Predator (DWT x OC)

7

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I breathe sharply out of my nostrils, clenching my jaw.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, hard. The tinge of copper burns in my mouth.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I tuck my body in, head resting on my forearm so stop myself slamming it into the wall.

The ceiling keeps on dripping.

Time passes slowly. Fundy slides food into the slot in the heavy door, but never opens it. At least I've got sunlight and fresh air, and a bathroom. There's a small connected room, toilet, sink and a shower. No weapons of course, but at least there's pads. Not like my last stint in a small enclosed prison, where the those idiots forgot I was a woman and had to spend a whole day looking for sanitary items.

In the day it's a suffocating blanket, all numbness and sadness and dull, bruising pain. I remake the bed a million times, and trace the swirling patterns of sunlight a million more, but it's never enough. Never enough to distract me from the way it aches, in my chest and in my head.

The nights though, are a different kind of suffering. The night brings razor sharp knives of heartbreak and grief, they bury themselves deep in my sternum, and in my throat. They choke my body with sobs that stop me from breathing, and no matter how tightly I wrap the blankets around me, they always find a way through.

Fear. Sadness. Anger. Grief. A daily routine, a cycle of emotions that consume me.

Then there's a new addition to the routine. A knock at the door. It creaks open, and Fundy walks through. I heave myself up into a sitting position, pressing my spine into the cold stone. He holds up the chains.

Oh I don't fucking think so.

He notices my instant reaction. "Rosemary, if you want answers, if you want to talk, then you have to let me make sure you aren't going to attack me again." He says sternly. I stare at him, red hot anger fiery in my veins. But I want answers, I need answers, so I grit my teeth and let him wrap the cold metal around my sore wrists and tether it to the wall.

He sits himself on the bed, and I can't help but smirk at his face, deep purple bruises painted onto his skin, nose slightly off kilter. He regards me curiously, but in a sort of dehumanising, minimising way. Like a child looking at an animal at the zoo. I scowl back at him.

"Why am I here?"

"You're the key to freedom." He responds brightly.

"What does that mean?" I snap. I just want an answer, how hard is that?

"Dream would do anything for you." He says, leaning forward. "And so I'm going to make him give us independence." It makes sense, really. In some twisted way he's doing this for L'manburg, for what he believes is right. Blackmail Dream for L'manburg's independence, with me as the bargaining chip. Well, I am fucking sick of being traded around like a fucking object.

"You're a stupid, crazy piece of shit." I spit. "I'm going to make sure you pay for this, for everything you've done to me. And if I don't, Dream is going to rip you apart. You know that right? He's going to hunt you down, and he's going to slit your fucking throat with a smile on his face."

He smiles, sadistic little grin spreading out over his pointy face. "Oh I'm sure he'll try. But you know what, Rosy Pie? He can't touch me when I have you." I clench my fists at the nickname, a dirty little knife in my side. I press my lips together and don't respond. He continues. "Once l'manburg has independence, he can't hurt me there either."

"You really think l'manburg is going to take you back, after you kidnapped me?" I scoff.

"You really think l'manburg actually trusts you? They all know, we all know about you. That you're a fucking traitor, just like Eret. They had to keep an eye on you, build your trust." He sneers back. I feel like I've been slapped in the face.

"You're such a liar. Out of everyone there, I am definitely not the traitor here. So keep lying, keep saying whatever you have to to yourself to keep pretending that this is justified in any way." I retort back. He's lying, I tell myself. He's just trying to make you feel bad.

The smile falls off his face. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I'm going to use you as blackmail to get l'manburg's independence. So strap yourself in Rosemary, because it's probably gonna hurt. Gotta send a message, you know?" He jeers cruelly. I draw in a shaky breath. He starts talking again, but I can't hear the words he's saying, I can only feel the way his voice bores itself into the bottom of my skull. I clamp my hands over my ears to try and stop it, but it just cuts through. So I start yelling.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" I shout, tucking my legs up under my chin. It's all too much, his voice, the chain, the room, and I want it to stop. I vaguely register him shutting the door, silence filling the empty space left by his presence. I rock slightly, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, trying to lull myself into calm.

Eventually it works, and I gingerly peel my hands away from my ears, half expecting my brain to be filled with screeching noise, but it's only met with quietness. I unfurl my body, stretching out slowly, fingers, hands, arms, neck, shoulders, stomach. I splash my face with water, and wrap my hair back into a bun.

I slide underneath the neat covers. Moonlight floats through the windows, casting that cold silvery glow that washes over everything. The pain finds me again, through the blankets, and I clutch my middle, keeping all the little pieces of me together, even though they threaten to shatter apart. Fundy's words spin around and around in my mind.

They've become a little seed, burrowing itself in the pit of the stomach, slowly poisoning my with doubt and uncertainty. My mind tries to drown the feelings out with rationality and logic, but since when has that ever worked?

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A/N Surprise! Two chapters as a little treat because you guys deserve it, and I'm also in a writing mood. So we know Fundy's motivation, but what about his full plan? It's up to Rose to figure it out.

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Hope you enjoyed!

Oopsies x