Twenty-two

I've been kidnapped three times in total. As an agent, it's kind of impressive for most people.

I wouldn't say that. Maybe it's just luck, maybe it's just the way you use your trust out there or maybe it's all about how many enemies you have. Clearly, I do have an enemy right now.

As for my situation, I would call it luck. Not a lot of people like me, so it's a surprise someone doesn't try to kidnap me more often.

Too bad for them, I guess. I mean, I'm such a good company.

My head hurts. I'm in a bad mood, and it doesn't help when I open my eyes and take in my surroundings.

The first thing I notice is how small the room is. The walls are made or concrete. The ground is cold, old, and dirty. There are no windows. At least, that's what I think until I notice, in the far corner, too high for anybody to reach, a tiny and dirty window. Unreachable.

That's where the only light comes from, I realize. It means it's still daytime. Who knows how long it's been since I'm here.

The second thing I notice is that I'm not alone in the room.

At least ten women are all around me, wearing nothing more than tank tops, ripped jeans or shorts—all dirty.

They're scared, shivering, but they don't look at me with surprise in their eyes. It's as if they're used to that.

To see a new woman being kidnapped and brought here.

I sit up, glancing around me. The third thing I notice is how they look all the same. Brown hair. Blue-gray eyes. The woman closest to me has green eyes, though.

But they all look the same.

They all look like me.

A strangled sound catches my attention. I turn my head to my left. A woman is clenching her side, her eyes filled with tears. She winces and two other women come to her side, trying to help her.

I'm on her side as well before I can understand what I'm doing.

"What happened?" I ask, taking place between the two women hovering over her.

The one to my right, with the green eyes, glances at me. Her lips tremble, probably from the cold weather in the room, but other than that, she looks fine.

"They realized she wasn't who they were looking for," she murmurs, looking at the woman who presses a hand to her side, closing her eyes. When she speaks again, I can hear the fear in her voice. "That's what will happen to all of us."

I clench my jaw. I don't have to ask to know who she's talking about. Or who they're looking for.

I focus my attention on the woman in pain. When she lifts her shirt, I hold my breath. The wound doesn't seem deep, but there is a lot of blood.

The woman to my left moves her hand to help the woman in pain. I stop her when she's about to put pressure on the wound.

"Don't," I say. I gaze at her dirty hands with dry blood, as well at the unclean fabric she's about to use for pressure. "We don't want to infect the wound."

I look at my own hands. Then without questioning myself, I tear off a part of my shirt and attempt to do something. To help a woman who's here by my fault. To save a woman who got hurt, because she looked like me.

They're all here, shivering, scared, hurt, because of me.

"You know what you're doing?" The woman with green eyes questions, but it sounds more like a statement.

I look at her. "I do."

Pausing, I glance around. All the other women are scattered in the small room, hugging their knees to their chests, staring at us with tired and scared expression.

I take a deep breath. "Do you have water here?"

I doubt it, but I need to ask. She glances around, asking the same question to the other prisoners. The women shake their heads.

"I don't remember last time they gave us a bottle. Maybe yesterday morning. But it's not enough for ten women." She pauses, looking straight at me. "Eleven, now."

I breathe slowly so I don't lose my shit. I keep putting pressure on the wound, shaking my head.

"I can't do much. I don't have anything, I—" I close my eyes for a moment, then looks down at the pained woman.

I can't guaranty she'll survive. Hell, I can't guaranty any women here will. I don't know how long they've been here. And they don't even get water? What about food?

I make a bandage with my fabric, then rest a hand on the forehead of the woman. She has a fever. I look down at her with an apology. To my surprise, she only smiles at me, nodding slightly.

When I stand up, I fight back a shiver as my now bare stomach meets the cold temperature of the room. It was starting to get cold outside already, with fall coming.

I look at the small window. "You tried it?"

The green-eyed woman stands up as well, with more difficulty. I watch her worriedly, but she seems okay. I wonder how long she's been here because compared to all the other women, she seems more tired, her clothes are dirtier, but most of all, she seems stronger. She's still standing on her two feet, so I guess that's a good start. And she hasn't so many injuries. At least, none that I can see.

God knows so many of us has a lot of injuries, and most of these you can't see.

"Yes, but to no use. It's unreachable, and it would be too small for any of us to get out of here, anyway."

I sigh. She's right. However, it doesn't mean I won't try it. Not for me, but for them.

Leaning against the wall behind me, I ignore the cold against my bare skin and close my eyes. The woman comes to sit next to me, and for a long moment, everybody stays silent.

"What do they want to do with the Bird?" I ask finally, breaking the thin silence with a question that seems to make everyone hold their breaths.

Just like that, they're all listening, but they're also too scared or tired to say anything to me.

The only reply I get is from the woman beside me. Her green eyes are intense, and it's a scary contrast to the dark circles under her eyes. Still, she's pretty and is probably around my age.

"You know the Bird?" she says, and her voice gets lower at the word bird like it's a curse.

I don't know exactly what she's asking. Is she asking if I know the Bird personally or if I know about the Bird?

I nod nonetheless because that's true for both of the questions.

I am the Bird.

Somehow, I feel like it's more cautious if I don't tell them that. I don't know them and they don't know me, and I'm not sure how they would react.

The woman nods. She doesn't question me, and I don't question her. I almost thought that she wouldn't know anything about that. That they're all here but don't really know why.

Well, I was wrong.

"The Master wants her. He... she belongs to him, I think." She takes a deep breath, staring at the other wall in front of us. "Or I think they just want to kill her. She's a danger."

Pausing, she looks at me. "We don't really know."

You know enough. For their own good, they know enough.

So it's now a fact. The Bird is a she. Of course, since it's me.

I glance at the woman from earlier. She stills looks in slight pain, but at least she's breathing. She rests her head on another woman's lap and closes her eyes.

"Don't worry," I voice suddenly, not sure who I'm speaking to exactly. Maybe to all of them. "You'll all get out of here. I promise."

There's a silence before someone from the other side of the room breaks it.

"Who are you?"

My eyes meet the similar ones of a woman with curly brown hair. She has her cheek pressed against the wall, her eyes half-closed. But then, she opens them and looks straight at me. Challenge but something that looks like hope is there, and she's letting me see it all.

So I let her—I let all of them—see my determination, my fear for their lives, but most of all, my anger.

"Someone they shouldn't have messed with," I declare.

It seems to be enough. They don't ask for a name. They don't ask anything else. They believe me, and that's enough for them. Some shoulders relax, and they lean against the wall with a sigh.

My heart clenches. My heart fucking clenches, and it makes me—what? It... scares me? That these women, who probably didn't know each other before they were kidnapped and brought here, suddenly trust me, a stranger—but most importantly, the reason they're all here—to help them? That they're so tired they let me take the lead?

And to look at all of them, leaning on each other, trying to survive without a clue on what's going on and why they're here, it makes me feel something.

"I'm Hanna," the woman with green eyes says after a while, turning her head towards me.

I want to lie to her. To use a fake name, because I shouldn't put my guards down even here. But I realize that she's not waiting for my name. Just like all the women here, she's not waiting for anything. She just tells me her name.

I nod, and with a final decision, I look at her. "Sophia."

"Welcome here, Sophia." She lets out a dry laugh, and I watch her. "Let's see how long you stay here with all of us."

I have a feeling that it'll be short.

I just close my eyes and shake my head.

"I don't do friends," I mutter under my breath.

I don't think she hears, but she does.

"Me neither," Hanna replies calmly. I fight the curiosity to look at her. "But I guess that when you're here for so long, you start to feel something for all these women. We're all scared, hungry, tired, pissed. We want to know what's going on, we want somebody to save us—"

When she doesn't finish her sentence, I open my eyes and glances at her. She's staring at me with a tired expression.

"Nobody will save us, right? That's what sucks." She shakes her head. "We have to save ourselves, or else we're all gonna die."

Then, Hanna stays silent. I know everybody listened to what she said.

And the truth is, she's damn right. And they all know it.

How would they react if they knew I'm the reason they're all here? And that I'm also the only person that can save them? At least, I must try.

I'm the Bird.

It's time I do something about it.

*

WAIT WHAT? ANOTHER UPDATE IN TWO DAYS? *gasps*

Yep, felt inspired. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. ❤️

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