What's up Danger?