Hunted

She didn't accept his thanks. She just stepped back into her room and shut the window. She opened a drawer, and pulled out two bright red rolls. She wrapped them quickly around her wrists, and tightening them expertly. She had no way to deal with emotion, with pain, other than through violence.

She walked over to the punching bag, and paused for a moment, to tie her hair up into a ponytail. And then she began attacking the punching bag. It wasn't unorganized, and was actually rather precise, but the strength thrown into each punch was obvious. She danced out of the way of the swinging bag, punching it every now and again from different angles.

After several minutes, each punch sent waves of pain up her arm. Every time a punch connected, she gasped, but she didn't stop. Her movements were getting sloppier as the pain started invading her mind. She forced herself to keep on going, her hands beginning to turn red, almost ready to break the skin. It was her only escape. Each punch brought out fresh tears, but she still didn't stop.

Frankie halted her assault of the punching bag when he stepped in the way. He studied her hands, and scolded her, and she struggled for control over her emotions. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to keep from crying again. "You really are clueless." she said dully, shaking her head slightly. She opened her eyes to look directly at him again. "I have lost my entire family. I am a prisoner in my own dorm, and I'm being hunted. All thanks to the stupid orders you followed." She jerked her hands out of his grasp, backing away from him slightly, mostly to hide how close to tears she was.

She clenched her fists at her side, winceing involuntarily at the pain it brought. "Your superiors aren't finished with me. They're going to want information, and it won't matter that I'm a minor, and it won't matter that I'm a girl. They will do whatever they have to to get that stupid information." she grasped the wraps, taking them gingerly off of her hands.

She tried to keep herself under control just a little longer. "Not to mention, that as of now, the man who got me into this situation is now the only person that I can trust." she breathed out slowly, saying her last few words with cool detachment, "A few broken digits would have been a welcome diversion from what has happened to me in less than 24 hours." she stepped back a little further, and sat on her bed heavily, rubbing her already bruising hands gingerly.

Frankie raised her hands, palms facing forward in a sort of physical way to ward off his words. "OK, OK, Ok. Fine. Whatever you say. You talk too much. I need to have a shower. I'll be completely peachy in the morning, now will you please leave me alone?" she stood and walked past him to her bathroom.

She left the door open as she ran the water and got everything prepared. Then she leaned against the door frame, having stripped down to a pair of short girl boxers and her flimsy white under-tanktop. "So do I have your permission to be alone in here, or shall I shower in this?" she motioned at her form, her face completely emotionless still.

Frankie showered and went to bed with no further instances, but unknown to both her and Armand, a band of Assassins were observing the scene, planning their attack for the morning.

When morning came, the attack came swiftly. The first move was three of the assassins taking out Armand. They attacked him, and sent him through the window, onto the floor, beating him down, and then restraining him. By that time, Frankie was awake, and had pulled her gun, shooting one of the assassins.

The assassin wasn't killed, and instead shot at her, hitting her in the shoulder. Two more assassins broke through the door, and went over to the bleeding Frankie. "Your pop said we were supposed to take you alive to him if you didn't fight." the tallest said to her.

She returned his sharp gaze just as strongly, though her eyes were glazed over by the pain. Her entire left shoulder was covered in blood. "Well..." she grunted out trying to control the gasps of pain, "Looks like I already... fought." she said cockily, trying to keep control of her body. It hurt. A lot.

Fishi came trotting up the stairs towards Frankie's room. She knew something was wrong when she saw shards of wood lying around Frankie's door. She ran the rest of the way and froze in the door, to Frankie lying on the bed bleeding. She whimpered. "Frankie?" she said quietly.

Still, all the noise was enough to startle the assassins. Frankie yelled without looking, "DUCK Fishi!" as the guns went off.

The 5-year-old flattened herself on the ground, with her hands covering her head. The gunfire splattered the wood behind her, and she whimpered, not moving.

The assassins froze. They just shot at an innocent child. One kept an eye on the child, the other turned back to Frankie.

The spot of blood on her shoulder was growing, and making her shirt glisten. Her breath hitched for a moment, and Fishi whimpered again, starting to move. "Stay there Fishi." Frankie said quietly, and the little girl complied obediantly, shaking and whimpering.

The head assassin hit Armand to the floor with a hard hit. Fishi winced at the sound. The birthmark on her hand started to glow. It glowed harder. She started shaking violently with the energy it was drawing from her.

The noise drew the assassin's attention, and in their fear, they raised their guns again. Just then, Fishi's hand gave off a blinding flash, and when the light was gone, in it's stead was a unicorn, and two small dragons. Fishi went unconcious and still as the Unicorn took charge of the situation, completely incapacitating two of the assassins with one sweep.