A story i decided to write when I lost the 'oomph' to continue my NaNoWriMo task.
“Please let me go." A girl begged, tears streaming down her bruised and scratched face. "What have I done?"
"Shut up.” A man snapped, slapping her across the face angrily. She fell onto the cold stone floor. “I want to kill her, please? She’s getting on my nerves. See? She’s crying again.”
“No, Boss needs her for the experiment.”
“This thing? She couldn’t even move her own leg earlier.”
“Help me.” She whispered to the floor as the two man continued arguing in the room. “Please help, I’m so scared and in pain.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I can’t hear her.”
“She doesn’t sound religious. Oi girl.” The man poked her in the arm with his foot. “You better not be dead.”
“Nah she looks alright, probably pleading for her life quietly. Leave her.” The other man said. “Hey boss.”
“Is she alive?” A deeper voice asked.
“Yes sir. Just being pathetic.”
“Another eh? Shame. Right, bring her with us.”
“No! Let me go.” She screamed as the man grabbed her and pulled her up roughly by her arm.
“Noisy thing we should teach you to be quiet, you’re in need of a les…”
The Boss suddenly stopped and looked to his chest. A silver blade, now stained with his blood, protruded out.
As he fell forwards onto his front a figure, wearing a black robe with a hood hiding their face, raised the sword then cut down the other two before they could act.
The girl fell to the floor then shuffled into a corner. “Who… are you?” She asked. “Are you going to kill me too as I saw you?”
“Why would I do a thing like that for?” An Irish accent said from the figure. “I was sent by me boss to stop ye getting hurt, looks like ye called for us a bit too late mind. Your face is a mess.”
Shocked at the accent, the girl blinked then gasped. “Oh. You’re here to help.”
“Of course I am, ye think I’m not? Can’t ye understand me?” The figure asked angrily.
“Oh uh… yeah I guess I do. It just takes a while to hear through your accent.”
“Oh, I understand ya now. Hang on, I’ll call me superior. He speaks in an English accent.” The figure withdrew a phone from deep within the robes then pressed some buttons. “No I’m not out yet, some girl I have to save is saying me accents too thick. No I understand ye.”
She passed over the phone then looked out.
“Ah Miss Evener, I’m sorry but she was the only one available. A bit blood thirsty and a thick Irish accent.”
“She? Oh okay.”
“She’ll get you out then bring you to get cleaned up then we’ll talk about the price.”
“Oh sure. Thanks a lot.”
The other end hung up.
“Alright now? Come on.” The saviour carried her out as her legs were weak still then they went to a back door in an alleyway.