The Adventures of Tintin - The Secret of the Vivace Code [EDITING]

Chapter 11 - Poor Room Service

Slowly I sit up in my bed, rubbing my eyes and murmuring groggily. Upon opening the shutters on the window bright sunlight illuminates the pitch room.

I stumble to the bathroom and start to fill the tub with piping hot water, the memory of the Captain's vomit making me itching to feel truly clean again.

As it runs, I sit on the small balcony over looking the street below. There appears to be a market being set up. I smile a little to myself, I love markets, maybe I can go later this morning...

The sound of a sharp knock echoes from back in my room and I go to answer it. I so wish people would stop knocking and simply call my room. It's getting bothersome.

"Um, hello," I call when I reach the peeling door.

"Room service," someone replies. It's a man ; old sounding and gruff. How odd, I swear there was only a maid?

"Oh," I mumble. I better tell him to come later if I'm getting in the bath... I open the door to address him.

"Hello, I was wondering if - " I start but never get to finish my sentence.

An enormous fist smacks into me and I stumble away, the shock and pain blinding me for a moment. The man steps into the room rubbing his knuckles and shoves me into the wall. I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror only to see a river of crimson pouring from my obviously broken nose. Brilliant.

The muscular thug grabs me by the collar of my dressing gown and pulls me into a choker hold. His thick arms wrap around my neck and start to squeeze. I can feel my windpipe being slowly crushed and the oxygen to my brain being cut off.

I'm going to black out.

I start to thrash around, desperately trying to loosen his grip as panic sets in. My left leg smacks into his knee and he grunts angrily, I strike him again and the knee buckles. The man loosens his grip when trying to regain his balance, I slip through his arms and hit the polished floor gasping wildly for breath and clutching my throat.

He tries to come for me again but I duck out of the way, missing his left hook by mere millimetres. It's obvious I cannot beat this man. His muscle and brawn works to his advantage in this small space whereas I cannot use my speed and agility at all. Despite his thug like build he moves with admirable fluidity. Quite frankly, I'm being outclassed.

I start to yell as loud as my sore throat will allow me. That should scare him. People rushing to the rescue is less than ideal for him right now. His brow furrows in fury. I manage to dodge three of his punches and I can see his anger building. His desperation to shut me up is clouding his judgement and his lunges are becoming less accurately placed -

The thug pulls a knife from beneath his jacket in one swooping movement and slashes at my nightgown, tearing the sleeve. He swipes again and opens up my forearm. I scream in panic and dash into the bathroom in an attempt to escape him only to slip and fall to the ground. I gasp in pain and immediately realise the bath has overflown. The hot water scolds my skin and mingles with the blood pouring freely from my wounds.

The man stands over me and raises the knife to deliver the killing blow - I brace myself.

Then, a clash.

I open my eyes to find that ceramic rains over the pair of us, a vase having been shattered over my attackers head. He no longer clutches the knife as staggers for a moment before collapsing and smacking his head on the bathroom cabinet.

Tintin, Snowy and Captain Haddock peer worriedly down at my crumpled form lying on pastel blue bathroom tiles.

"And where the holy hell have you been?" I mutter weakly before blood loss steals my consciousness and darkness shrouds my vision. I black out.

-

"Captain Haddock had to carry you to the infirmary," Tintin informs me as I lay in my uncomfortable hospital bed and sip some sweet tea.

My arm has been stitched up and wrapped in linen bandages in addition to my nose has been yanked back into place. Not much could have been done about my scalded skin however and the sheets are making it itchy.

"Oh god," I grumble. Snowy chooses this precise moment to leap onto my bed and curl up in between Tintin and I, Tintin smiles wryly and ruffles the terriers ears fondly.

"The police are trying to identify him now, they reckon that he was sent to kill you, his friend was on the balcony above me and the Captain waiting for the signal to come for us. It really is a good job you started screaming your tonsils out," Tintin says, almost mockingly.

"Yes, well it's not like I was scared or anything, I just didn't want to die, you know?"

Tintin laughs, "Of course."

We are interrupted as a tall officer strides into the room and murmurs something quickly to Tintin. Tintin frowns slightly and nods.

"He was working for Iva," he mutters irritably as the officer leaves us, "he must know we are searching for him."

Snowy grumbles to himself and jumps off of my bed.

"How could he possibly know that?" I ask.

"I don't know but we must leave as soon as you are well," Tintin says, "We need to catch Iva fast before he tries anything else like this."

"The doctors say I'll be fine to travel by tomorrow," I lie smoothly. In truth I'll be sore for quite sometime.

"Fantastic, I'll organise a trip to Ovindoli," Tintin says, serious yet once again buzzing with excitement. He clearly lives for this.

I watch him as he turns to speak to Snowy as he leaves, "We'll be home by next week, you'll see."