The Anonymous

Chapter 32: The "Unmasking" of Unknown

Unknown let out an annoyed grunt before lifting me over his shoulders and carrying me away.

"Hey, Hey, put me down! I have a dress on."

He just ignored me and continued to walk to God knows where. He's worst than Ashton. We walked to his car, which was a black jeep with tinted windows. It was pretty normal; it doesn't scream Axe murderer or sniper vibes.

We drove for what seems like 20 minutes. I felt my eyes growing tired, but the pain in my foot wouldn't let me.

"Hey, Unknown?" He didn't say anything; his eyes remained focused on the road. He had this straight posture like he served in the military all his life and didn't know how to relax.

"You can drop me home." "I live at 409 Boerum Hill in Downtown Brooklyn." "I'll be fine."

Unknown didn't say anything or even looked my way. I felt the car stop, and he opened the car door and lifted me bridal style. It was too dark to tell exactly where we were. It looked like a warehouse. He pulled out a card, and the door opened. Inside was a large studio apartment. It had a warehouse theme to its, dark brick walls, crusty looking large windows. I guess it supposes to looks chic everything was new and state of the art. Unknown placed me down in the bathroom.

"Wash your feet, so it doesn't get infected." "Let me know when you're finished," he said before walking away and closing the door behind him.

I washed my foot off slowly, a mix of blood and dirt streamed down the white tub. I honestly felt like taking a full shower, but unfortunately, this wasn't the time or place. Unknown lifted me up once more bridal style and took me back into the bedroom.

He's a quiet fellow worst than Ashton, he doesn't talk unless spoken too, it seems.

Laid out on the bed was povidone or peroxide, gauze, and some additional medical supplies. Unknown turned up the light in the room and pulled up a chair in front of me. I notice the removed the hoodie. He wearing a black fitted long-neck thermal long sleeve shirt. His face was still partially covered from the nose down with a mask, like Kakashi Hatake. He still had the black paint around his eyes, which was weird, but to each, their own. Does he go out in public like this? The cuffed-black beenie covered 90 percent of his hair. However, I could see the red-wavy hairs escaping from the beenie and framing his face. You know, for a dark, mysterious stranger of the night, he kind of h---- "OUCH," I yelled, trying to pull my foot away.

"The shard pieces of glass must come out."

"Just leave it. It hurts."

"You will lose your foot."

"What's that?"

"Prondone, you'll need stitches."

"No, I don't."

"It will heal better, just hold still."

I looked away and closed my eyes shut. The sharp pain from the needle pierced my flesh, causing me to scream out loud.

Unknown immediately stopped causing me to look at him, blink back tears. "Just take a deep breath," he said, trying to calm down, but it wasn't helping. Again he passed the needle threw my skin, and I screamed uncontrollably. I decided to take a deep breath, but, instead, another shriek escaped my mouth. The pain radiated threw my body. I grab ahold of the bedsheets.

"You're alright. I'm done."

I opened my eyes to him, bandaging my throbbing foot. I wiped my face feeling slightly embarrassed and self-conscious. "I need to wash my face." Once again, Unknown showed no emotion; he just scooted backward in the chair. I got up and limped to the bathroom, where I washed my face.