**Hey everyone! I just wanted to give a shout out to anyone who's been checking out Unhinged lately, to say thank you for viewing. I've still got some ideas I'd like to dabble in before I edge into the closing events for this story, so there will be plenty of chapters coming up. If you're enjoying this story please feel free to leave me a review. Suggestions for scenarios are also currently welcome if you'd like to make any, though will close once I'm getting closer to the end events. Thanks again, and hang onto your hats 'cause things will be getting interesting for our deadly duo~**
Whistling echoed ominously through the bridge tunnel on this fateful night. The walls were dampened from several days of rain. Foot steps splashed faintly against the small, random puddles in the concrete ground. A gloved and bloodied hand reached, trailing crimson against the pale bridge walls, etching in a sloppy painting of a sinister, smiling face. A grin crept onto Jerome's lips as he turned to glance at the two followers he'd brought along with him for his most recent task. There was nothing he relished more than witnessing his victims in utter agony. In recent days, he had gotten a bit side tracked with a task that ended up more drawn out than he would have preferred. It had to do with one of their suppliers screwing around and trying to make things difficult for the firey-haired psychopath. Things just never could be easy, it seemed, and Jerome mused that fact. It ended with a rather messy fight between the supplier, plus their trusty little guard dogs. Jerome had come out on top, mostly unscathed at that.
"You two have done well," Jerome acknowledged, tilting his head up a little to the followers before him. "Now that all of this mumbo-jumbo has been taken care of, you've earned yourselves a short vacation, hmm?" A tilt of his head, to which the followers grinned and nodded in agreement. "Good. Well, get out of my sight then," Jerome snapped, the followers growing rigid, flicking their eyes to one another and then scampering off back down the tunnel, enveloped into darkness as they cackled madly. A deep cackle moved from his lips as he watched the two hurry off into the night. It had been a few days since he'd heard from or seen Amelia, thus he turned on his heel and ventured towards her abode.
Once Jerome had reached Amelia's door, he gave a swift knock with two knuckles, waited around one second and then was peering inside. "Peek-a-boo..." It was odd that Amelia would leave her door unlocked, thus he'd ventured into the apartment with his knife in his palm, eyes flicking around. Nothing really seemed to out of the ordinary... except it was strangely silent. Usually, upon entering Jerome might hear music playing, Amelia chanting or murmuring to her self as she often did... It was dead silent. Jerome prowled quietly around the whole of the apartment, to which he found no one... Which was concerning. Swiftly, he flipped out his cell and tried dialing her. On the other end, her phone was dead and immediately went to voicemail. Jerome glanced at his phone for a moment, blinking and furrowing his brows. A knock at the door caught his attention, and then he heard it push open. Jerome hid from where he currently was in Amelia's bedroom, glancing slowly over to listen to who it might be. A grin was twitching onto his lips as he anticipated getting to toy with some more victims.
"Amelia...?" A female's voice called as they proceeded through the living room. A second pair of feet followed after the first then, and Jerome quirked a brow.
"Where do you think she could have gone?" Holly asked to Laura.
"Hold on a second," Laura motioned for Holly to pause, her dark eyes peering around. "Something doesn't seem right..." she narrowed her eyes as she moved, slowly, towards the bedroom now, taking a kitchen knife from the counter quietly as she did so.
"Ha!" Jerome shifted from his hiding spot, to which the two witches gasped in slight shock.
"Jesus," Laura emitted. "You are far creepier in person, dude..." she breathed, patting her chest where her heart was racing. Jerome quirked a brow, glancing from Laura to Holly, and then back again.
"Ah... well this is awkward," Jerome murmured, knife still in hand.
"What have you done with Amelia?" Holly demanded, stepping forth, moving between Laura and Jerome. Laura looked to her sister in disapproval.
"Let me deal with him, Holly," Laura insisted to her blonde haired sister.
"Well?" Holly stepped closer to Jerome then, who had merely snickered. "Why is he laughing...?" Holly quipped to Laura, with an odd expression, her hazel eyes not leaving Jerome.
"Done with her?" Jerome cackled. "The only reason I came here was because I was looking for your sinister little sister..." he clarified, putting his hands up. Laura noted the blood stains on his hands and then stepped beside Holly to get closer to Jerome.
"Yeah? And what's all that mess about?" Laura asked, pointing to his gloves.
"This? Well, I am a busy guy... but I assure you, I would never lay a hand on my dear, little Amelia..." Jerome drawled slowly, grinning a bit.
Holly and Laura glanced at each other in unison. It was difficult to tell if he was lying, even for two intuitive witches. Amelia was the most in-tune of the three.
Laura held her blade close to Jerome, though she faltered. "We know you and Amelia have been working together," she sent on, admittedly a little intimidated by Jerome, though hid it decently. The taller, blonde and curly haired sister, Holly, seemed more obviously off put. It reminded Jerome of the time he'd gone to kill her boyfriend a while back and he almost laughed aloud at the memory. Those had been good times... She hadn't mentioned this yet however, and Jerome assumed she'd realized by now how foolish she had been back then. "But that isn't to say you wouldn't kill her yourself. You're... unpredictable," Laura's brown eyes burned into the maniac's from behind her dark bangs.
Jerome cackled a little as her blade was placed closer to his neck. "Kill Amelia? Her and I are best buds, compadres... I wouldn't dare do such a vile thing..." his voice was low, his eyes sinister and mocking, though he was only toying with the sisters, of course.
"Holly, look inside of your crystal ball to figure out if he's telling the truth. Have it show you Amelia," Laura instructed to her sister hastily. Holly obliged, fetching the ball from the bedroom closet and setting it on a night stand near the other two. Jerome's eyes turned to look curiously over as Holly motioned her hands over the ball, craning his neck a little to see what the image would show.
"Oh my God," Holly gasped, a hand clasped over her mouth at the image that emerged. Amelia was knocked out and bound to a vertically-placed metal table, her wrists and feet bound and a muzzle over her mouth. Hazel, tear-rimmed eyes flicked to Jerome. "What did you do?!"
Jerome however was peering wide eyed at the orb, all sounds around him drowned out as rage boiled over within him in a way he had never experienced. He moved abruptly from Laura's hold on him to peer at the orb in sheer incredulity and rage. "Tell me... there is a way to find out who is behind this," Jerome's eyes were wild as he pointed to the orb, and then his eyes squeezed shut as a jarring amount of anger threatened to explode out of him. He could not allow it, there wasn't much time it seemed... they needed to figure out what had happened to her.
Holly wiped her eyes, looking to Laura then. Laura glanced from the orb and to Jerome. Hand shaking, she placed her blade away when she clearly sensed the sincerity in Jerome's anger. Laura didn't know how to feel about it, but she sensed that Jerome loved Amelia. It would explain how his jestful demeanor and entirely shifted.
"We have to try," Laura sent on to Holly, who looked utterly conflicted as she peered at Jerome, who was clutching at his hair, trying his best to keep calm. "He's obviously effected by this, he isn't faking," Laura said quietly to her sister as she leaned closer. Laura took a seat then near the orb and proceeded to chant with Holly. Jerome drifted over, chewing uneasily at the skin of his thumb as he watched to see what might appear in the orb.
Soon, a figure came into view in the scene, Jerome leaning closer. "Who the hell are you?" he growled viciously, hands clutching at the orb as he gazed into it with wide eyes.
-Meanwhile-
Everything came in a blur. Amelia's head was spinning momentarily, and she blinked slowly as her vision proceeded to clear gradually. The room she was in was unfamiliar and she tried to move, though couldn't. Thrashing a bit, she struggled against the bindings at her wrists and ankles. Then she thrashed harder, and tried to scream though the sound was muffled. Amelia struggled and struggled, thrashing violently, until the bindings cut into her skin. Growling and thrashing, she tried a moment longer before the pain and defeat got the better of her. She halted, slumping a bit as she tried to catch her breath. "Who ever has done this is going to feel my wrath," she hissed against the annoying muzzle at her mouth.
"I see you're finally awake. For being so 'dangerous', you were surprisingly easy to steal," a figure emerged into the room she was in; which looked to be a barren basement. To Amelia's frustration, the figure was wearing a stitched together black mask and a black hoody. Amelia shouted something unintelligible. The figure moved a hand, shifting her muzzle off to hear what she might have to say. He knew he was safe as long as Amelia couldn't see his face, which pissed her off entirely.
"Who the hell are you?! I swear I will rip your heart out!"
The figure snickered. "Just as feisty as ever..." he murmured. Amelia stared at him, green eyes wide and full to the brim firey wrath. The words he spoke however indicated that he knew her somehow.
"What the fuck do you want," Amelia demanded, tone deepening into a bitter and sinister growl.
The figure paced a little in front of her. "You could say... that it is high time we burn the witch..." he said, looking at her now.
Amelia glared bitterly at him, though realized she knew that voice...
"But first, I had to ensure that you had no tools nor a face at your disposal to cast any of those pesky little spells on. I plan on relishing every moment of breaking down your psyche to render you utterly helpless..." he went on, Amelia's eyes flicking venomously over him to observe him. He moved then, inching closely to drag a blade he wielded across her forearm before driving it into her. Amelia wailed, squeezing her eyes shut. Her mind was bombarded with nothing but this piercing pain now, and she wondered faintly how Jerome did it... how was he able to laugh like a madman when someone harmed him? She really could use that skill now, seeing as she might need it.
"Don't worry, that's only the start," the masked figure assured to her as he pulled away now, leaving the blade pinning her arm to the table. Amelia moved to try and bite her way through that stupid mask, to which he merely shifted away and chuckled. "I know exactly how to damage you, just you wait..."
Amelia winced a bit at the stabbing pain in her arm. Though the chuckle that moved from this damned man was familiar to her. Everything made sense, when she realized she knew who this was. Amelia glared bitterly at him. "All this trouble... for a piece of shit brother like yours?" It was Eric, her ex's elder brother... she supposed she should have anticipated his pathetic family might go after her eventually. It was stupid, how they sided with a manipulator and rapist. "I guess this means that the shit he did and the pain he caused all look like child's play, next to the one who tore him to pieces... huh?" Amelia taunted, remorseless green eyes glaring deep into Eric's eyes.
"Always quick to put the pieces together," Eric acknowledged, though sent his fist flying into Amelia's face the next moment. Amelia allowed that pain to rattle her and then slowly fade. She tried to trick her mind into relishing or at least tolerate it, so that he could not get to her as easily. He was moving to hit her again, before the door to the basement opened and one of his masked companions motioned for him to come upstairs. "Let's finish this soon," Eric sent on, placed her muzzle back onto her, and disappeared up the rickety basement steps.
-Back at Amelia's apartment-
Jerome had had enough of watching that all pan out. The image in the orb fell away as he turned to punch his fist hard against the wall. "So they decided to be wise guys and hide behind masks like a bunch of cowards?" Valeska spat through clenched teeth. Laura and Holly seemed just as defeated and were disappointed in themselves in fact. Despite Amelia's loyalty to a lunatic, she was still their sister and they had turned their backs on her... "It's ironic, isn't it?" Jerome turned to the tense looking sisters then. "You know, how you two ditch your sister and decide to come crawling back, just in time for this load of shit to happen."
"Shut up," Laura got in his face then, anger bursting out of her at having such things shoved in her face.
Jerome cackled, though it died away in an instant and was replaced again by that look of sheer fury.
"Guys!" Holly interjected. "This seriously is not the time to be fighting, okay? We need to figure out a way to get to Amelia, and the best way to do that is together."
"And how the hell are supposed to do that, when we've got no idea where Amelia is?!" Laura countered, and then huffed.
"I realize we're all frustrated and panicked right now, but if we calm down, I'm sure we can think up a spell that will help," Holly offer, shakily though was still hopeful.
-Meanwhile-
Eyes drifted shut as Amelia watched the door shut, ensuring that snake Eric had left. A sigh moved past her, her dark tufts of short hair falling around her face as she slumped. Amelia's mind drifted back over the argument that ensued previously, carefully tracing over each word that had been spoken. There had to be some sort of loop hole... Her mind also drifted to her sisters, to Jerome... Though she refused to think that this was the end of the line for her. Amelia did not want to die. She wanted to live and to sow chaos as she saw fit, and when she was done, perhaps her own legacy would remain.
Amelia recalled Eric's mention of breaking her mentality. It occurred to her then that he didn't have a chance to just yet, and then an image came into her head; that of the smokey ghoulish spirit that paid her a visit back at Arkham... It clicked then, and she realized how she would, hopefully, get out of this predicament.