Picture of Angela

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Trent takes one last look in his bathroom mirror, making sure not a single hair remains on his face from his shave as he buttons his blue plaid shirt and sprays on a dash of cologne. He has the music up, Papa Roach blasting, blocking out the city noise around him. His little above the garage apartment isn't much with its small square of a yard that he shares with his landlord, placed in one of the busiest residential areas of the city, but it's his.

"It's about time." He grins, anticipation building within him. In fifteen minutes he will be pulling up to the headquarters and Valery will race out to greet him with a radiant smile as he picks her up for their first date in way too long.

His excitement abruptly interrupted as a shadow in the call catches his attention. Acting quickly, he grabs his remote to his stereo and turns it off, diverting his full attention to the unfamiliar and emotionless stranger standing in his bathroom doorway. Two more individuals position themselves behind the man, effectively trapping Trent in the bathroom.

The man in front sneers, revealing a front missing tooth, aws he taunts Trent by holding up a vial of drugs that bears a striking resemblance to the ones that he lately acquired. A curse slips through Tren't lips.

"How did you find me?" Trent demands, his hand darting for his razor, the only blade within his reach.

"You were the one stealing from the North. All we had to do was follow you." The man with the missing tooth responds easily. Casually he draws his sword and takes a step towards Trent. The two accomplices behind him place their hands on their swords, prepared to intervene ready if needed. "Do you really think that thing is going to help you?" His amused tone only fuel's Trent's anger which shimmers deep within his core.

Trent adjusts his grip on the razor, tightening his hold. "You think we let thieves go?" The assassin asks as he takes another step towards Trent. Trent braces himself, ready to defend himself by any means necessary.

"Any other night, any other fucking night!" Trent growls in frustration. Adrenaline screaming in his veins, he reaches to grab the shower rod with one hand, still holding the razor out threateningly with the other.

With each forceful yank of the rod, he watches Missing Tooth steadily advance. Time seems to slow down with each breath, each blink. The two accomplices remain emotionless in the doorway.

Locked in a fierce gaze with Missing Tooth and his looming sword, Trent curses knowing his razor isn't going to be enough. He drops the razor in the tub, grabs hold of the shower rod with both hands and stands up on the wall of the tub. He jumps, propelling himself forward with a powerful kick to Missing Tooth.

Blood splatters as Missing Tooth stumbles backwards, smashing his head off the bathroom counter. The crack of the shower rod echoes through the room. Trent's heart freezes as he feels himself losing balance, hurtling forward. He collides with a towel rack sending it crashing to the floor along with all his towels, effectively obstructing half the doorway. Trent finds himself sprawled on the floor, his mind whirling.

Body aching, he picks himself up from the floor. As if it wasn't going to be hard enough to get out of here. Shower rod in hand, he surveys the scene. Missing Tooth is scrambling, attempting to reach for his dropped blade. Trent plants his foot on the blade. Not tonight. They won't take me tonight. He grips the rod tight, swings it into Missing Tooth's head with a bone shattering impact. The body hits the floor, lifeless. As Trent reaches for the assailant's sword, one of the back ups in the doorway draws his. How many are there? He finds himself wondering, spotting the hint of another shadow just down the hall

I should be at headquarters soon. How soon until she starts to worry?

Trent points the blade at the approaching man, locking eyes with him. The bathroom floor, scattered with towels and blood offers no stable footing for combat for either of them. Both men hesitate to take a step towards the other.

Trent's next opponent has weathered, sun damaged skin. Overalls stained by sun, dirt and dark oil. A testament to a life spent toiling outdoors. His muscular physique hints at strength and power behind his swings- a formidable adversary.

Taking a cautious step forward, he maintains an eye on the farmer. "Even if you manage to defeat us today, your days are numbered. The leaders know where we are, where your headquarters is," The farmer snarls, pointing his blade at Trent.

Trent tightens his grip on the stolen sword as he plants his foot firmly on Missing Tooth's chest, slipping into his fighting stance. The farmer takes a step forward into the bathroom, blocking Trent from taking another step forward.

Trent growls as his foot slips. The farmer pushes his blade against Trent's. Trent takes a deep, calming breath. He turns his focus on the air around them. The farmer swings. Trent blocks. A small breeze begins to stir through the room. Neither Trent or the farmer is willing to back down as the blades press against each other. Trent's arms begin to shake as his muscles begin to burn. The blood soaked; towel covered floor gives no traction as Trent attempts to take another step in the farmer's direction.

Trent lets the breeze die as he takes a step backwards. He tosses the blade down, makes for a quick snag for the shower bar as the farmer takes a step towards Trent, grinning. The farmer swings at Trent. With the bar held firmly in both hands, he absorbs the blow. It leaves his muscles vibrating. The bar dents. Farmer swing again. The bar snaps. Trent takes another step back, his back hitting the wall.

Trent fights against the pounding in his chest. Keeps his eyes locked on the farmer. He launches the bar just over the farmer's head. It sails into the hall and crashes into the window. Glass both inside and out. Trent smiles at the sound, grabbing missing tooths sword again as the farmer straightens up. Trent runs him through before he manages to point his blade at Trent again.

The air flow from the now open window is a welcome feeling. Trent crosses the bathroom in quick strides. The wind ripples against him a bit more with each step. The third man swallows hard. His large addams apple bobbing in this throat. He adjusts his grip on his sword and shifts his weight. Dressed in a bright safety vest, hard hat, boots and pant legs cakes in dried mud, the man looks as if he just got off a construction job and is expecting dinner instead of ready to fight. Trent can't help but feeling a bit sympathetic to the man. A man who is resolved not to move from his spot in the doorway as Trent nears.

"Do you want us here when your precious girlfriend shows up, wondering why you stood her up?" The construction man asks.

The wind instantly dies. Trent stops in his tracks.

"What?" Trent falters, his voice a mix of concern and confusion.

"Do you really think we could plan an attack and break into your place without knowing?" The worker taunts. "We could always go for her if you want to keep resisting."

Trent lets out a primal roar. "You wouldn't dare." The wind picks up, swirling around with a newfound intensity. His next swing contains an all new vigor. Photographs lining the wall start to rattle. The wind pushes against the intruder, adding resistance to every movement as Trent continues his relentless assault.

"Want to bet on that? We only came for you. It's common sense she will be looking for you, it's up to you if we are here for that or not."

Trent hesitates for a brief moment, his eyes scanning the area. Three dead and he has yet to be able to escape his bathroom. He spots a few more Devil's Own lurking near the front door, ready to join the fight if necessary.

A subtle yet intoxicating fragrance permeates the air. The soft notes of Valery's warm vanilla mixing with Angela's natural scents mixing together. The smell turns Trent's stomach into knots.

He knew she was already here, giving me a chance to decide.

Trent squares his shoulders. Glares at the construction worker. "You won't lay a finger on her" he promises. "I won't let you guys take anyone else from me."

"Trent?" He hears Valery call.

Get her out of here! Trent mentally calls to Angela, praying she is close enough to hear his thoughts.

The wind responds to Trent's growing desperation, growing stronger, swirling around the room, pressing the construction worker against the wall.

The wind brings with it snippets of conversation, distorted and faint. Angela urging Valery into the car, Valery resisting.

The construction worker grins, Trent is as good as theirs. He nods to the others, three Devil's Own slip out the front door.

"NO!" Trent calls. He directs all the gathered wind to the construction worker. It batters against him, sending him flying a few feet down the hall before he crashes to the floor. "Leave her alone!"

Trent's heart sinks as he hears her scream rip through the air. The construction worker lets out a groan as he gets a leg back under himself and painfully rises from the floor.

"Surrender and we will let her go." He tells Trent as he stands slowly. "She is innocent, why should she suffer for your crimes?"

"She's completely unarmed!" Trent cries out, his eyes glued to the open window. She is all the way down there, her and Angela surrounded by three men, and him, unable to get past his own bathroom door to help.

"So? What will it be?" The man smirks. Trent drops to his knees. There is no choice. No one else will get hurt because of him. The wind disappears with his hope of freedom.

"Fine." He sighs. "I surrender."

"That's what I thought." The construction worker grins. The grin only deepens the despair in Trent's heart as he hangs his head. There's not a single sound from outside to hint as to what's become of Valery and Angela.

"Bastard." Trent mutters, watching the muddy feet come closer to him. Instead of a response, Trent feels a prick in his neck.

"Soon, you won't feel anything. Soon, you won't remember this. You won't be hurting long."

"Don't hurt them." He begs as the drugs start racing through his bloodstream, intoxicating his thoughts.

Muscles turning to liquid, he can't fight as his wrists and ankles are tied together. Feeling like a jellyfish floating its way along an ocean current, the construction worker and the last remaining Devil's Own grab the ropes and haul Trent up, out of the apartment.

The moment the final rays of the evening sun land on them, Trent's eyes dart around, looking for Valery. Two Devil's Own stand over them, the two girls slumped on the ground, motionless. The third is walking away, towards an SUV in the driveway, opening the trunk so they could deposit Trent.

"You said you wouldn't hurt them!" Trent objects, his voice slurred.

"I, personally, did nothing. And she isn't hurt, not really. A new injection was tested out on them. Took away their senses and put them to sleep. They should be fully recovered in a few days."

Trent keeps Valery in his vision for as long as possible, the image of her burned in his vision, seeing it long after they drive away.