La Rosa Del Sur (The Rose of the south)

Chapter 22

Chapter 22
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"Rosa, ¿puedes oírme?" The voice sounded far away. I shook my head slightly, feeling dizzy, not opening my eyes just yet. "Rosa," The voice repeated, louder this time. "Rosa, por favor despierta."

I opened my eyes and squinted at the harsh sunlight streaming through the window. It was no longer night. I looked around, still a bit groggy, finding my grandfather, directly opposite me, still chained, in the same position I'd left him in. I tried to crawl over to him, but found that my own limbs were chained to the wall. I pulled at my restraints, but to no avail.

"Abuelo," I said, looking desperately at him. "What happened?"

Abuelo sighed. "I woke this morning to find you gone, but not for long. The green-eyed man brought you back unconscious, and chained you to the wall."

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

"Almost half a day."

"Yes, it has been a very long wait," A deep, cold voice from outside the cell sounded, making us both jump. I whipped my head around to the direction from where it came from, now wide awake. "We thought you'd never wake up." I squinted at the shadows, trying to make out the man.

"Who are you?" I asked loudly, straightening myself as much as I could in the shackles.

There was a chuckle. "You are quite loud for such a small person. Definitely a latina." I hissed at him, pulling against the chains.

"You want to say that to my face?" I spat, seething with anger. "Don't be shy, just come out of the shadows and say that to my face." There was a pause, and then I heard a clank of keys entering a lock. I watched the door swing open and saw two tall figures slink into the cell. One of them was the black-clad man with green eyes. The other was the man with icy hands. He wore the same sinister smile as he had last night. In the light of the afternoon sun, I could see him quite clearly. He had curtains of brown hair that fell to his shoulders, framing a very thin face. All of his features were quite thin, he was almost like very large stork in that way he leered down at me.

"How's your leg?" He asked in that same chilling voice. I didn't answer, but looked down to see my previously bloody and dirt-covered leg, now clean as a whistle and wrapped in soft, white bandages. There was not a speck of grime in sight.

"What is your game here?" I asked, swiveling my head back up to him. "You bring me here, chain me up, but yet you tend to my wounds." I inspected his face, eyes trailing over the hollow features.

The man spread his arms in mock offense. "You know, any other person would've said thank you and left it at that." He clicked his tongue and wagged a finger. "Now, ungratefulness is something I will not stand for." Suddenly, he crouched down, quite close to my face. His hot, stinking breath enveloped my nostrils.

"Could you please--," I began, but was cut off by a sharp slap to the face. I fell sideways, putting a hand to my stinging cheek. I glared up at him in shock.

"Stand up," The man snarled. He grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me, quite painfully, to my feet. Mi abuelo gave a yelp of protest, but the man yelled, "Quite, you old bastard, or I'll have her shot here and now." My grandfather quieted, and I stood there, pain beginning to course through my leg again. I grabbed the wall behind me for support, the cold hands still in a vise-like grip on my shoulders.

"Please, take your hands off me," I said, as steadily as I could, looking the man straight in the eye. The man gave one more sneer, then released my shoulders. I leaned back into the wall, letting out a long breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

The man turned to his green-eyed companion and whispered into his ear. The green eyes squinted slightly, then he gave a nod and ducked out of the cell. The remaining man returned his gaze to me, blue eyes now slightly brighter. I pressed myself into the wall I was gripping, my chains clanking.