A screaming pain tore Alice from her sleep, wrenching her upright, her mind racing in confusion, unsure of her surroundings. Her mouth was dry and her heart pounded, it’s weak thready pulse sending shivers through her. She was hurt, badly! In front of her her hands lay, drenched in sweat and drained of colour. She shook, terrified, unsure of what had happened.

It was then she noticed the numbing pain, that overflowed from her abdomen, it made her want to scream and yell at the top of her lungs, but Alice kept quite, desperately trying to assess the situation. Slowly she reached downwards, her hand hesitant to move closer, as if trying to protect her from something. Reaching her abdomen an overwhelming sensation of warmth was transmitted through her hand, as tears began to unconsciously roll from her eyes, a silent scream echoing through her fractured mind. She’d been shot!

The bullet had torn through her jacket and clothes, leaving a gaping exit hole in her flank. Bright crimson blood poured from the wound, seeping viciously through her garments and into the soil below. Quickly Alice applied pressure to the wound, hoping to stifle the flow of blood, faltering as she attempted to stand, her legs weak and unsteady. She walked slowly, dragging her body along with pure will, her strength all but gone. All around her the world twisted, it’s order distorted, collapsing in on itself. She couldn’t think, her breathing rapid, with each breath becoming more shallow than the last.

Without warming another gunshot rang out, a second bullet striking Alice cleanly in the shoulder, the impact knocking her from her feet once more. A helpless cry breaking from the girl’s lips. While behind in the distance a set of heavy footsteps could be heard, slowly covering the distance towards her.

"It wasn’t very smart of you to run, now was it," that familiar voice asked, their eeri mocking tone even more vile than it had been a few minutes before. Alice turned to see Samuel, who stood, towering over her, flanked by two men, their faces cold and emotionless.

"That’s a lovely wound you have there," he commented, stooping down to examine it. "Such radiant crimson! What a beautiful flower."

Deftly, he used the muzzle of his gun to pry away the chunks of flesh and fabric, soaked in blood, that clung to her wound. A perverse smile could clearly be seen, his eyes shining in excitement as he toyed with the wound.

"Luckily for you... or unluckily maybe? The bullet seems to of only passed through your colon."

"Wonderful," Alice spat, through clenched teeth. "Fancy taking a photo for me? I’m sure it’ll look great on my wall..."

"Oh my! How impressive. I’m surprised you even managed to talk in the state you’re in, let alone make such fearless comments."

"You know, I’m even surprising myself here," Alice quipped, the taste of blood filling her mouth. Her hatred of him binding her scattered mind together.

"Well. Let’s see how long you can keep this facade running shall we?"

"Sure... Sounds fun... just let me get comfortable alright. I don’t wanna miss the show."

"Foolish girl," Samuel snorted, holstering his revolver and turning to face his bodyguards. "Damian, restrain her. I don’t care what you do, just keep her still. If she so much as attempts to move in a way you don’t like, well... you know what to do." He continued. "And Roche, call the others off of the search, we need them here. I won’t accept anyone interfering, is that understood?"

"Yes boss! Right away boss!" The two guards chimed in unison, quickly splitting off into their designated tasks, Roche pulling out his phone while Damian, strolled over and restrained Alice, forcing her to sit upright, her hands bound behind her. Alice wanted to struggle, to break free from his grasp, but she was weak, almost to the point where she was thankful for his help in holding her upright. All in all, if it wasn’t for the excruciating pain she could say that she was quite comfortable.

It only took a few minutes for Samuel’s men to begin filing into the forest, crowding around her while sporting their Kalashnikovs with an almost childlike glee. Idiots, Alice thought, trying not to sigh too loudly, her eyes rolling back into her head.

At the center of the group Samuel stood, tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for everyone to arrive. He was determined to get what he wanted. He’d waited too long for his chance to take the top, and he wasn’t about to let one girl and her wisecracking mouth get in his way.

"Now then Alice, let’s begin," Samuel declared, seemingly asking for his men’s approval, their wicked jeering becoming just another part of the show, ready for his enjoyment.

Alice didn’t respond, feigning ignorance, her eyes tightly shut. "Don’t ignore me..." Samuel hissed, grabbing her hair and wrenching her head upwards.

At this Alice opened one eye and calmly responded, a wide set grin across her face. "Oh sorry about that. I’d kinda drifted off..."

The interrogation itself was a fairly simple affair. Samuel would ask Alice the question, then she would answer. With him hitting or beating her as soon as she said something he didn’t like or just plain didn’t want to hear. Samuel’s true motive was easy to see and honestly, it played right into Alice’s hands. All she had to do was say the right phrase here, the right insult there and he’d smack her about a bit before continuing his questioning. Which was handy, especially when she felt like she’d pass out any moment due to the lack of blood in her body.

"Where is the rest of it," Samuel asked for the umpteeth time, stepping back from Alice, her blood still dripping from his left hand.

"Damn! How aren’t you bored of this yet?" Alice joked, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the forest floor, her eyes shining definitely from her battered and bruised features.

"Look here! You’re going to die either way, but the sooner you tell me where you stashed the items, the sooner I put you out of your misery," Samuel explained, his expression twisted in exasperation from all the repeated questioning.

"Samuel, I’ve told you. I don’t know where it is. The guy, the one in the dumb Hawaiian shirt, he’s probably got it. So why don’t you stop hitting me, and go look for him?"

"There was no man in a Hawaiian shirt! Just you," Samuel declared, his face right next to hers.

"You just don’t give up do you Sam-" Even before Alice could finish her jeering remark, Samuel shot out a back hand swing, striking her in the jaw and knocking her to the ground.

Releasing his tightly clenched fist that shook in anger and frustration, he ordered, with a quick flick of his for her to sat up once. The bodyguard complying immediately, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, grabbing Alice by her hair and wrenching her back to her knees. All the while Alice did nothing but smile, her devilish, sickly sweet smile, that grinned victoriously. Alice, evidently quite proud of herself.

"You’ve lost Sam. You don’t mind if I call you Sam right? I just feel we’ve gotten to know each other so well over the last hour or so," Alice said, jeeringly. "You did this all behind your boss’s back, what’s going to happen when they find out?"

"You think I’m afraid of the empty threats, and the jeering of a small girl," Samuel boasted, laughing wildly as he did so.

"Then you’re more of a fool than I though..." Alice lamented, seeing Samuel for what he really was, a sadistic and power hungry upstart, who had more power than sense. A sickening reflection of herself.

"I’m what? What did you say?" He said, drawing his revolver and placing it to her forehead.

"I said you’re a fool. So go on, do it. It’s what we’ve both be waiting for, isn’t it? So go on. Pull the trigger!" Said Alice, her words urging him on, intent on making him do it. She no longer cared for her life, she just wanted to take him down with her.

Samuel hesitated, unsure of whether to do it. He wasn’t afraid of her or her empty threats, but something about it made him uneasy. His hand drawing away from her slowly as he spoke, his voice deadly calm. "No. I won’t kill you... Not yet anyway but when I’m done with you and the time comes you’ll beg for it. Who knows... if you give me what I want, I might even consider it."

"So what? You going to go back to beating me? I’m sorry to break it to you, but that hasn’t been going too well for you so far, has it?"

"No, it hasn’t, but I’m sure what I’ll do next will, I assure you," Samuel stated, strolling off towards him men, not once bothering to look back.

Around him his men stood, unsure, confused by the spectacle that had unfolded. They wanted to speak out, to express their concern, but they knew better. Samuel Jones was a man they respected and feared in equal measure, demanding their absolute and utter devotion to his cause, punishing those who’d betray him in cruel, twisted ways. It was this fear of him that grabbed their hearts as he approached, freezing them in place and sealing their lips.

It was then a voice called out, shocking the men, their eyes darting to it’s source. "What’s the plan then Samuel?" There in the center of them a lean man, dressed all in black stood. It was Samuel’s second in command, Roche, a man of few words and fewer emotions.

"..."

"Come on Samuel, what are we going to do?" Said Roche as Samuel closed the distance between them, finally stopping scant few inches from his face.

"Give me your knife," Samuel whispered, his words deliberate and slow, a deep anger seething beneath them.

"Hmpf... alright, just don’t get too carried away, we’re here for information, nothing else," he reminded, taking Samuel’s revolver and handing him his combat knife.

"Oh, are we finally getting to the good stuff? Cause those lame arse punches of your’s weren’t really doing it for me, But you know, it takes a special kind of idiot to try and use a knife on someone who’s already been shot twice. It’s almost like trying to get water from a stone? Or was it blood, I forget..." Alice remarked, noticing the knife that Samuel held as he approached her.

"I think I’ll managed," he smirked, kneeling before her. "You know, I could cut your ever so pretty face to bits... but I won’t," he said, running the cold steel of the blade across her cheek. "It’ll be something so much worse than that, I promise you."

"Don’t make promises you can’t keep, women hate that sort of thing."

"I’m sure they do, but sadly I don’t care." Samuel smugly replied, staring at the knife, rocking it back and forth, testing the balance, enjoying the feel of the cold steel in his hand.

"I’m sorry to say Alice, but the fun and games are over," Samuel solemnly retorted, standing once more.

"Do your worst!"

"I intend to," he grunted. "Damian restrain her please, I don’t want any mistakes."

At that Damian forced her head downwards, forcing Samuel from sight, while in the same moment also stretching her left arm out behind her, the back of her palm grazing gently against the rough, scratchy bark of the oak tree. In futile desperation Alice tried to force her head up, only barely catching sight of Samuel’s feet as the stepped to her side.

"Don’t worry, this is only going to hurt a lot!" Samuel whispered as he spun the knife around into a reverse grip, planting his foot heavily before stabbing it at full force into the open palm of Alice’s hand, staking her to the tree.

The pain was instantaneous, with every fiber of Alice’s body wanting to scream in agony but she kept quite, clenching her teeth in defiance. It would be too easy to scream, to cry, to beg. That was what he wanted her to do and she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction, not now, not ever.

"Raise her head," he calmly ordered. "I’m not done with her yet."

Next Chapter: 6 - Turmoil II: The Weak Inherit The Earth