At The Warehouse:

Blood.

Red, thick and velvety blood dripped out of the man in slow and grizzly movements. One could occasionally hear him gulp in huge gasps of breath. Saying that he was hurt was a huge understatement.

The broad-shouldered man in his early twenties was tied up in a wooden chair. His fingers were shaking, and the air seemed to be burning the flesh where his nails had been plucked out. His face was beyond recognition as it was now coloured with blue-black swells around his lips, cheeks and his left eye.

"You were with Mr Bakshi. Who gave him the info ?" a tall young man questioned the half-dead person.

The man weakly shook his head and rolled his eyes as he coughed painfully. He saw his interrogator eye him worriedly and slightly smirked at him.

"No?" he heard a deeper voice say. He couldn't see properly though he sensed the bulk of a man kneel before him.

A shriek roared through the entire place as someone pressed on his bleeding fingertips.

"Liked it better when you had nails right?" his original interrogator sneered.

Amidst the torture, the screaming man spat a mouthful of blood, mucus and saliva onto the person before him. Every ounce of his remaining energy was used up into rage for the one man he hated wholeheartedly at the moment.

"I.... won't .... e-ever.... tell.... you," he managed to say through gritted teeth.

The man who was kneeling stood up and chuckled in a deep voice. He took out a gun and immediately put a bullet through his head. Wiping the spit off his face in disgust, he turned to look at the tall guy who was eyeing him with slight umbrage. His long nose was flaring as he gritted his teeth tightly.

It was an amusing sight.

"Did you have to kill him sir?" the bulky guy asked him.

He simply shrugged. Being the boss, he could do whatever pleased him. There was no way he was going to allow that sneaky bastard to live. It was the only way his identity could be hidden.

"He knew too much. Don't waste time on this bastard. There's a woman we must go after. Supposedly a girl," the man answered grimly, after some time.

"How do you know she might know something?" the tall guy wondered, his bushy auburn eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sources, Jordan. Sources."

*

At Home:

The window smashed into a thousand pieces like a shower of rain.

Catherine yelped as she carried her daughter down the stairs of her house. She was careful to not trip on her way.

Instead of the front door, she made her way to the opposite part of the house, away from the stairs and the front door.

The back door.

A doubtful thought crossed her mind that perhaps they already had it covered, but she quickly dismissed it. The back door was the only choice.

She set a crying and squealing Cinereal down and brushed her sweaty, light brown hair off her face. Her mother's heart pierced with pain when she saw her child bleeding from an eyebrow cut. Perhaps broken shrapnel of glass had struck her daughter's sweet temple when they were hurrying down the stairs.

Catherine forced a calming smile on her face.

"Cinereal baby, I want you to run out the back door and go to the police station daddy always took you to. Okay?" she instructed slowly despite the sounds of banging and shooting.

More windows broke, and bullets whizzed past them. Cinereal nodded fearfully.

"Don't look back and don't worry about mommy. She'll talk to these naughty kids," she comforted.

Cinereal quickly nodded and whimpered slightly.

"What if the kids don't go away?" she asked innocently.

They'll do more than just stay love, Catherine thought.

"Then I'll give them a box on the ear each. Now go! And don't look back. I love you!"

Catherine gave her daughter a little push. As soon as Cinereal began running in small steps, she took her gun out of her back pocket and removed the safety clip.

She had to buy time for her daughter. A thought crept into her mind that Richard had probably become what she had feared, and her chest ached deeply. She waited for the mafia to come to get her. Specifically, her daughter.

As tears rushed down her face, she stood firmly a little away from the back door with the gun pointed out in front of her towards the door.

Soon, the door burst open and she started shooting blindly as men stormed in, equipped with far more advanced weapons than the handgun she held.

A couple of shots were fired at her. She could feel the pain etch itself deep inside her. Fire started flaming furiously in various parts of her body. The agony was too much for her to take in. She felt herself burn away with it.

"God save you, dear. You're alone now," she whispered as she fell to her knees with multiple bullets in her.

*

Meanwhile:

Had Cinereal turned back then, she might have seen her mother plummeting to the floor with red coloured liquid seeping out of everywhere.

However, being occupied with her assigned task, she did not turn back to check on anyone. Instead, she ran past the door and out into the garden. She had managed to get out through the wiry fence surrounding her house when she was roughly yanked back by the arm.

Her left arm caught on a wire, and a long gash cut into her forearm.

A rippling agony tingled the broken nerves of her arm. She had no idea what was happening as pain was the only thought which occupied her attention.

"Who is she? That bastard's kid?" someone asked.

Cinereal could see the magical stars before her, but the pain prevented her from reaching them. She glanced down to see blood creeping out of a long line on her arm. A small part of her chest tightened at that sight. Her head ached with nausea when she looked up.

"That's none of your business," a stranger's voice said.

Mommy will give me one of those band ajes. Or band yades. From those big plus sign boxes, Cinereal comforted herself mentally.

"What is her name again?" another asked. It sounded like the same voice from before.

Cinereal.

She wanted to tell them her name. It was only good manners, but she was unable to muster up the courage to speak. She was swaying from side to side as she glanced at the man who felt the most authoritative.

Cinereal giggled despite the pain when she saw the thick neck of the man. When he looked at her, she cringed back until she located the warmth in his eyes.

Are those black or brown?

Cinereal staunchly remembered her mother lecture her that black eyes did not exist. The friendly figure of the man smiled slightly down at her. He had such thin lips! Even a wide nose. Pride swelled inside her head as she registered that her daddy was far more handsome than this man. She giggled some more, and the magical stars returned with her jocular thoughts. The pain once again became more evident.

It hurts! Where is mommy?!

"From now on," his voice slurred as he spoke. "she's Teresa. Now let's leave without a scintilla of evidence that we were ever here"

And then she lost her consciousness.

*****

Well well well! How was that for a start? Good enough? Not addictive enough?
Let me know what you think in the comments section!

Zan_kouv this one is dedicated to you for keeping up with me and my life!

Thank you for reading and hopefully you vote!!!!!!

Meet you two days later HOO HOO HAA HAA!!  XD