FBI AGENT/C1 Chapter One
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FBI AGENT/C1 Chapter One
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C1 Chapter One

Two years ago.

I feel the cold everywhere. I feel it seeping it's way inside my bottom, spreading to my legs, my arms, my chest. I feel everything turn so icy, it becomes numb. My ripped denim jacket isn't enough to keep me covered and I shiver as a thick gust of cold air whirls past me.

I bury my face inside the once cream blanket that has now turned into a rotten brown colour, the fabric matted and flat. The stench coming from it is over powering, nauseating. I cling onto it because it's the only comfort I have.

Go home Hunter. Put up with the abuse for another year. Go home to warmth and a decent bed.

I grit my teeth, shaking my head at my thoughts. They repeat constantly in my head, appearing when I feel the weakest. Right now, I'm broken, almost giving in.

And then I remember the pain.

I remember the stinging and burning of my skin. I remember the burning hot feel of my tears streaming down my cheeks. I remember his scowl, the way his eyebrows knitted together as he stared me down. I remember his icy words, the low laugh he did as he saw my broken expression.

Most of all, I remember the promise I made to myself.

So I clench my fists and tense my entire body as I bravely fight the cold. I have to survive, for myself.

"I've got this," I murmur, blowing air into my hands. I close my eyes and sigh deeply, leaning back against the dirty walls. The cardboard underneath me shifts from my sudden movement and I groan, feeling a patch of cold slab meet my bottom.

I don't want to stand to adjust it, the mere thought of moving right now caused me to shudder. My entire body ached and screamed at me in agony, begging for comfort.

That's when I hear it. It starts off low, like a gentle humming sound.

I pause, freezing in place as I strain to hear the whereabouts of the noise. I swallow the fear building up inside my throat, ignoring the way my hands trembled as I peer around the front of the doorway. I turn my head to the left, narrowing my eyes as I study the dark road. It's pitch black outside, the streets deserted. People are at home with their families, tucked up on couches with their blankets. Cup of tea in hand whilst they watch their favourite soap drama on the television.

No-one is outside at this time of night.

No-one except... the homeless. One of me.

I warily turn my head to the right as I study the remaining part of the dark road, constantly reminding myself to not overreact.

Maybe it's an animal. Or the wind playing tricks on me.

Or... it could be a murderer.

"Stop it Hunter," I mutter, leaning back into the doorway and wrapping my arms around myself. I shake my head at my silly thoughts, pushing the fear away until it becomes non-existent. Silence falls upon me once again and I sigh, resting my head against the brick wall.

If I try to sleep, it'll pass the time. Some days, I'm too scared to sleep. I'm afraid every time I close my eyes, I'll be vulnerable.

I'm fourteen years old but my mind is one of an adult. I've had to grow upon my years if I want to survive living on the streets. Within a few weeks, I mastered the basics.

Don't pay attention to yourself. Don't steal someone else's spot. Don't trust a single soul.

It's simple really.

If you can deal with the cold and the lonely dark nights. Not to mention the stabs of hunger that never seem to disappear. I've learned to block out the feeling of hunger, ignore the rumble of my empty stomach.

I frown as I hear another rustle, sounding like it came from a few feet away from me. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut as I silently pray to whatever god is out there.

"Who's there?" I yell into the darkness, pushing myself further back against the metal door. It digs into my back but I can barely feel it. My heart begins thumping against my chest like crazy until I can hear it pounding in my ears.

Dear God, please save me. Whoever is out there, please save me from them. I can't handle anymore pain.

It's too late, God can't help me in this situation.

A tight grip on my collar yanks me to my feet and I yell out, kicking and clawing with my hands. The movement is so fast and smooth, I barely see them. They remain behind me the entire time, their grip tightening further until I'm finding it hard to breathe. My muscles scream out in pain from the sudden movement but I grit my teeth, fighting with all the strength I can.

"Let go of me!" I yell, kicking backwards as hard as I can.

"She'll do, bring her in."

A male voice, low and deep. His words are the last I hear as I feel a painful jab into the side of my neck. Warm liquid is injected into my body and I immediately grow limp, my eyelids fluttering shut.

"You bastard," I mumble, my words barely audible. I can feel him effortlessly pick me up, carrying me in his arms. I want to kick and scream and fight but my body has lost all control.

"You'll thank me one day sweetheart."

I open my mouth to tell him to get stuffed but my eyes choose to roll to the back of my head in that exact moment.

That's when I lose all consciousness.


The present.

I breathe deeply, focusing on the oxygen entering my body. In front of me are my instructors, Jason and Micah. Both of them are standing with their legs slightly bent, arms ready for me to strike. A small smirk flashes across my face as I warily take a step forward.

"Who wants to go first this time?" I ask, my voice dripping with confidence. I search their expressions from under my dark lashes, a sparkle in my eye.

"It's your call Hunter," Jason says calmly, his expression neutral. His ash blonde hair is messily tousled on top of his head from where I previously grabbed him in a headlock. The shadow of a dark bruise covers his cheek and his right eye is swollen, closing over. I can see the muscles in his arms tense as he becomes increasingly agitated.

"I'll go for Micah, you look a little delicate there Jason," I smirk and his dark blue eyes flash a shade darker as he registers my words. He lifts his hand up, motioning for me to come at him and I pause, my eyebrow raised in surprise. Beside him, Micah is watching me like a hawk. I can feel his dark eyes follow my every move, waiting for the moment to attack. I hold my hand up at him, signalling for him to pause.

"I don't listen to you Hunter, get on with it. I don't have all day," he says bluntly, his words almost a low growl coming from his throat. Micah has the tendency to mumble under his breath instead of talk. I roll my eyes at his response and make my decision within a split second.

I jump in the air, hurtling towards Micah with my foot outstretched. He sees me coming and reaches up, grabbing me before twisting my body painfully. I land hard onto the mats beneath me and hiss under my breath. Barely a second goes by before I'm back on my feet again, throwing a punch at Micah's jaw. He ducks out of the way and I groan in frustration, already heading towards my next move. I spin behind him, gripping tightly onto his arm an yanking it as high as I can. Micah is twice my height but that doesn't stop me.

He lets out a groan of pain for two seconds and I smirk, keeping hold of his arm before kicking out with my legs at Jason. It strikes him in the throat and he jumps backwards, coughing and spluttering.

"Nice work Hunter," Jason wheezes, holding up his palm before walking off the mats. I release Micah's hold and take a few steps back, reaching up to wipe the sweat off my forehead. I can feel the adrenaline cursing through my blood, lighting up my body.

"Come on Micah, don't tell me you're as bad as Jason." I say under my breath, holding his intense gaze. His eyes are a dark brown, almost black. I can see his jaw physically tense from my words and I smile, knowing I've pressed his buttons.

"I can go all night Hunter, just say the word," he snaps back at me, his lips twitching up as he takes a threatening step forward. I jump back immediately, on guard as I follow his every move. We both circle the training mats, eyes locked on one another.

"Can you show me?" I ask him, trying my luck. Micah's eyebrows shoot up but other than that, he doesn't seem affected by my words. He continues to prey on me, his broad shoulders tensed and ready to attack.

"Don't flirt with me Hunter, it doesn't work."


I feel my nerves increase knowing I'm about to have my arse whooped by my instructor.

"Go easy on me," I bargain with him, my words low so only he can hear them. I see his eyes soften for a brief second before he masks it over, his usual hard expression firmly back in place.

"Begging really isn't your strong point Hunter."

And then, he attacks me.

Libre Baskerville
Gentium Book Basic
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