This trip to Paris isn't going to get better, is it?

~

...Yeah...it didn't get better.

Turns out I was unconscious for ten hours before I woke up to little miss mind reader.

I've been in this stupid room for three days straight.

The doors and windows are locked twenty-four seven and I get a visit from Polly every afternoon on what's going on.

I think it's safe to say that whatever "business" that's taking place here isn't working out because each time Polly comes back to check up on me she gets angrier and angrier.

Then again, her anger could also stem from my lovely personality.

Anyways, its currently twelve A.M. and Polly isn't here.

Odd...

~THREE HOURS LATER~

Shouting...

"What ...is going on...?"

Shouting and yelling are what woke me from my nap.

"Hello... Can you keep it down?!"

Sitting up I stretch my arms and legs. Next thing I hear is the sound of grunting and cursing from an angry sounding guy right behind the locked door.

I shift quickly off the bed and move to the windows.

Hey, if some crazy, rabid monster-guy crashes through my door I want to have a fighting chance.

Right?

The noise stops.

The lock clicks open.

Polly enters the room with the biggest, most genuine smile I have seen her wear since I've meet her.

Right behind her came two big goons, dragging a third guy with them. He was battered and bruised with a bloody nose. A blinking collar was secured around his neck.

He also seemed to be knocked out.

"Um, Polly? WHO THE HECK IS THIS!"

As she spoke I noticed the real smile slip back into its polite, false mode.

"This, Ms. Ciprian, is the classified business I was sent here to take care of. Be ready to move out at six o'clock tomorrow morning. We're heading home."

With that, the enforcers dumped the still unnamed dude on my bed and walked out with Polly locking us in.

Great.

~ONE HOUR LATER~

I'm currently in the chair placed next to the bed, turned to see the TV. Earlier Polly came in and handed me a first aid kit then left with a slam of the door.

I cleaned up the guy to the best of my abilities. He still hasn't woken up, though.

As reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer play on screen in front, the sound of a grunt and movement emanate behind me.

I lazily cock my head to the still laying form.

"Hey...hey...are you sleeping?"

"...No, I'm training to die..."

I have never in my lifetime heard a more broken person muster so much sarcasm in one sentence than this man. Right here...

"Well, you keep acting like you are and that practice will soon pay off."

I pause before I ask another question.

"Say, who are you?"

The beaten blonde man turned his bruised face my direction and rasped out a reply.

"Pourquoi devrais-je vous dire?"

("Why should I tell you?")

"Because honey bunny, it looks like we're in the same boat. Also, what the heck am I going to call you?! Tattoo guy?"

By the way, it's true. The man has more ink then I have friends.

Ok, that's pathetic. Moving on...

After a pause the war that was raging on his face ceased. He shifts into an upright position and grimaces in pain. He looks to me for a minute then smirks.

"The names Trevor. And yours is?"

" Wow, what a smile, lady killer! The names Riri. It's a pleasure to meet cha' partner."

No sooner did I say that the sound of screaming echoed out from the front of the hotel we were in.

...

"Change of plans. We're leaving now!"

Polly and her goons burst through the door as her message was shouted into our minds.

One hauled Trevor up and on his feet even though the pain was obvious to see.The other guy grabbed my collar and dragged me along with them.

"What is going on? Who was that?!"

"Nothing that involves you, Ms. Ciprian. Just. Keep. Moving."

Her harsh words slip inside my mind and I go into autopilot.

I can't do a thing when we step inside the elevator.

I'm unable to flinch back when we step into the frenzy in the lobby.

I can't say a word when we move past a bloody body lying on the ground; people shouting and pushing and trying to call for help.

It's an employee from the looks of it.

I am unable to turn around to see the dead man's face.

I can't move for myself. I can, however, think for myself.

These people ...did this. They killed an innocent man. He probably over heard something and was slaughtered for it.

Out the door we went to a sleek, black car waiting patiently for us to arrive.

If I'm not careful...I'll end up like him. I'm sure of it, without my abilities.

Once all was in, we speed off to who knows were.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

___________________________________

SORRY!!!!! I'm so sorry that it took so long to get this chapter up.

I'm terrible at the whole updating-at-a-specific-time thing :/

Thank you for reading this far :D

Please comment, I love feedback!

**Also, I was informed by a friend of my Carehoy1130 that my main character's name is really hard to pronounce. When I say her name it's sort of like this: ReeRee. If there is another way you like to pronounce it it's fine by me.

What I'd imagine Trevor to look like!!!

(Again, not my art work, but still really cool!)