Post by MONA ATHENA BLADE on Oct 28, 2012 17:45:50 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #d96a70 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] clear your throat and face the world For a few moments, she had tasted freedom. It wasn't but a couple of days ago that Mona's captors had lifted that barren, rusty key that belonged to her cell and clicked open the barred gate. Although Mona's cage had been opened many a-time for food and such, this particular time was suspicious because several men came in, one with handcuffs. The others were well-equipped, obviously men not of the same rank as the ones who usually brought the gladiators food. The only though that coursed through her head at that moment was what had she done this time? Mona assumed they were moving her to a different cell or something like that, but she was instead presented in front of a potential buyer like some sort of trophy. Despite her struggling and cursing and snapping, she was apparently the ideal candidate for the crazy man that had decided to snatch her up. Immediately following the purchase, Mona already knew that she despised this man. With every breath that he took, she loathed him more. She didn't care for his name (though apparently he was called Alexander), his job, his life. All Mona knew was that she wasn't to be 'owned'. Being a rogue gladiator was one thing, but being 'owned' by some Utopian scum really got under her skin. And Mona was not going to settle easily. She was a fighter. A real Hell spawn. Maybe Alexander didn't know or just didn't care. However, Mona would make him see the light! Today was her third or so day of torturous servitude. Her blood had been boiling for three whole days. She was going to explode soon. That was a guarantee. Her eyes had preyed on her so-called owner, watched, inquired, and observed. Her mind had foolish but bold thoughts. She could be free forever, if only this man were not standing in her way! As she saw it, if she escaped now, she would only be sought after by her owner. But if she killed him, she would have quite a few days before the body was even found to flee to the Outlands! Her logic was flawless. Mona cared not for the consequences of murder. Her life could not be any worse than it was now, so she figured she had nothing left to lose. However, Mona was not entirely stupid when it came to premeditated homicide. After all, she often had to pinpoint her enemy's weaknesses far before their swords ever clashed. And that was in a matter of, what, three or four seconds? She knew there were probably a few cameras around his home, both inside and outside. She knew he was of a greater status than most Utopians, so he had to have some sort of surveillance. Wicked people were often the most paranoid. Mona had seen him pacing about enough to know that he was probably in his own chamber by now. Approaching the door silently, she reached to turn the knob, only to find that it was locked. She attempted once more. And again. On her fourth attempt, she violently thrashed against the doorknob. She hurled her shoulder against the door, growling as she staggered backwards from the impact. Mona tried one more time to ram her weight against the door. By now, she didn't care if he heard the commotion outside (which he would have to be deaf not to). She was going to get away with murder! Growing tired of the insolence of the door, Mona finally unsheathed the sword at her side. Glimmering beautifully with the foreshadow of death, the blade rose above Mona's head and struck at the hinges of the doorknob with extraordinary precision. She continued to slash and hack at the handle until she grew fed up. After reaching her absolute boiling point, Mona reared back and shoved the point of the blade into the wood of the door. In a fit of desperation, she clawed and kicked at the obstacle until logic was restored to her mind. With sanity and blood back in her brain, Mona was fairly sure that this Alexander guy wouldn't hesitate to come out with guns blazing after hearing such a ruckus. Mona wasn't normally one to flee, but she had an acute, almost animalistic fear of firearms. Even just hearing the cocking of a gun was enough to send her flying in the opposite direction. Forcefully, and with a determined grunt, Mona jerked the blade out of the wood and bolted off toward the front door. However, she did not leave, as she knew she would be instantly recognized on the streets. It was time to take a stand or die trying. case open, case shut |