Chapter 10:

If there was one thing Gajeel wasn't fond of, it was the graveyard shift.

He jingled the ring of keys in his hand as he walked, red eyes cutting angrily into the vaulted ceilings above him. He knew his way by heart as he'd had to do this many, many times. When he was young, it was almost every night that he'd had to traverse the twisting corridors in order to waste away his nights locked up in Phantom Lord's basements. He had dreamt of becoming one of Jose's esteemed mercenaries so he'd be rid of the degrading task altogether but even as he climbed the ranks he never shook off the remedial task.

Maybe it was Master Jose's way of making Gajeel stick to his roots.

Gajeel approached a small stairwell, looking to only be used for service members. It was so narrow Gajeel had to angle his broad shoulders down the spiraling stairs. He was released into the cold ale storerooms of a clay basement. Or, rather, it looked to be that way. The solid stone walls were lined with hard dirt so that the snooping passerby wouldn't think to look very keenly in the dark place. Large oak kegs lined the cellar, filled to the brim and bubbling with whiskeys and ales. Along every wall from ceiling to floor there were shelves of wines, vodkas, and rums. Mainly, this place was used as a store to the tavern above although Gajeel had never in his days seen it the slightest bit empty. And far in the backmost corner there was a rack holding several vintage wine glasses that Gajeel gripped firmly, pulling it aside to reveal another spiraling staircase.

These stairs were wider and well lit as opposed to the ones he'd just left and he followed them down only to be released onto slick tile. Gajeel wrinkled his nose as the pungent smell assailed him. The place reeked of human waste, sweat, and blood. Gajeel could hear the echoes of chains as well as stifled gasps of air. His crimson eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness and he walked proudly through the cells without so much as glancing in either direction. Occasionally one of the residents would gather the strength to bring themselves to the metal bars and gaze at the man walking past, immediately shrinking back when they realized whom it was that came their way.

Gajeel felt nothing but disgust for these people.

Every one of them was a thorn in the Master's side in one way or another. They were thieves, traitors, men and women who owed substantial dues to the guild, and even some were prisoners being held for ransom. This was the darker, hidden side to Master Jose's cruel reign over the region.

Human trafficking.

Gajeel's boot-falls echoed around him as he met yet another hidden doorway. This one wasn't as well disguised as the previous one, merely made from the same type of stone as the walls although a wrought iron handle protruded angrily from it. Gajeel grabbed a hold and hoisted the heavy door back, stepped inside, and let it slam angrily and latch behind him. Gajeel made his way down the dank passageway, his nose receiving a slight relief from the terrible odors from the cells now sealed away from him. Down this hall there were five doors, two to his left, two to his right, and one at the very end.

This was for solitary confinement. Only the most high profile prisoners were kept in these cells. This place had been nicknamed by those before Gajeel to be the Graveyard. The people who would end up locked in this place were forgotten. Some were ordained life-sentences by Jose himself and others were high dollar missions that went south. Anyone who came down here, for whatever reason, a part of them would die before their departure. If not their body it would be their mind.

As Gajeel had seen on many occasions when he'd had to take he graveyard shift, the human mind could only sustain this type of isolation for so long.

Right now, there was only one prisoner and Master Jose wanted to be sure that whatever happened, they stay perfectly sound of mind. This was precisely why special parameters had been completed in order to ensure some basic luxuries where in place.

Gajeel unlocked the heavy wooden door and swung it open easily, watching as the last postman perked up and a look of relief washed over him. He stood and took the keys from Gajeel.

"You need to watch out for that one," he grunted, motioning to the cell, "She'll give you a run for your money."

"Eh?" Gajeel cocked a studded eyebrow, "She's in a fucking cage, I think I'll be fine,"

The man rubbed his collar, looking slightly unsettled, "We'll see how you feel in the morning."

And with that he left, the heavy sliding of gears reminding Gajeel that he was being locked in the small room for the next twelve hours. He threw his pack on the ground next to a solitary chair and desk. The fifteen-foot walls had dim lighting every five feet, illuminating the place enough that Gajeel didn't have to squint against the darkness. Metal bars separated him from the small form curled in the corner, laying atop a straw mattress and covered in woolen blankets.

Gajeel snorted.

The other captives barely had a blanket to sleep on let alone a mattress. Why Jose catered to such a goddamn princess he'd never understand.

Gajeel took post at the tiny workstation and munched idly on some of the iron in his pack, taking out a handful of scraps in order to make whatever strange shapes came to mind. The first few hours passed without incident. Occasionally he'd hear the regularly posted guard stroll throughout the cells, yelling at whatever he saw fit to yell at as he made his rounds. Aside from two meals being slid underneath the door for him and the dainty blonde still asleep in her cell, the time dredged quietly, only punctuated by her steady breathing and occasional settling squirms on her mattress.

After probably halfway through his shift, the movement from the cell became too apparent to just be her settling in while she slept.

"Who are you?" her voice broke the silence angrily, making Gajeel grit his teeth at the sudden loud noise. He lifted ruby eyes to meet her brown. Hazelnut irises widened and she cringed away from him ever so slightly. The corner of his mouth crooked slightly at her reaction.

That was something he was used to.

"You… you're a…"

"A Dragon Slayer?" Gajeel's grin spread until his incisors brushed his bottom lip, "How did you guess?"

She fell silent, just sat on her mattress and stared at him. He felt something cruel surging up inside of him, a nagging in the middle of his torso telling him to do something wicked. It was a feeling that hadn't surfaced in quite a while now, incredibly tame compared to how his nature was usually. It was showing now and with a vengeance.

He let his chin rest in his hand and let his eyes wander around the cell, "I wonder how long the Master is going to keep you here… it's been what? Two months?"

She looked startled but quickly masked it. Her golden, tangled locks fell in front of her face slightly, "Something like that…"

"It's a shame, that. If Daddy doesn't fork up the money for ya soon, we'll have to figure out something else to do with you. It probably won't be anywhere close to the Jewels the Heartfilia's could afford, but you cut yer losses where you can."

He could tell her attention was piqued despite the fact that she wouldn't meet his eyes. He could tell by the way her muscles were rigid and the fact that her breathing had stilled just slightly. She was listening very intently; more than earnest to discover what her fate would be if nothing turned in her favor soon.

"Jose think's you're pretty enough. I'm sure we could sell you to some rich politician who's sick of his wife. That's where the last one like you went. But I hear that you're a runner so that may not work out."

That was the reason why she was in the Graveyard. Her spirit couldn't be broken and she'd made several attempts at escape. Being stuck here, however, cut off from anyone who would give her even the tiniest shred of hope that she'd escape had made her become manageable. Around the clock supervision was still needed, and of course the flowery accommodations had been made just in case her father would change his mind and actually pay off Phantom Lord, but as the days passed she had definitely become more docile.

"It may be left to me to decide what happens to you… so you'd better be friendly while you can Princess."

"You? What sway could you possibly have? You've been made a postman just like anyone else!" she scoffed at him from where she sat, her hands balling into fists.

"Consider yerself special then," Gajeel smirked, "But no matter what you say, I have the kind of money and power around here to do whatever the hell I want. And that means deciding what to do with the troublemakers like you."

"I don't understand…" she conceded, finally looking up at him, "Why doesn't my father just pay you and get it over with?"

"I have a feelin' he never had intentions of paying out," those words struck her although it wasn't disbelief that filled her eyes, "Why would he darken the Heartfilia name by making deals with mercenaries?"

"Then why?" the woman yelled, "Why contract to take me in the first place?"

"Well, he thought that maybe the guild that you loved so much cared enough for you that they'd fight to get you back. He probably thought that Fairy Tail would wage war against us and we'd destroy each other… gihi… it's a shame that they don't actually give a damn about what happens to you."

"That's not true…" her voice was smaller, more fragile than before. An entire month in isolation. She was near her breaking point.

"Oh? Then why haven't any of their members come gallivanting in here looking for you? Not even in town? They couldn't even be bothered to send someone out to check on you let alone fight their way to bring you back… and wage an entire guild war?" he snorted, "Unless they're all just a bunch of pussies… which is also true."

"That's not true!"

"The hell it isn't!" he growled, his voice echoing off of the cement walls, "The most hilarious thing about all of this is you, for some stupid reason, still think someone is going to come for you! You're no more special than the trash in those other cells! And just like them, Princess, you're going to be sold off one way or another, if not to your greedy-as-hell father then to the highest bidder in auction!"

Tears were falling down her face now, leaving streaks down her grime-covered face. She clutched her chest as if trying to quell it's erratic rising and falling. He could see the vein on the side of her neck protruding as she clenched her teeth, desperately trying not to break down in front of him.

He'd had his fun. He looked down to the iron that he'd laid out on the table and once again began using his magic to mold and shape it. She didn't move, however, just glared at him silently.

"Natsu will come for me," it was the tiniest whisper, but it grabbed Gajeel's attention nonetheless.

"Eh?"

"Natsu will come for me," her voice was stronger this time, more empowered and claiming a confidence there'd been no trace of just moments before, "He'll come for me, and when he does, he'll burn you and everything you stand for to the ground."

Gajeel's grin widened until it consumed his entire face. Her eyes held his malicious glare firmly as he stood and walked pointedly towards the metal bars.

"You think you're the first person to say shit like that to me, Princess?" he sneered down at her, his eyes not missing the way she flinched from his words, "Do you honestly think any one of your Fairy Tail wizards can fight through an army of seasoned Phantom Lord mages, get through me, and save you?"

Her confidence wavered.

"He'll end up like the rest," Gajeel growled, "dead."

She marched up to the bars where he stood, holding herself as high as she could as she neared him. Her face was inches from his, separated from him by a wall of steel. He could see the tears from before collecting on the brim of her eyelids, fighting to extinguish her fury with cold sorrow.

"You don't scare me," she spat at him, eyes full of derision as she looked up at him. He was about to respond when her scent cascaded over him. Underneath the grime and sweat and stench of her, there was something else. It was the smell of wherever she came from and it rang in his mind with such harkening to something else he was familiar with that a strong feeling of déjà vu overcame his previous desires. Her eyes widened to whatever look came over his face and she quickly backpedaled, but not fast enough. He gripped her wrist and pulled her into the cell bars and she yelps as the unyielding metal collided with her frame. The sound rang out around them.

He took in a deep breath, "What the hell…?"

"Let go of me!" she screamed as loudly as she could, almost deafening his sensitive ears.

"If you insist," he waited until she yanked away from him before he let her loose, not even cracking a smile as she tumbled to the ground. He was too transfixed on whatever was clinging to her skin like the dust that she had gathered during her stay. It was far too familiar in a place where familiarity had no business being.

She was obviously uncomfortable under his glare, not understanding what had triggered him so suddenly. He wrinkled his nose at her, his mind desperately trying to place whatever was so annoyingly clear and yet he couldn't grasp. It was as if he were reaching for something just beyond the iron bars but it was just past the reach of his fingertips. What was it…

The sound of a key sliding into a lock gained his attention and he tilted his head back just slightly as his relief entered. The kid was young, probably only sixteen or seventeen. He didn't meet Gajeel's eyes when he entered. With unsure hands he offered the keys to the hulking Iron Dragon.

"H-here…"

Gajeel swiped the jingling ring from the kid's shaky hands, "Ever done Graveyard shift before, kid?"

The boy shook his head slowly.

"Just don't go near the cage," he grunted, sauntering past to the door, "It'll be a long twelve hours, try your best to not get too bored."

And with that, he slipped out of the door faster than any time he'd left the place in the past and took the stairs two at a time. He didn't know why, but he was suddenly in a frenzy. He had to figure out why Lucy Heartfilia had smelled so familiar. A growing suspicion in the pit of his stomach was telling him he wasn't going to like what he found.