Jerome stood before the house. He noticed the door had been fixed, which meant Luke must have been home. He so hoped he was still there.

Upon entering, he didn't sense any other presence apart from his own. That was okay, it gave him some time to collect Alice's things like she had asked. He climbed the stairs and soon found her room. When he opened the door, her smell hit him. He indulged in it for a moment before stepping inside, she smelt so sweet. Like candy.

He found the bag she told him about under the bed, pulled it out and dropped it on the bed. He opened the wardrobe and took her clothes, placed them in the bag, then moved to the draw. After opening it, he couldn't help but smile when his eyes saw her underwear. He had to admit, it looked a lot better on her than it did in the draw. He shook the thought from his head, now was no the time. After placing them in the bag, he gathered the last of her things.

A noise sounded from downstairs.

Jerome paused zipping up the bag and listened carefully. From the heaviness of their footsteps, he could tell it was a man.

"Fucking door."

He recognized the voice, causing a smile to creep onto his face. He hadn't turned any of the lights on, so as far as Luke knew, he was alone.

Luke argued with the door, but managed to finally get it closed. With another swig from his beer , he walked into the kitchen. He switched on the light and walked to the refrigerator to grab some food. When he turned around, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Jerome sat at the table, a smile on his face. "Hello Luke."

"Who the...how the hell did you-" Luke felt a sudden surge of pain struck through his head and he fell to the ground.


Luke's head felt as if it were about to burst. He opened his eyes and took a moment or two to focus. He was still in his house, the kitchen. After he recovered full consciousness, he tried to move, only to find he couldn't. He looked down and saw he was tied to the chair. His feet tied to the front two chair legs by what felt like rope. His hands were tied down to the table thanks to a mixture of hand cuffs and bolts.

Jerome sat on the opposite side of the table and watched him. "I never too you for the stuttering type."

Luke's attention shot to the ginger. "Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house?" he finally managed.

"Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself," Jerome stood up from the chair and stood by its side. "Jerome Valeska." he bowed, the smile still on his face.

"Jer-" Luke's eyes flashed as he realized who he was. "Where the hell is my girlfriend?"

"Finally the penny drops! Took you long enough." he smirked. Jerome walked closer to the captive Luke, "Seems you and I need to talk."

Luke tugged at his restraints, trying to break free. "What the fuck do you want?"

"It's not what I want, it's what Alice wants."

Luke seemed to listen intently to this comment.

Jerome broke his gaze from Luke and wandered behind him. "Do you know what she does every night, without fail?" Jerome looked out of the window. "She looks up to the stars and makes a wish." He turned to Luke, "Do you know what she wishes for?"

"What?" Luke spat.

"She wishes she could be free."

"Look mate do you have a point or are-" Luke was cut off by his own scream as Jerome plunged a knife into his hand on the table.

"I am talking!" he shouted. "Now, where was I?" his voice now calm again, "Oh yeah, she wishes to be free," he looked at Luke's tearful eyes and gritted teeth. "Free from you." He placed his hand on his chest. "Me? I'm just making her wish come true."

Luke tried to speak, but couldn't get a single syllable out.

"Hmm? What was that? You will have to speak up."

"You fucking bastard!" he screamed.

"Oh please, I drive a knife through your hand and all you can reply with is that?" Jerome sighed. "At least humour me." he pulled the knife from Luke's hand. "Now, would you like to try that insult again?"

Luke looked down at his hand, then at Jerome. "What the fuck do you want?"

"As I said, I have come here to make her wish come true." Jerome was admiring the blood on the knife. "And unfortunately for you, I can only see one way to do that. Would you like to take a guess as to what that is?"

Luke looked at the knife in Jerome's hand, then to Jerome's eyes. "You're gonna kill me?"

Jerome began to talk, but shot a look at Luke when he heard him laughing, he didn't like that.

"Yea, okay mate. You do that. I'd like to see you try."

Jerome held the tip of the knife against Luke's throat, he leaned down to his eye level. "I don't think you understand what's happening here, so let me help you out. You, are tied to a chair, I, am the one holding the knife. May I suggest you be a little more polite. Did your mother never teach you manners?"

Luke smirked, "No, but yours did when I fucked her."

"I didn't realize you were a necrophiliac." Jerome giggled.

Luke's smile faded as he watched Jerome walk to the end of the table.

"You're not the first I've had in this position and you will not be the last," Jerome admired the numerous knives he had laid out in front of him on the table top. "You see, I understand where Alice is coming from, wanting to be free and all. My mother was a lot like you, liked to beat me. Whether it be because of her anger or weather it be for pure fun, it always ended the same way. I would be left on the floor, battered and bruised. Like her, I wanted nothing more than to be free." he had decided on a knife. "I however, had the means to be free, to me it was simple. I would just kill my mother." Jerome closed his eyes and tilted his head back a little with a smile. "All the built up anger, frustration, hatred," he looked back at Luke. "But we both know Alice couldn't do that. That's why I'm here, to save her the trouble."

"You're insane..." Luke muttered. "Absolutely insane..."

"Insane? No, fair? Yes. See, ever since I laid eyes on that beauty I wanted her, but I knew there would be a catch. Then I saw you. I have fantasized many ways to kill you, but then I thought, hey, why not give him a taste of his own medicine?"

"A taste of my own medicine?"

"You beat her, burnt her, made her feel so worthless for...how long exactly?"

"Two years."

"Two years," he sang. "So now, you will endure the entirety of those two years of pain in the space of," he looked at the clock on the wall, "Shall we say an hour?"