Chapter 17: The Woman's Truth and the Battle for Freedom
The cold dampness of the cell clung to Alex's skin as he sat against a wall, watching the woman on the other side of the room. There was something in her posture, in the way her eyes wandered over the floor, that made it clear she wasn't fully present. She seemed lost, trapped in her own memories.
Unable to just sit and do nothing, Alex slowly got up and approached her. He knew the situation was complicated, but he couldn't ignore her suffering. As he reached out his hand toward her, his fingers trembled slightly, desperate to do something—anything—to ease her pain.
But before he could touch her, the woman jolted violently. She pulled away from him, her eyes full of fear and rage.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, her voice raw with anguish as she backed up against the wall, visibly trembling.
Alex froze, stunned by her reaction. He didn't know what to do. Any words of comfort he had felt hollow in that moment. The tension in the room was suffocating, and though she seemed angry, she was clearly afraid—trapped in a torment Alex couldn't begin to understand.
He waited a few moments, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, after a long silence, Alex spoke cautiously:
"Why do you hate men so much?" he asked, not even sure if she would want to answer.
The woman stared at him as if weighing his soul, then let out a deep sigh, sadness etched into every line of her face.
"Because men are the cause of my suffering…" she began, her voice quieter now, as if reliving it all. "I thought I'd found a hero, someone who would save me. I fell in love with him. I trusted him. But… it was all a lie. He sold me. Handed me over to a gang of monsters. They were the ones who did this to me." She brought a hand to her head, as if trying to block out the memory, but her glassy eyes betrayed her pain.
Alex watched her, struck by the raw power of her words. Her story echoed deeply within him. He couldn't imagine the scale of what she'd endured, but something inside told him she wasn't just a villain. There was something else—a broken heart, a story that needed to be understood.
"What happened after that?" he asked softly.
"I joined them," the woman said with a bitter laugh. "Not just because I needed revenge. I needed to protect other women from what was done to me. I've lived for that—for making sure no one else suffers the way I did. And now… now the man who destroyed me doesn't even remember my face. He's done the same thing to countless others." Her voice was a storm of fury and grief, and in her eyes burned a frozen rage—one that scorched everything around her.
Alex silently processed her words. He knew she had been a victim, but also realized her thirst for vengeance had led her down a dark path. He wanted to stop her, but he also wanted to help her heal—though he didn't know how.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance. The gang leader had returned, his imposing presence filling the cell with a dark, oppressive energy. The woman tensed immediately, recognizing the man who had played a crucial role in her torment.
"Did you really think you could escape me?" the leader sneered, his voice dripping with cruelty. He stepped closer, savoring each stride. "I've decided to put on a show. A show to break all of you. To show how useless you really are."
The woman, furious, tried to rise, her magic flaring to life. With a scream, she attempted to melt the cell bars, but something stopped her. A look of helplessness spread across her face as she realized her magic wasn't working like before. The leader watched with amusement as her efforts failed.
"Your powers are worthless here, darling. Nothing you do will change a thing," he laughed, watching as the woman collapsed to her knees, crushed by despair.
She stared at the bars, her eyes filled with tears, her body trembling with frustration. For the first time in a long while, she felt utterly powerless.
"I can't take it anymore!" she cried out, completely breaking down. Tears rolled down her cheeks as anger and sorrow warred inside her. The battle she had fought—for herself and for others—seemed to crumble before her eyes.
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That was when Alex stepped forward, taking a deep breath. His gaze was resolute, filled with a confidence he hadn't shown before. He looked at the woman, and with unexpected gentleness, he spoke.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of this," he said firmly, even though he didn't yet know how.
The woman looked at him, confused and surprised.
"How are you going to do that?" she asked, unable to understand how a man like him could possibly help in that moment.
Alex didn't answer right away. With a defiant look, he turned toward one of the mercenaries who had entered with the leader. He stepped forward slowly, exuding quiet confidence.
"You want to have fun, right? Why not start by attacking me?" Alex said, with a smile that couldn't fully hide the challenge in his eyes.
The leader, intrigued by Alex's tone, crossed his arms and watched with amusement as one of his men approached. The mercenary raised his sword and charged at Alex, ready to end him in a single blow.
The clash was immediate. The man struck with brutal force, and to everyone's surprise, Alex took the blow head-on to the chest, leaving a deep wound. Blood poured from him, but Alex didn't show the slightest sign of weakness. Instead, he smiled—eerily calm.
"That's the best you've got?" Alex murmured, still smiling.
The leader watched, puzzled. The wound was real, but something in Alex's eyes told him there was more to this than met the eye.
"I don't have magic or some amazing battle technique," Alex began as he straightened up, staring directly at the leader. "But I do have a power stronger than anything you've ever seen: being the protagonist's best friend."
Alex's grin widened as he readied himself, moving with surprising speed for what was to come.
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