Thank you all for your lovely reviews, they really made my day!
no-name 102, I should be in bed right now, sleeping soundly, but after I saw your review and since you are the first person to favorite my story, I just had to write this next chapter and post it immediately (can't leave you guys waiting, can I?)
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Anyway, this chapter is kinda lacking action, but I have to set the stage for what's coming next, forgive me ;P
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As soon as the plane touched the ground, the mercenaries shoved me and Pavel out, and then immediately into a big black truck. I hated their rough hands groping me, pushing me as they liked, but I remained quiet. I didn't dare push my luck, not after the memory of the dead people, lying just inches away from me on the plane, stayed fresh. It made me want to throw up, but I swallowed it down, sitting down at the back of the truck, crossing my arms over my chest.
The men came in behind Pavel and me, with the bearded man sitting across from us. He never broke his gaze away, and I found him oddly strange. Kinda funny looking guy, serious but smirking at the same time.
The truck had no windows, so I had absolutely no idea where they were taking us. Or even in which country I was in. On which continent.
Judging by the fact they all spoke english, we were back in the USA. And judging by their weapons, some shit was going to go down in the near future.
I felt something poke at my side and I looked down slowly. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself, but still I had to see. Pavel was gently poking me with his hand, searching for my hand. He took it in his, his grip strong. He was trembling slightly, but so was I. We fueled each other, trying to stay ourselves and not break apart.
I noticed his wound wasn't bleeding anymore and it almost made me smile. Slowly and gently I untangled my fingers from his and put my hands in my lap, clutching onto my sides. I didn't want others to think I knew Pavel. Because then they would blackmail him with my life.
Suddenly the truck hit its brakes and I flew ahead, catching myself on the floor. The men smirked and it made me want to bash their stupid teeth in.
The back door opened and before I even knew it, I was being dragged outside, practically thrown out on the street. The mercenaries didn't allow no stopping whatsoever and immediately pushed me forward to begin walking. I looked around me, as fast as I could, trying to figure out where the fuck I was.
The buildings didn't look familiar, not one bit, and I felt my mood drop dangerously low when I figured there was no way I would ever find out. I was lost. Hopelessly and utterly lost.
I felt stinging in my eyes as tears threatened to come out, but I urged them away. I took one last look, before they pushed me down a hole in the ground. What I saw in the distance completely paralized me. So much, that I literally fell down the hole and landed flat on my butt.
A poster of the white knight, Harvey Dent. I was back in Gotham.
»Ow...« I half groaned half cried and rubbed my sore ass.
It felt as if I broke something, but I knew that was not the case. Nobody gave me even a glance as I picked myself up, unceremoniously cleaning the dirt off my behind and stumbling after the men. They lead me through dark passages, completely silent apart from the sound of drops falling from the celling.
Only then did I realize I was in the sewers. Underground. For god knows how long.
In this utter darkness it was quite tempting to just give in and finally cry my eyes out, but I waited. I waited and waited, walking for what seemed like hours but was probably just mere minutes. Everything hurt. My ass, my stomach rumbled and my feet were literally killing me. And slowly I felt a headache start building up, from the lack of wearing my glasses. My vision was shit, just like my surroundings.
It slowly got better once we entered a much more open place, with actual lights installed and some kind of an infrastructure.
I saw men working on the construction, building god knows what. They were all busy, not even one of them stopping to rest or look at us.
The bearded man pushed me forward, when I unknowingly stopped. He still had that weird expression on his face and his eyes had a strange color. Not brown, not blue... but something in between. He smirked and nudged me again, so increased my pace.
Just as I thought I was about to get lost in the labyrinth that were the sewers, the bearded man grabbed my arm to stop me. I stopped dead in my tracks, looking around myself, wide-eyed. I had no idea what was going on or where I was headed.
»Take him away,« a mechanical voice said and I immediately recognized it to be the masked man's.
I looked around and noticed him standing beside Pavel. He shoved the doctor to his men, who grabbed him and led him around the corner, away from my sight.
The remaining men scattered away as well, seemingly everybody had their own role in this hell hole.
»What should I do with the girl?« The bearded man asked and I felt myself getting smaller and smaller under the masked man's relentless gaze.
»Show her her new working place. Then she will sleep.«
I couldn't help but feel absolutely and utterly useless as I stood there, while they were taking like I was an animal. It. Like I wasn't even there.
The masked man gave me one last look, before he continued on his way. And so I was left alone with an unknown, heavily armed man that kept looking at me like a psychopath, smirking as usual.
He let go of my arm and I turned toward him. He began walking away, not saying a word. Awkwardly I began following him, feeling completely humiliated. I saw how the other men looked at me. Like I was a dog. The masked man's bitch.
The stinging came back to my eyes and I wondered if I would be better off dead. If it would have been better if Joker never pressed that damn button and let me out of his cell.
I felt chills go down my spine at the memory of his bottomless pitch black eyes and that endless gaze. The way his lips brushed over mine...
I didn't even notice the man stop before me and I gloriously collided with his back. For a moment there was only the ringing in my head and before I knew it, the world was spinning.
»What are you doing?« He asked, calm as ever.
»I'm so sorry, sir... I... didn't mean to...«
I tried staying humble, polite. Maybe that way they will let me live longer. My days were numbered anyway, but hey, maybe I could make them last longer.
»Don't do it again,« he warned.
»Yes, sir,« I said, tail between my legs, shoulders and head down. Like a fucking dog that I was.
After some more turns and silent moaning from my side, he led me to a room. If you could even call it that. It had all four walls, yeah, but no door, just empty passage that led inside. The walls were made from cement, as was the floor. There was almost nothing inside, except some metal beds with bedding that looked down right disgusting. It was wet from all the sewer's water and the air was humid. It was dirty and dark, but in the eyes of the masked man, I suppose it served its purpose. Whatever the hell that was.
»This is the dispensary, where you will work.«
»Forgive me for asking but... where is all the medical kit?«
I looked around the room, but couldn't see anything apart from the beds and a large metal box. The bearded man walked over to the box and opened it swiftly.
»Inside you will find first aid kit and injections and such. Use whatever you need.«
»Where are the doctors?«
»There are none.«
»Excuse me?« I asked, dumbfounded.
»Do I need to repeat myself?«
»No, I just... I'm not a doctor and-.«
»I know. But you will suffice.«
I stared at the man, mouth hanging open. These people were insane. I was far from being an actual medical worker and now I was supposed to treat the ill. What the absolute fuck. I was sure anybody under my care was going to die instantly and then I would follow their steps after the masked man declares me useless. Which I, without a doubt, was. God have mercy on my soul.
»Oh...«
»Now, come.«
Without stopping or waiting for me he marched right out and led me to the construction site that I saw before.
»Remember the path, you will walk over the dispensary on your own tomorrow.«
Just fucking great. I was the worst at locating things. The inccident with Harvey Dent and my GPS was enough to tell the tale.
»Yes, sir.«
»You don't have to call me that all the time,« he said, not even looking back at me.
»What should I call you then?«
»Barsad,« he said, in a heartbeat.
I wondered what kind of a name that was. The man obviously had a heavy accent, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out where he was from.
»You never told me your name,« he said out of the blue and I swallowed hard.
There was no way I was telling mercenaries nad terrorists my real name.
»You may call me whatever you like,« I said after careful consideration.
He laughed out loud then, it was the first time in days I heard laughter so sincere.
»You are far more clever than I thought. I underestimated you.«
»Um... thank you?« I said, not quite sure how to reply to that.
Once again I felt so awkward, following him like he was my master or something. Like a damn puppy. It was so embarrassing.
»Any preferences? To what I should call you?« He asked, never stopping.
I lost track of where we were ten times by now and I just knew tomorrow was going to be hella hard finding my way to my working place.
I wondered then, thinking about all the names I could think about, when the most obvious came to mind. But of course, how did I not see this before?
»Dog.«
»What?« He asked and actually stopped and turned around to see if I was playing or down right crazy.
»Dog,« I repeated.
He laughed again but nodded nevertheless.
»Why?«
»It suits the situation.«
He nodded again, walking to the unknown once more.
»You're right. It does match you.«
Well thank you, motherfucker, thank you very much. I kept my sharp tongue locked away in my mouth, although I would love nothing more than to speak my mind.
When he stopped again I almost crashed into him, but managed to stop at the last second.
»You will sleep here.«
He motioned over to a small blanket on the wet floor, that perhaps in someone's wildest dreams and incredible imagination could be called a cot or even a sleeping place. To me, it was like a dog's crate.
I reluctantly sat down on it, surrounded by men working on construction, dirty sewer waterfalls and noise like no other. Just as I was trying to get cozy on my spot on the floor, Barsad laughed again.
»You know, looking at you now, you couldn't have found a better name for yourself.«
»Woof,« I seriously whispered to him, but he heard me just fine.
I watched him walk away, that big riffle swinging at his side. All around me were the most dangerous men the world had to offer and there I was, sitting in the middle of it, dreaming of my family. I should be home by now. I should be having hot cocoa, hugging my mom and telling her all about the disaster that was Gotham for me. Instead I was in the sewers, all alone, even though I was surrounded by people, crying myself to sleep.
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