ODDS OF SURVIVAL - TAEKOOK

CHAPTERTWENTYSEVEN

The sun was almost set.

A woman lounged sideways on an overly plush chair, digging dirt from under her thumbnail with the tip of a knife as she watched the last rays disappear over the treetops.

The chair was a new addition to her quarters. It was ugly as hell, but incredibly comfortable. She wasn't normally one to choose comfort over aesthetics but the chair was also quite large, and positioned at the head of the room as it was it had a throne-like feel to it that she quite liked.

Maybe if she could have it reupholstered in leather it would be more suitable.

One of her scouting teams was late in returning, and she was growing impatient. If they didn't bring something very good home with them she was going to be extremely cross.

She hated wasting fuel and supplies on unsuccessful scouting missions. She was also almost out of her favorite tea, and that had her in a bad mood already.

Good news was well overdue, but it seemed less likely by the minute.

There was a noise outside, the sound of a door opening and footsteps coming down the hall.

About damned time.

She looked up expectantly, but when a single, scared-looking man entered alone she raised an eyebrow in question. This looked like bad news.

"Where are the other two you left with?"

"Gone, ma'am," he replied. He seemed to be making a visible effort to stand up straight and not fidget with his hands, and as much as she hated cowering and fidgeting, this failed attempt to hide the behavior was almost worse.

"Gone? Gone where? Dead? They ran off? You left them behind? They were abducted by aliens?"

"Dead, ma'am. I'm sorry. They- they were killed, ma'am," he stammered uselessly.

"Obviously they were killed if they're dead," she said, lip curling in a sneer of disgust. "This is the second time I've sent you out with a scouting team and you've come back as the lone survivor of a failed mission. If I were the suspicious type I might start to wonder about that."

"I swear it wasn't my fault, ma'am! We ran into others, and they killed Yoongi and Hoseok!"

"Let me guess: They were both shot with a bow and arrow by the same angry blonde-headed wood-sprite that killed your last partner?"

"No! It wasn't—" he bit his lip and clenched his fists in frustration.

It was amusing to watch him struggle to choose the right words to refute her bastardized recounting of his report about his last partner's death without offending her.

"I-I never said I thought he was a leprechaun or a fairy or nothin' like that. I just said he was a blonde with a bow and arrow, and he shot Dale. And it wasn't him who got Yoongi and Hoseok, but he was there! I know it was the same guy! Tall and skinny with blonde hair. He was with a big guy with black hair. The big guy... I didn't see what he did to Hoseok, but I found him dead. Then I saw him outside and he stabbed Yoongi in the neck with his own knife."

This was ridiculous. Exactly the sort of bad news she did not want to hear right now. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply.

"So you know these men killed three of our people. Two of the murders you saw with your own eyes, and in both instances you just... let them get away with it? Ran off to protect your own skin like a fucking coward?"

"No, ma'am!" he shouted.

Her head snapped up in warning that she didn't appreciate his tone and he immediately backpedaled, stammering again.