Scarlet Greene has seen it all.

She has had to be more than one people on different occasions, that's why despite living in the suburban side of her city, Scarlet stills blends in whatever situation, even in an environment where people breathe cocaine instead of oxygen, and bathe in each others spit instead of water.

Scarlet has also been many things, but being afraid hasn't been one of them, not in a long time. That is one thing she forgot how to do as soon she had turned fifteen, even if it was never by choice.

Then again, not once in her life has she ever been given a choice.

She's always been her own rock, growing up with no one to look up to or count on tends to have that effect, though she doesn't entirely feel bad about that, considering it moulded her into the strong and ruthless woman she is. Nothing in life has been able to awaken her fears. Yet, for some reason unknown, she could take this moment, this part of her life and call it paranoia.

Scarlet realises this as she becomes weary of everything and anything in close proximity. Every sound, every movement, every whisper and every footstep. Speaking of which...

That isn't just any footsteps behind her, definitely not. Someone must have followed her.

No! She reminds herself. You're just being paranoid! No body is following you!

Of course no one is following her, it's fear. It's such a strange feeling, one she's never felt before. Beads of sweat trickle down her spine- making her shiver even if the weather couldn't be further from cold -as her breaths multiply a million times more. A mosquito makes contact with her mouth. She cringes and instinctively sniffs, blowing it off. The stench of stale beer and public piss wafts out from somewhere behind the dark alleyway, making her gag. While her concentration is on holding down the bile that's rising up her gut, Scarlet's foot hits a car scrap metal at the entrance of a building.

"Uuuurrrghh!" Clutching at her leg, she groans as she enters said building, unnervingly aware and very expectant of what is awaiting her in there. Sometimes you don't need to be told, you don't need a signpost explaining it in ten different languages. You don't even need to know the place to know that once you cross the doors and head inside, there's no turning back. It's written all over the place.

You're in for it; danger.

Then again, this is her. Even the fiercest tremble when they feel her presence, and when she wants something, she gets it. It's that simple.

Except it's not.

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That was strange!

Scarlet thinks. She has seen her fair share of strange things happening to people especially out of trepidation, like a person pissing themselves. She may be scared right now but this, she has yet to come across anything like it.

And for God'sake, she never is scared. Maybe worried sometimes, but not scared. Never scared.

For another five or more seconds, Scarlet's head tremors uncontrollably again. And she feels the joints in her hands pivot, as if a machine is being used to turn them, but it's not painful. It's almost like they've been struck by electric shock. When she halts and glances at her hands, they're in their perfect position.

She shrugs, ignoring both motions.

Her body is just tired. Obviously.

Regardless of her loud footsteps, and all the noise coming from everyone else in this dump of a God forsaken apartment building, Scarlet can only seem to hear erratic thudding of her heartbeat beneath her chest.
She's running even faster than she'd ever thought was humanely possible, shoving everything out of her way, human or not.
Scarlet doesn't mind the reek of weed horribly invading her nostrils that would have had her choking on a normal day. But today, this day couldn't be further from what she knows as normal. Her fingers hastily press the elevator button, but the damn thing isn't functioning!

Well what did you expect? Scarlet scolds herself. The elevators look older than old anyway.

Time is one thing Scarlet doesn't have.

Well besides her.

She embarks on the stairwell journey. Tired, she feels worn out. Her throat is dry, almost cracking up. But she can't waste a second of the little time she has checking for the water bottle in the backpack. She arrives on the first landing, her chest heaving up and down. Clutching on the side of her backpack, Scarlet removes the small note with the address.

Apartment no.5 Third floor. Second hallway to the right.

Then she starts over up the stairs, and before she knows it, she's on the third landing. The steps pass by in a blur. Her stomach is grumbling hard and loud,  demanding her attention but that's the very least of her worries right now.

Scarlet glances around the hallway for any possible witnesses, however much she fits right in, there still is something that stands out about her. That something being the fact that she has to be the only sober person in the place.  Yet everything needs to be done in discretion.
With a trembling hand, she reaches out for the door for the address she had been given; apartment number five, saying a quick silent prayer to whoever is listening up there for her to be safe.

The partly rotten wooden door slides open with a loud disturbing squeak as she takes a step inside.

Scarlet exhales. It's not even an apartment, it's just a room.

But the sight that meets her eyes isn't exactly like anything she had expected to find here.

Is this some kind of joke?

If years of being in her profession have taught Scarlet anything, it is to tread with extreme care and caution, especially on enemy grounds. And to her, the whole world is a battle field. If you're not careful, you may earn yourself a free bullet in the back of your head. Even from a comrade.
She could be being watched, or worse, heard, and Scarlet wouldn't want to give her enemies a fear to suck on.

So hide her shock and compose herself she does. Or at least, tries because not long after, her knees buckle, letting her down onto the brown light-fur carpet.

So much for hiding weaknesses.

Scarlet tries to convince herself that this is the mind playing some kind of sick joke on her, or better, it has to be some kind of nightmare. If it is, then Scarlet is sure it's the worst she'll ever have.

Okay. Maybe she's scared. A little.

The thought of losing her baby surely terrifies the hell out of Scarlet.
She cannot for the life of her fathom how she got here, her life was much simpler before Celine. She never feared for anyone's safety because she didn't hold anyone so dear to her heart.
But boy, would she change it for the world!
She doesn't want simple, she wants a life with all shades of Celine in it.

Did she leave home at all? Scarlet wonders.

Except for her sneaker clad sore feet, a sweaty body and heaving chest, it sure doesn't seem like it.
The walls in the meduim sized room are painted a light lilac and violet, the tiny only window has a big yellow sticker decorated with Pandas sheilding the room from the sun. Or at least, the one she has at her home was meant for that purpose. Underneath it, is a big blue movable baby bed with a swing to its right and a baby vanity on the left.

She knows this room. But It can't be!

Two equal size mattresses are sprawled out on the thick violet carpeted floor. Covered neatly in white and black spotted bedsheets with a plain red duvet and two red pillows on top.
The very same way it is at home!
A flat screen TV is hanging up on the wall, playing Celine's favorite movie; Tinker bell.

Scarlet thinks she's going crazy. She has to be.

A violet coloured couch, resting exactly on her left, hypnotising Scarlet, inviting her to sit and watch the movie, the same way it always does. But this time it's different, this time, Celine isn't here with her, and this isn't her room. She needs to keep reminding herself of this before she goes completely crazy.

But that's before she spots a small mahogany wardrobe with golden vanished knobs, inviting her to make a pick of Celine's clothes for the day.

I'm crazy. She thinks.

This isn't it Scar! This isn't her room. Her subconscious keeps reminding her.

"This is Celine's room." She mumbles. "It's my baby's room." Scarlet adds in a frustrated whisper, her stomach plummeting. But then, how could it be here? Isn't it supposed to be at home? That's where she left it, right?

How the hell is her baby's room supposed to be here?

Because it isn't the one Scar! Scarlet just keeps ignoring her conscience.

But no one could've broken into her home, they wouldn't dare. Let alone take the time to redecorate this room exactly the same. Scarlet is confused, for the first time in twenty two years of her existence. She really is confused. Could it be the anxiety? She just doesn't understand.

Scarlet had been struck by the shock of seeing the room that she momentarily forgot about her reason for being here.

"Celine?" She calls out, getting up from the floor to search around. But then even if she did forget, Celine would be in sight. The room is so out there, there isn't any places that could be used as a hideout, even for a five year old. It's too open. something inside of her says Celine's not here at all.

But Scarlet isn't exactly known for listening to something inside of her.

She hastily shoves her head underneath the baby bed, even after knowing she's not there, the breadth of the space isn't even enough to accommodate King; her little kitty. But she has to be here.

She has to be...

She just..."Cee?" Scarlet's voice breaks."Please come out if you're here honey" she begs, "it's mommy! Can you hear me baby?" her voice is hoarse. She can feel herself losing it. She can't though, she needs to keep calling for her baby.

"CELINE!" Scarlet shouts.

But the more Scarlet yells, the more the realisation that her little girl really isn't here, hits home. She drops to her knees once again, sadly chuckling at the irony of it all; just like five years ago, on this very day, Scarlet was shedding tears. It was the first time she had cried in a long time and the last, that is until today. She really hopes no one is recording anything in this room.

The Dragon would have a feild day with a clip of her crying.

Except that day; the day Scarlet cried last, they were tears of joy, she had received her most precious gift, her only valuable treasure in life, someone to call her own; her Celine.

She had been much too young to even take care of herself, let alone a baby. But she knew that Celine was something special. Maybe not, maybe to the world she was just another newborn baby. But to Scarlet, she was a gift, a really precious gift from wherever gifts come from. Because in that moment, Scarlet knew she had never felt happier in her whole life. And nothing more could bring her joy, that much.

She knew they'd make it through. Together.
She would take care of her baby, her Celine.

And now she can't find her, she can't find her poor girl.
What could she be going through right now? Has she eaten? Is she sitting in some ditch? She must be scared to death! Is she even alive? Did someone already put a bullet in Celine's head?

Scarlet shudders thinking of it.

The same day that gave her so much joy, has turned back around, ripped her heart in two and given her so much pain. Scarlet can't remember the last time she felt pain. Of course, besides the physical pain she gets almost on a daily basis.

"But I won't give up," Scarlet vows. "I'm going to fight to the very last breath. I will get her back.
I'll find her if it's the last thing I do.

And I'll kill them all."

Scrambling to her feet, she starts getting up from the floor. she really feels exhausted, she could rest, but no, not even for a second. God knows what more Celine would have to go through while she decides to 'rest'.

She can't. But decides to take a sip from her water bottle. Killing herself with thirst won't be of help to either of them. She needs her strength to start all over again.
Grabbing the backpack, she starts unzipping it. But she's snapped out of it when her eyes finally look up.

What the hell?!

Scarlet had been so lost in crying that she didn't realise her screams had gathered a bunch of people; junkies. Great. They are convened around her, making a small circle around the mattresses inside the room already.

Shit!

Her bag slips from the hands and falls to the floor with a thud. Goosebumps rise all over her body as her hands tremble and heart races. Not from fear but anger. She's here for her baby, not to fight with some junkies. Though she could use some adrenaline release,  and take them out in the blink of an eye. The risks involved are too many though.
On second thought though, Scarlet knows this is no time to think about said risks, they are all men, and high on God knows what drugs.

And giving her devilishly-decayed-toothy-smiles.

"My my!" One of the junkies--one she'd prefer to call "Gold" due to the colour of his decayed teeth --says.

Run!

As soon as the thought crosses her mind, Gold clicks the door shut. Scarlet seems to have shut their mumblings out, as the only noise that is filling her ears is the thudding of her own heart. Her palms are sweaty but she tries not make it obvious by rubbing them dry, instead, she folds them into fists. How is she going to escape this? She can't make a stupid move, for she doesn't even know why or who sent them.

"Look what we've got here!" Gold muses, stroking his dirty beard as he eyes Scarlet head to toe.

She visibly shudders.

His colleagues display their wide dirty intoxicating grins. The stench of weed and alcohol mixed with months of not visiting the shower fills the room as Scarlet tries hard not to gag. Gold starts moving around her in circles, Scarlet turns with him in every direction as if they're in a spinning contest. Anger bubbles up in her chest as they both come to a halt.
Scarlet stands with her legs apart.

"Where you from missy?" Gold continues. "You don't look like you come from around here."

She purses her lips angrily.

Folding her fists, Scarlet clenches them and holds them up in front of her chest. Not that she's about to hit anyone. But scaring them a little wouldn't hurt.

"Get out of my way!" She barks. "Let me out of here in peace and I won't hurt you guys!"

Their wide grins disappear, and as if in sync, all their eyebrows shoot up.

Oh.

It all happens so fast. She doesn't even see them move, One minute she's facing all of them, the next she's on the floor, Gold is hovering over her body while Scarlet squirms under his disgusting touch and stinking breath. All the other four also bend down trying to touch her body but her kicks keep them at bay. For now.

Tears start prickling in her eyes. What the hell Scarlet? Tears? Really?

She takes a deep breath.

I can do this! I can resist. I can get out of this unhurt and without hurting anyone. She keeps mentally repeating her mantra.

For Celine, she's going to let these junkies get away. That is if they don't cross the line.

Or you could scream like a helpless damsel? Isn't that what girls in trouble do?

But Scarlet is no helpless girl.

In any case, she screams.

But it all comes out wrong, no one seems to heed Scarlet's cry for help. Does it even sound like a genuine cry? Never before has she ever cried for help. And she's been in worse situations.
She lays her legs flat on the floor, giving Gold the impression that she's giving in, he gets comfortable, placing himself on either side of her legs so that he's straddling her.

He grins widely. "Mmmm that's a good girl!"

Scarlet shoves her knee hard in between his legs while she tries to scream again.

The sound of her screaming leaves a bitter taste.

"Fuck!" Gold groans.

He jumps off, clutching his crotch and groaning in pain while falling over his friends.

Scarlet uses the opportunity to flee, turning around so that she's laying on the stomach, she crawls out of their legs.

Just when Scarlet thinks she's escaped, reaching the door, she's pulled back by the ankles.

Fuck!

Looks like she's going to have to kill someone after all. Her shoe slides off when she shoves one of her feet in the junky's face, as the other men grip the waistband of her jeans.

Well, they really are asking for it.

Scarlet punches one of the guys hard, without holding back on the jaw, his neck turns and he hits himself on the wall. Hopefully he's dead.

"Ugh!" he cries. Unfortunately, he isn't.

Her stomach grumbles.

For goodness sake she's hungry.

But this isn't the time to think about food all right.

Gold replaces the other men and straddles her again, tugging at the waistband of her jeans.

What the hell?!

She tries to push his hand away but to no avail, he seems too strong for a junkie.
Gold slaps Scarlet hard across the face making her let go of the waistband to touch her burning cheek while tears flow from her eyes without consent. She's been slapped harder for fuck's sake! Punched even. But she never shed a tear in those situations.

Probably because there was no Celine involved.

Gold yanks her by the hair and pulls her closer to his face. His stinking breath attacks her nostrils horribly and her stomach turns. Scarlet would throw up if she hadn't starved for two days.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson, bitch." He growls and bends down, flicking his tongue as his fist connects with Scarlet's jaw.

She punches him back in his fat belly, he grunts but doesn't barge, there's a flicker of something shiny in the waistband of his torn pants, something....silver?... A gun? Fuck! Scarlet realises she was right, these people are no ordinary junkies.

But before she can further deduct, something wood-hard hits her on the back of the head.

There is a sudden distant noise and a blindingly bright light...a flashlight?... fills the room as the door bursts open?

Or not?

She's losing sight.

"Shit!" Scarlet grunts weakly as her vision becomes blurry.

Oh yeah, what a convenient time to pass out!

Or maybe she isn't passing out. 

Maybe she's dying.