𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄, ERIK LEHNSHERR

𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵

          A rough cough emitted from Kara's mouth, followed by many more as she regained consciousness. Her eyes felt heavy under her eyelids and her head was pounding, different from the mental attack she endured only a few hours, days, — she didn't know — ago.

She felt restraints on both of her wrists and her ankles, her body lifted in the hair as she hung like a star. She craned her neck up and opened her eyes, adjusting to the bright light above her head to see the chains connected to the corners of the wall behind her.

She let out a breath and rolled her head around, trying to regain strength but it was useless when she felt a collar around her neck. She figured it was a restraint to fend off her abilities due to the knowledge that she could and would escape if she hadn't had something to hold her back.

While she hung in the air, she decided the only the she could do was look around. The room was a dull gray, filled with a metal table and two chairs beside it. A few screws were displayed on the table, which she had no clue what they were for.

She'd never been captured before but she'd learned in many movies not to try and pry her way out when there was no way she could. She didn't make a sound for what she imagined were hours.

When the door in front of the table opened, she looked up, despite the pain in her neck, and set her eyes on the man who used to rock her to sleep at night. A man with a black suit on came barreling after him, a gun strapped over his chest.

"Good, you're finally awake. I was hoping to talk to you since you've been asleep for most of the day." Mack huffed, sticking his thumb into his chest as he eyed her.

She studied his movements and analyzed his attire, noticing a walkie-talkie strapped to his breast pocket on his black combat suit. His hands were intertwined behind his back and he lifted an eyebrow at her silence.

"Do say something." He encouraged. The nerve.

"Aren't you a little too old to be a psycho?" Her voice was raspy as she spoke and she had to cough to clear it up. She swallowed the saliva in her mouth as she yearned for water, knowing there was a slim chance he would provide her with a drop of the liquid.

He narrowed his eyes at the comment and held back his want to harm her, figuring he would be doing a lot of that later on.

She laid her head on the side of her arm and she desperately wished she was anywhere but there at the moment. She was very uncomfortable but she wouldn't dare say anything.

"Since you haven't asked yet, you're here-" He began but was cut off by her dull tone.

"I'm here because you want to kill me. Yes, I know. You made it clear the day I killed my mother with the way you stared at me. Have you been stalking me? Isn't that a little perverted?" She inquired, her sarcasm earning a strong backhand to her cheek.

She grunted as her head turned to the side from the impact of the hit, her saliva mixing with the tangy and metallic taste of the crimson liquid. She let out a small chuckle and spit on the concrete below her, showing her teeth as she glanced back up at him. She was sure her taunting comments would get her into more trouble than she was originally there for.

"You'll learn to keep your comments under control while you're alive, Kara. That was just a warning." He seemed so confident as he stood straight without a trace of humor but she saw past it.

She hummed and hung her head only for the soldier to grip her jaw and force her head to face her father again.

"Why don't you go ahead and kill me now that you have me? You might not get the chance again." She muttered, cringing as she swallowed back blood.