Chapter 2
Sage heard voices before she actually saw anything.
She was aware of her surroundings: she was lying on a cold stone floor, her arms were wrenched behind her and bound far too tightly, and she was hurting all over. With out opening her eyes, she did a once over, trying to pinpoint all the aches individually.
Her calf hurt the most, a sharp throbbing that told her it hadn't been bandaged, and her boot hadn't even been removed. Her shoulder hurt as well, but she could tell it was only bruised. Her head ached like it had been slammed into a concrete wall—oh yeah. It had. Her side stung when she breathed in, although she didn't know why. And her face hurt. She was sure her cheekbone must have a nasty bruise by now. Opening her eyes at last, she cursed Dorchette and his stupid katana for that.
It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom, but once they did, she saw Roa sitting on a wooden crate talking to a woman with short white hair and a…well, a really cool tattoo across her shoulder and up onto her face. She was very pretty. The baldy and The-Idiot-With-the-Katana were no where to be seen, but a tall man with slicked back, blond hair and a thin moustache had taken their place.
Sage had been tossed in a corner of the small, concrete room with one light at the far end. There were crates and rope and other things like that scattered helter-skelter around it, and the guards—she had guessed that to be the occupation of the three other people—were sitting on some of them.
Sage desperately wanted to shift into a more comfortable position, but would rather not draw attention to herself. Bracing her chin against the dirty floor, she managed to move her shoulder out from under her body quietly enough, but as she was lowering herself to the floor, her side screamed in protest, and she hissed through her teeth.
Of course I can't stay out of trouble. She griped to herself as the blonde man's head jerked up.
"Well, well, well." He chuckled. She really did not like the grin plastered to his face. "It's awake." He started towards her and she automatically scooted away from him.
"Leppun…." Said the woman with white hair softly, a warning.
"I'm not going to hurt her…noticeably." His voice was oily and thick, and it made her shudder with disgust. She wouldn't let him see that she was afraid of him, though, so she bared her teeth and smirked at him as he approached, her cheekbone protesting.
Finally he was standing over her, sneering at her attempt to seem defiant.
"You're quite the little punk, aren't you?" he said with disdain. "Luckily, it doesn't take much to cure that particular ailment." He batted her cheek with his grimy boot, right where it hurt. She growled in the back of her throat and promptly spat on the boot. He didn't seem fazed.
"It's a shame you can't morph all the way." Leppun said, a hint of anger in his voice, as he dug his heel into her back and turned her around so her back was to him, tapping on her spotted skin with his toe.
"You'd make a lovely rug. And just think! If you were a rug," he slid her around again to face him. "I could beat you," with this, he buried his foot in her ribs. "All I want."
She gasped like a fish out of water, curling into a ball. She wanted to wrap her arms around her middle and try to hold herself together, but they were strapped behind her, so all she could do was cough and roll around onto her stomach. She didn't cry out, and was proud of herself for that, but she couldn't help but make little noises of pain now and then. Now her side was killing her, and she just wanted to go home and go to sleep with the little dog that had befriended her.
Far too soon, Leppun nudged her back to her side. "Hm. Didn't like that?" he chuckled mirthlessly. "Well I guess you just—"
"Leppun." A deep voice was suddenly there as well, and Sage opened her eyes blearily. It was Roa, and he was standing authoritatively before her, his arms across his chest. She noticed that one was wrapped with clean white cloth. Leppun glared angrily at him.
"Lemme at her, Roa! Why do you care what happens to this chick? She's garbage."
"She's had enough." He growled.
And with that, Leppun submitted, and walked away. Roa followed, not even glancing back at her. Silently, she thanked him. She didn't know how much more of that she could take. She closed her eyes and tried to think healing thoughts, while catching her breath.
It seemed only minutes had passed before she heard people approaching, and Leppun was by her side again, looking pleased. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up to his face to whisper, "Must stand up for Mr. Greed," before wrenching her to her feet. Her body almost went numb with pain, but Leppun held her up by one arm. She barely managed to keep herself vertical, and only did so by leaning heavily against the disgusting man on her left, her head sagging. Suddenly, his rough hands were replaced by gentler, softer ones, and Sage looked up into the face of the pretty, white-haired woman.
The woman smiled at her and let her fall to her knees, where she could at least hold herself up. Leppun was back by Roa, clutching his forearm in pain and glaring at the woman.
Then, the door opened and Dorchette, The Baldy, and a few other people filed in. From the midst of them came a man.
He was tall and very well built, with spiky black hair and little round sunglasses on that gave the impression of beady eyes. She wondered idly if he had stolen them from The Baldy. Why he was wearing sunglasses in such a dark building was beyond her. He had dark clothes on, and his wrists were wrapped loosely with leather bands. His left hand was being run through his hair and bore a strange tattoo. He had the air of someone in charge.
The man strode up to her and knelt down to be at her level.
"I'm Greed. Let's be friends." He drawled, grinning. Sage blinked. His teeth. They were pointed and sharp. She looked down at his hand, extended for her to shake, and looked back at him pointedly.
"Ha! Oh yeah. Cut her loose, Martel." He grinned again, waiting for her to shake.
So that was her name. Martel deftly cut through the bindings that ran all the way up her arms. It felt sooo good to be able to move them again. After flexing them and getting the blood flowing correctly, she looked back to Greed. She was already going to get herself killed, why not enjoy what she could?
So she punched Greed in the face. His glasses clattered to the floor.
Everyone in the room except for Roa and Martel went into offensive positions, drawing weapons seemingly from thin air. Greed simply held up a hand, and they relaxed, somewhat. He turned back to her, grinning still.
He had a handsome face, with a masculine jaw line and a straight nose, set off by smallish-but-nice eyes, although, they were strange.
His eyes were deep red, with a tiny slit for a pupil, a little like hers, except hers were green, and much less intimidating. She drew back from him, her face still set in a determined glare, but diluted with fear now. She didn't know this guy, or what he was capable of.
"I don't like to hit women, or else that would have cost you." He said quietly, blood on his lip. He wiped it away slowly, not taking his eyes from hers. She wished he would.
"Like I said: Let's be friends." Once more, he extended his hand to shake, but this time, it was more of a threat, or an order, than a choice. She really didn't want to shake his hand. She would rather slap him, or strangle him, or just run screaming from the place. But, like a good little hostage, she extended her hand and placed it in his much larger one. His grip was strong, and he shook it happily.
"There!" he said triumphantly. "Not so bad. Now," he said, standing. "It is my policy to never lie." He stood up straight as he said this, putting his hands on his hips. "So because you are new—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a metal hammer swung and hit him square in the head, of which half went flying, and he collapsed to the ground, dead.
Sage blanched at all the blood everywhere, and looked up to the hammer wielder. It was Roa. She stared at him a moment before saying shakily, "WH-why would you do that?! I thought you all were….together…"
In the middle of her sentence, Greed's body snapped right back up, as though it had never been on the ground, and his head was reforming around his jaw, the bone, the muscle, the tissue, everything, was zapping and just appearing in place. Soon, he was completely whole again, the only evidence he had ever been struck was the blood on his jaw and the popping sound as he realigned his neck, smirking a little. "Well that's one death," He intoned, wiping his cheek. "Although, you could make it a little less messy."
"Sorry," said Roa, not really sounding sorry.
"Anyway. So if you want to kill me, or harm me in any way, you've gotta have a pretty elaborate plan. So far, no one's succeeded." He droned, studying his nails. "But since we're friends, I don't think it'll be a problem, no?" Sage could only stare at him in horror. He smirked down at her again.
"You'll get used to it." With that he turned and began to walk out the door, gesturing with his chin for them to follow. Martel hauled Sage to her feet, and they started off after him.
Sage soon came to the discovery that she couldn't walk. Her calf still sent pain ripping through her entire leg with every movement, and her ribs groaned every time she tried to straighten up. Soon, she stumbled, one arm clutching her middle, bracing herself against a wall with the other. She cursed her own incapability, but in her entire history of fighting, she had never felt this horrible before, never been this beat-up, so she didn't know how to deal with it.
Martel tried to cover for her, but soon turned to her, whispering urgently, "Come on, you've gotta get going, or Mr. Greed will be upset with both of us!" She had an accent that Sage couldn't quite place.
"I don't care! Let him get upset!" but her façade of frustration soon collapsed. "I can't, though, Martel. My leg, and him." she jutted her chin at Leppun. "I would keep going, really, but it's rather—"
A voice grumbled from ahead, "So troublesome." And boot steps headed back to them.
"What is it now, Martel." Greed griped. It wasn't a question, really. He took an appraising look at Sage with a bored expression before rolling his eyes, taking a deep breath and calling, "Leppun."
Leppun flinched visibly, but hurried to his master's side. "Y-yes, sir."
Greed smiled somewhat appreciatively. "Is this your handiwork?"
His expression didn't look dangerous at all, more along the lines of encouraging, so Leppun smiled a little, and said, "Yeah, when she was tied up back there."
Sage glared at them with all the fearsomeness she could muster. She would not be talked about like she didn't matter, and she wouldn't be beaten up for the approval of Greed.
Greed nodded once, and before Sage could see what had happened, Leppun was doubled over, and Greed was walking away, flicking blood from his fingers like it was no big deal. Leppun leaned against the wall and glowered at her, blood dripping from his side.
"Don't touch my stuff." Greed sounded from his place at the front. And then they were off again, the pace no easier for her to handle, but now Leppun had been left behind growling threats as she hobbled past. Feeling brave, she stuck her tongue out at him. She couldn't help but wonder why Greed had defended her, though. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, as long as she didn't get totally creamed again.
After a while, and at some unseen signal, Martel steered her into one of the many rooms they passed, and shut the door behind her. It was a small room, but it had a few blankets in one corner and a flickering light fixed haphazardly to the ceiling. She supposed this was where she would be staying for an indefinite amount of time. At least she could stop moving and take a look at herself.
"So uh…this is your room, now. The uh, the bathroom is down that way," she gestured to the left. "But I'm pretty sure a guard will be close by if you try anything."
She stood there for another awkward moment, and then turned to the door, but Sage called her back.
"Martel, is it okay if I call you that?"
She nodded, smiling a little.
"Martel, um, why am I here?"
"Well, mainly because we aren't supposed to be. This is a secret complex, underground. If you get out, so will our secret. That's all you need to know." She hadn't said it to be mean, but it was apparent that she wasn't going to say anything else about where exactly she was.
"And um…why did Greed do that to the guy that beat me up?"
Martel looked at her for a long moment, and Sage couldn't read her expression. "Let's get something clear. Mr. Greed doesn't care about you or your well-being, and never will. It's like he said, you're his 'stuff' now. You belong to him whether you like it or not, and if he wants you beaten he'll do it himself. Don't go getting ideas that you're special. Mr. Greed will do whatever he pleases with you, and when he's done, he'll dispose of you. I know this isn't what you are accustomed to, but you're going to have to tone down the aggressiveness if you want to survive for very long down here." She paused. "But I must say: I admire your courage. It takes a lot to show what you did in the face of the unknown. You got guts."
With that, she smiled once more, and was gone.
Sage scooted back against the dingy wall, seeing her situation in a whole new light. Her escape was hopeless, with this level of guards and security. She was a captive, a piece of property now. The man in charge cared only for himself and was only interested in bettering his situation. If she was useful—she shuddered at what that might mean—she was safe. But when she ceased being of use…
One thing was certain: she wasn't getting out of here alive.
