Chapter 88 - WHO IS THE ALPHA?
I must stop lamenting for a moment and try to do something. If Sora doesn't report my abduction to the pack or Genrant I'm finished, but I have to try to do something on my own. If only I could get out of here, although I have no idea exactly where we are. Is there a chance that we are still in the forest? If so, I could try to lose them in the trees. I don't think I'm strong enough to run for long, but I must try before they decide to get rid of me. In my heart there is still this uneasiness, the oppression won't go away and for some reason I can't stop thinking about Genrant. I want to believe that he will rescue me, but in reality, I have no certainty about that.
I need to act, I need to find a way out before it's too late, I'd rather die trying to escape than stand by and do nothing and just wait for death to take me.
The kidnappers continue to move in and out of the room, and every time the door opens just a little, a bright light sneaks in that seems to come from a hallway, there are moments when I am left completely alone but not for too long. My senses sharpen, aware that this light represents an opportunity to escape this hell, what will be at the end of that corridor. I am determined to get out of here and fight to the end, however, I cannot afford to be discovered before I am ready to act.
The impatience and nervousness of the kidnappers become more evident; they whisper among themselves with words full of anxiety. “Is he really not coming?” they mutter among themselves, as they speculate on what to do if their plan fails. The uncertainty in the room is palpable, like a storm brewing, and I find myself caught in the middle of it, desperately trying to come up with a plan so I can escape.
“Is it that they can't do anything right?!” one of the kidnappers exclaims in frustration. “That girl just had to give him the information, not even that could she do?”
So the man with the scar on his face is named Frank, he seems the most extreme and impatient of all I could use that to my advantage.
“Don't stress, Frank. That promiscuous she-wolf must be coming, she's not that late,” another of the kidnappers tries to calm him down even though his tone is dismissive.
“She's not that late? It's already dark!” retorts Frank.
“If this human really is their mate like Sora said, then she'll come,” interjects another, trying to hold out hope.
“Mark, go get them,” Frank orders authoritatively.
“Fetch them? Do you want me to go to his pack and lure him here?” replies Mark incredulously,
The tension in the room cuts with a knife as uncertainty and nervousness take hold of the kidnappers.
“You're hearing that your idea is ridiculous, right? You're sending me straight to my death!” complains Mark, his tone of indignation and fear palpable.
“Ridiculous? Is that how you talk to your boss? Your alpha? How brazen!” replies Frank, his tone defiant and full of superiority.
“My alpha? You're nobody's alpha here, my alpha died a long time ago, at the hands of that bastard Genrant. In any case, if anyone has to be alpha, it will be me,” Mark declares, his voice full of defiance and anger, his eyes shining with defiant determination.
“Insolent! I have more authority here than anyone else!” replies the other kidnapper, his tone charged with anger and resentment.
“Only you think so!” retorts Mark, not backing down from the confrontation, his fists clenched in a defiant gesture. The tension in the room is palpable, each word uttered like a punch in the air charged with hostility.
I decide to intervene just to provoke them, “Aren't you the alpha? From the authoritative way you speak, even I thought you were,” I comment with a feigned dubious tone, trying to sow discord between them.
“See, even that stupid human can tell the difference that I'm the boss here!” replies Frank, with a poorly disguised tone of superiority.
This conflict is ridiculous, but it could be my chance. If I can create more tension between them, maybe I can distract them long enough to try to escape. But every second that passes plunges me deeper into fear and uncertainty.
“I'm so much better than you! You don't even have enough guts to kill him, do you? You boast that you'll be the one to give him his comeuppance, but have you ever ended anyone's life? You won't even let us kill that damn human!” Mark is furious, unable to contain his anger at what he considers an affront to his honor. The tension in the room is palpable, every word uttered like a punch in the air charged with hostility.
But before the argument reaches its climax, the man with the scar pulls a pistol from his pants with impressive speed, startling everyone in the room. Before Mark can react, a bullet pierces the air and hits his leg, just above the knee. A cry of pain escapes Mark's lips as he grabs his wounded leg, falling to the floor with a thud. Blood spurts from the wound, forming a dark puddle on the floor as Mark's screams of pain fill the room, echoing like a piercing wail.
At the impact of the bullet, Mark staggers backward, losing his balance before falling to his knees on the floor. His face contorts into a grimace of agonizing pain as he clutches his wounded leg tightly, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood gushing from the wound. Each breath seems like a muffled moan from the intensity of the suffering.
“Who's in control now, huh?” the scarred man asks as he watches Mark writhing in pain on the floor.
Mark's hands shake as he tries desperately to cover the bullet hole, but the blood keeps gushing out, staining his fingers a dark crimson color. The pain consumes him, and his screams fill the room, echoing off the walls like an echo of his torment.
The other kidnapper looks on in horror at the scene, paralyzed by the momentary shock with no intention of doing anything. The presence of the gun in the hands of the man with the scar abruptly reminds me of the brutality of the man who claims to be their leader, can I get out of here alive before it's too late?