Cool breeze, the first touches of autumn, cold against my face, creating ripples through my tiered black sleeves, a tight grip on my forearm pulling me along in steady steps. I could still hear the sirens as they echoed through the innards of my ears until the reverberation reached my brain, rendering me unable to think clearly. My world is hazy, occasionally tinted with ostentatious blue and red neons. I've seen this scene before, many times actually, each time more trying than the previous.

  But no—this time, something is different? Is something different?

  If so then what?...Oh...that's right, I've never had anything pulling me out of it before–something leading me on. They say human psychology is perplexing, I figure they were right, for an unyielding external force keeping me going makes me want to stop even more, stop to catch my breath, even if it means breathing my last. It makes me sick, I want to quit. I want to keep sinking, sinking into the endless dark abyss. That way, the light cannot reach my skin–cannot illuminate the shame– or bring exposure to the wretched existence which is me.

  .........

  Casa Viscontini

  The familiar haunting Manor painted a gothic picture against the dark of the cloudless night. Moonlight shone upon the ivy coiling like serpents on the iron gates. Casa Viscontini was some distance from the town's heart with no other dwellings for half a mile radius. If not for the lanterns at the gates, the mansion would almost be indiscernable.

  Vittore let go of me as we walked through the gates, then came the wooden stairway. I treaded them in a daze, all the while silence prevailed between us . Even the butler was nowhere in sight. Vittore carried a key with him, thus we could enter. We sped down the medieval hallway, it's paintings barely visible through scanty moonlight seeping in through shut glass-paned windows.

  This time though we did not enter the dining hall though, we passed it for a room in the far Eastern wing of the house. Although clearly not a dining, its size was no less than one. It barely had any furniture, save a couple of chairs. This room too had a window, but it had no panes or shutters, just a thin, translucent white curtain that danced in the autumn breeze. There appeared to be no lights in the room, and if there were, Vittore didnot bother with them.

  'You alright?' He asked, breaking my trans.

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  I was suddenly painfully aware of my predicament. The sirens and the run had distracted me to the point where I let him drag me wherever he wanted. This was bad, there are only so many escapes one can hope to pull off in one night.

  'Sit down' he said pulling one of the chairs towards me.

  'I'm fine'

  'I'm not going to try to kill you' he smiled, easing his expression. 'we are on the same side afterall'.

  '.....'

  *sigh*

  'Sit down or remain standing as you please'

  I folded my arms, and straightened my posture to reinforce my point. There was no particular reason behind my obstinance, I just wanted to cross him that's all.

  With resigned impatience, 'Wait here' he said, already making his way out before I could react. Within the quarter of a second, he was gone, as if he were never there.

  Perfect, this is just perfect, I had somehow landed in a suspicious man's house, whose motives are currently unclear, and my disposition is completely at the mercy of the fact that he'll stay true to his notion of not wanting to kill me. Which, I have my reasons to not believe in.

  His absence gave me time to examine the room's layout in case I have to skeddadle. Pacing around the room, I examined the walls and their shafts, firm medieval pillars ran from the floor to the ceiling, patterns etched on their white surface, which, Pardon me, I could not make heads or tails of due to the poor lighting.

  After a thorough five minute search, having exhausted myself, I realised the only feasible escape could be made through the lone window. It looked upon an open scrub which formed a carpet thick enough to limit the damage to a few broken bones at best. Either that or dashing out of the room and navigating the house, which is practically impossible with my sense of direction. As the exhaustion sunk in I found my legs dragging themselves towards the forlorn chair. My eyes felt heavy, there was no sign on Vittore.

  .........

  Minutes or maybe even hours passed before I opened my eyes to someone's calling.

  'You're awake?' Came a voice from behind me.

  'What took you so long' I asked wiping my eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness.

  He didnot answer, I made an effort to rise from my seat when I felt a firm palm on my right shoulder, his voice came from above 'sit'. It was devoid of any emotion in particular, but something in it made the listener inadvertently want to obey.

  I heard the sloshing of some liquid as I realised he had something in his hand, I tried to raise my head and to get a better look as a light, tingling pain erupted in my neck, where I had been electrocuted.

  Cotton dipped in cold liquid brushed against my skin, the pain was minimal but it scared the away sleepy daze. 'What do you think you're doing' I asked, squeezing my eyes at the uncomfortably itchy sensation.

  'Medicine' he answered. 'As for your questions...' he continued in a low voice.'its true, I haven't been completely honest. You see I had placed a tracker on your phone, its a protocol....all the other scouts have it too, most are aware and willing' he took a deep breath before continuing. 'Someday, when the time is right, you'll meet them, i hope you can work together then'

  Somehow his tone didnot acquiesce with one suitable for professional dealings.

  'I initially meant to call you but you weren't answering, so I went to your place to check'

  'Fine, alright, but how do you explain finding the basement and coming down ' someone who has been a victim for so long should have no doubts about the caliber of those working for the Axis. 'Did you honestly think you could win against one of their assasins, or–was your motive something '

  'You really dont trust me, do you' he let out a soft chuckle 'its true, i wasn't thinking. Its true it could have ended badly, but, you know, I..I was worried...about you'