I wince in pain as I feel the blade on my back draw blood.
"Why?" I hiss under my breath. I feel my captor inhale sharply and then tighten their hold on me.
"To make it believable," I just barely hear them whisper back.
I ignore them, slowly looking up and scanning my surroundings, trying to appease the masses eagerly watching me. I feel watchful eyes everywhere.
I can feel the suspense and anticipation in the air. I try to move, but my captor just kicks my back, causing me to lose balance. This time, I cry out loud in agony as my captor pulls my body up by painfully grabbing my hair – I'm sure they've pulled out a few roots.
My eyes widen even more as I hear the croud's sadistic cheers all around me.
The lights dim and focus on the Ringmaster, drawing everyone's attention away from me. I sigh in relief as my captor lessens their hold on me, just enough so that I have space to breath, but still tight enough so that I couldn't run away.
I tentatively stand up and rub my eyes and look at my captor –a male one- curiously. Why did he release me? Is he a traitor of some sorts?
He starts speaking in an almost inaudible whisper, and I peer closer to listen, "- when the lights refocus on us, I will pinch your arm and let go. All you have to do is run out of the tent and find Warehouse 21. Inside, everything will be explained. Do I make myself clear?"
I look at him in disbelief, "Why should I follow what you –a traitor- says?"
Instead of answering, he presses his blade on my back.
Gulping, I shrink back. "Answer me," I say again with false bravado, trying to feel more confident.
He notices and I see the gears running behind his eyes. "Let's say that if you don't follow what I said," he starts, sliding a finger through the blood that was still gushing on my back, "it won't be a good thing." To my disgust, he licks the blood off his finger.
I try to hide my distaste. I open my mouth to speak back, but the lights have already resurfaced and the audience was –once again- solely focused on me.
"Ready?" I hear him ask. I didn't have time to give a reply before he pinches me, hard, and completely detaches himself. I look around, trying to analyze the fastest escape route, before I just give up and ran like a madman.
It all happened at once, too fast for my mind to comprehend at the moment. The crowd was in an uproar, and the Ringmaster was hastily ordering workers to catch me. I hear a piercing scream, and I knew that my captor was done for. I didn't even slow down.
Instead of following what my captor said, I decided to flee- to go as far as possible. I tried to blend in the crowd, but it was hard. Here I was, dressed in rags, trying to mimic snobby aristocrats, all the while avoiding workers from the 'act'.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm what is left of my nerves. I'm sure they're deep-fried.
I start to walk around, lingering in the shadows, trying not to draw attention to myself. I see a few people peer at me curiously, but it wasn't too much.
Suddenly, I remember what my captor told me. Warehouse 21. I was supposed to go there.
I look around, finding no warehouses. Why would there be warehouses in a freak-sadistic carnival?
I shake my head a few times, somewhat convincing myself that my captor was a traitor and a liar. Why would I believe whatever comes out of his mouth?
I then see a person approaching me, so I straighten my spine and brush off imaginary lint off my rags. Not much, but it will have to do.
"We had no choice, girl. You were told to come to Warehouse 21, yet you didn't."
Suddenly, the world was black.