Chapter 9: The Basement II

Seraphina’s POV

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Alfred, the man I thought disliked me, had given up resisting to save me. The scene before me was surreal. How could I have let things get so out of hand? The thugs had forced Alfred to kneel, pressing a gun against his temple. Panic surged through me, and I couldn't help but shout, "Let him go! It was me! I killed that man, not him!"

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The henchmen exchanged glances; one of them seemed to have a picture of Alfred and was trying to get a closer look to confirm his suspicions. The boss took notice of this and quickly snatched the photo from the henchman, studying it intently. His eyes flickered with recognition. "It does look like him," he said, looking from the photo to Alfred. He leaned in closer towards Alfred. "Who are you really, boy? If you tell me, I might make this whole experience a lot less painful."

The boss circled Alfred, his eyes never leaving him. "You know, boy," he said, his voice smooth and dripping with malice, "people like you think you can just walk around like you own the world. Well, news flash. Here, I own you."

Alfred's response was utter silence. He didn't even look up to regard the boss.

The boss tried to hide his frustration. "It doesn't matter to me. All I know is eventually your people will come looking for you, and when they do, let's just say I'm going to charge them a small, 'finders fee,' ain't that right, boys." The henchmen let out a series of cheers and laughs.

Alfred finally spoke, his voice steady and cold. "Do you really think this will end well for you?" His eyes met the boss’s, a silent challenge sparking between them.

The boss’s smirk faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. "I don’t need it to end well for me, just profitable."

Though clueless about Alfred’s true identity, the boss knew from the photo that Alfred was probably someone important and that someone would search for him, willing to pay a handsome amount. A greedy gleam appeared in his eyes. Killing Alfred was no longer the plan. This had turned into a kidnapping.

Desperation clawed at me. I needed to do something to save both of us before it was too late. "Please, don't do this. I'll do anything. Just let him go."

The boss grinned, a lustful gleam in his eyes. He walked over to where I was tied to the chair and pinched my chin, lifting my face. "Anything? Be careful what you wish for, my sweet Seraphina," he asked, his voice dripping with ill intent. "You just might get it."

"Get away from her!" Alfred yelled, straining against his restraints so much I thought he would break free. The henchmen must've noticed this, too, because two of them quickly ran up to him and subdued him.

"Oh?" The boss let go of me and headed for Alfred. "You think you're some hero? Think you're her knight in shining armor?" his voice boomed through the basement. "Well, news flash, son, there are no knights left." With that, he punched Alfred right in the stomach.

Alfred let out a slight moan but regained his composure almost immediately. "You're going to regret that."

The boss let out a thunderous laugh. His henchmen even joined in.

"You're something else, kid. You're tough, I'll give you that." He leaned in close to Alfred. "Do you know what I like the most about tough people?" He said as his gaze drifted to the table laden with all manner of torture devices. "I get to have fun with them for as long as I want."

My heart skipped a beat. This had to be a nightmare.

"I have a business to attend to," the boss said." I'll be back soon; when I return, you two better be ready to answer all my questions, or else. The boss turned away and signaled to his henchmen, and they all marched out of the basement, leaving just Alfred and I bound and unsure of our fates.

As the door slammed shut behind them, I felt the last bit of my courage waver. The ropes dug into my wrists, and I could feel the cold seeping into my bones. I looked across the room at Alfred, who was also tied up, his face partially obscured by the darkness.

"Alfred," I called out softly, my voice trembling. "Are you okay?"

He shifted slightly, testing his restraints. "I'm fine, Seraphina. Are you hurt?"

"No, just... scared," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alfred's tone softened. "Don't worry. We'll find a way out of this."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I'm sorry, Alfred. This is all my fault. If I hadn't—"

"Stop," he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "I'll get us out of this, don't worry."

I looked down at my bound hands, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. "But if they hurt you because of me..."

"They won't," Alfred assured me. "I won't let them."

We fell into a long silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on us. After what seemed like forever, I looked up at him, needing to distract myself from the fear gnawing at my insides. "Why did you come after me, Alfred? I thought I told you to lay low."

But before Alfred could respond, the basement door creaked open, flooding the room with harsh light and the sound of footsteps echoing down the stairs. The boss and his henchmen returned, their faces twisted with cruel amusement.

"Well, well," the boss said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Look at you two, all cozy down here. Having a nice chat?"

The boss sauntered over, stopping just in front of Alfred. He kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling back against the cold hard floor. "You still haven't told me who you really are, boy. But don't worry, we'll find out soon enough."

Alfred grunted in pain but remained silent, his gaze defiant. The boss turned to me, a twisted smile on his lips. "And you, my sweet Seraphina. I hope you're ready to keep that promise of 'anything.' Because I have a feeling this is going to be very entertaining."

One of the henchmen, the burly one with the scar, stepped forward. "Boss, should we start with the girl? Might loosen his tongue."

The boss considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Why not? Let's see how much he cares for her."

Panic surged through me as the scarred henchman approached, a sickening grin on his face. He grabbed my arm roughly, yanking me to my feet. "No! No!" I screamed, struggling against his grip. "Please, leave me alone!"

Alfred's eyes blazed with anger. "Touch her, and you'll regret it," he snarled.

The boss laughed, clearly enjoying the show. "Big words for a man tied up and at our mercy."

The henchman leaned in close, his breath reeking of tobacco and sweat. "Let's see how tough you are now," he whispered.

I shuddered, feeling utterly hopeless. But then, unexpectedly, Alfred spoke in a calm and stern voice. "Ten, nine, eight..." he began, his eyes fixed on the watch worn by one of the thugs.

The boss frowned, confused and suspicious. "What? What are you playing at, boy?" he snarled, kicking Alfred to keep him in line.

"Seven, six, five..." Alfred continued, unfazed.

The boss's irritation grew. He picked Alfred up by the hair. "If you don't shut your mouth, I'm going to pluck out every single one of your teeth."

"Four, three, two..." Alfred continued.

The boss raised his fist to strike Alfred, "You piece of shit!..."

"One."

Immediately, the basement door quivered on its hinges. Then, with a resounding crash, it burst open, splintering the wood and sending shards flying. The echo of the explosion hadn't even faded when a group of fully armed warriors stormed in, their movements synchronized and deadly efficient.

The warriors, clad in dark tactical gear, fanned out with military precision. Each step was purposeful, and each gesture was exact. They swept into the room like a wave of shadow, their presence an immediate and overwhelming force. The first warrior through the door was a towering figure, his eyes sharp and calculating. He moved with the grace of a predator, his weapon trained on the henchmen who scrambled to react.

One of the thugs lunged forward, brandishing a knife. In an instant, the warrior disarmed him with a swift, practiced motion, the knife clattering to the ground as the thug was brought to his knees.

Another henchman attempted to flee, but a warrior intercepted him, delivering a precise blow that sent him sprawling.

The room was a blur of motion. A warrior to my right subdued a thug with a well-placed kick, sending him crashing into the wall. Another warrior engaged two henchmen at once, deflecting their wild swings with ease before dispatching them with brutal efficiency. The henchmen, caught off guard and outmatched, fell one by one, their resistance crumbling under the relentless assault.

The boss, who had been leering at me moments before, now found himself face-to-face with a warrior who exuded authority and control. The boss tried to draw his gun, but the warrior was faster, knocking the weapon from his hand and forcing him to the ground. The boss's eyes darted around in panic as he realized the hopelessness of his situation.

Meanwhile, Alfred remained still, as if he had somehow anticipated this.

The warriors continued their methodical sweep of the room, neutralizing every thug. One by one, the henchmen were forced to their knees, their faces a mix of fear and confusion. The warriors' presence was a stark contrast to the thugs' desperation, their calm professionalism underscoring the hopelessness of their situation.

Finally, the last of the henchmen was neutralized. Having secured the room, the warriors turned their attention to Alfred and me.

One of the warriors untied the ropes binding me. I tried to explain, assuming these warriors were the police. "Please, listen to me! It’s not what it looks like—"

One of them, a young man with sharp features and a suit that suggested authority, stepped forward and untied Alfred. He handed him a pristine suit, which Alfred accepted with a nod of gratitude.

With fluid grace, Alfred shed his tattered shirt and donned the new attire. The transformation was astounding. He went from a battered victim to a figure of undeniable authority.

The warriors moved a chair for Alfred, and he sat down, exuding a calm confidence that filled the room. He fixed his gaze on the boss, who was now kneeling, looking utterly defeated.

"Allow me to introduce myself," Alfred began, his voice steady and clear. "My name is Alfred, Alfred Vanderwood."

“I’m the new Alpha King.”