Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Bakuten. --;
Author's Notes: Okay. This chapter is going to be short. It's about Jo, her surroundings, and a meeting with her captor.
NOTE- rated PG-13 for minor gross details.
Pain was the first thing that screamed in her mind when Jo awoke. She didn't open her eyes, not until the burning sensation beneath her skin subsided. At long last, her crimson eyes opened, blinking until they adjusted to the darkness.
And what came into view horrified her.
Hanging from the ceiling from prodigious hooks were bodies. Some had a leg or arm cut off, replaced with a metal limb; few were cyborgs. And even though they seemed it, Jo somehow knew they weren't dead, even though none moved and a few swayed like lifeless dolls.
And that's when she realized that she was among them, hanging from the ceiling. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the rope that held them bonded behind her back. The thick, leather straps that were wrapped around her chest area sent more pain up through her spin, feeling the hook's edge against her back, where it was holding her up from a metal circle that was attached to the leather.
She also realized that she had been stripped of her guns and communication devices. She swore-
-or tried too. The gag in her mouth prevented her from making any sound at all. Except grunts.
So, she swore mentally. Her eyes decided to sweep the floor, which was covered with wires. Thick wires, thin wire, short and long, they were all there, leading up to a huge computer monitor with smaller control panels in front of it.
And a cloaked figure, a cool, baritone voice emerging from beneath the hood.
"Good morning, dearie. I was wondering when you were going to awaken." Two silver eyes gleamed from beneath the hood.
He pressed a button, which caused Jo's hook to move forward, toward him. Then it lowered her to his eye level.
"You were very difficult to capture. Almost got away. But, so sad, you didn't." A smile curled on his lips, even though she couldn't see it.
"Your yellow-clad friend tried to stop me. Easily took her out." A growl rose into Jo's throat, eyes narrow, glaring, hating-no, loathing him. "Don't worry. She only has three broken ribs, and a sore back." His smile faded.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here. But, even if you aren't, I'll tell you." Truthfully, she was wondering why he captured her. Why she was among all those bodies on the hooks dangling from the ceiling. "Because you are the perfect gunslinger. And you are my next masterpiece.
Jo growled again, but he turned, walking out of the room.
"Unless, of course, your friends care enough to get you." And then he was gone.