Fighting For The Gun

As she crouched beneath the desk, she stifled her breath, acutely aware of the rhythmic thumping of her heart, reminiscent of a hummingbird's wings fluttering in the crisp morning air. Every muscle in her body was coiled tightly, akin to rubber bands stretched to their breaking point. Her limbs remained utterly still, devoid of any sound or movement, resulting in a deep ache from the prolonged tension.

How long is this going to take?

Visibility was limited; the only indication of activity was the door creaking open with a sound that resonated like a thunderclap. Although the door closed with a gentle thud, the enveloping darkness only fueled her wild imagination. She fervently hoped that Kitty would refrain from any foolish or impulsive actions.

The experience of hiding beneath the desk was far from pleasant, as the constriction of her knees in a fixed position induced a sense of suffocation. Time felt distorted; she could not discern whether mere seconds or several minutes had passed. The room was shrouded in darkness, prompting her to close her eyes and attune herself to the unsettling silence.

Footsteps echoed, growing increasingly louder until they jolted her from her thoughts. Suddenly, the shrill ring of a phone pierced the stillness. 

Ring - Ring - RIng

It became evident that the man had retrieved the device from his pocket. His deep voice broke the silence, uttering, "Director."

A furrow of confusion crossed her brow. Who was the Director? To whom was he speaking? The realization struck her with the force of a blow: it was Mr. Lewis, Ashley's father. She inhaled sharply, the discomfort of her rigid posture becoming unbearable, as every muscle yearned to move and stretch. Yet, she understood that her chances of escaping undetected hinged on remaining completely motionless.

"Yes. I'm keeping an eye on the siren. He's in my grasp."

With that, silence enveloped the room once more, and Dawn recognized that Mr. Lewis was intently listening to the voice on the other end of the line.

 "Indeed, I am monitoring her closely. She is a figure we can manipulate. All that remains is to earn her trust, and she will be entirely ours."

Dawn found herself engulfed in confusion, sensing that the conversation revolved around her, yet the reason eluded her grasp. This sense of powerlessness infuriated her, as if she were merely a pawn in a grand game of chess. Her fist clenched tightly, nails biting into her palm, though she remained oblivious to the faint sting.

Suddenly, the man's voice shifted to an unfamiliar tongue, a language that danced just beyond her understanding. Was it Russian, French, or perhaps Chinese? The uncertainty gnawed at her.

A flurry of questions surged within her, as if a crucial piece of a puzzle lay just out of reach in the recesses of her mind. The sound of footsteps reverberated through the dimly lit room, each thud resonating through her hands, followed by a sudden flash of light illuminating the dim room.

Desperately, she attempted to retreat further beneath the desk, though space was limited. Beads of sweat trickled down her lashes, and she fought the urge to wipe her eyes, choosing instead to remain motionless.

A loud crash echoed, jolting Dawn from her concealed position. Her face contorted in dismay, a torrent of curses flooding her thoughts. What on earth was that? Had Kitty dropped something? That fool! They were discovered.

Then, a commanding voice boomed across the room, "Who's there?"

Frustration welled within her as she closed her eyes, realizing she had no choice, but to emerge and clarify the situation. The sound of approaching footsteps preceded the raucous opening of a closet door.

An embarrassed voice protested, "Hey, let go of my arm! You don't need to grip it so tightly!"

Through clenched teeth, a voice inquired, "Kitty, what are you doing here?"

"Um? Hahaha. It's quite a long story," came the reply.

Dawn understood that evasion was no longer an option, despite the grumbling discontent swirling in her mind. She crawled out from her hiding place, feeling the unforgiving floor creak beneath her knees, acutely aware that she had drawn their attention with her lack of subtlety.

Mr. Lewis was taken aback. "Dawn, what brings you here?"

Dawn offered a sheepishly smile, but her gaze quickly shifted to the two of them, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

The mechanical sounds emanating from the phone startled them, though the words remained elusive; a few phrases managed to penetrate the air.

Dawn's eyes fixated on the device, her instincts telling her that Mr. Lewis was hiding something. His mention of holding Iravan suggested a premeditated plan, and an unsettling feeling washed over her.

"Who were you speaking to on the phone?" she inquired, her voice steady despite the tension.

Mr. Lewis's demeanor shifted dramatically; his expression morphed from anger to a guarded wariness, his posture becoming defensive. "That's none of your concern." he retorted.

Kitty struggled to free herself from his grip, her face contorting slightly from the pressure.

Dawn sensed an ominous undercurrent in the air. The entire scenario felt deeply unsettling; his evasiveness and refusal to release Kitty raised alarm bells in her mind.

"Let go of me! You're hurting my arm!" Kitty exclaimed, her voice strained.

In an instant, horror washed over Dawn as she witnessed Mr. Lewis reach into his pocket. He brandished a small, black handgun, brandishing it before them with alarming ease.

He yanked Kitty forward, causing her to stumble before regaining her footing, standing defensively before him, pointing the gun toward her head. 

Dawn's heart raced, a tight knot of dread forming in her stomach. She was acutely aware of Kitty's powers as a witch, yet she knew that even the strongest could be vulnerable to harm.

Panic flickered in Kitty's eyes, a crack in her usual composure.

"What on earth do you want?" Dawn demanded, her voice laced with urgency.

The atmosphere around Mr. Lewis shifted dramatically; his gaze was unrecognizable, filled with a manic intensity. A harsh, derisive laugh escaped his lips. "It doesn't matter. You're here now. I can make use of this. Sit down."

The atmosphere in the room crackled with an electric tension, a palpable sense of dread hanging in the air like a prelude to chaos. Dawn clenched her jaw, her insides churning with anxiety as she cautiously lowered herself back into the chair.

Kitty's breath quickened, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm, her wide eyes betraying her fear.

Mr. Lewis leaned forward, a sinister grin twisting his lips. "You've just invited your own demise," he taunted.

Dawn's breath hitched as she witnessed Kitty suddenly jerk her head back, catching Mr. Lewis off guard, causing him to stagger backward in surprise.

Bang-bang-bang.

The gun clattered to the floor, and Kitty fought through the fog clouding her mind, her head spinning. Dawn sprang up, steadying her friend against the desk, their eyes locking in a moment of shared terror.

In that instant, Dawn locked eyes with Mr. Lewis's frenzied gaze, both thoughts in sync. Get that gun!

At the same time, they lunged for the weapon, hearts pounding in a frantic race against time.