Hell

As the sound got closer, Ali's face was covered with sweat, he was scared and very stressed trying to think of a way out.

The tunnel was very long and the once far away voice got closer and closer.

Suddenly the lights at the end of the tunnel started turning on one by one towards Ali.

With the light Ali could now see the silhouette of a women getting closer but he wasn't able to see her face.

Ali we trying to free himself by shaking his hands and trying to break free but the power of an exhausted

11 year old was no match for the black coloured chains.

He looked downwards for other way to get free, his heart pounded faster and faster as the sound got closer.

Any other child would have wet himself or passed out from the mental torture of the situation

This speaks of the mental fortress the boy had built in his loneliness

Ali tried moving his leg but to no use, the restrains were very tightly bound to him that he could feel the chains scratching his legs and hands.

"What do we have here, it seems i have caught a fighter this time"

Ali froze as he heard the voice, it was majestic but at the same time extremely cold.

Also the person spoke in a very refined manner, like royalty hundreds of years ago.

He looked up and his eyes opened widely as he could believe the sight infront of him, hair as white as snow, pale skin like how they depicted vampires in the movies, and most astonishing were her eyes, they were pure white with a silvery texture in them.

If anyone claimed she was an angel sent from heaven no one would disagree, she was without a doubt the most beautiful women Ali had set his eyes on.

She stood infront of Ali , with the help of the crucifix Ali was on, his eyes were on the same level as the 6 feet women opposite him.

If anyone saw this scene they would think Ali and the women were clear opposites, in contrast to the women's white eyes and hair, Ali' hair was black and short, and his eyes were unnaturally dark, a person would get lost in them if he stared to much.

"Ali Goldstone, your surname doesn't match your Arabic ethnicity it seem your father married an English women and changed his surname to get an English citizenship, 5 feet tall, AB- the same blood type as me, no records of your mother surprisingly, always the top of your class, no special hobbies, spends his time reading books in the library after school until nighttime everyday."

'How does she know this'

'Who are they'

'The government, NO, they wouldn't tie me up like a sheep to the slaughter'

The women got closer to Ali and grabbed his neck tightly, her nails cutting his skin.

'So strong' Ali thought as he started suffocating.

"Who do you work for and where is Aya, you know who i am and you've heard the stories about me boy, you could come out of this with a painless death if you play your cards right." She said coldly as she tightened the hold around Ali's neck.

"I'll talk i'll talk, I can't breath, Please…"

She loosened her grip a little

Life came back to Ali 's eyes as he could feel the air back in his body

"Speak"

"I was just walking down the street and some women pushed me and disappeared i swear , next thing I know the box was in my bag, I don't know what it is or where it came from, I'm not the person your looking pleases i was just on my way to school."

Ali said then looked into the women's eyes who wasn't convinced and tried a different approach.

"YES, school , the school will know I'm not there and they will tell the police to look for me, if u let me go i wont tell anyone ill keep my mouth shut i swear."

The white haired beauty looked at the boy infront of her with surprise, she never expected a kid his age to speak like this in this situation.

'Thank God it worked…' Ali thought as he saw the women contemplating something.

As Ali was thinking he broke through to her and his chances of getting out were higher he felt something is missing from the left of his body, it took a couple seconds for the realisation to hit him when he saw a small finger on the floor with blood on it.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAh

Ali screamed from the top of his lung as his pinky finger was cut off and blood was gushing out of his little hand. He felt his hand was on fire, pain he's never felt in his whole life made him scream more than the day he was born, his eyes were filled with tears then after a minute the adrenaline started helping with the pain and he could think straight again.

In that pain Ali wasn't aware of his surroundings or that the women was behind him took out a huge case and put it on a white table which she moved infront of Ali.

Ali couldn't look behind him because of his predicament and when he saw the women moving the table he thought of the worse.

She was going to torture him and he'd have to go through pain just like when he lost his finger, the adrenaline nummed the pain around his hand but it couldn't stop the feeling of blood coming out of his finger making Ali scream loudly hoping someone would come and save him from his misery.

Ali wasn't like other children, he never really got excited from stories about heroes rather he would be interested by why the villains chose to be villains.

And right now he was wishing that one of the many heroes he heard about would save him and stop the pain.

"Dad…..please save me…." He never thought he would ask his Dad for something but in situations like these whatever is built up inside you would come out.