500 - Part I - Distorted Shadows and Monsters

Chapter XVIV - Rosalind's Russian Roulette

Everybody was interrupted by the slamming of the industrial door opening. It creaked, screeching. Their little eyes were fixed on the metal, watching as copper rods swung downwards and an industrial vault wheel began to turn. They waited in anticipation, unblinkingly. "Get your beautiful selves out here now!" Grayden yelled, a sadistic smirk on his face.
"I can't tell whether he is happy or sad," Silver whispered into Daniel's ear, so the man wouldn't hear.
"Me neither." A group of Grayden's men and women emerged from outside. Outside the room, at least. Like before, they appeared surprisingly attractive. On all of the mens' belts, there was a laser pistol. Grayden commonly referred to them as silencers. There was always that pressure to keep him happy, when there were weapons as threats involved. He gave them bullets in turn, which they all gladly locked into their gun ammo storage chutes. 

There was a woman. She was beautiful like the rest of them, but her eyes were looking straight through Grayden. "You see this heart of mine? Too bad the children don't see it." Grayden hissed this to her. "Of course I see your heart, Alistair. You're such a handsome man. I love all the good you've done for the world." Her words were almost drunk; she was addicted to him and his love. She spoke lazily, her words slurring. "Rosalind," he spoke, his voice growing ever more enchanting, "You know I love you." He turned away from her and towards his work colleagues or minions. "I want you in there. Just get them under control and we'll go to the hall," he stated calmly, his grey eyes flashing. They were lighter than usual, almost creamy and milky, rather than the pair of thunderclouds he normally embraced with glistening, unmistakable confidence.

The men and women — Grayden's men and women — all stampeded into the room, causing screaming and wailing from the children. Daniel, CJ, Terry, Silver and Brielle all tried to calm the little ones down, buy their attempts failed in vain. James was only facing an adrenaline rush with all the commotion and he seemed to enjoy it. He only encouraged the fear, with such delight. The youngest of the children were cradling next to him. They all piled on him, hugging him, falling on him. James had never looked so disgusted. "Get off me!" he roared.
"Silence!" a voice hollered. They all knew that voice way too well. It was full of malicious. "You really do despise children, don't you," Silver snapped at Waterwood. She faced Terry and smiled wickedly. "You don't want to be meeting my pistol, mister," she tutted, cocky with the ultimate power she possessed.
"You don't want my words to meet your ears, missus," Terry spat.

She was fiddling with her belt. Terry snickered, thinking it was loose or her dress was falling down or something ridiculous. The smile immediately faded from his face. What replaced that was a ghastly look of horror. His features were tense and he was stood bolt upright. Tears pricked at his eyes and threatened to spill. He had them scrunched up shut. "What did I say?" Waterwood asked rhetorically, "You're all crazy here. You're all mad here. Mad like donkeys. Sick as animals." Her pistol was raised, directed right at Terry's chest. "Say goodbye, boy," she stated sinisterly, "Go on, last words, dear boy."
"No," Terry said, bile in his throat and sickness wanting to escape his mouth. There were blood clots in his nose that were shattering, breaking like minute but priceless diamonds.

A bullet was fired.

Brielle threw hard, old pillows and sleeping bags in a desperate and hasty aim to block the bullet. Terry fell over, but sleeping bags completely covered him. Waterwood jumped up and down in a fit of rage. The bullet flew like a missile threw all the material and stopped just before it touched Terry's face. He couldn't breathe well under everything, but at least he was here. He wasn't fully conscious of what was happening: his eyes were closed, yet calmly and not with his eyelids tight. Terry opened them, his heart thundering. He looked straight ahead, which was up and noticed the bullet just centimetres off of his face and chest. "No," he muttered, "No, no, no." Carefully, he pulled it out with his fingers and examined it. Potentially his own death was what he held in his hands. He smiled, thankful for being alive. Terry had never appreciated to feel his heart beat so wildly before. That was his life that Waterwood almost snatched away.

Outside, Grayden was placing his hands on Rosalind's shoulders. She backed away, flinging his arms away carelessly. He shoved her throughout the corridor. She was running backwards, his grip still on her. "Alistair," she said quietly, before her voice rose.
"Sweet Rosalind," Grayden grinned cockily, "You're so vulnerable." Rosalind simply rolled her eyes lazily. It was evident that she wasn't impressed. "Alistair," she snapped firmly, "That will be the greatest mistake you ever made."
"Other than locking the children inside of here."
"Grayden, you're a madman," Rosalind grumbled, stumbling backwards. She landed on the floor. Grayden kicked her with his boots, as he had done previously to Daniel. She groaned. "Oh please, I was going easy on you," Grayden yelled. She flinched. "Another red pill, I think," he whispered into her ear.

They heard noises. Alistair immediately helped Rosalind up. "Be quiet," he instructed through gritted teeth.
"I was, Alistair. It's you that's making so much fuss." Alistair was about to punch Rosalind. He grabbed her neck. She held in her breath. "Oh Rosalind, I'm so sorry that your teeny, tiny brain is too non-existent to process anything."
"I'm sorry the world gave you this brain to hurt everyone," Rosalind shot back. Alistair acted like he was afraid of her. Footsteps sounded. "Sugar, let's play this nicely," Alistair spoke softly to her.
"You're not a nice man."

With that, she slapped him. Her hand was so fast, it was like the whipping of the howling wind. Just as he never saw the hand arrive, Grayden never saw it leave. As he went to rub his sore, red, burning cheeks, Rosalind gave him another harsh blow. "You need to start fighting like a girl, soon," she commented. Grayden turned his back on her and stomped in the opposite direction. "I'm not finished with you. Yet." Alistair faced her again. There were tears in his eyes, fresh and reborn. The ones he used to cry. They were more out of anger and disbelief. He didn't want to even think it was probably from the pain. "My boyfriend," she stated, "Never look back at me. I want you to look at me!"

She screamed. The children inside heard her and rushed to the industrial door, but were thrown back by the men and women. "Alistair, you try and murder me and you're only killing yourself."
"No."
"Yes. You have been a very naughty boy, so I'm going to be a very naughty girl. Say your prayers. Free the children. Amen."