Alright guys, I decided to continue the story line in a more suitable and angst-y route. It's going to get dark y'all. Trust me. So click your seat belts because it's going to become a bumpy ride.

Also, those of who read an earlier form of chapter 10, this one is an extended edited version.

Anyway, happy reading! Love, Locke.

Erza scanned the ghastly silent room and noticed the once empty spots by the corridor filled by his menacing guards. They were patiently waiting to strike whenever their master willed it. Erza tiredly looked at her warden, pausing in her buzzing thoughts and took a peek at the nearby pile of white cloth in its sad, disheveled state.

"Your temper was quite a sight to behold," His back turned but the words seamlessly cut into the air. The man had been contemplating her demeanor as if she was some spoiled, unruly, and un-able to be contained child. The side of his face angling just enough so that the green of his eye was visible from behind. He stood there; the beautiful spectrum of mosaics of their surroundings seemingly matched his graceful presence, even though daylight struggled to coat every corner of the chamber area. "Comparable to that of the dragon boy. But I suppose you've gotten better now."

"I think my temper is understandable, be it you, Natsu, or anyone else filling the gaps in my shoes." She retorted, nearing the hauntingly still figure with essentially no fear in her bones. She crossed her arms underneath her sizable chest and looked away. "It's quite understandable regarding everything you've done."

"And what have I done, may I ask?" His body respectfully turned towards the nappy haired woman and canted his head, with heavy conviction in his tone of word. He knew he did a lot. A lot of bad things, but he was curious as to how she would speak her mind. He smiled and was half-expectant of another rant to bellow out from the woman's mouth before adding on. "I mean—this is all ultimately your intentions. Is it not?"

"I didn't expect this." She murmured softly. "No one would have expected this." She finished off, doubt and uncertainty was a common recurrence in the aggrieved woman's mind.

Jellal sighed, it was obvious that he had enough of her antics and she his own. He had his next sentence on hold and offered a few signal glances to each of the guards stationed around the room's fortifications, and they all disappeared within half a breath. For a man who loved to have subordinates, he often loved his own privacy. But this was a special occasion on its own, as always for the most interesting woman in the world.

"You look beautiful."

And it was true. This woman had clearly won the genetic lottery by all means. His eyes roved her entirety and noticed how her skin still shined in the dimmest of lights, how her makeup-less face outmatched any artificial mask in the world, how her almost wavy flaming red locks gracefully cascaded around her breathing form, and how the dress faultlessly complimented her body's curves underneath its loose white folds. This woman was always beautifully striking in his eyes. But the fact that she chose to wear the dress made him desire her all the more.

He was before the woman in a matter of seconds, never failing to startle her out of her senses. His agonizingly hot fingers brushed down to cup her cheek, inevitably grabbing her full attention as the hand travelled the soft turn of her shoulder and down the curvature of her spine. The fabric of the dress was soft and refined under his fingertips.

That wry smile was all that Erza could notice when he had addressed her. "Have you decided to wear the dress to gain my sympathy and favor perchance?"

"No…" She paused, her face heating like a boiler. "I did it because I had nothing else decent to wear." After all she had been wearing something very similar to rags.

He laughed softly, amused. "Does that mean you like what I've chosen for you?"

"It means nothing." She retorted without hesitation. Wisps of heat were still in freckled bits on her cheeks, her eyes motioned in another direction whereas her hands rested flatly against his chest, in a defensive position.

He wanted to admire the statuesque body of hers a few more moments before letting his lovely maiden go. "Very well." He detected her satisfaction however, no matter how persistently obvious her denial of it was.

Jellal had instructed to begin her meal, as the food was quickly becoming cold. A short distance from her rectangular end of the dining table, her eyes swam over the mouthwatering food and stopped just when her eyes reached his hands as they had prepped a glass bottle of alcohol. She glanced upwards and caught him glaring back down at her with that satisfied smirk of his.

It was so irritating. But she was so damn hungry.

…

She gently wrapped her fingers around the fragile glass stem holding the liquid. She swished the white substance around in a circle and eyed its movements, so that she wouldn't have to look into Jellal's eyes. There was a mark on her neck, about the size of a coin. It was just under her jaw and revealed itself in swirling colors of blue, purple, and yellow. She wanted to hide it but what purpose would there be? When the only person who was going to see was the one who purposefully sucked the soul out of her body.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that there hadn't been much alcohol in her diet for quite a few months. Just a few swigs and off the deep end she went. She took another sip and relished in the taste.

Was he trying to intoxicate her this time?

Even if he did try to take advantage of her, he did have the woman's entire existence at his full disposal. It was painfully clear what his intentions were, so why not make the most of it? Why not enjoy a luxury as it is?

The more she thought about it, the more she was given relatively extravagant food, shelter, and clothing from a ground state of imprisonment, the more she realized that they were doing nothing but keeping her from becoming alienated from Jellal. In fact, it was like he had been forcefully trying to implant a dependence within her. It was as if he were trying to invoke a Stockholm syndrome within their relationship all in order for her to swear allegiance to him.

And for what purpose?

What was all of this for?

The woman cursed under her breath. All of her problems would be solved if she had even an ounce of magic to spare. Erza regrettably carried no weapons around; she thought they were too much weight and a waste of time to hold on to. Reequip magic allowed the knight to temporarily carry weapons or armor for the duration of the battle and store it back into "slots" once she desired it so. And from what Erza can deduce, there was no battle before the time at which she was abducted, so it was impossible for her to carry around any deadly objects during her stay here, much less summon one with the nonexistent magic she already had.

Though she had these thoughts many, many, times throughout the day, or what she considered the day, she kept coming to end of the same, unfavorable conclusion: she wasn't strong enough. Even if she did luckily come across a weapon to use against Jellal, what good would it do for her? A simple, hand-crafted knife? He'd only laugh at her. He knew how to put up a good fight, and she knew he could destroy her, even without the use of his insanely powerful magic.

Erza didn't know what to do, say, or even think—this situation had her stuffing in her own breaths. And it was better this way because one wrong word and she could possibly have a knife at her throat.

Wait… wait…

Nervously she began padding herself in different clothed areas simultaneously.

Speaking of knives…

Something deep, heavy, and difficult to swallow was building up in her throat the more she realized what she wanted to be on her body clearly wasn't going to be there. She left her makeshift weapon back in the washroom.

How…

How stupid could she really be!? What if they found it? If they did, it would drop her chances of ever escaping to a bare zero percent. Inwardly she panicked, but persisted with all her might to maintain composure.

Jellal was staring at her skeptically before the woman realized what she'd been doing with her hands. A silver coated fork was suspended in his hand under his intense scrutiny of the woman. Awkwardly, she fumed with the most innocent voice she could muster. "Ahh—I... I just wanted to see if the dress fit me right. That's all."

There was the lightest upturn of his lip. "I thought you said you didn't care for it, my little dove?" His eyes continued to stare at her from across the seabed of food carefully arranged on the table.

"Well I—" Erza started, trying her damned best not to blow her cover. "Still respect a gift be it friend or foe."

His dark green eyes flickered under a small sliver of light as he continued to inspect her carefully.

He was always a watchful one.

Nevertheless, he accepted the excuse and continued to consume his meal, as it had been a cue for Erza to continue hers as well. She made sure she wasn't making any questionable movements as she thought about where she could have possibly left the weapon. She cut her meat into small slivers and chewed each one politely.

Was it on the dresser? Was it on the floor, somewhere inside the bathroom?

She couldn't have left it in her cell because she was sure she brought it with while following her guard. It had to be in the bathroom somewhere. Most logically it would be in the pile of old clothes she had left near the bathtub.

Mentally berating herself, she took another sip of Champagne.

Not even Mavis could fix my level of stupidity, she thought.

She continued with a change of subject and spoke to the man neatly slicing through his arranged fish fillet. "You know you really didn't answer my question."

"About?" He replied calmly after finishing a well-mannered bite and wipe, watching his fish fillet as if it were about to flop off of his plate and dive back into the ocean.

"About the purpose of everything that's going on." She abruptly shot out of her seat and slammed her fists against the table linen, much aggravation ringing in her voice. She really didn't care if the white lace of her attire sadly collided with the open sea of food on the table. "Why did you bring me here? What's the real reason?"

"You'll know soon enough." That was the best answer he could give and the worst possible explanation in her eyes. "And finish your food. Everything here was cooked to perfection, so why not show some kindness to those that prepared it for us?"

"Yeah?" She challenged him, "What if I don't?"

His smoky green eyes shot her another piercing glare, clearly he'd given up on trying to lighten the mood between them. "You know what'll happen if you don't finish your meal."

She cleared her throat. Okay. Maybe she didn't want to get backhanded again.

This was now her fourth glass, letting the taste sit on the center of her tongue for a few moments. It burned with an after wave of sweetness, and then the carbonation once again burned the length of her throat.

This was delicious.

It was like the taste increased every time she poured more in.

She took another mouthful and swallowed. Another. And another.

Was he trying to sway her in with food and affection?

Was he going to take her for the first time tonight?

Is that what this is all for?

He was definitely planning something tonight.

Her heart beat was frantic and vigorously pumped blood into her cheeks. She wasn't sure if it was the constant induction of alcohol or her hormones that caused her to get so hot and giddy inside. She forced herself to sudden halt, staring at her palms to give herself composure from this horrid intoxication. The lines that contoured her skin that were once in detail from her perspective now blended into the pink matte of her color, and she figured that she was now beginning to lose focus.

A violent temptation was pulling her in again. She wanted literally wanted to pull the table cloth from right under the entire collection of delicacies.

Would all the china plates shatter against the stone tiles?

Would all the champagne splatter and seep into the cracks to be never tasted again?

Everything would be such a mess… how would Jellal react to it?

She looked up at Jellal who was eyeing her curiously again. She wasn't at the point where she could go on a rampage, but just looking at that face—was enough to make anyone mad. She took another bite of carefully sliced meat, chewing softly, the rich texture and seasoning melted on her tongue—a much softer experience on her taste buds in contrast to the champagne.

A gush of furious air blew through her nostrils and she continued to consume her own meal. If she were a younger girl, the entirety of this situation would've blown her mind right of the water. She was having a dinner date with the man she loved and was actually living with him—though not in specific terms. He told her he loved her every day and showered her with compassion and touches.

But this was reality…

This is not a happy ending that a little girl could possibly dream of.

She was being used for lesser purposes.

She was a hostage.

"So tell me, Erza, how have you been these past few days? Made any new friends with my men? I hope that they've been friendly with you." He asked amid the silence, his chin resting on his hand. He offered her his absolute attention. She chewed for a bit and swallowed the remnants of the meat in her mouth. "My dearest needs the care and respect she deserves in this tower."

"Nah. I haven't and I'm not going to."

"Oh come now, don't be that way." He cooed, the tattoo on his cheek shifted over his dimming smile. He called the name of a guard that so happened to be the one that was closely watching over Erza while Jellal'd been gone festering in his activities. It was the guard with the dark brown eyes and hair. The one that hated her because of who she was. What did he call him? Mar… Marco or something?

Her eyes followed up his body and lasted on his face, with much resent flowing in her eyes as they were for Jellal. His own enriched, twin brown eyes stared down at her with as much hate and disgust. He looked awfully rugged and disorganized to be a guard that Jellal once employed in the past. She could sense a dark magic emanating from his body—something she could rarely feel from her own body nowadays—and paused.

It was dark magic.

Was he a dark guild member?

Now that she thought about it more, all the guards felt like they had some kind of deeper magic coming out of them.

Where had Jellal gotten these men from?

Nothing made sense.

…

Last time Juvia saved them from contamination. But now, he had immediate skin to water contact and found himself struggling to find the sailor's ship. He mentally slammed himself into a wall started swimming back to the surface of the big blue. The ship was almost out of sight and his dark eyes squinted in the glaring sunlight, spitting saltwater out of his mouth.

He lay there, floating, waiting for the poisonous waters to seep in.

Nothing happened.

Usually there would be dead birds and other once live creatures infesting the tower's surrounding waters, but now that he took a moment to look around—there was nothing dead. The air wasn't toxic either and definitely not when the ship got close to the island. And with that, he began stroking against the tides, towards the tower that never seemed to get any closer.

Man did he wish Happy was there, floating above the shores of the island with his usual, optimistic and candy-like attitude.

He scanned the threatening structure with more of a 'Are there still people here?' rather than an 'I should be scared of this thing I should get away' look. It appeared deserted and it sounded as quiet as a beach with roaring waves crashing against a rocky spread. As he climbed on the familiar bend, looked around and hoped that he wouldn't get jumped by enemies. It's not like that would happen, but anything was possible in this hectic world.

Being here was so nostalgic. Wasn't this place supposed to be destroyed? How is it still floating on the middle of the ocean? Everything felt the same as before but last time he'd been with his friends. He was alone now and there was no turning back because that overbearing smell of hers was getting even stronger.

…

"So who are all these little pets you've found this time?" She continued with slow drawl. Champagne wasn't really meant to get a drunken sensation from—it was more for celebration. But Erza was going to get much of what she can from her old life. "I don't see Ultear or Meredy around anywhere." She glanced around the once empty now guard filled room, the darkness that is alcohol beginning to seep into her judgment. "Don't—don't tell me." Erza gasped in a pseudo-surprised manner, placing a palm to her mouth. "You've betrayed them too, haven't you?"

"Don't be so ridiculous. I haven't betrayed them and they haven't betrayed me." He took a sample of his age old wine with no such worry, "If we always betrayed each other when our views differed, then what kind of world would this be?"

She snorted at this. "A realistic one? Ultear didn't sound too insistent on being buddy-buddy when she spoke of you. Besides, wouldn't they be here if they agreed with what you were doing?"

He eyed her plate and asserted dominance in his voice, "You should finish your meal Erza. I'd rather see meat on you than the smell of alcohol in your breath."

A look of contempt splashed along her reddening features, she had been disgusted with the man seated across the table for a long while now. He was ghastly beautiful but quite repulsive on the inside, and he was so manipulative and cunning that she detested him for falling for his impossibility. She swallowed a breath before regarding her warden once again. "You always dance around my questions. Is it really that hard to fully answer them?"

"Like I said—our views differ and it wouldn't be worth mentioning."

"No. You never tell the truth. You say the right words—but they're not right. You never do Jellal."

"Erza." His eyes were sharp into her soul, his patience already thinning.

"I'm tired of being your little slave." Erza bluntly said, rising to her feet and the drunkenness doing nothing but spurring on her emotions. Her bloody red hair draped over her sullen, faded features.

"Erza." An exhausted and angry voice repeated again.

"I'm tired of being treated like an animal, like some damn dungeon rat that was never meant to see the light of day. I'm tired of all of this! I'm tired, Jellal. I'm tired of you!"

"Calm down." His voice filled with intimidation, his body braced for action, yet it was cool and calm. He was vehemently insistent that she sat back in her seat, and tore his meal apart with strangely forceful utensil movements—as if he's venting his anger out onto the metallic objects.

Then again, he was partially to blame for letting her drink that much.

She took that as a dare and heatedly took a plate and chucked it straight toward Jellal. The fork was nearing his open mouth ready to bite onto a piece of meat, before having to duck just in time for the glass to crack into a thousand shards against the wall directly behind him.

The guards hadn't been in sight for quite a while now, so she continued to engage in her furious rampage. Erza was tossing dinner plates left and right. The food and glass shattered in cohesion along the stoned tiles, resounding ear splitting noises in the giant echo-reverberating dining hall.

Jellal abruptly stood up, his jaw tightening, and was ready to pounce on her at any second. He knew to never to expect full compliance from a woman as reckless as Erza.

Every time she looked upon his face, his long reaching tattoo and billowing navy locks, she swallowed hard. Her throat constricted with ache and sadness in her heart, realizing she'll never have the kind and passionate Jellal ever again. She grabbed one neatly placed arrangement after another, with explosive intentions and thoughtless rage and sadness. She grabbed a wine glass and threw it at Jellal who effortlessly dodged the second projectile. The loud crash and splatter of glass and alcohol was all that could be heard, as it smashed (once again) against the wall that was behind him. The room smelled delicious, and it still did. But it just didn't look as delicious anymore.

Her rampage was cut short when the breath was knocked right out of her. She found herself trapped by two hard-bodied guards that forced her stand awkwardly in place. One of them happened to be her personal grudging guard that struck her a little more than need be to tame the situation. Jellal himself could've done it. He definitely could've done it. But why do anything when you've got minions who do the dirty work for you?

Maybe he just wanted to see the all perfectly composed Erza break down without having to do anything.

"Only one will do for now. She's not as strong as she used to be."

If she had more strength she would've barked an insult at him for his comment, but rather almost on the verge of tears from the pain of her lock down (and also the tipsiness of her drunken state). The brute for a guard volunteered to lock Erza's arms in place by cuffing them by her underarms and forcibly leaned her body at an upward angle so that she could properly face the consequences. She was still a tough one—squirming and still jotting herself angrily with the weakness in her body.

Defeated, soulless eyes were wide open in distress. He clutched onto her chin with monstrous force, forcing her attention in his direction with frustration. She whimpered at the pressure he put on her jaw, sudden contempt crossed her features. She noticed his lucent eyes falter a little as they stared down into her pained caramel ones, her very soul. It almost—almost—seemed as if he was going to provide some reasoning behind his actions. His thumb wiped the wetness away, as more would come dripping down her cheeks.

"Now now, don't cry. I thought you were stronger than this?" He dangerously smiled, his suave voice filling the cold and frigid air around her ears. "Surely you thought of the consequences of what you have just done, haven't you?"

She told herself that crying was the least acceptable thing to do and especially before Jellal's prying eyes. But that didn't stop a tear or two from seeping out. She wanted to look away, but those fingers just kept her there. "Go ahead and punish me." She spat out irately. "I don't even care what happens to me."

His eyes narrowed, and continued calmly. "Are you asking to be punished?"

She glared up at him with much malice in her intent.

He cast down at her gracefully with his piercing, soul stealing, profoundly hazel-green eyes. Green was supposed to represent peaceful and earthlike spirits, but rather proved to be unwelcomingly ominous as was his true nature. He signaled for his brute of a guard of his intentions.

"Sir." The guard nodded, loosening his grip on her weak arms.

The warden of the tower spared no further acknowledgement to his subordinate guardsman as he allowed him to remove his hands from the girl. His cat like eyes joined her perplexed ones once again as if he were already bored with him, though continued to speak in a displeased tone towards Erza.

"Clearly you are." Before Erza had a chance to react, she found her face surrounded with compelling force and pain that craned her head backwards. His two fingers roughly clasped onto her cheekbones like a crabs unrelenting claw and slammed her head onto the dining table. "I'm going to teach you what it means to be obedient." His hand swiped any remaining residue that lingered on the table, all the while driving her body against the hard surface.

Erza's head began pounding with each heartbeat—like a hammer mashing against her head with rhythmic tempo. Her eyes sealed shut on reflex so that she could at least dim out the awful aching in the postern of her skull. She was increasingly frightened for her life because she knew that Jellal… Jellal was growing bold, and with each passing day he would become more vicious and oppressive with his intentions.

How was it possible that he could revert back to someone even less than the Jellal of the past?

His shadowed face was even less discernable with lights down casting over his sharp features. "Or need I remind you what happened here fifteen years ago?"

Of course she knew.

But it wasn't the eye he was talking about. It was something else. It was something another guard had done.