Determination's Hope

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It wasn't her fault she was here. Well, some part of it was. She did have a choice: take the mission or be flogged ten times then be left alone to do as she wished till the next offer. And it was rare to turn down an order more than once. But that was all in the past. She was here now and couldn't do anything about it.

"What was your mission?" Why did they ask her that? They already knew why. It was why she was tied to this chair. She had killed Thalrai Darati, one of the most powerful Mafia bosses of New Jersey. Her mission had been to assassinate the threat - him - to her mob. Her boss was brutal. If you didn't do as you were told or didn't do it right, you were punished severely. But that was one of the best things. It built trust and loyalty into the mob. And that lead to its effectiveness. So when another gang starts to rival hers, it was up to her to eliminate them. She had done assassinations to much to count and had done a marvellous job. The missions where done as told and there was no evidence. And even if someone did see her, they still wouldn't know her mob was involved.

She just glared at the interrogator. Following Thalrai's death, he had stepped up and taken over the mob. With him leading there was less confusion and that made it harder to escape. Leading her to being here, having the living day lights terrorised out of her. Her head whipped to the side. The interrogator rubbed his fist to release the dull throb from punching her.

"Never mind. We'll just move on." He hit her again, bringing a metallic taste to her mouth. "What Mafia do you work for?"

She lent forward as if to tell him, her head bent down facing the floor. She slowly raised it to look him in the eye, and then spat blood on his face. She was hit again by someone she couldn't see as he wiped the red liquid off his face.

"Very well then. We'll just have to beat it out of her." She was hoisted out of the chair as the ropes were cut. Her hands were rebound and lifted above her head to be tied to a chain hanging from the roof. Once she was again secure and not able to fight back nor escape, they began beating her - fists, feet, knives, torturing devices and all. But no matter what they do, she didn't say anything. Didn't even scream to express her pain.

They gave up after what seemed like an eternity later. She slumped against her bindings, her head hanging low, senses diluted.

"She's not going to crack." She heard vaguely. There where a few more words said, mumbled to her ears, before she was able to tune back in.

"We don't have any more time. Get rid of her while I sort out the mob."

Very faint footsteps faded to nothing. She tried to lift her head, but gave up and let it sag again. She tried to see everything from her current position but her sight was blurry and she couldn't see anything. In desperation, she forced herself to strain her weak hearing enough to hear the click of a revolver. So this was what would become of her. She could finally retire and get out of this insightful business. She closed her eyes and relaxed. As the trigger was pulled, her last thought was that hopefully, her brother and sister's live remained intact.


This is dedicated to 8thgradewriter. It was thanks to her and her challenge that i wrote this. I might continue this, but not right now.

Check out 8thgradewriter's book Writing Contests and have a go! You never know, you might do well!

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