Sin

Chapter 4: Green Eyed Devil

(Xena POV)

"Rise and shine," a deep raspy voice sang.

A cold splash of water immediately awakened me from the dead, leaving me gasping for air. Startled, confused, and angry I scrambled around like a fish out of water trying to catch my bearings. My curly thick hair was soaked to the roots and clung to my face. My clothes clung to my body for dear life. There was no mirror for me to see myself, but if I could, I imagine I would resemble a wet chihuahua.

I rapidly began scanning the room for the culprit, breathing deeply. Reaching up to move my hair away from my face, I was stopped short at the clanking of chains. Glancing down, I became more frantic. I was bounded, both hands and feet. A grunt ripped from my throat as I angrily pulled at the chains, screaming.

"Come out you pussy! What, you scared of a woman?" I yelled, challenging the mystery person.

My head and stomach throbbed in pain as I huffed a breath of frustration, receiving no answer. I slouched back, relaxing to take in my surroundings.

I was in a small room which held nothing except two chairs and hollow walls, which echoed my groans of agony. The only proof of life, other than the shadow that lurked somewhere in the corner of the dimly lit room was me. I was chained to a wall, my back pressed uncomfortably against what felt like a pipe.

"Help!" I screamed banging my chains against the pipe behind my back.

"Anyone please!"

"Let me out of here!" I shrieked again at the top of my lungs.

The respiratory force from yelling caused me to grimace. The more I screamed, the more my body seemed to punish me for it. My throat was dry, scratchy, and burned anytime I tried to swallow. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since before my father called me into work yesterday. My abdomen protested anytime I inhaled. The steady throb of my side and gentle wheeze of my throat warned me that I needed water sooner much rather than later.

I looked down and noticed a white bandage tightly secured my abdomen. Crimson stained the cloth the more I struggled against my shackles.

Had I been shot?

I lowered my head in defeat as droplets of water dripped off the ends of my curls and puddled at my bare feet. Some droplets went astray, hitting my torn skirt mingling with my tears.

"You done?" the same deep raspy voice from earlier questioned as he made his way out from the shadows of the room.

The anger and coldness laced in his voice caused shivers of fear to run through my body.

Yet, the familiarity of it caused me to look up out of curiosity. I'd heard that voice before, somewhere. I began thinking back but remained silent as I scrunched my eyes, trying to make out the features of his face.

My memories were blurred, foggy, and disoriented, teasing me with only bits and pieces of recollection.

I remember talking to Marco while writing up paperwork at the front desk, when two or three men came into the bank pointing guns. From there I didn't remember much else. There were gunshots, an alley way, and I believe I stabbed one of the men.

I continued rummaging through my brain when it clicked. The realization hit louder than a shattering glass.

The mask.

The man beneath it.

I'd seen him before, but under much different circumstances.

"You," I growled, snapping my head up to glare at my abductor.