Alleyways ⇀ Jerome Valeska Imagine

02: mazes

"I thought we said no hostages."

"Yeah, well, I got a little lost." Jerome snapped, clearly irritated with the man who had formerly spoken. Jerome's gun was still pressed into your side, but the pain had subsided. Slightly.

The man who had spoken was eyeing you suspiciously, and when he opened his mouth you noticed that he had extremely sharp canines. He was quite large, and had dirty, frizzy hair. You gulped, disliking the way he was looking at you, and stumbled backwards.

The dilapidated warehouse you were currently in was filled mostly with wooden crates, their contents god knows what. They were stacked upon one another, creating a sort of maze within the large building. Either side of you was a large wall of wooden boxes covered in dust, and there was a narrow passage way in front of you. Some crates were draped with moldy sheets, others completely overrun with cobwebs. The signs of disuse were evident.

"Who's this then?" The guy with the afro asked, tilting his head and looking at you as one would do to an exhibit at a museum.

You felt Jerome shrug behind you, and then heard him say, "I dunno. She never said."

"Sorry to interrupt, boys, but we need to g - who on earth is that?"

Jerome firmly spun you around to address the new member to the conversation who had entered between two crates, and you sucked in a sharp intake of air when you realized something about him was recognizable. He was slender and tall, with slicked black hair.

"Like I a'ready said, she never told me." Jerome informed him, leaning forward so his head was right beside your shoulder. He was grinning, you could tell. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. You wanted nothing more than to not look at that familiar man, so you glanced up at the ceiling of the warehouse, pretending to be incredibly fascinated with the high beams above your head.

You were just moving onto the third beam on the ceiling, thoroughly examining a rather detailed cobweb when someone trapped you on your temple. Your head snapped so quickly down you were surprised you didn't get whiplash. You jolted forward from being startled, but your captive's unyielding clutch kept your balance.

"I asked you a question." The familiar man said, his face expressionless and his glare cold. You swallowed, but your throat was dry from fear.

You exhaled raggedly. "Could you repeat it?" You asked, awkwardly giving him a weak smile.

The man smiled thinly, nodding once. "I asked what your name was."

"Oh." You replied, blinking several times. "It's..."

"Yes?" The man said, urging you on impatiently.

"I... I don't r... Y-you're criminals."

Jerome made an extremely faux-gasp behind you.

"Criminals?" The man in front of you repeated, and then he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

"I think I should remind you that you're being held at gunpoint, hun." Jerome said, letting out a small cackle.

You heard doors creaking open, and then after several moments a huge guy came bumbling out behind a pillar of wooden boxes, with a limp body slumped over his shoulder. His fists were encased in blood, and you had to restrain yourself from vomiting on the spot.

"Aaron, how nice of you to join us!" Jerome exclaimed, broadly grinning. "Would you pass me that chair, please?" He asked in a polite tone, gesturing with his head to a wooden chair beside the brute.

The man, otherwise known as Aaron, made a grunt, and dropped the body to the floor. You winched as you heard a sickening crunch. Aaron took the chair and dragged it over to Jerome, where he forced you down onto the seat. Your hands were then bound behind your back, and you were grateful that the bindings weren't extremely tight.