Six months later
In a room with white painted walls, a bed was placed in the middle, and on the bed was a woman in her early twenties receiving treatment. Her body looked pale as if she was going to die anytime soon.
Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling while trying to control her breathing from having just woken up from the scariest nightmare. Her blue eyes scanned around the room, trying to identify where she was.
Glaring down at her hands in confusion, she noticed the needle that had been punctured into her blood system. Tracing the IV drip, she saw the bag filled with the medicine hanging on the IV stand. She didn't fail to notice the scars on her arms as well but she didn't know where she got them from.
Ana scanned the room once more. When she didn't see anyone around, she pulled the needle out of her wrist with force which led to blood dripping out of her arm uncontrollably.
She pushed herself from the bed, falling down while ignoring the pain. She didn't know what she was doing but something kept ringing in her ears.
Run.
Feeling all kinds of emotions starting to weigh on her chest, Ana closed her eyes to endure the pain, but she wanted to get out of there.
"He killed my baby," Ana mumbled to herself as tears escaped from her eyes, while she crawled towards the door, her blood staining the ground.
"I will make him pay," she promised.
Suddenly, the door to the hospital room opened and a young man stared at her, his eyes wide, disbelief etched on his face.
"Call the nurse," the man called for backup as she tried picking Ana up from the ground.
"Let me go, they killed my baby," she yelled, struggling to be released, but the man carried her and settled her on the bed.
"Get the injections ready," he ordered as the nurses entered and left the room in a haste, trying to prepare everything.
The doctor held Ana steadily as they injected her body with the anesthesia.
"You don't understand, please let me go," she pleaded nonstop, tears falling from her eyes before her body grew weak and her eyes shuttered close.
—
Few hours later
Ana flickered her eyes open and found herself in the same room. Beside her, she saw a man wearing a white coat, his back facing her.
The man turned towards her later. He smiled at her when he saw she'd already woken up.
"Hi, miss," he greeted as his smile grew more. Removing the stethoscope that hung around his neck, he continued, "I am Mark Thompson, your doctor," he introduced himself.
He attempted checking her pulse, but she moved her hands away.
"You don't have to worry, miss, I'm not a bad person." He said, hoping she would relax but she only seemed to tense up more.
"They killed my baby," said Ana. "I need to leave before they find me and kill me too."
Mark stared at her for a few seconds before he spoke. "I assure you, no one is going to kill you."
Ana didn't feel assured with his words at all so she asked another question. She stared at him, his smile was warm and comforting. She hasn't seen him before, and there was a possibility he wasn't working for her father. Because if he was, she would have seen her father the moment she woke up.
"What happened?" Ana asked.
"I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it was a man that brought you here and asked me to treat you," he replied, reaching to hold her wrist. Hesitantly, Ana gave him her wrist.
Mark checked her pulse, while Ana watched his movements carefully. She had just escaped death and she knew better than to trust anyone anytime soon.
"Who is this man?" She questioned.
**
In a dimly lit space that only had a single string light as a source of brightness, there were four men in the room, one was trapped on a chair with electric wires wrapped around him as blood dripped from his body, staining his clothes.
Beside him is a small steel basin stained with blood with cut fingers in it. In front of him was a man whose aura was just as dark as the room. He wore a plain expression as he stared down at the man whom he'd been torturing. At his back were his two men.
"What I'm asking you is quite easy and all you have to answer is a 'yes' or a 'no,'" said the man, his tone chilly as his jaw tightened from anger as he played with the scalpel in his hand. "Were you part of the people that raped the orphan girls? The question is quite easy but you seem to be enjoying this so much." He sighed.
The man who was being spoken to could only shiver with fear. He had witnessed Xavier murder his colleagues right in front of him and he was sure that if he didn't say what he wanted to hear, he would be six feet under soon.
"You only have 6 fingers left," Xavier reminded as he toyed with the scalpel, getting his fingers ready to cut through some bone. "If you don't start talking now, they will be all gone. And then…" he drawled, flipping the scalpel and catching it before he continued, "Your toes will be next."
But the criminal was too shaken up to speak, which was Xavier's go signal.
Without wasting any more time, Xavier grabbed the thumb of the criminal and set it right at the table where he'd cut his 4 other fingers.
"P-please," the criminal pleaded as he tried to pull away but unfortunately for him, Xavier meant business.
In less than 5 seconds, the thumb of the criminal was no longer attached to his hand anymore. He was completely digitless in one hand.
The criminal screamed in pain, his cries piercing the ears of the two men standing behind Xavier. Unfazed by the yelling, Xavier calmly took a napkin and wiped the scalpel clean, preparing it for another cut.
Noticing a light flash near him, Xavier took his phone he'd silenced because he didn't like getting interrupted when he was doing his favorite thing. When he saw Mark's name flash on his screen, he quickly answered it.
"What is it?" He questioned, his deep voice took on a sharp edge, each word cutting through the air with irritation.