Hostage

Guns and Roses

--Fox's P.O.V--

The large double doors in front of me slowly began to creak open. I had been told to wait until the doors were fully open to walk out onto the field, which had something to do with stage presentation; I wasn't listening much after the directions were explained. Anyway, once the doors were opened fully, I would walk calmly onto the field of battle, with the other Chosen following closely behind me in a strict single file line. Afterwards, they would announce our name, gender, power, weight, strengths, and weaknesses. Then we'd be forced to stand there with our best poker faces, waiting for the spectators to place their bets on us, as if we were greyhounds in a dog race.

This whole thing was wrong. Keeping people hostage for their own personal abuse? The simple thought of it made me scowl.

Now the overheard speaker was blaring to us to come back into the building; we would meet the people who betted highest on us, and then go back out and fight, supposedly to the death.

Ha, I don't think so.

We came back into the building slowly, as we were told. We took our seats, and stared up at the people standing in front of us. We were introduced, then forced to sit down with them.

A man with black hair and a little too much five o-clock shadow for my liking approached me, evil smirk intact. It wasn't like the devilish smirks Jett sent me when we were brainstorming crazy ideas; no, this one was full out evil.

He sat down beside me, and handed me a blooming rose; I decided not to ask about it. When he spoke, his voice was deep. "I take it you're Hope Fox?"

I scowled back at him. "Fox to my friends, Hope Fox to anyone else. And yourself?"

"Okay then, Fox. I'm Ben. Ben Union. Once you win this competition, I'm taking you home with me," he smirked again.

"Maybe I didn't make this clear enough the first time, Mr. Union." I stared the man straight in the eyes. "Only my friends get to call me Fox. You, sir, are not my friend. You are just a man who's betting on me in a battle I might not even win," I retorted quickly. I felt brave, so I kept going. "And over my dead body will I be going anywhere with you." I threw the rose at him.

"Well then, Fox, I may have some bad news for you. If you win the battle, I have the legal right to take you home, if I want to, which I do. When you win that fight, you're mine," he whispered to me. He quickly kissed my cheek, and then stood, placing the rose back in my lap.

"Then have fun burying my remains, because that'll be the only way I ever go anywhere near you." I muttered, glaring daggers.

"My pleasure." he turned and winked at me before walking away once again.

➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶

--Jett's P.O.V--

I poked my head out of the door, looking every which way to be positive there was no one coming from anywhere. I smiled, if only to myself, because now the other hostages were getting curious. Everyone was wondering why no one's collar had beeped, and I was the only one who knew what was going on. You see, if the door is open, the collars are unlocked and harmless. But, if the door is closed, the collars are ready to keep hostages in. The thing is, when the door is open, there are supposed to be at least two guards at the door to keep the hostages from doing anything stupid, not including the Caller of the Chosen. The Organization apparently thinks that since there are guards at every corner at which to run, there should be no reason to keep the collars on and waste energy.

It's a smart plan, but it's also simple, making it easy to bend around. I'm sure the leaders of the Organization thought of all these escape plans, but they underestimate us way too much. I motion for the ones accompanying me to go, and we hurry quietly into the long corridor stretching far down in either direction. The weapons room is to our left, so we head that way as quickly as we can without drawing attention to ourselves. Once we got there, we faced a problem; the door was locked.

I cursed under my breath. I should have thought of this sooner! Of course the door was locked, not even most of the employees were aloud in there without being under close surveillance.

"Think, think, think!" I urged myself, still mentally criticizing myself for not thinking of this. I sighed aloud. My mind was turning a million different different directions right now, and I wasn't sure if any of them would get me anywhere. "Go on to stage presentation; I'll meet you there," I muttered, to which I added, "Pick me up a pair of clothes please."

My ally muttered an okay before scurrying off to find clothes (and hopefully food; he knew to look.)

I paced the long corridor, thinking on my feet. I was praying no one came; do you realize how strange it is to walk down the hall, minding your own business, and suddenly see a kid with wings trying to open a room full of deadly weapons?

Yeah, me neither.

After a series of pacing the floor, thinking on my feet, and brainstorming ideas, I finally had an idea. But just remember, this plan took me all of about thirty seconds to notice.

The lasers guarding the weapons room were spaced about a foot high apart, meaning to slide under the first one should be simple, as long as I didn't hit the lasers with my wings, which I still couldn't fold in all the way.

I took a deep breath and got down on the floor, my stomach hitting the cold ground. I tucked in my uninjured wing, and held onto the the broken one. It took all I had not to scream as I pulled my injured wing down with my hand, the color in my face gone from pain. This hurt almost as badly as being shot, an experience I had known before. I finally slid myself under the laser successfully, to which I painfully let go of my broken wing.

I was in; I started grabbing as many weapons as possible and sliding them under the laser. First, a green ray gun, then three handfuls of hand grenades, then five swords, then four pistols, then a few pepper sprays (hey, you never know what you might need.), then one more ray gun, this one being a bright red; It reminded me of Fox's fiery head of hair, so I smiled and shoved the gun in my pocket. Next, I found a double-edged sword and slid it under. I was about to grab a handful or two of daggers when I heard footsteps.

Heavy footsteps.

Headed my direction.

➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶☠➴☠➶

Ayye, so how'd you like this update?

Aight, so now, instead of using my phone to write updates, I'm using this really cool laptop type thing I got for Christmas, and I'm definitely still getting used to it. So, if you spot any grammar errors, or anything seems out of place, just comment or PM me about it! I'd be happy to know someone was paying attention.

So anyway, you know the usual, favorite and comment pleaseeee! ilyasm, and happy early New Years!
~Flash💙