I’d never had a sense of adventure. To me, just doing my job was adventure enough. Sure I wanted to see the outside, but I never thought too seriously about it. Never toyed with the idea of making plans to escape.
But today, today was different. I could feel it the moment I woke up. The atmosphere was… off.
I couldn’t tell what it was but I was wary of leaving my home. I look at my watch, under the ID bracelet that says Killer, and realize that it’s four A.M.. If that were the case, then why would it be so bright outside my window?
Tentatively, I walk outside and a net is thrown over me. Or tried to. I step to the side and it misses but I think that was what they wanted me to do. The lights of the helicopter blind me and I stumble back. I hear shouts and the crackling of radios.
Something punctures my arm and I gasp. What were they doing? The population was 1,555 so I’m doing my job just fine. Or did I do something wrong? Was this because of the guy with the pan?
Something pulls at my consciousness and I look at the pain in my arm, seeing the tranq dart sticking out. I yank it off of me and throw it to the ground. What the actual bait? Why would they need to sedate me?
The tug at my consciousness pulls harder and I stumble backward with my hand on my head. I get tunnel vision and they shoot me again. Stumbling like a drunk and turn around and fall back into my house. From the ground, I close the door and my breaths come in gasps. I couldn’t let them take me, I just can’t.
I crawl over to the couch but my limbs are heavy and I don’t make it even halfway before the door bursts open. There are shouts and heavy footsteps as they rush in and surround me. I vaguely hear them yelling about how I was still conscious and how I shouldn’t be.
I wish I could prove them right but the pull was just too strong and I slip into the welcoming darkness.
179Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvodHRlsinj
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179Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzO5MvL1DaO
I move between consciousness and unconsciousness like a door. I’m strapped to a cot and it’s very uncomfortable. I feel air moving through my hair and I realize I’m being pushed down a hall surrounded by multiple people. I know I’m not injured, mentally or physically, so I’m curious about where they’re taking me.
Eventually, I decide I don’t want to know and try to make a move to struggle against the binds. Except I can’t because I’m paralyzed which raises the ever-appearing question.
Why?
Searching my memory I try to recall if I’ve done anything wrong. I think of the guy with the pan but that couldn’t be it because that has happened many times before. So, what was it?
Suddenly I’m dumped onto cold concrete and something is removed from my arm and the people who dumped me here leave as fast as they can, not wanting to be wherever they were for longer than they had to or wanted to. I look up and around, a gasp escaping from my cold, cold lips.
I wasn’t in the Wilderness city. I was in a different one and this one was unlike anything I’d seen before. Instead, it was all dark and gray. The streets were made from cobblestone and the houses were painted gray. There were streetlights that were flickering and the streets were deserted.
The population here was currently 153.
I found that odd and a little bothersome. Living in a city of exactly 1,555 all my life, this was an aberration. It was also so very dark here. I slowly stand and turn in a slow circle, stumbling slightly from the aftereffect of being drugged.
I take one careful step forward and then another. To the side of the road leading to the city, I see a sign that reads: Welcome to Criminal City.
I blanch and it’s like seeing the whole place from new eyes. What had I done to deserve to be here? Was this some kind of mistake?
I smell smoke, tobacco, and nicotine.
“So many questions and so few answers.” Someone says in a lazy tone. I spin quickly to face the speaker and grimace at the sight of someone so young smoking.
The smoker has long black hair and fair skin and he didn’t look like he did this often, inhale toxins I mean. He is spinning the cigarette between long and slender fingers, ashes coming from the lit roll. His lips quirk up at the corners and his dark eyes glinted with amusement.
He takes another drag and makes a circle of smoke in the air. I watch, a bit mesmerized, and then snap out of it. I frown at him but he just smirks back. His eyes keep flicking to my hair and I feel self-conscious as I fidget with the ends subtly. He seems to be really studying me, his eyes boring into me and they look a little… sad?
“Do you need somwhere to stay, love? I have an extra room.” He leans forward and I can smell the smoke on his breath. I frown at his mouth, his teeth were so white and perfect.
“I don’t think it’s particularly safe staying in a house with you,” I say, raising my eyes to his. “And love? I’m not your lover so please don’t use pet names.” I could have been nicer though, but I wasn’t in a very good mood after being drugged and dropped in a strange place, no less Criminal city.
His eyes flash with hurt for a second but he smiles. “Don’t worry, my rose, I won’t try anything.” He hands me a slip of paper and closes my hand around it with his own cold ones. They were soft but strong.
I look up to open her mouth and say something. I’m not too sure what I would have said, maybe something about not being ‘his rose’ or maybe something about not wanting to stay with him. Or it may have been to ask to feel his hands again, but if that were the case I’m glad he disappeared.
There was not a trace of him, just a lingering wisp of smoke and a cigarette butt on the ground where he has stood moments before. I wanted to decline his offer but I didn’t have anywhere else to go and there weren’t any woods nearby. With a sigh, I open the small piece of paper
ns 15.158.61.45da2
