Hide and Seek

Chapter 1 *Part 1

Right Kick

Right Punch

Left Kick

“Exceptional Mae, Tremendous,” my coach called out.

His face echoed around the underground basement, fading towards the elevators. The elevators were shiny, gray and never grim or greasy. They were lined in a perfect line down the wall and I estimated there were a mere twenty of them. They took you all to the same places but there are many people that were being held here.

The grandness of the room made my head spin. We were the only two left since I put in extra hours to be the best as a secret agent.

“Mae! Pay attention! Do you want to die in a mediocre fight?”

I sharpened my senses and maintained focus as I beating the dummy hanging from the pole. Its obsidian button eyes pierced into my soul, telling me it knows things that go around here. In this blank space when we’re all locked up. When the dummy was combined with its mop of hair and tattered clothes, it strangely reminded me of my doll from the orphanage. The only thing, besides Hunter, that had kept me alive. That felt like many eons ago…

“We should end after this next round”

I finished my last round with as much accuracy and strength that I still held. The last motion has me winded as my hands grope my knees for air and support. One… Two… Three… My breath gradually steadies while I force myself to breathe in a normal pace.  When I steadied out I turn toward him and bow to him for putting in extra time to coach me. Bowing represents the respect of someone that is ‘inferior’ to you.  

He leans toward my bent figure and slides the tip of his forefinger under my chin. His sausage fingers where clammy and sent a petrifying shiver down my spine. He stared directly in my eyes with his penetrating glaze that was filled to the brim with lust. His finger dropped at the edge of my chin allowed me to stand up and tower over his small frame. My eyes stood blank as he tried to decipher my feelings. He raised a brow and took a step forward allowing me to smell his scent of burnt roses that swirled into my nostrils.

He catches a strand of my short chocolate curls and says, “Meet me after your evening checkup this time”

He twirled the hair around his forefinger. He pulled the strand into his nose and deeply inhaled the scent of it. A moan filled the empty air as he released his breathe. His breathe wafted into my nose of his morning coffee.

The smell of burnt roses surrounded me from his close presence. I wonder where that burned rose smell came from then. No one has ever been allowed to leave to reach the ground where roses grow. Not even the staff.  We have forced here, all the thousands of us, having no way to find the exit. I feel claustrophobic since we are hundreds or even thousands of miles under the ground. I have been here since my pre-teen years straight from the orphanage and forced here with a gun to my head.

He lets go of the infected strand and says, “You may go.”

I bolted to the elevator trying to escape from his clutches and hurry to have more time with Hunter. The light above the elevator dings flashing a red light above the opening of it. I walk into the elevator and face thousands of buttons to different locations in this underground station. I press M12 button and fold back my sleeve to reveal my coded tattoo.

The elevator clicks and closes the door gently with a soft ‘clamp’. I am so used the elevator that my stomach has stopped turning from the harsh jerks and speed of its movement. The elevator shuffled to the left then dropped down harshly. The door joggles to a stop and opens to allow a flow of a professional clad of people that sported dark tented glasses over their eyes. Unlike us prisoners, they wore sharp suits in dark shades of grey.