"What kind of questions?" I ask warily. Thieves can cheat you and mess with your mind just as easily as they can walk. When it comes to wits, you can count on a thief, especially a world-famous one, to win the battle.
"First, back away from the door. We can't have you running away halfway through my interrogation, now can we?" Alix says, gesturing for me to move forward.
My eyes are glued to him, watching every sudden movement and tension of muscles. I hesitantly obey, moving cautiously away from the door.
"Good girl. First question. What is your name?" He asks, and he actually looks genuinely interested.
"Jess Hollens." I say tensely.
"Age?" He asks.
"Seventeen."
"Single or no?"
"Why does that matter?"
Alix smiles a little. "Just answer the question."
"As of recently, I'm single. And no, I don't want to elaborate." I snap, rolling my eyes. What a ridiculous question.
"Hmm...interesting." He says, tapping his chin as if contemplating a very difficult decision. I catch a hint of a British accent in his voice. It's intriguing, because at first glance, he looks all-American. If you're not paying attention, you wouldn't even have been able to tell. I cross my arms, or I try, but the pain in my arm reminds me that I'm handicapped at the moment.
"How long have I been unconscious?" I ask, curious.
"Hey. I ask the questions, not you." He says, though he doesn't seem disturbed about the fact that I spoke out of line. I relax a little.
"Fine." I say, and my eyes travel over the items in the room. It does appear to be a glasswork store; something my mom might enjoy walking into. She was always looking for new and brilliant things to take up an empty spot on our shelves. I just talked about her in past tense. No. Stop it, Jess. Mom can't be dead.
"Next question." Alix says, shaking me out of my daydream. Or should I say nightmare? "What do you know about this?" He holds up something in his hand, and it takes all of my willpower not to freak out.
It's the locket.
"Where did you get that?" I ask angrily, my hands curling into fists at my sides. He has no right to have that.
Alix smirks and spins the locket around his wrist. He's quiet for a long moment and my body goes stiff. I flinch with every clang of the rusted gold clanking against another piece. "Come here, Jess." He says after a long while.
I don't. I step back. He raises an eyebrow.
"You know, I am very skilled at throwing knives. If you want to test that, go ahead and try to escape. Don't come crying to me when you find that a knife is embedded in your brain. Oh, wait, you won't be able to cry. You'll be dead." He says firmly, running his finger along the sharp edge of his knife.
His words cut into me deeper than that knife straight through my skull ever would. This boy has my grandfather's locket, and I don't know why. I've been kidnapped against my will and I don't know where I am. There isn't much I do know. For the first time in forever, I'm afraid. My mom and dad surely wouldn't approve of me standing back in a fight, even if it's one I can't win. But how can I possibly get myself out of this one?
"I will ask you one more time. Come here." He repeats, calmly.
I slowly step forward, but I refuse to go any closer than two feet away from him. I notice that he has a strange marking on his neck, but my vision can't see any closer than that. I'd say it's a birthmark, but based on the things Alix has done in his lifetime, you never know.
YOU ARE READING
Subject #013 | ✓
Teen Fiction"I'm only going to ask you one more time." I say firmly. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" He frowns, and I tense, waiting for a blow, but none comes. I really need to shut my big mouth. "Apparently, I'm not nearly as famous as I thou...
