THE DRAGONS LAIR

She ran as fast as her feet could carry. On the docks. Her red, ornately embellished wedding dress, slowing her down. Her red dupatta (stole paired on an Indian dress) sweeping the ground, wet and heavy with the slick and rust. With a handgun, her service Glock 17, in her sweaty hands, she was quite a sight to look at.

She looked around for a sign. Her trained eyes scanned every nook and corner. She saw a scrap metal plate lying broken and bent by the side. With swift strides she walked up to it and used it to cut the lower half of her dress unevenly. The hem now hung just above her knees. She was relieved with the freedom of movement it now gave her. Thank God, she had chosen Bellies. At least her feet weren’t protesting. Ditching her stole, she walked towards the shadows.

She knew that they had to be here. This was where everything had led her. She was sure her calculations were correct. She couldn’t go wrong. Not now, when lives were at stake. Especially of people who she loved. She knew the kidnappers. They were dangerous assholes.

She thought about all the conflicts that she had faced with the love of her life. Many a times breaking up and coming together again, until she couldn’t take the agony of separation anymore. Finally when they were about to get married, he got kidnapped. Along with their friends! This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t lose them. Her entire life flashed in front of her eyes.

The shadows were getting darker. The sun was setting out over the ocean and she had to be quick.

As she went around the corner of a shipping container, a sudden forceful punch landed on her belly knocking the wind out of her. She gasped for breath. Before she could take any action, within the next instant, another blow landed on her jaw. She slumped with the impact. She was losing consciousness as the gun was being pulled out of her hands.

Someone snorted. “We hit a jackpot. The bitch is here in a sexy avatar. Let’s show her where she belongs.”

Men guffawed.