Aera had been locked in the decaying, underground prison for nearly forty-eight hours, and the constant whimpering from her new companions was beginning to make her blood boil.
Pathetic.
She shifted position, leaning back and propping her feet on the bars which incarcerated her.
With her patience wearing on zero, she pulled back her knee, and slammed her foot into the bar so that it sent a loud vibration through the underground dwelling.
Aera was unable to take much more of the foolish babbling from her cellmates. It made her want to put them out of their misery, never mind the thugs that had kidnapped them.
'Hey!' she yelled, stopping the mindless hum of voices. 'Unless you have a circular saw in your cell, will you please shut the hell up?'
If not for her individual compartment, she’d have strangled them all hours ago.
'Don't be like that,’ a timid voice squeaked from Aera's neighbouring cell, ‘we need to stick together. I know you're scared but-'
Aera's giggle was menacing as she rose to her feet and pressed her face against the gap in the bars. 'It's a little hard to stick together when we'll be cut into pieces pretty soon.'
One skinny woman - who had clearly been here longer than Aera - spoke up from across the room. 'You're sick.' Then addressed the petrified group as a whole, 'Don't listen to her.'
Aera contemplated what was next for her, but she had no idea what lay ahead at this point either. She wasn’t scared, though. She much preferred her own company as she found most of humanity tedious and not worth her time.
The drone of voices came to an immediate halt upon hearing the distant jingle of keys behind the heavy iron door. The hideous sound it made when it grazed the concrete turned Aera's stomach, as if it were nails scraping along a blackboard.
Two men - dressed head to toe in black - stepped into the enclosure.
'Where did we put that little spitfire?' one of the cronies said as he scoured the first aisle and inspected the white cards hanging outside each chamber.
When the thud of heavy boots stopped in front of her, Aera lifted her head to see a round, weathered face looking in at her.
'Got her,' the man rasped, alerting his associate. Aera heard the gasps from all directions when the pair entered into her compact space with a camera. 'Smile.'
With the lens pointed at her face, she flippantly stated, 'I usually charge for this sort of thing.'
Ruffling her fingers through her hair and adjusting her cap, she smirked and held her middle finger up to the camera.
At least this time they had given her a cue to prepare for the snapshot.
110Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8wc3sEp11k
