The Monster's Protege

One

A U R O R A

17 years old, past

My captive's attention snapped back to me as writhed and struggled to get away from his clutch. It was impossible like I was trying to move some mountain. He towered over me, glaring at me with his piercing blue eyes as I thrashed at his arm with my free hand. And when it was established that I was no match for his strength, I stopped.

Breathing hard, my knees gave away and dizziness kicked me down. Forget food, I couldn't even remember the last time I had drank a glass of clean water. Cold and thirst parched my mouth inside out. Whatever little energy I had sailed away when the adrenaline kicked in, and I lost the fight.

"Dominic, what happened?" Another towering figure of muscles walked in with a black leather jacket while I fought against the dizziness.

"We have a tiny problem here, Viktor," the man who gripped my wrist in one hand and whose name was Dominic, I supposed, said coolly.

Viktor, the black leather jacket guy, strolled a little closer and spared me a look. "What is this?" he asked with visible disgust, almost ignoring the fact that I was a human being and not merely a bag of flesh.

"Little thief," Dominic muttered, letting go of my wrist. "She was found stealing our drugs from the southern warehouse."

I mentally snorted. He said 'our drugs' as if it was some legitimate thing. If I were a criminal, he was in the same boat as I was. Except he was a better one.

"It was a one-time thing," I muttered low as both the men glanced down and fixed me with an incredulous look.

"What?" I questioned both of them.

Dominic smirked and looked at the other guy, Viktor, who wasn't very keen on smiling. He wore a deadly blank expression that was almost impossible to decipher. Squatting down to my level, his eyes raked over my physical condition more intently than ever.

He pinched my chin between his fingers, imprisoning my gaze to his. "You are a junkie, girl?"

"No," I answered harshly, swatting away his hand. Little did he know... Addiction was the least of my transgressions. "I wanted some money. I was hungry."

"Are you really buying this story?" Dominic asked his brother.

Viktor didn't respond. He merely rose up to his height and looked around the room. The man whose leg I had slashed was completely forgotten until Viktor pointed his finger and asked Dominic, "She did this?"

"Exactly."

The brothers shared a silent look, almost like they could read each other's mind. The blue irises were common to them and so was their physique. Except for some features and the haircut, one could easily see the resemblance they sported.

While they were busy having the telepathic conversation, from the corner of my eyes I saw that the door was still ajar. In this room, two men were busy while the other had his leg injured. What was the probability that if I attempted to run away I would make it out of here alive?

My tryst with death had always been extremely bold and audacious.

The first time when my father was trying to beat the hell out of me, I fled.

The second time when the warden tried to rape me at the detention center, I fled too.

Would I be lucky the third time, as well?

There was only one way to find out.

Once again, I ran.

I raced through the door with every ounce of energy left inside my body. But the only problem was that it was a dead end. There was another door, the same iron clad and no matter how much I huffed and puffed, it would not open.

Guess I wasn't so lucky the third time.

"Are you done?" A voice rumbled from behind but I couldn't tell which one of the brothers was it. Both of them kind of had a similar growl.

Slowly turning around, I saw Viktor and Dominic leaning against the doorway. Dominic looked pissed, he always was. But Viktor...he still had the deadpan expression etched across his strange manly face.

And no matter how much I fought to keep up the brave facade, it was slowly slipping away. Dying was one thing but painful death? I wasn't yet ready for that. Every girl of my age dreamt of becoming something in life, maybe a doctor, dancer, or model. Everyone had plans to execute but my goal was to live another day.

Growing up, I always had a special intuition for danger. And I could very well fathom if the danger was looking right into my eyes with a menacing glare. And right now, Viktor is doing exactly the same.

The gun holsters under both his arms and the knife sheathed around his waist spoke volumes about his personality or the profession he was involved in.

"Look...just...please. Please just..." I stammered without making any sense, my back scraping against the iron door. "Just...let me go. I won't ever cross your path."

"You stole my drugs. You attacked my men. You tried to escape." Viktor smirked for the first time. "I have killed people for less."

"I told you...I was just hungry. I thought stealing the drugs would get me some money. And I really needed the money." The desperation in my voice came out effortlessly.

"What is your name, girl? And where are your parents?" he interrogated, still unmoved from where he was.

"My mother is dead."

"Father?"

"I killed him," I blurted out without any regret. I was not a sociopath. The day I stuck the vase at the back of his skull, all I wanted to do was save my mother. My alcoholic, abusive father later succumbed to the injuries.

Viktor looked somewhat surprised at my revelation but didn't say a word.

"He was beating my mother," I explained without being asked.

Dominic strode closer and grabbed me by the nape roughly. Neither could I resist the force nor did I wish to. He dragged me back to the same cold room, hurling me to the floor and towards the corner.

"What's your name?" Dominic pressed.

"Aurora."

"Full name?" And when I hesitated longer than intended, he growled, "Do not think of lying to us."

"Aurora Hall."

Viktor typed something on his phone quickly and showed it to Dominic who furrowed his brows and looked at it with rapt attention. While their attention was occupied, I saw my knife that Dominic had kicked away earlier was lying a few centimetres away.

But what was the point? I would be a fool to believe that I could stand a chance against both of them, even with a gun.

"You killed a prison guard?" Viktor's voice made my head snap. How the hell did he know?

I shrugged. "He was trying to...rape me. And then I escaped from there."

"Bloody hell," Dominic muttered and shook his head.

Viktor and Dominic were criminals, some sort of gang I presumed, dealing with drugs. So, did I just escape from one devil's lair to end up dead in another?

"Pick it up," Viktor ordered as I glanced up questioningly, and he pointed his chin towards the knife.

Shit! He saw me. He saw it right through me and I couldn't even deny it. My gaze simply darted between the knife and his blue orbs.

Was he testing me? Was he going to pull his gun out the moment I would grab the knife?

"I said it PICK IT UP!" he snapped loudly making me jump.

Gingerly, I crawled forward with bruised knees and picked up the knife. Cold and anticipation shook my body while my breathing laboured. Even in my toughest moment, I wished, I prayed, for a miracle that I would survive this, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"On your feet. Up!" he ordered with the same snappy tone.

Ignoring the fear and hunger painfully knotting my stomach, I slowly stood up on my shaking legs.

Viktor was tough to figure out. His clinical expression gave away none and you won't know whether he was going to kill you or let you go. He was calm-dangerously, mysteriously and darkly composed.

"I will give you two choices. Either I kill you, quickly and painlessly or you take a shot at me with the knife and earn your freedom. Three minutes. Within three minutes if you can put a scratch on me, I will let you walk out of here and in one piece."

"And what if I...I couldn't put a scratch on you? Would you kill me then?" I asked, holding my breath.

He smirked. "Winner's choice," he declared. "Now tell me, what’s your choice?"

Death was never a choice for me. I wanted to live.

I knew saving myself from this situation was near impossible but I would rather die trying. That was all I was left with—my fighting spirit and I didn't come so far to back down.

I met his eyes with a determined look. "I will fight you."