Caught

Continuing my solitary journey through the underground facility, I aimlessly wander through the maze of corridors. The place is a technological wonder, but to me, it's just an elaborate, confusing puzzle.

I come across a room filled with screens displaying a myriad of data – graphs, numbers, and diagrams that seem important. One screen shows weapons specifications, intricate designs, and detailed schematics. I stare at it, trying to make sense of the technical jargon and complex illustrations. "Looks fancy," I mutter, my interest fleeting. I have no idea what any of it means, nor do I particularly care.

Moving on, I encounter another room, this one with fluctuating energy level readings on large monitors. Bright lines dance across the screens, representing some sort of power consumption or output. I squint at the numbers, but they might as well be in an alien language. "Energy stuff, huh? Neat, I guess," I comment dryly, already losing interest.

Further down, I stumble into a chamber filled with images and diagrams of parasites. The detailed biological sketches and notes suggest extensive research. I lean in closer, examining the bizarre forms and annotations. "Looks like someone's been doodling worms," I observe, unimpressed. The scientific significance of these creatures is completely lost on me.

As I continue my aimless exploration, I come across devices and gadgets, each more perplexing than the last. Some beep and flash, while others hum quietly, their purpose a complete mystery. I poke at a few buttons on a particularly intricate console, half-expecting something exciting to happen. When nothing does, I shrug and move on. "Maybe it's a fancy coffee maker?" I wonder aloud.

I'm convinced this is a fancy coffee maker. It's sleek, complex, and completely alien to my understanding of kitchen appliances. Next to it, there's an assortment of what appears to be coffee bags, although they look a bit too exotic for my taste. "I haven't had coffee in a while..." I muse, my interest piqued despite the situation.

Selecting a random bag from the collection, I declare, "Okay, I choose... You!" I point at one that seems innocuous enough. Now comes the tricky part - figuring out how to use this high-tech coffee machine.

I scan the device, trying to make sense of its design. "I think the cream goes in here, but where the hell do they keep the cream?" I wonder aloud. A thorough search of the room leads me to a cabinet that's oddly normal-looking from the outside but reveals itself to be a fridge upon opening. "Wow, they got a lot," I comment, impressed by the assortment of dairy products.

After rummaging through the contents, I finally find what I'm looking for. "There we go," I say, holding up a green cream labeled packet, reminiscent of my favorite coffee place. I place it in what I assume is the compartment of the machine.

Next is the coffee itself. I'm faced with three possible slots where it could go. "Fucking fancy coffee machines," I grumble, deciding to just put the coffee in all of them, covering all bases.

Now, the control panel. It's a series of numbers without any pictures or clear instructions. "Fuck, why doesn't this have pictures?" I complain. Deciding to take a gamble, I press the button labeled '1' and brace myself.

To my dismay, the machine starts beeping red and begins to shake slightly. "Oh fuck, I think I broke it," I panic. The last thing I need is to be held responsible for breaking this probably ridiculously expensive piece of equipment.

In a moment of quick thinking, I dash out of the room and lock it behind me. There, now they won't know until someone breaks in. I sigh, trying to distance myself from the scene of the coffee catastrophe. As I briskly walk away, I can't help but think about how absurd this situation is. "So much for a simple cup of coffee," I mutter, focusing once again on finding a way out of this technological labyrinth.

-

As I continue my seemingly endless trek through the underground facility, the monotony of the corridors is suddenly broken by the sound of footsteps. Did they send a soldier down to get me? I wonder, pausing to listen. The footsteps grow closer, and to my surprise, a teenage boy appears in front of me. His disheveled appearance, with a mop of unruly hair and wide, terrified eyes, immediately catches my attention.

Our eyes meet, and the boy hesitantly asks, "Are you with the military?" His voice is laced with a mixture of hope and fear.

Observing his condition – the ragged clothes, the fear in his eyes – it's apparent to me that he's been through some kind of trauma. "No, I'm not from the military. In fact, I was just about to walk back the other way," I respond, already planning my retreat. I don't have time to get involved in whatever mess this kid is in. It's not my problem.

The boy stumbles and falls, his voice breaking as he pleads, "W-wait please! T-they got the weapons!" He starts sobbing uncontrollably. "I-It's my fault."

Ignoring his distress, I start to walk away. "That's crazy kid, but that seems like a you problem," I say coldly. This is just another complication I don't need.

Desperate, the boy runs up and clings to my feet. "Vorn is strong. If you don't tell the others he will kill everyone. He is already plotting!" His words are frantic, filled with a sense of urgent fear.

I try to shake him off, annoyed by his persistence. "Listen here, kid, I don't care about this Vorn guy. The general will deal with the issue. They already have all the cameras, and there are probably over five people that can defeat that Vorn alone. Now let go!"

Clicking my tongue in frustration, I'm reminded of Dolura's incessant clinginess. "Fuck, when did people start training their grip? Dammit, this is getting more annoying than Dolura's bullshit," I mutter under my breath. The boy's desperate grip on my feet is surprisingly strong.

"Okay, okay. I get it, this Vorn guy is strong. What's the fastest way back up?" I ask, hoping the kid can at least be useful in guiding me out of this place. I'm thoroughly tired of being down here.

The boy, still holding onto me, hesitates before responding. "There's no time for that. I'll take you to a tablet you can talk to them through-," he begins, slowly getting up. His urgency is palpable, but I'm not interested in getting dragged further into whatever mess he's involved in.

Before we can move, the sound of more footsteps echoes through the corridor. The boy's eyes widen in fear. "N-no no, why are you here?" he stammers, his voice trembling.

Emerging from the shadows, a woman with a sinister beauty steps forward. Her eyes gleam maliciously, and her long, dark hair cascades around her shoulders, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. It's immediately clear she's no ordinary survivor.

She fixes her gaze on me, a predatory smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you poor boy, I've been tracking you this whole time," she says to the boy, her tone dripping with mock concern.

Then she turns her attention to me, slowly walking up with a calculating look. "What a handsome man~" she purrs, pushing my hair back to see me clearly. I can sense her confidence, which means she's either powered by an ability or wielding one of those weapons the kid mentioned.

"I don't recall seeing this face among the survivors," she remarks, her smile widening as she sizes me up.

Inwardly, I'm weighing my options. Fighting her now would be a waste of energy, and it's clear she's overconfident. My best bet is to stay alive and avoid conflict until Mia or Jenna arrives – they're bound to come looking for me, especially with Dolura probably pushing them.

"Who might you be?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

Her smile grows as she introduces herself. "I am Ira, darling... I just love those eyes of yours. A beautiful blue with a hint of grey."

I meet her gaze, maintaining my composure. "Is there a reason as to why you're holding me by the waist? I don't think we're close like that."

I glance over at the boy, who's visibly shaking with fear. "So, are you the one that traumatized him?" I ask Ira, my tone flat but probing.

Ira licks her lips, a glint of malice in her eyes. "I wouldn't say I traumatized him. If he just listened to us, he wouldn't have gotten hurt, isn't that right, Eliot?" Her words are laced with a chilling casualness.

Eliot, backing away, protests weakly, "Y-you tortured all my friends in front of me!" His voice is a mix of fear and desperation.

Ira rolls her eyes at Eliot's accusation, then turns her attention back to me, running her hands over my chest. "What's your name, handsome?" she inquires, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

I internally grimace at her touch. "My name is Caelum," I reply, keeping my voice even.

She steps back, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Caelum, huh~ Do you know what I want from you?" Her question is rhetorical, her demeanor suggestive.

I scan her quickly, noting the lack of visible weapons. Does she rely on an ability instead? "I'm assuming you plan to rape me," I say bluntly, trying to gauge her reaction.

Ira steps back and giggles, seemingly amused by my directness. "I wouldn't say rape," she replies, beginning to circle me. "Because of the apocalypse, most people died, and the survivors... well, they are not very handsome." She moves behind me, her hands massaging my shoulders. "I just want someone as beautiful as me. How about it?" she whispers in my ear, her voice seductive.

I sigh, feeling a mix of disgust and annoyance. Ugh, this is making me gag. I detest romance. "Will I die if I decline?" I ask, seeking clarification on my situation.

Her response is accompanied by a smile and a light giggle. "You won't die, but I won't let you leave my side until you agree," she says, her lips brushing against my cheek in a kiss. Great, this is going to be a long day...

"The military is going to search every corner of this place. Shouldn't you be planning your escape?" I question Ira, trying to assess her thought process.

Unfazed, Ira smiles and locks arms with me, leading me into the hallway. "Don't worry about it, darling. Vorn said he'll handle it. We have countless people and weapons," she explains confidently. I realize they're banking on numbers for survival. I doubt the general will let any of these psychos live. I just need to hold out until they come down here. Mentally, I kick myself for not sticking with Mia. How troublesome this has become.

Ira glances back with a stern, demanding tone, a stark contrast to the sweet facade she maintains with me. "Oi! Eliot, get over here! Don't make me kill someone else!" Her command sends shivers down Eliot's spine, and he follows, his gaze fixed on the ground. Her ease in threatening lives confirms my suspicion that she's far from ordinary.

She turns back to me, her tone softening. "I'm sorry you had to hear me say that," she says apologetically.

Leading me through the facility, she guides us through a vent and into a room. Inside, she gestures grandly at the surroundings. "Look around, darling. This is top luxury~ You can do anything you want in here~" The room is indeed filled with high-end products, and I can't help but wonder how she managed to procure all this.

"So, are you planning to lock me in here?" 

Ira's eyes widen in mock surprise, and she smiles sweetly. "Of course not, baby~" She cups my cheek gently, her touch feigning tenderness.

Then, with a sense of ownership, she lays her head on my lap and looks up at me. "You'll be by my side until I know you won't leave me~" Her words are a mix of affection and a thinly veiled threat. She reaches out to cup my cheek again, her confidence unwavering.

Internally, I'm analyzing the situation. She must possess an incredibly powerful ability to display such confidence around a stranger. This situation is far from ideal, but for now, I have to play along and wait for the right moment to extricate myself from her clutches.