DECODE. // Dracule Mihawk

12. Bloodied Angel

THERE wasn't much else to see in the dilapidated manor Giorgio was keeping her in. If you didn't include the damned torture basement.

Sabine had carefully, and woefully, tread along each hallway and into more rooms. Abandoned and dirty. Dust scattered in the air, she found herself struggling to breathe more often than not. Drifting along like a ghost, puffy red eyes and a spinning mind that caused her to feel like everything was moving in slow motion. She found a surprisingly workable kitchen and off that was the only place with life. Properly insulated walls, a clean bed and bathroom. It must have been Giorgio's room, and surprisingly the puppet allowed her to clamor through it, rifle through his drawers. Nothing of individuality about him that gave her insight into him, no ammunition she could use to help herself.

The dread of every creak, every scatter of mice along the floor causing her to panic- it was taking its toll. Once more she found herself growing tired, as if waiting with each chime of a clocktower that counted down to her coming doom. Like he was playing a sick game with her mental state, forcing her to wonder, to second guess, to keep her on her toes. An anxious ball formed in her chest, and oh how it pulsed and throbbed, made her feel like her body was crumbling in on itself.

One place yet to explore. Stairs going up. Of course, she thought. Stairs down led to a room filled with death so she could only imagine what stairs upwards led to. Almost humorous to her, in the messed up sense of things, a faint chuckle leaving her lips as she began to take the stairs. Her legs screaming for reprieve from all the wandering and crouching, and reaching she'd done today in the name of escape.

Sabine ran out of steam to yell at Giorgio's devil fruit powered puppet almost an hour ago. All the wine bottles shattered proved such. At this point it was like an obsessive pet that won't leave your side, just... with more ability to bite. It still startled her, each time she caught sight of its black eyes and grueling teeth, claws.

Cobwebs lined the way up to the attic, faint lights flickered above as she continued on. Inching closer and closer, a static noise rumbling at the back of her head. She almost expected something to jump out with each passing moment since she'd awoken. Expected herself to walk into an unfortunate situation that resolved in her doom. If only she'd had a weapon.

A door at the end of the hall, its white paint in ghastly contrast to the darkness of the attic. The paint was chipping away and nail marks scratched along the lower foot. Like each door she'd come to before Savine cringed as she grasped the handle, said a prayer and thrusted it open.

"Wha-"

Wide eyed Sabine stared at the girl on the ground in the corner of the room, a chain around her ankle. A heap of blankets at her side, a makeshift table with water, and what might have been a bathroom door to the left. The attic had no windows, the air was musty and reeked of bodily odors.

"Oh no," The girl stammered, "Well fuck."

Sabine hurried to the girl's side after the initial shock, grasping hold of the chain even as her vision went blurry for a moment, "Are you okay?"

But the girl didn't respond, because in the light she could now see the puppet. Her mouth dropped open, shell shocked at the gruesomeness that hovered in the doorway, its aura plentiful, heavy as it made the air murky like turning a fresh pond muddy. Sabine looked over to see it and she shuddered.

"He.. Really wants to torture you making it look like that." The girl grimaced looking at Sabine, "For me he made it look like a regular man."

Sabine swallowed hard, "How long have you..."

"Been here? Few weeks maybe, but with you arriving?" She sighed, collapsing back against the wall, more annoyed than anything, "Got a few days."

Her voice was caught in her throat, unsure how to speak to the other captive. Too much casualness in her body language and in her lack of fear that from Sabine's experience with confessions, was of someone who's given up.