Brooklyn had tried to wait out his imprisonment, because he thought that would be his best way out. Either he could give his clan enough time to find him, or Matthew would finally realize that having Brooklyn wouldn't help him to tame his prize, and it was just a waste of resources to try. Matthew seemed smart enough, and he'd certainly done his research on gargoyles. He had to know that if he killed Brooklyn then he would just put a target on his back.
The clan frequently found themselves trapped or captured in one way or another. They always did whatever it took to free the one who was imprisoned, and then they would move on with their lives and be cautious around the new threat going forward.
In ancient times the gargoyles practiced revenge. An eye for an eye. But they'd realized that getting revenge just gave their enemies more reason to attack them, and then they got hurt all over again. It was a hard lesson to learn, but the clan tried to be cautious and defensive rather than aggressive and cruel.
If Matthew let Brooklyn go, the clan would leave him alone, albeit reluctantly. If he didn't walk out of this alive, Brooklyn was almost sure that his clan would at least temporarily forget the avoidance of revenge that they strove for.
Brooklyn knew that Matthew wanted to use him to intimidate Demona or scare her to cooperate. If it was a gargoyle from the clan, it would probably work flawlessly. Brooklyn knew that he would do whatever a sadistic human wanted if it meant protecting his family from them. But why did Matthew think it would work with Demona?
Brooklyn hated what Matthew had done to his claws, and he spent the whole night panicking about it. He couldn't really think about anything else until the following night. He was still horrified, but he was also focused. He needed to get out of here, and right now Brooklyn was starting to realize that he might need to save himself.
He didn't know where his clan was. It usually didn't take them more than a day, or maybe two, to find one of them that was missing. The exception had been when Goliath, Elisa, and Bronx had been taken by Avalor, but that had been by magic. Matthew was just a man. There was no magic involved. He didn't understand why his clan hadn't come for him.
Brooklyn forced himself not to think about it. He would just start feeling sorry for himself and wonder if they just didn't care. He knew they did, he just always had those stupid doubts at the back of his mind. But he had bigger issues to worry about. First he needed to get away from this place, and then he could worry about where he stood with the clan.
Brooklyn had been making progress in scratching through the collar, but that plan was out now. He couldn't even grip the thing and rip it off, because his claws, as they were, couldn't grab anything, or at least he didn't know how to do it. They were too short and stubby. He had to come up with something else.
He had been trying to play it subtle and safe before, but after his claws were taken from him he didn't want to give Matthew the chance to do more. He needed to get out, and soon.
He didn't want to act rashly, but he didn't have the time or resources to come up with a careful plan. He figured the best chance he had was to wait for when Matthew came back, and act submissive and docile. Play the part of the scared child who feared pain that Matthew seemed to think he was. When Matthew inevitably turned his full attention to Demona, that was when he would strike.
Brooklyn didn't know if he'd be able to reach Matthew. The chain he was kept on was just too short. However, since he couldn't use his claws he would have to get creative anyway, and he knew just what to do. His tail had further reach, and unlike his claws it could actually grip something. Not well, and not easily, but it was still better than his hands.
Brooklyn would have wanted to spend the night getting used to maneuvering his tail. Gargoyles could control their tails if they put the effort in, but usually they let them move by instinct. He needed to get back into practice, but he wasn't given the chance. Matthew came in shortly after midnight, looking far too at ease for someone who was keeping sentient creatures in his basement.
"I hope you two have learned your lesson." Matthew said. Brooklyn hunched in on himself slightly and growled lowly. Demona, who had been oddly quiet all evening, hissed at Matthew.
"I've learned how despicable you can be." Demona said.
"I really don't think you have." Matthew said. "But considering you haven't threatened my life today, I think as much as you try to deny it my lesson has sunk in at least a little bit, so I think we're ready to move on."
Matthew leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. "Do you know why I want you?" Brooklyn knew why he'd been taken, even if he didn't understand it. He doubted he was the one Matthew was talking to. The man only had eyes for Demona, but he was standing too far for Brooklyn to get him with his tail. He needed to wait a little longer.
Demona didn't answer, though Brooklyn didn't know if it was because she didn't want to give Matthew the satisfaction, or if she genuinely didn't know why she was there.
Matthew clicked his tongue and pulled out an elaborate dagger. "I'm waiting for an answer."
Demona crossed her arms and gave him an unimpressed look. She refused to play his games, and Brooklyn knew that he was going to be the one to pay the price for it. He grew tense and watched carefully. When Matthew sighed and shook his head in disappointment, Brooklyn knew what was coming before the man even made his move.
Matthew threw the dagger with the speed and aim of somebody who knew what they were doing. Brooklyn ducked and lurched to the side, just barely avoiding getting nicked. The dagger clattered to the ground, and Brooklyn felt like he could hear his heart pounding in his head. He stared at the dagger while Matthew continued to address Demona, as though he hadn't done anything.
"I'm not an unreasonable man." Matthew said. "But my patience only lasts so long, and I suggest you don't test me more. Now, answer the question."
Brooklyn looked at Demona, trying to get a read on her face. What she did would determine what Matthew would do. Demona's eyes were harsh. Her gaze drifted from Matthew to Brooklyn. They made eye contact for just a short moment, and it hurt. Brooklyn was about to look away when Demona did it first. She looked at the dagger, and then back to Brooklyn, before looking at Matthew.
"You expect me to be your pet." Demona said. "Another artifact in your collection."
"You're close." Matthew took a step towards Demona, and Brooklyn's breath hitched in his throat. If he stepped just a bit to the side he'd be nearly out of Matthew's direct view. He wasn't close enough to reach him, but he didn't think he had to be. Not when Matthew had handed a weapon right to him.
Brooklyn hunched more and covered himself with his wings, trying to look like he was just cowering. He was just trying to hide what he was doing. He brought his hands to the dagger and tried to pick it up. It should be the simplest thing, but he couldn't get it off the ground. He growled in frustration. This was humiliating.
Matthew continued to address Demona, oblivious to Brooklyn's attempts.
"I want an obedient specimen." Matthew said. "I'm glad you answered my question. That's a step in the right direction. Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for, and I think I need to drive the point home. Because if I'm not consistent, then you'll never learn."
There was a loud bang and a moment later Brooklyn felt a harsh burning pain in his shoulder. He shrieked and fell forward, landing awkwardly on his hands and almost stabbing himself with the dagger on the floor. He gasped and clenched his teeth. It took him a long moment to be able to push past the pain. He lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. Matthew was holding a gun, and the man wasn't even looking at him. He'd shot him, and he looked like he couldn't care less about it.
Brooklyn had known that he was just here to be a scapegoat, but it wasn't until this moment did he really understand that he might not get out of this alive.
He growled and forced himself to focus. He needed to get out of here before he lost his chance. He looked away from his shoulder and pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Forget the dagger in his shoulder. The dagger on the ground was all that mattered.
It was a struggle, and absolutely humiliating, but Brooklyn kept trying because he couldn't afford not to. Eventually his fingers were able to get the thing just far enough off the ground that he was able to slide his palm under it. Brooklyn breathed a sigh of relief and did his best to close his fingers around it. It wasn't a very good grip, so he improvised and held the dagger between his palms, pushing them tight together so he didn't drop it.
He'd never stabbed someone before, but he'd scratched with his claws, and he wasn't going to hesitate to do what was necessary to protect himself. The only reason he wasn't striking now was because Matthew wasn't within striking range, and unlike the man Brooklyn didn't think he was capable of throwing the dagger at all, let alone accurately.
All he could do right now was wait.
He forced himself to keep his breathing even. He'd panicked the day before. He couldn't afford to do the same thing now. He just needed to wait for Matthew to come closer to him. Maybe he'd take the dagger out. Brooklyn didn't know what he would do if he didn't. He tried not to think about it. He needed that opportunity, and he needed to get the dagger out of his shoulder.
"I don't like to damage my belongings." Matthew said. "But I won't tolerate being disrespected, and if I need to choose between the two of you, I'm choosing you." Brooklyn didn't need to be looking at Matthew to know that he was addressing Demona. Brooklyn wasn't his prize.
"If he's so worthless, why keep him at all?" Demona asked. "You're just asking to be stabbed in the back." She put emphasis behind her words, and Brooklyn couldn't help but roll his eyes. She was far from subtle, and she severely underestimated him. Did she really not think that he would take advantage of the opportunities given to him? He wasn't that pathetic.
"Because you clearly need a lesson on what will happen should you upset me." Brooklyn grew tense when he heard Matthew approach him. This was just what he'd been waiting for. Matthew put one hand on his shoulder and used the other to grip the dagger and pull it out. Brooklyn screamed and nearly dropped the dagger in his hands. He had to force his palms together so harshly that it was painful.
Brooklyn got desperate, and he acted brashly. He spun around and thrust his arms forward. He didn't know if he was trying to startle Matthew, harm him, maim him, or kill him. All Brooklyn knew was that he wanted to get out.
The dagger was headed straight for the man's chest, but in one fluid movement Matthew stepped to the side and pulled the remote for the collar out of his pocket. Before Brooklyn could make a second attempt the collar went off and he felt that agonizing shock course through his body.
He shrieked and dropped the dagger as his body grew tense, feeling both numb and painful. And the shock didn't stop. It just kept going, growing stronger with each passing second. Brooklyn only really registered that it stopped when he felt his legs give out beneath him as his body went limp. He fell to the ground with an exhausted groan.
"You two are really not as clever as you think you are." Matthew said. He stepped behind Brooklyn, standing over him. "What did you think you were going to accomplish? You thought you could just escape? Glide away and pretend this was all just a bad dream?"
"I'm not just going to roll over and be your pet." Brooklyn growled, though the intensity that he was trying to convey didn't get through. The shock left him unable to move again. He could barely breathe. Intimidation wasn't his strong suit right now.
"She's my pet." Matthew said. He put a foot on the shoulder that he'd shot and he slowly increased the pressure. "You're just a tool."
Brooklyn clenched his teeth and did his best to keep his pain to himself. As the pressure got stronger he couldn't keep it in. Brooklyn shouted in pain, and that grew into a raw scream when Matthew just went harder. Brooklyn's scream grew to a piercing pitch until he felt something in his throat give. Only then did Matthew stop
The man got off of him, and Brooklyn just lay on the ground, gasping and sobbing as the pain started to ease. His shoulder still felt like it was on fire, but the pain was focused on just one area now instead of spreading down his entire arm. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding. He thought he might have heard words, but he couldn't understand any of it. All he really heard were his own cries.
He hoped that was all. That the punishment had been dealt. It had hurt, but dawn was just in a few hours. This injury would heal, and he wouldn't feel a thing. He'd be just fine, and he could make a more careful plan tomorrow. Everything would be just fine.
Those thoughts rushed out the window when he felt a hold on his wing. He felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't really understand what Matthew might be saying, but he knew what he was doing.
The man had made it clear that when he administered punishment, he would do so in a way he thought was appropriate. He wanted the punishment to fit the crime. Demona had threatened to scratch him, and he'd taken Brooklyn's claws. Brooklyn had tried to escape so he could glide away from here, and Matthew had grabbed his wing. It didn't take a genius to know what he had planned.
"Please, don't." Brooklyn pleaded, his voice coming out resembling a croak and he didn't know if it was because of terror or the strain he'd put on his throat.
There was no response. No taunting words. Brooklyn just felt the hold on his wing tighten. There was a stabbing pain. His vision went dark, and then there was nothing.