So Much for My Happy Ending - Chapter 11
Author's Note: Soo, no Rocket/Babydoll this chapter, but I did tell you that Vera had to buy them time, didn't I? I didn't think I would enjoy writing her character before I started this, but I have to admit she's certainly grown on me.
He caught her eye immediately as he stormed in, his false veneer of cheer barely covering the seething megalomaniac dying to break free. "Vera, my darling ladies!" He greeted them, a deceitful smile turning up the corners of his thin mustache. "It is good to know, that even in my brief absence, things are running as they should be and everyone is still working very hard at making me money."
The dancers on stage stopped what they had been doing and looked at him, fear evident on their faces.
"No, no, you're fine," he assured them, "Continue whatever it is you're doing, I just need to have a little chat with the…Director here." He grabbed Vera by the arm and roughly pulled her towards the back of the room, pitching his voice lower as he interrogated her.
"Where is she?" He hissed.
"Where is who, Blue? Sweetpea? She escaped, you should know this." Vera responded, playing the fool for as long as she could manage.
"Not…her…" He enunciated his words carefully.
"Oh," Vera continued on, oblivious, "you must be talking about Rocket then, she's been recovering well after the doctors finished with the-"
Her sentence was cut short as Blue's hand shot up closed about her windpipe. She swallowed nervously, her adam's apple grating against the bones in his hand. She remained silent after that display, waiting for his next move.
"I don't want them," he explained, "I want, her. I want my Babydoll."
"She's gone Blue, you sold her away yourself!" She reminded him, wondering if he was delusional.
"You're lying!" He screamed. "She's just not out there!" He waved his free hand toward the doors, indicating the hospital and the real world. "You're going to find her for me, find her and bring her to me." He saw the defiance light up in her eyes. "Or else I'll-"
"You'll what?" She whispered accusingly. "Kill me? And then how will you find her? You are nothing but a coward," she ground out, teeth clenched as she struggled under his grip, "and cowards have no power here."
His eyes widened as he checked the periphery, fearful that she was too confident to not have someone sneaking up on him from behind.
There was no one.
Secure in his position, he let loose a feral grin. "You're wrong. I do whatever I want to here. There's no one coming to rescue you, Vera, you're all…" his fingers cinched tighter around her throat as she began to choke, her vision darkening as a roaring filled her ears, "Mine…"
Vera blinked against the pain.
She was chiefly aware of three things: the first, that it was much colder here than in the theatre, the second, that her outfit was far heavier than it had just been, and, most importantly, she could breath.
She opened her eyes and looked around her.
It was late autumn in the forest. The trees had mostly shed their leaves but a few still remained, stalwart red gold flags contrasting against the stark blackness of the tree trunks. The air contained a hint of frost; she could see it in the misted clouds of her breath.
A twig snapped nearby and her head swiveled to spot the intruder, her hand automatically going to her belt, where her fingers closed around the hilt of a-
Vera looked down at her hand, confused by the sensation of smooth metal under her fingertips. In her palm lay the hilt to a szabla saber, favored blade of the fearsome Hassar soldiers of old, who were the heroes in the stories her grandfather told her when she was a little girl.
Metal plates winked up at her from beneath the saber's sheath. Her armor, a mix of articulating riveted plate and chainmail, was cut the same as the sequined dress she performed on stage with. Her opera gloves had been replaced with sturdy leather gauntlets, a delicate filigree pattern stamped into the surface.
Curious, but she didn't feel awkward in it, just slightly different.
Another noise erupted nearby, and this time she unsheathed the saber and advanced upon it. Shock filled her as she ended up face to face with an enormous stag, the points of his antlers worn bare from fighting.
The two warriors regarded each other for a moment, a mixture of respect and calculated aggression as they determined who could best the other.
The tableau was shattered as the stag broke eye contact and appeared to look past Vera. Something startled the mighty buck, scaring it enough to turn around and flee, the clop of hooves sounded as she watched it bound away, white tail bobbing like a surrender flag.
As the hoofbeats faded away, Vera suddenly realized that an intense, unnatural quiet had settled over the forest, not even birdsong could be heard.
A menacing growl echoed through the clearing, filling her veins with ice.
She turned around slowly, her boots crushing the leaf litter. A huge wolf stood before her, yellow fangs bared, ears pinned back as it snarled. It advanced on her, one massive paw in front of the other, the rumbling noise emitting from its throat growing louder with each step. It eyed her, its prey, brown eyes calculating and, seemingly, familiar.
Vera drew her sword up into the ready position, fingers clutching the hilt in a death grip underneath the hand guard, her desperately tight hold on the sword the only thing keeping her limbs from quaking in fear.
With a final snarl, the beast pounced, hindquarters bunching as it leapt. In an instant the huge, fur covered mass of muscle and sinew was airborne, jaws opened wide as a mouth full of daggers flew straight for her throat.
She could feel time slow as her senses went on high alert, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the faint breeze as it rifled through her hair. All the while she was tracking his movements, the apex of his jump, the precious few seconds of descent before he hit her, a wall of fanged death.
Some long dormant instinct arose, and she felt her muscles begin to move before she could even think about what she was doing.
Felt her legs shift into a deeper stance as she absorbed the full impact of the blow. Her saber skittered across the wolf's razored maw, deflecting the bite as the blade sunk into its heavy ruff. She pressed forward, trying with all her might to cut past the dense outer coat and into the thick muscles and arteries of the beast's neck.
Sensing her plan, the wolf shifted its attack, jerking its head to the side and evading the keen edge of the saber. Vera was caught by surprise. She let out a yell of pain and almost dropped her saber as she felt the jaws close on her arm, barbed points piercing the heavy leather of her gauntlets.
The wolf pressed its advantage, growling at her as it bit down harder, trying to neutralize her defenses long enough to get a shot at her exposed throat. It was so close it could almost taste the lifeblood as it surged under her skin.
Another moment and the pain was too much, Vera lost her grip on the hilt, watching it slip through the fingers of her sword arm. It fell, the fine honed edge twirling as it dropped to the ground.
She sensed more than saw the blade fall into her other hand, one last surge of desperation as she hooked her fist around and slammed the pommel into the beast's sensitive eye. It snorted in surprise and released her for a split second, which was all the time she needed.
Seizing the moment, she whipped the blade around and slashed it across the brute's throat. Not trusting things to chance, she followed up with another stroke of the saber, this time forcing the edge into the tough flesh. She bore down until slick rivulets of blood began to seep through the matted fur. Even then she held firm, straining her muscles as sweat beaded on her brow, condensing and trickling into her eye.
She blinked away the moisture.
And found her hands locked around Blue's stranglehold, her nails an odd shade of red as they dug into his flesh, blood beginning to ooze out beneath them.
His face was contorted into a snarl of agony and surprise as her fingers drilled deeper. The world was still dark at the edges, and she knew she was out of time. One hope left, a move that would either free her, or end her. She surged forward, the edge of his hand crushing into her windpipe as she slammed an elbow into the side of his head.
It worked.
She gasped as air filled her lungs. Blue was hunched over for the moment, holding his head in a mild daze. She breathed deeply; the feel of oxygen flooding into her system was heady, almost intoxicating.
It was intoxicating enough that she didn't think too hard about pressing her advantage, gripping both his shoulders to use for leverage as she smashed her knee into his groin. He dropped to the floor like the useless dead weight that he was.
She stood over him as he curled up into a ball on the floor, making piteous mewling noises and trying to protect his face, the backs of his hands covered in rusty smudges.
"You are a coward." She repeated. "I have no purpose for cowards," His hand snaked out to paw at the point of her shoe; she kicked it away in disgust, "and we do not keep things here that have…no purpose."
She turned and walked away, ears cocked for the verbal jab that would surely follow, her frame girded for the last desperate attack of a cornered wolf.
It never came.
She turned in surprise, seeing only the final swing of the main doors before they shut and remained motionless, an air of finality about them.
She blinked.
Dr. Vera Gorski stood before her patients and staff in the theater. She paused a moment, fishing a cleaning cloth out of a breast pocket and polishing the lenses of her glasses before seating them on the bridge of her nose.
"I'm going to start your music now." She nodded at Leonard, an earnest looking student intern from the local university, to continue. He flipped the play switch on the tape reel, and the patient seated on stage took on a slightly dreamy look as the melody filled the room. "You're safe. It's all safe. Now relax and just let go."
She hoped she had bought the girls enough time to escape.