Hilda came to in a moving vehicle.
Something that smelled like an old cloth was pressing against her face, making the already stuffy air barely breathable. She opened her eyes and struggled a little, but it didn’t do any good. Whatever was covering her head was blocking the light out completely, and her body was tightly bound by something.
Her heart thundered as she tried to piece together the last moments she remembered. What the hell had happened?
Right, she had a small fight with Duncan and foolishly left on her own. Hilda had expected him to come running after her, to pull her into his strong arms and promise that he wouldn’t let her out of his sight ever again. She had expected him to profess his love for her, and that he had just been too embarrassed to accept her confession earlier.
But he never did.
Instead, Hilda found herself all alone in a small alley, facing down a group of cultists yet again. Like before, they came prepared this time as well.
But Hilda remembered putting up a pretty good fight. Or rather, the protection spells on her clothes did. A sizeable number of cultists had been knocked out either by her magic mace or the counter spells from her clothes’ defensive magic.
It wasn’t until one of them had snatched the weapon from her and used it to hit her that she finally went down. The defensive spells weren’t completely impenetrable, apparently.
Hilda tried to pull her arms free, but it didn’t work. Her wrists were tightly bound behind her back, and even the smallest movement sent shooting pain flying through her head. Still, she had to try.
After a few more painful attempts to break free, she finally gave up and remained still. Tears welled as panic rose like the water level in a rapidly sinking car.
Duncan, where are you?
There was a click, and a cooling breeze swept over her body, accompanied by harsh fluorescent light piercing through the hood over Hilda’s head. She shut her eyes and feigned unconsciousness, just in case someone pulled the hood off her.
“Think the girl’s awake yet?” a nasal male voice sneered, his Texan accent obvious even through the hood.
Hilda swallowed a scream and kept as still as possible, as though playing dead was going to do her any good. Please let me go… Please let me go… Please let me go—
Something jabbed her hard in her waist, and a yelp tore from her throat despite her best efforts to keep her mouth shut.
“Sounds like it,” a low-pitched female voice said in a thick Russian accent.
A pair of beefy hands practically swallowed Hilda’s small arms as they pulled her out of the vehicle’s trunk and slung her over their shoulder. She immediately started screaming, even though she could barely struggle through the bindings. If she was going down, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
After a few minutes of futile struggling, hard wood crashed into her body. Someone forced her body into a sitting position before ripping the hood off her head. Cooling air rushed in, and she squinted against the sudden glare coming from all around her.
Not that Hilda had been in many motel rooms before, but she could definitely tell that she was in one. Five fake chandeliers lit the entire room, and a velvety red carpet draped the floor where Hilda’s chair was scraping.
“Well, well, well. Getting to you was easier than I thought.” Miguel Chukwunyelu was sitting across from the girl. “Where’s your friend?”
Friend…
“Let me go, you creep!” Hilda yelled with a sudden burst of anger. “What do you want with me?!”
“Oof, that’s disappointing.” Miguel leaned back on his hardback chair. Hilda shuddered at the sight of the parasites peeking out from his pocket. “I wasn’t expecting the Angel of Life to be in such tasteless company. Then again, you are that traitor’s daughter.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, like before, you are my bargaining chip. No escaping this time, naughty girl,” the man said. “But what’s this? I sense resentment in your heart. Let me take a look.”
He leaned forward and stretched his fingers towards her chest—
“Ow!”
Sparks flew as the protective spells stung the man’s fingers like a grumpy wasp. He hissed, flicking his hand like he had just touched a burning stove.
“Wow!” Miguel exclaimed as he grinned despite the apparent pain. “That is one thick curtain of defensive magic you have there, girl. Did the Angel cast all that for you? He really does care a lot about you, I see. Are those involuntary defences?”
“Trust me. It’s completely voluntary,” Hilda snarled. It wasn’t a complete lie, after all. Those spells only seemed to work when she was conscious. “So what are you going to do now?”
Her heart pounded as she quietly worked out the loose knots on the rope around her wrists. Tight as they were, these bindings weren’t all that well-tied. She had to keep Miguel talking and keep his attention away from her hands.
“What a foolish question. I already told you, I’m going to use you as my bargaining chip.” Miguel smirked. “First, you’re going to help me lure out the Angel. I believe he doesn’t want to see you harmed. Secondly, your mother has been very naughty, so you will be her punishment for betraying the Marked Emissaries. Yes, I know she was the one who helped you escape. Should’ve known she valued her family more than her loyalty to our cause. Such a shame.”
“How did you find out?” The primary knot was undone. Onto the secondary one.
“My girl, I have advanced cameras in the basement where you were hiding. High-quality video recording and great audio quality, too. Some call them the wonders of the future. Well, the only wonders I care for are the divine wonders of God. Wonders like the Angel of Life. And soon, we can all be like him.”
“You’re delusional,” Hilda spat. “What even gave you that idea? He’s just a man. There’s nothing special about him.”
“Do I sense bitterness?” Miguel tilted his head. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with him, girl.”
Hilda’s mouth slammed shut as the man roared with laughter.
“So you did! And you call me delusional!” Miguel clapped his hands, rocking in his chair. “Fool of a girl, he is an Angel! We all know what happened the last time the Angels bred with the men. Did you truly think you stood a chance at winning his heart?”
Hilda’s heart ached, but the man was right. All she had was a silly crush just because he was the only one who had ever cared this much about her. How could she have fooled herself into believing otherwise all this time?
“Shut up, he’s no Angel.” The secondary knot was finally undone. “And you’re the fool for telling me your plans!”
She shook the rope off her wrists and flung her body towards the man. Miguel barely had time to react when both of them crashed onto the floor. He howled in pain as the girl ripped out a small chunk of his hair in the struggle.
Hilda’s legs went out from under her without warning.
Thick, sweaty fingers attempted to crush her windpipe as she tried to scream in vain. For better or for worse, Miguel had somehow forgotten all about his magic and was trying his best to physically choke her out instead.
So Hilda used that to her advantage.
She pulled the man close enough for her clothes to touch him, letting the protective spells do their job. Sure enough, Miguel was sent flying halfway across the room the moment he came into proximity, and Hilda seized the chance to stumble towards the door.
Soft carpet and soothing music greeted her ears as she practically rolled out of the motel room. Rubbing the bruises on her neck, the girl crawled to her feet and began sprinting down the elegant-looking corridor.
She had no idea where she was, nor did she know where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get out of this place—
Something slammed into her back. Something hard and sharp. Something that felt like it was small, but somehow weighed just about as much as a rubbish truck. It took her a few more seconds to realise that her ears were also ringing.
Hilda’s eyes widened at the crushed bullet on the floor. Cold sweat broke out at the realisation that she had just been shot, and she was still alive only because of the defensive magic.
A large figure charged towards her from the side, wielding some sort of syringe. He slammed into Hilda before she could react and sent her flying a few metres back. The girl gasped for air, winded by the tackle.
Dammit, that bullet must have destroyed all her protection spells.
Hilda flailed like a wild animal, panic and adrenaline guiding her movements now that she could no longer hide behind magic. The man trying his best to knock her out was yelling something in a Southern accent, but she was too busy fighting back to pay much attention to what he was saying.
Still, the syringe’s needle was inching closer with every second. Her strength was rapidly fading away, but there was just enough left for one last gambit.
The girl raised her leg and swung her heel back blindly, hoping that the shock would at least loosen her assailant’s grip. Surprisingly enough, he let go of her completely and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
By sheer luck, Hilda had kicked the man squarely in the crotch.
She shoved him aside and rolled away, leaving her assailant to groan on the floor with his hands between his legs. Hilda turned back; Miguel had not yet started giving chase for some reason, but this was no time to ponder why. She looked around desperately for the exit—
Another unmistakable gunshot cracked through the air, and Hilda froze on the spot.
“Enough, cyka.” A tall blonde woman had appeared out of nowhere and was keeping a pistol trained on her, her thick Russian accent barely comprehensible. “Move wrong, and I will shoot your kneecaps out.”
Hilda gulped and raised her hands in surrender.
“Good move.” The Russian woman motioned for her to back away. “No tricks, girl.”
Hilda stumbled over her feet as someone dragged her roughly from behind without warning. The next thing she knew, a coarse palm crashed into her face, flinging her whole body to the side with incredible force.
“That’s for kicking me in the balls, you little brat,” the man with the Southern accent snarled, pulling Hilda to her feet before she could fall on her face. He pulled out a different syringe with a yellowish liquid this time. “You won’t live to regret that—”
“Ross!” the Russian woman yelled before the man could plunge the syringe into Hilda’s skin. “Leader says he needs her alive.”
“Hmph.” Ross kept his syringe reluctantly. “For now.”
Another man walked up towards them.
“All that drama, and for what?” Miguel finally showed himself, sauntering towards Hilda. “We’re in the middle of a desert. What exactly was your plan? Run eight hundred kilometres across the sand?”
“If that’s what it takes to get away from your damn insects.”
“Don’t worry!” The man threw his head back in mock laughter. “You’re just a pathetic human; you’re not worthy to be infected by my Kiseigumos. All I need you to do is to sit quietly like a good girl and wait for your mother to fetch you, alright?”
Hilda struggled slightly against Ross’s iron grip. “You won’t win. Duncan will save me. Even if he doesn’t accept my love, I know he will still come for me!”
“I’m counting on that, girl.” Miguel sneered before turning to the two cultists. “Prepare the telegram machine. I’m going to send that traitor a message she can’t ignore this time.”
“What do you mean, ‘traitor’? My mother is a victim of your cult!”
“Victim? How naive can you be?” Miguel said. “Yuri Kitagawa was a spy in my organisation, as I have most recently found out. She has been getting careless in covering her tracks. Didn’t she tell you? She has always been a spy for the Japanese.”
Hilda faltered. “N— No… That’s not what she told me. That can’t be true!”
“Poor girl.” Miguel shook his head absentmindedly before gesturing to his cultists again. “Tie her up properly; use magic this time if you need to. Tell the rest to prepare for our final battle. The time has come for us to seize God’s gifts for ourselves…”
Hilda’s mind swirled with confusion, and she could no longer register anything else he said.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqKnMszN9Mp
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