Outskirts of Seattle, EARTH

The floor of the warehouse was littered with rusted metal and broken glass. Concrete showed through broken tile, thrown into sharp relief by the sunlight glaring in through the broken windows and holes in the rusted roof. The graffiti lining the walls was lit up in some places, while the shadows- made darker by the random patches of light- hid the rest. 

Many of the overhead lights had crashed to the ground, circled by broken tiles that marked the impact. Some of the lights that were still hanging were doing so by a thread, and still more lights looked as though they had been smashed by a thrown stone. And the few, rare lights that were still operational were now on, shining on a rather alarming scene.

Six armed men, most wearing jeans and leather jackets, stood in a semi-circle surrounding a shivering teenage girl. She was curled in on herself, on the ground, her back against a steel pillar, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Her long red hair was messy, showing where the men around her had used it as a handhold to grab her, and dried blood crusted around a cut on her temple. Tears trickled down her face as she looked up at her captors, fear darkening her blue eyes.

One of the men cleared his throat, calling the attention of the others. 

“Alright, the boss will be here soon.” His voice was gravelly, as though he chain smoked a pack of cigarettes everyday. “You two,” he motioned to two men on either side of him, “stay here and watch her. The rest of us are going to patrol the area, just in case one of the gangs in the area decides to get in on our paycheck.”

“We sure we have the right girl? One of the men said, his voice almost comically high pitched, “Didn’t they say she was going to be trouble?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Another man grunted. “She looks like the one in the picture, isn’t our fault if we grabbed the wrong one. And if they refuse to pay us, well…” He drew his gun out of the waistband of his jeans with a sneer, a round of snickers going around the group.

“Alright you lot, let’s get to work. Get moving.” The leader said, his yellow, craggy teeth bared in a grin. The two men moved to flank the girl, while the rest followed the leader out of the warehouse door. The last one closed the door behind them, the rusted hinges causing an incredible racket.

The second the door closed, the two men left inside the warehouse immediately shuffled away from the girl and sat down on a clean, unbroken patch of floor. They both lit a cigarette, one of them pulling a pack of cards out of their pocket. The girl watched as they started a card game, blinking tears out of her eyes. She rested her head on her knees, shaking subtly, but made no noise.

The warehouse descended into silence, broken only by the fwip of cards moving. 

The two guards were absorbed in their game,so absorbed that they didn’t notice the electric blue eyes of the girl, now dry, observe them with cold detachment. They didn’t see one of her hands slip down from around her knees, down to her boot. And they definitely didn’t see the throwing knife that she soundlessly slid out of the sheath in her boot, not until said knife was sticking out of one of their throats.

The other man gaped, his shock giving the girl, who had started moving at the same time as her knife, time to rush up behind him and put a combat knife to his throat.

“You try to make a sound, and you won’t have a painless death like your friend.” She whispered in his ear. Her voice was lilting and musical, making her cold and detached tone far more terrifying.

The man resisted the urge to gulp, resisted the urge to breathe, hyper aware of the knife rested delicately on his throat. Noticing this, the girl let out a laugh. It was warm, bright, genuinely amused, and the scariest thing the man had ever heard in his life.

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“If you swear on your life,” -another giggle as the knife on his throat moved slightly, as though to remind him it was there- “that you’ll be quiet, tap the ground with your right hand.”

The man smacked his entire hand on the ground hard enough for the skin to turn red and start stinging. The knife disappeared and the girl moved so that she was standing in front of him, looking him in the eyes. She was smiling warmly, would even have looked friendly if not for the ice behind her blue eyes.

“So,” She said conversationally, “Who hired you guys to kidnap me anyways? A reason why would also be nice to have.”

The man froze, his mind churning. If he told her he didn’t know, she might kill him out of rage. But if he gave her a random name, and she found out he lied, she would definitely kill him. 

‘But, that would depend on her getting out of here.’ A voice in his head whispered. ‘She only killed the other guy cuz she got lucky. Look at her, she’s a high schooler.’

Decision made, the man went to open his mouth… only to see the girl holding a combat knife, flipping and playing with it with an ease that showed her familiarity with the weapon. He immediately changed his mind.

“I don’t know who it was! Only that boss guy does! He got the call, then came up to me and my friend and asked if we wanted in. Myfriend, or, well, my ex-friend said yes and dragged me in too! This is my first time doing something like this, I swear. It was a lot of cash! My cat needs to go to the vet, and I have student loans! Please don’t kill me, I still haven’t beat my brother’s record on Guitar Hero!” He begged. His voice was slightly hysterical, but he kept his volume as low as he could.

The girl tilted her head to the side, her amusement obvious, showing even in her eyes to an extent. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Mike.” He said, his tone cautious. He didn’t know where this was going, and he didn’t like it.

The girl nodded decisively. “Mike. My name is Aurelie.”

“Okaaaay.” Mike drew the word out, confused. Why was she giving him her name?

And then the world went black.

~~~~~~

Aurelie slid her combat knife back into its sheath, perfunctorily checking that Mike’s chest was still moving and that he was merely unconscious. She checked her list again. Pros of keeping him alive was that she had a contact in the Seattle area. Cons of keeping him alive was that there was someone who could identify her. Though he seemed to be too scared of her to try to backstab her, and she would, of course, keep him on a short leash before trusting a thing he said. And she definitely needed a contact in the area. It would have made the recent mission much easier, and allowed her to anticipate this kidnapping bullshit.

She stepped toward the dead man, pulling her knife out of his throat, and avoiding the small splash of blood this created, as well as the growing puddle of blood. She gave the blade a cursory wipe on the dead man’s shirt, deciding she’d sit down and clean it better when she had time. She also took the opportunity to divest the dead man of his gun, then paused and went back to do the same with Mike.

Spotting her messenger bag in the corner, she walked over to it and put the guns inside after ensuring the safety was on, and took inventory. Her phone, headphones, and solar powered charger were there. Some sticky notes, a random pencil, two daggers, six additional throwing knives, and her other combat knife, and… ooh, Cheetos! She’d forgotten she had those. Promising herself she would eat them later, she stood up and slung the bag across her shoulder, making sure it was secure.

She had already taken stock of the exits. The door was immediately out. The rusted hinges would give her escape away to the captors that patrolled outside. And if she tried to jump through a window, there was a high chance that she would run into one of the men on patrol. Her best bet was to go somewhere humans tended not to look. Up.

The girl looked up at the higher windows. They were near the roof, making it easy for her to get onto said roof after she went through them. 

But before she did that… she quickly reached into her bag taking out the sticky note pad and pencil. She quickly drew a butterfly with a snowflake pattern on its wings, folded the note, and slipped it into the pocket of Mike’s jacket. Proof that he was hers now.

Then she broke out in a run towards the wall, jumping as high up as she could before grabbing one of the industrial shelves still there. They were old, but they were still more than sturdy enough to hold her weight. She climbed them like a ladder, until she reached the top shelf, which conveniently put her right in front of the windows she wanted. She carefully removed the broken glass from one pane so that she wouldn’t cut herself, then climbed out of the window, grabbed the edge of the roof, and effortlessly hauled herself up.

She turned to take in the birds eye view of the warehouse area around her and smirked.