The sun was starting to rise as the streets of London were awakened by its early citizens who left in a hurry for their everyday work.
On the other hand, Hunter Brown and his right-hand man, Blade Jones, were handling a business deal in one of the back alleys in Birmingham.
Their active night had just ended, and a good one it was.
They had just closed a deal with a rival gang, now coming together to expand their product and double up.
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Hunter lit a cigarette and sighed, "We need to celebrate this, huh? What do you say? My place?" Blade nodded, always down for a drink or a joint, "Yeah, sounds good!" Blade replied as he lit up a cigarette as well.
A silent cry was heard, and Hunter narrowed his eyes and tried to make out where it had come from as he took a drag from the cigarette,
"You hear that? Right?"
"Hear what?" Blade asks as he tries to understand what Hunter meant.
"Fuck me, it's coming from the container over there!" Hunter shouted and rushed over to see what it was.
He leaned over and saw a lot of cartons and junk, but then a rolled-up carpet caught his eye.
"Damn, hurry up, Blade." Blade rushes to Hunter's side and leans over to see what he is swearing over.
"Is that what I think it is?" Blade uttered nervously, "Yeah, I think it is," Hunter replied, putting out his cigarette and climbing down the dumpster. He lifted the carpet and handed it over to Blade's stretched arms, and then both men rolled it out on the ground.
"Fuck!" Blade said when they saw Mallory's beaten-up body appear in front of them.
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Mallory thought she would rather be dead when the pain embraced her.
Every inch of her body felt broken, and she had never experienced the misery she had endured when Mr. Wraith began to ravish her with force. She thought she had died that night. But it seemed like fate had other plans, and the claustrophobic way she had woken up into was horrifying. She could not move, even if she tried, so she began to sob and gave up.
This was it; this is the way I am going to go. Rolled up and tossed away like a piece of trash.
But voices from nearby made her frightened. He was coming back, and now he would kill her, once and for all.
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"Hey! Are you alive?" Hunter asked as he studied Mallory with a puzzled look. Mallory, however, was frightened. She didn't know these men, and as she glanced around, she began to panic. Where was she?
She cried out in fear when she saw a rat underneath a dumpster; she tried to stand up, only to be failed by her broken body.
"Hey! Take it easy," Hunter spoke calmly and looked over at Blade.
"What should we do?" He asks, and Blade shrugs, "Call an ambulance and let them deal with it,"
"Yeah, that might be for the best; who knows what she's been through," Hunter utters with a gray tone and feels a shiver. This was evil, pure evil. He had never seen a person this beaten up before.
Growing up, he had been in many fistfights, but it usually ended with a broken nose and a ripped eyebrow. This was sadistic. She looked terrified, and he felt awful just standing there looking at her, powerless.
"Hey! We can't stand here; people will see somethings up; let's call them and get the hell out of here already!" Blade gritted, and the girl winched when he did, "Shut up, Blade, you scaring her, you fool," Hunter replied and took up his phone to make the call.
"Please, don't. No hospital. Let me die," Mallory whispers as she tries to speak out with a dry throat. Hunter hung up the call.
"I can't let you die?" He replies and frowns at a confused Blade.
"For fuck sake. Bring her to your place, and we can discuss this further. People are starting to glance over here while passing," said Blade, all stressed out.
Hunter nodded and bent down to pick Mallory up. Her body was shaking in his arms, and she closed her eyes and slowly faded away again, feeling the warmth from Hunter's body.
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They headed over to a parked car nearby, and Blade got into the driver's seat while Hunter stayed in the back with an unconscious Mallory in his arms. From celebrating to saving the life of someone who wanted to die. What a night.
"Call Ana, and have her come by my place to have a look at her," Hunter ordered Blade as he held onto the girl. When arriving at the house, Hunter placed Mallory on his bed; moments later, Ana arrived.
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"Oh my. This is bad, Hunter," Ana said as she examined Mallory. "Poor girl," Ana utters with a sad tone as she begins to care for Mallory's broken body.
"Hunter, I need to do a full examination; please leave the room," Ana said, and Hunter nodded; knowing what she needed to do made him furious. Who can do such a thing to a little girl? She looked so young and frightened. God knows what she had been through, but it must have been hell if she wanted to die.
"How is she?" Blade asked, lighting up a joint, "It's bad, Blade." Hunter said with a clenched jaw. He took the joint from Blade and took a few drags to calm down. He had a bad temper sometimes, and weed helped him calm before flipping.
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Two hours later, Ana came out to the living room, where Hunter and Blade sat on the couch, waiting for her verdict;
"Hello, boys, it's not looking good. I have never met someone in such bad shape as this little girl. Many of the wounds are sickeningly old, and the scars underneath them have been there for years. But the worst part is that she has been assaulted sexually multiple times.
I have taken samples and stitched her up as best as I could. But it's not looking good; she has a lot of broken bones and fractures. She will need a high medication set in and an IV. She's sleeping now after I gave her morphine; she's underweight, too, poor thing... But hopefully, she will recover. I'll be back in an hour with some more equipment."
Ana nodded and left Hunter's house in a hurry.
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"Shit, Hunter," Blade mumbled and stared at the wall. Hunter nodded. Even though he was completely wrecked from the weed, he still felt horrible and compassion for the girl. He would probably think he was meant to find her if he believed in fate. But this was just a coincidence.
Why would he, an everyday low-life and gangster, cross paths with a wounded young girl in a container?