She should run away.
Running away was an option she wished she had. It only took a few seconds of standing in the dark, long corridor for her to realize that trying to make her way out of this maze was probably not the smartest idea. Not when she still winced when she put weight on her ankles and her bones cracked with every new movement. Instead, she sat back on the small cot she'd been provided, watching out the open door for a change in the shadows and listening to the whirring of machinery. The small amount of light that came from the lanterns outside her door cast long shadows into her space, her fingers reaching out to touch them as if they were a lost friend.
After what must have been hours, the flickering darkness became more substantial with the loud slam of the iron door, her shadowed companions growing to fill the room before they were whisked away with the crackling of the light above. Elena didn't even have to look up to know that she was no longer alone, nor who had joined her, because the familiar melodic voice of her captor struck through the air like lightning.
"What the hell is wrong with you? That door was closed for a reason, kid."
"I'm not a kid."
Her voice was quiet, strangled still from misuse as she replied.
"You haven't any idea what is out there, or who might be watching, and you just left the fucking door open?"
"Why does it matter? You left the fucking door unlocked. You're a pretty shitty kidnapper."
The screech of metal against concrete brought her upright, the pain of her palms making contact with her ears far more bearable than that of her ears ringing. When she finally looked up, she was met with the image of her captor settling down into an iron chair in front of her, pulling his gloves off with his teeth before holding rough palms out towards her.
"Hands, c'mon, I don't have all day."
"Excuse me?'
He didn't seem to have any patience for her, reaching down to grab her wrist and pull her arm towards him until her hand sat against his knee. Elena winced at the sudden movement, earning the smallest turn of his head towards her as she hissed through her teeth, but nothing more as he went about his work. The silence was a little too much for her to bear, feeling her temper flare with each passing moment that the man in front of her ignored her in favor of unwrapping her bandages.
"This is the weirdest kidnapping I've ever heard of."
The man sighed, the softness of sound almost startling alongside his harsh exterior.
"I didn't kidnap you, pup, I saved your life."
"Pup?"
"Why are you here, really?"
Elena wasn't sure what he wanted to hear from her, watching his hair fall over his face as he worked on slowly peeling her bandaged away from the wounds on her palm. She realized he was without the wide brimmed hat and glasses she'd seen him in before, the glasses folded shut and hanging from the neck of a worn waffle-weave shirt, its long sleeves bunched around his elbows and the buttons undone. Light gray eyes peered out from underneath a furrowed brow, his lip curling as the last bit of bandage stuck to the dried blood on her palms. His grip on her wrist was firm, muscles in his exposed forearms flexing as he held her still. She didn't seem to have a choice but to answer his questions.
"...I'm taking a trip across Europe to learn about the local legends and myths so that I could properly write my thesis on how they reflect and influence culture. I wasn't lying when I said we had to detour into town, we were just-"
"In the wrong place, that's for damn sure. Well, that explains all the fucking childrens books you've got stuffed into that suitcase of yours." He interrupted, a smile pulling on the edges of otherwise tight lips.
"You went through my things?"
"Would you rather me have left it outside for the mutts to get into?"
"You have like, a thing for dogs, don't you?"
She didn't expect the rumbling laugh that came from him, his fingers going lax around her palm as she jerked back at the sudden sound. It echoed through the room as he pulled a flask and a roll of withering gauze from his pocket, reaching out to grab her arm once again as he tugged it back into his lap. Elena winced at the movement, turning her gaze upward when he stilled at her sharp hiss of breath. Her eyelids fluttered, still unaccustomed to the cold light that now filled the room, dark eyes struggling to focus on the man that stared down at her. He huffed another laugh, lifting the bottle to his teeth and twisting the cap off quickly, the discarded bit of plastic clattering across the floor as it dropped between them.
Elena watched the motion carefully, her brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of this man in front of her. She hadn't realized that she wasn't breathing until he addressed her, wiping the line of liquid that had spilled down his chin as he drank from the metal flask on his sleeve before holding it towards her. He smiled as he spoke, and the expression sent a fresh bout of unease through her blood.
"What's your name?"
"Why?"
"Well, we were never properly introduced, and I believed I promised you an introduction."
Right, their banter through the television, another mystery to add to the list.
"I asked first."
He snorted, shoving the bottle further towards her, brow raised until she reluctantly took it between her still wrapped, still unoccupied fingers. She waited for his answer before taking a drink, watching him over the flask at she raised it to her lips.
"Heisenberg, Karl Heisenberg."
Sputtering around the liquor, she tried to breath around the burn in her throat, sending him what she hoped was a chilling glare when his grin grew wider. Vodka, she decided, instantly settled into her bloodstream with nothing in her stomach to soak it up, weighing down her limbs and numbing the throbbing aches that spanned across her skin. She held the flask back out to him, fingers twitching they were brushed by his own before falling back to rest against her now lead-like legs. Deciding with a now slowly clouding mind to delay giving him too much information, she instead decided to mimic the tone of their earlier conversation.
"You speak English."
"If you've just now noticed that, you might have a concussion after all."
"No, it's just… surprising, in a small village like this. You'd expect a local dialect."
"We all speak English here."
"You sound like one of those old Hollywood movies."
Again, he laughed.
"Your tolerance is a lot lower than I expected, pup."
"So getting me drunk wasn't the plan, then."
His smile faltered, the entertained glint in his eyes dying as he moved her hand to sit between his knees, tightening his grip on her.
"No, that drink was just to make this a little less unpleasant."
"Make what le- Mother fucker!"
Elena continued to curse as Heisenberg poured the liquor over her wounds, holding her wrist in a vice as she pulled against him to get away from the sting. She gave up fighting as the liquor dried, the pain dulling into a throb that echoed beneath the clean bandages he wrapped around her palms. Retracting her hand to curl it against her chest as soon as he'd let her go, Elena hesitated as he held out his palm for the other, wondering where his sudden concern for consent had come from.
"Are you going to tell me your name or do I have to look through your stuff again for a passport?"
She realized she'd been staring at the calloused skin of his palm, her brow furrowed as her liquor blurred mind attempted to make sense of him through the painful whiplash his mood swings were giving her. The shifting of his boots snapped her attention back up to him, her voice softer than the biting sarcasm she'd upheld with him so far.
"It's Elena."
"Do you have a last name?"
His fingers were gentler now as they pulled the bloodied gauze away from her skin, gray eyes flicking up to watch as her own moved across his features.
"It's Zielinski. It's-"
"Polish, I know."
This time when he soaked her skin in liquor, she barely flinched, her nerves as dulled by the alcohol as her inhibitions were as she analyzed the man that sat before her. His hair was sandy, streaked with gray and falling into his face in twisted greasy strands with every movement. He still had that eerie almost-vintage quality, the subject of an old war photograph sitting in front of her, dog tags and all. It was sick that he was almost handsome in the harsh light that groaned above them, the hum of electricity filling the room as the last echo of their conversation died. He almost seemed normal as hunched over, twisting her limp fingers and wound fresh bandages around them. Elena became aware that she was swaying, leaning into him as he dropped her hand and sat back in the chair he'd pulled up to her, arms crossed over his chest.
"So, what the hell am I going to do with you, Elena Zielinski?"
She didn't have time to answer, even if her reactions hadn't been inhibited. Her name had barely left his lips when a shrill tone of a telephone broke through the quiet hum that was ever present beyond the walls of her makeshift cell. Heisenberg cursed, his chair falling to the floor with a clatter as he stood suddenly, gone as unceremoniously as he'd appeared with nothing more than an absent minded call as the door slammed shut behind him.
"Don't move, kid! This call may be for you."
