Wasteland Ferns

Everyone's Flawed

**Fern's POV**

Four months.

Four months since I was bought by Ahzrukhal. Three months since I got used to Underworld. Two and a half months since Charon left. Two months since Ahzrukhal started hurting me.

Constantly reminding me that I was on his leash, that I was not my own person. Half of me fought, pleading to hold on. The other half believed what the bastard told me.

But today was different. For better or worse, I couldn't tell.

After finishng another shift at that fucking bar, I sat on one of the benches in the hallway. I soon felt a presence next to me, and looking to my right, I saw Charon sitting next to me. His face was etched with concern as he looked at my arm. I followed his gaze, and saw handmarks, bruised, and sore.

Ahzrukhal did roughly grab my arm earlier, so it made sense.

"That's one nasty bruise, miss Fern. What happened?"

"I slipped. Nothing to worry about."

"Do not lie to me. I've been in enough fights to recognize the aftermath of a scrap."

I flinched slightly at the change in his tone, but mainatined my composure and replied, "I'm fine, big guy. Don't worry about me."

Charon didn't seem convinced. His eyes were trained on me like a dog's eyes on a mole rat.

"Fern," he began. "I know a lie when I hear it. You know you can tell me anything."

I wanted to trust him. I did.

It wasn't long before I saw Ahzrukhal walking out of the ninth circle, counting his caps as he made his way to see Quinn. Didn't notice that I went silent as I saw him.

Charon must've noticed. His scowl grew as he started to get a picture of what was going on, but he kept his composure.

"Never mind. How... close are you to your freedom?"

I paused before looking up at him. "I'm not sure," I responded. "Ahzrukhal usually tells me how close I am, but he's been quiet about it for a while."

"Hmm.... Maybe he wishes to keep you in his employ for longer than agreed. I believe you may be over the top in terms of repayment."

My eyes widened slightly, and my breath caught in my throat. Instinctively, I looked around to make sure Ahzrukhal wasn't listening in. It probably just angered Charon more.

I implored, "How would I be able to tell, though?"

"I believe he keeps notes on things like this. Knowing the guy, probably his business ledger. It's underneath his desk."

My face betrayed shock, and a little bit of fear, when those words exited his mouth. Before I could respond, he held his hand up, silencing me as he continued.

"You're scared of him, I know. But when you want to relieve yourself of a cruel person's grip, asking permission isn't an option."

"I know that, but how would I access it without him knowing?"

Charon paused, considering this. After a good few seconds, his eyes brightened and he turned to me, his face betraying a small, hopeful smile.

"His chem trades," he replied. "Every now and then, he goes out to meet with traders and junkies to sell chems. On these trades, he's usually gone all day. If you're fast enough, he won't catch you."

I hesitated for a moment, looking back at the doors leading to the ninth circle. It sounded risky. If Ahzrukhal caught me, who knows what he would have done. Even then, Charon was right. I had to end things with him, or get the truth at least.