Chapter 126.

Ten minutes after the plane took off, Val stood up and said she needed the restroom. I was tempted to follow her because I had a bad feeling something bad would happen when she just happened to be gone. Honestly, why else would she leave if not for something bad about to happen?

When I noticed her mischievous smile that suggested she’d read my thoughts, it appeared as if she was eagerly waiting for me to follow behind her. I instinctively felt like it would also lead to something much more troublesome if I really got up. If I was damned if I went and damned if I didn’t, I might as well just sit here and relax while I still could. Only fools would claim they would regret it less if they take action rather than no action; well I say nay, relax and enjoy the good times to the last second while you still can.

When Val realized I had no intention to follow her, she quietly whispered in my ear, “Such a shame, I was curious about those movie scenes on planes that I’ve heard happen a lot in the bathroom.” Upon which, she left without sparing me another glance. The only thing that remained in her place was the scent of her perfume that lingered in the seat to my side.

Her suggestive words had me thinking of all sorts of rather interesting scenarios. In fact, there was even one time in the past when we were in a similar situation. It was a long flight and she’d done something even more risqué than in a private space like a bathroom. The majority of the other passengers were asleep at that time. All I could say was, there were three parties involved in that incident. A blanket, Rose, and me. The younger me was too easily dragged into her pace.

I naturally understood very well what sort of scenes she referred to, but as I’d matured, I wouldn’t just jump at every offer like a horny teenager in puberty. I’m not secretly regretting it and extremely salty on the inside right now or anything. Trust me, I’m really not… There was a time and place for everything. No matter how hot I think it would actually be deep down, I can’t possibly let that part of my body control me. Its thoughts like those that lead to a man with a mask and machete cutting down the door and lopping off your head. I’m not a dumbass who’d fall for that blatant trap.

Wouldn’t that actually make for an interesting story though? A murderer, one by one, kills off everyone on a plane without anyone realizing a thing? You can’t really run, escape, or hide, right?

While I mused over the idea of a story like that in my head with my eyes closed, I patiently awaited Val’s return. Five minutes passed by quickly and I heard movement beside me when she got back and sat down. When I reopened my eyes, instead of being greeted by her familiar black hair, I discovered someone I hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Beautiful wavy white hair, coupled with a flawless complexion. She had the same short black one-piece dress I’d always seen her in before. She seemed slightly bored, with her head directed toward the front of the plane, but I noticed her eyes were slightly angled in my direction. When she noticed that I was looking back at her, she smiled slightly while her eyes closed halfway. She opened her mouth as if she intended to say something to me, but not a single sound escaped her lips. I tried to read her lips, but I wasn’t too proficient in that area so I was unable to discern her intent.

“Everybody put your hands where we can see them! This is a hijacking! If you resist, prepare to forfeit your life on the spot!”

My eyes immediately shot up in the direction of the front of the plane where the shout originated from.

“If you resist we’ll shoot you on sight! We’ve already killed the pilot and have bombs planted all over the plane!”

He held up a decapitated head in front of the crowd which caused the voices of outrage to still when they understood the severity of the situation. Fresh blood visibly dripped down from the pilot's head while bits of flesh dangled beneath it; it was an image that made one’s blood run cold from its overly grotesque nature.

It reminded me of a certain terrorist group from the Middle East and I was terrified just from the thought of it alone. It was something I feared much more than some little ghost. Being directly involved in a terrorist hijacking was something I never thought I would ever experience first hand like this. I thought I’d done pretty well to use reverse psychology to cancel out any god awful foreshadowing by calling it before it happened, to think that it really happened after all. I was mortified. The snuff videos I’d seen online of the group that performed such atrocities, I never thought I’d have a run-in with them in this short life of mine.

Shit! I’m just a civilian! Why do I have to put up with something as outlandish and unreasonable as this?

The group of men in the aisle slowly made their way from the front of the plane to the back while they scanned through all the passengers carefully. They menacingly pulled out men from their seats who were more robust and held them at gunpoint. A few armed men passed by my seat, one man in particular stopped and shoved the muzzle of his gun into my mouth and said, “Get up or die. Choose now.”

I kept my cool and nodded my head in understanding. Panicking now would only lead to me losing my life sooner rather than later. I slowly got up with my hands in the air to make it clear I was unarmed and not resisting in the slightest.

Lately, the situation always devolves far too quickly, I never have a chance to think of any countermeasures.

God damn it! I wish I had at least disguised my face before I got on the plane. Was it just a coincidence they chose me? Or was I their real target because of that ridiculous bounty on my head?

If I willingly cooperated with them I might at least have a chance to survive. At the very least, it was much easier for them to transport a cooperative person who was alive over a dead body. After all, the contract said, ‘wanted dead or alive.’ They may have even struck a deal to increase the bounty if I was taken alive, right?

Two lines were made at the front of the plane in the aisles. They’d tied up women, children, the less threatening men, the elderly, and lined them all up in one aisle. The more robust men with strong appearances were held at gunpoint, bound, and lined up in the adjacent aisle. It was a clear, distinct, division of power. There were the easily handled hostages, while the rest were the ones that could be problematic. I was grouped together with the problematic ones for god knows what reason.

I wasn’t robust in any way shape or form, so I really felt like the odd one out in the group. When I finally understood where things were headed, my heart sank to rock bottom. There were two men before me in line. The terrorists unbound the first man’s hands and gave him a large machete then instructed him.

“Behead this child and join us, or die. Choose now.”