Yoona Duke (Short Story Version)

Part: One

The rough hands gripping on my arm pulled me forward, as another pair of hands clawed it's razer nails deep into my shoulders and clasped to my wrist. As the hands bluntly guides me, the soles of my feet felt sharp pains. The concrete below us was rigid and piercing through the thin soles of my sandals. My heart beat continues to pound against my chest. My lungs can't keep up with the rapid breaths I take. My lungs burns each time I inhale the blistering, grainy heat of the air. All I see is black. Tightly tied around my eyes is cloth covering them, preventing me from seeing. All I have is my hearing to rely on.

"Is this the girl he wanted?" A deep scratchy male's voice spoke up.

"She fits the description, doesn't she?" Another- soft, yet hollow male's voice sarcastically replied. The sounds of the man's voice trembled through my ears. These unfamiliar voices sweeped an agonizing panic down my spine.

I wanted to protest. I wanted to shout out "help", or "let go", but my throat was feeling a fiery sensation. An sensation that couldn't be relieved by swallowing my saliva.

"Tom, wait!" The deep scratchy voice yelled out. The bodies clinging on to me halts to a stop. I stop in my tracks, also. I stiffen and lock my body still. In my right ear, I hear heavy heaves and pants.

"I'm tired," The scratching voice pants in between each word. "Let's take a break. Can we?"

"No, you dim-wit! We gotta turn this girl in to the boss." The hollow voice sharply retorted. From hearing with my ears, I figure there are two muscular men with me. They're probably standing at each side of me, talking through me.

"Tom, come on," 'Dimwit' pleaded, "We've been walking for so long now. And it's hot and stuffy here."

"Fine! Fine!" The voice, who I now believe is this 'Tom' person demanded. The nails digging into me finally pulls off of me, along with the holding my wrist, "But you! You better keep a good eye on her, ok? If she runs off somewhere, it'll be our heads."

"I got this!" the hands still gripping on my arm firms his grasp, "She's not going anywhere on my watch."

I hear heavy footsteps distancing from us, "Good."

"Where are you going, Tom?" Dimwit called out.

"Out!" Tom's voice echoed behind me. The footsteps weakens until I can't hear it any more.