The Fearless Kitten | Miraculous Ladybug

Chapter Four - An Itching Voice

"-hurt her. We just need the other Miraculous and using her as leverage will work. Let me know when she wakes up." I keep my eyes closed, listening into the conversation being held. The surface I'm laying on is hard, my body extremely sore. I can tell I no longer have Plagg with me. I feel significantly weaker, that pure energy coursing through me directly from him is completely gone, leaving no trace behind.

All I feel is the tension in my body, and the throbbing headache that threatens the contents of my stomach. I'm certain I'll barf, but that'll show whoever is in this room that I'm awake. I need to keep it down as long as I can.

"Yes, sir." Another male voice rings out, rumbling deep into the air. It makes all the hair on my body stand up, feeling the eeriness settle into my spine. I feel like a coward, a small dog hiding from a bigger predator.

"And no one speaks to her until I say so."

"Yes, sir." This time it's a chorus of voices, too many to pick out. One thing is for certain, it's all men.

Horrifying imagery passes through my mind, and I feel my heart hammer wildly in my chest, my adrenaline kick starting again. My stomach churns, the bile rising in my throat. I desperately swallow it back down. There's no way I can continue on like this.

"I want one person on guard at all times, I don't want anyone to somehow slip in and take her out of here. Let's not forget we're dealing with the former Heroes of Paris. We have to assume they have access to all the other Miraculous', and all the money for any resource they want. Nothing gets more attention that a young white girl whose missing."

"Yes, sir." The chorus of deep voices ring out again, but the deepest one sticks with me. It's spine-chilling, settling in my core. Somehow, it's familiar. It itches my brain, just aching to be remembered. Like a word on the tip of your tongue, but just out of reach, no faces in my memory can match that voice.

"Micky, watch the girl-"

I vomit everywhere, my weak arms shakily holding my body up and away from my puke. The contents of my stomach draining all over my makeshift bed, and I heave until there is nothing left. Soon, it's just stomach acid.

When I flop down, I can't even stop myself from landing in my vomit. Too weak to move, my hair plasters to my sweat covered face, the smell of puke making my already queasy stomach do somersaults.

Arms wrap around me, dragging me somewhere different. I don't have the energy to put up a fight, all I do is lock eyes with the man. I'm surprised by the kindness in his brown gaze, the sympathy that oozes from his expression. Who is this man?

"You're awake. Could have done without all the spewing, but oh well." The voice commanding everyone before finally comes into view. He's a tall man, traditionally handsome with salt and pepper hair and matching stubble. His voice is laced with a gorgeous British accent, that I would normally be swooning for if the situation was any different.

He's much older, I'd say in his forties. But something about him seems almost, friendly? Not the type of man you'd ever picture to be kidnapping young women and holding them hostage.

"You're name is Emma Agreste, correct?" I don't dignify him with a response, watching his brows furrow ever so slightly. "You put up quite the fight trying to get you here. Took out some of my men. Did you know that? Two of them died. You have blood on your hands now, Miss Emma."

The memories from before flash through my mind. The van, calling out Cataclysm, decimating the whole vehicle. I suppose the other people inside it must have died.

Is he expecting me to feel bad?

"I want you to explain to me how the Miraculous works, Miss Emma." The man speaks again, crouching down to meet me at eye level. The kind eyed man holding me into a seating position slightly squeezes my armpits. I don't know if it's in warning, or to adjust me.