Smol Women

Chapter Ten

The next morning was lovely. The sun was out, and the air was pleasant. I'd say it was, like, around 24° Celsius. Really just all around lovely!

Tank woke up excited. He was so pumped to see the ISIS soldiers up close again! The smell of their sweat and their soiled clothing really appealed to him.

Marianne on the other hand had found it very comfortable on the hard floor of the building they had slept in.

"Wake up, Marianne!" Tank squealed in excitement, jumping on her stomach.

"Five more minutes," Marianne groaned.

Classic! Ah, I love that line every time I hear it!

Eventually Marianne woke up and the two set out on their way to investigate the fortress.

It was large, easily five times the size of their own, but seemed relatively unguarded.

"Lesgo," Tank drawled, marching towards the base.

Marianne grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him back. "Are you stupid? We can't just walk in there!"

Tank pointed to a small hole in the wall to the right of the fortress.

"Huh, alright, that'll do," Marianne conceded. The two ran towards the hole and slipped inside, pleased to see that it led to a small tunnel which they crept to.

ISIS's base smelled gross. Like, atrocious. It was a mix between sulfur, eggs, cheese, and sweat.

Surprisingly (or not), Tank was delighted by the smell, as it smelled exactly like his room back home.

"How long does this tunnel go on for?" Marianne grunted, beginning to sweat in the stale air.

As if answering her, the tunnel began to lighten ahead. The two slowed to peer out of the opening. On the other side, a courtyard was bustling with ISIS soldiers.

Some were doing grotty, squicky things to goats. Others were practicing shooting on live cows. Just all around a blood bath really.

In the centre of the clearing, a man was perched atop a chair similar to those lifeguards sit in. He was pasty white, with a horribly done fade in his black hair, the top of which sat flatly on his head. He had an oddly puffy face and braces. He wore a grey t-shirt over black sweatpants with a... chain?

The man continuously barked out orders in Arabic. Something about his voice was off, however. It sounded like Arabic wasn't his first language, even though he was clearly fluent.

Tank let out a gasp, for the first time seeming scared.

"What?" Marianne asked him.

Pointing a shaky finger towards the figure on the chair, Tank told her, "That's Jason Donnegan."

Marianne stared at Tank with a blank face. "Who?"

"Jason Donnegan?" Tank repeated. "As in, the sexiest man on TikTok?"

"Yeah, I don't know him. But how would that be him? How would he be the leader of ISIS?"

Tank stared back at her gravely. "I don't know, but that's him."

The severity in Tank's voice left Marianne with no choice but to believe him.

"This is really cool," Tank finally stated after a minute of silence. Suddenly he was calm.

The two decided to stay in the tunnel until nighttime, when it would be dark and easier to go undetected. They passed time by peeing in different spots around the tunnel, and by making up stories for the different ISIS soldiers.