Rich? - Jerome Valeska

30

Jerome hopped up on the side of the building, gazing over the edge at the city. I followed him to sit next to him, but when I got close enough, I peeked over the edge and got lightheaded. The cars and people on the streets looked tiny in a chilling, yet thrilling way. I stumbled around slightly, hearing my pulse in the back of my head as my ears started ringing.

"You okay?" Jerome laughed, raising an eyebrow as I rested my hand on the side of the building where Jerome sat for security.

Nodded, I mumbled, "Yeah," as I took deep breaths. "I didn't know I was so scared of heights."

I thought of the time that I sat on the balcony and my head screamed at my body to toss myself over the edge. Knowing the scene wasn't something I should think about, I stepped away from the side of the building and Jerome, keeping an eye on the employees of Yellen's Shipyard who were fidgeting around as Greenwood and Dobkins stood close to them, Aaron to the side, ready to get to work.

As they tossed the few first workers over the edge, the collective screams from below gained volume and I smiled at each one. It wasn't that I lacked empathy like Jerome; part of me just found it entertaining. I thought of this as Jerome instructed Aaron where to push the workers off the building.

When other people said that they found their own pain entertaining after they were through with feeling it, I could never relate, because when I'm not feeling my best, half of me is wallowing in my own sorrow while the other half is entertained by my misfortune.

It's almost as if a part of me wants to feel pain, as if I feel like I deserve it or need it. I would never inflict pain on myself purposely, though, unless it was necessary. I enjoyed the kind of pain that working out until I couldn't breathe brought me, or running on concrete with bare feet in the summer. One side of me carried too much emotion, and the other none at all.

"Perfect," I heard Jerome announce. "Next."

I glanced up at him just as he turned around to find the next hostage. Finding myself staring at his ass, I cleared my throat and looked away promptly, seeing Jerome smirk at me from my peripheral vision. "Get over here, gorgeous," he called, "and bring Mr. 'X' with you."

Pursing my lips slightly at the maniacal grin on his face, I led the man with an X spray painted on his shirt over to the side of the building. Aaron hauled him onto the edge, and Jerome looked at him thoughtfully. "Ah, little to the right." Helzinger shoved the man to the right and Jerome approved, "Okay, that's the spot," the animalistic look in his eye sparkling as the man plummeted to the ground next to his friends.

"Perfect," Jerome growled,  glancing around at me for just a moment to grab my hand and yank it towards him. "Look at that, it's a beautiful sight."

I peeked down at it to see people scrambling around frantically, all the horrified tones in their voices put together loud enough to carry back up to the top of the building. Each man that Aaron had pushed down was left on the ground, in the middle of the intersection, their free limbs mangled strangely. I was so immersed in the intriguing sight that it didn't occur to me for a moment how far away from the ground it all was. Scrambling back, I shook my head at Jerome. "It's nice, yeah," I breathed, putting a distance between myself and the edge as to not let the other side of myself take over and land on the bodies that had been thrown there.

"What's wrong, princess?" he asked, pouting obnoxiously.

I shook my head again as Dobkins asked, "What shall we do with the spare?"

As Jerome would've done no matter who was talking to him if there was violence involved outside the conversation, he ignored me and thought for a moment. "Ooh!" he exclaimed, sliding off the wall and hissing, "I know," as he strolled over to the hostage. Taking the can of red paint, he quickly sprayed an exclamation mark onto the man's white uniform and then tossed the can to the side, saying through a grin, "Aaron, would you kindly?"

He did as Jerome said and hurled the man over the short wall and I listened to his sweet, muffled cries until hearing a thud on the concrete below. Everyone gathered around to admire the work and for a moment I forgot about the dangerous height I stood at as Jerome draped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him as he sighed happily at the breathtaking beauty.

"Maniax," Aaron sounded out slowly, reading the letters on the workers' shirts.

Jerome chuckled, "Now that's a headline," cackling at the terror we had stricken upon the city.

Super sorry that this chapter was so short