The Scarred Rat (A Dishonored Fanfiction)

Chapter Five | Escaping into Seizure

My dagger sinks into the wood continuously, creating splinters and ruining the old, dusty card cabinet that I kneel on top of even more. But I barely see anything through my tears, and I hear nothing but my angry sobs.

Suddenly, my dagger fails to once again stab the wood as a tight grip closes around my right wrist; I realize that Daud must have transversed up here to me and is now trying to prevent me from doing anymore damage to the cabinet. After trying for several painful seconds to break free from his grip and touch the tip of my dagger to the splintered wood, I drop the knife and let it clatter on the cabinet top. I pull back when Daud's grip loosens and throw myself against the wall behind me, shielding my face as I begin to cry harder.

A few long, humiliating seconds pass before Daud finally says something.

"I'm waiting."

I pull my hands away from my face to stare at him in bewildered fury. "You're waiting?" I echo in disbelief. "What about me? I've been having nightmares about those two men for six months. Six. Months," I spit in pure outrage. "I just want to kill them! Why won't you let me go when you're away?" A fresh sob starts to pour out of me, but I force it back.

Daud looks at me with eyes as emotionless as ever. "You're not trained well enough yet. All we have done is what we did last night."

Damn him! "Then why did the Outsider give me his Mark?" I retort. Is he seriously this oblivious?

He freely takes multiple seconds before he chooses to answer me. "Because the Outsider doesn't care for your well-being."

I snort. "The Outsider's given me more than you ever have."

That's when Daud's eyes narrow a fraction, and his face shadows even darker in the gloom we are sitting it. "Really, Serra? Was the Outsider the one who took you in, who gave you a home, healed you from certain death, and gave you the initial chance to enact vengeance on those who would have caused your death if not for my intervention?"

I glare at him, all the tears I ever shed forgotten. "No," I say lowly, dangerously. "But he's the one who actually allows me to get the revenge I want, when I want." To make sure he actually understands what I'm talking about, I flex my left hand before looking away from him. This time, I'm the one who signals for the conversation to end.

And fortunately for him, he's smart enough to take a hint and leave me alone as he tranverses elsewhere.

I listen as Daud and the whalers make the final adjustments to the barricaded entrances before finally transversing elsewhere to begin their god-forsaken mission to kill a witch. To kill a witch. What a laugh.

But it's obvious not all the whalers left with Daud, just as he promised, as I hear the familiar movement of the rubber outfits as someone walks around the hall edging Daud's chamber. My tears dry as determination settles within me. I don't care what Daud thinks, or what he'll do to me if - and when - he finds out I left the hideout. The only thing I care about right now is sinking my dagger into actual flesh instead of wood.

Taking a breath to calm myself, I glance around the room below me, which looks like must have been some sort of workspace before the area flooded and was left abandoned. There are a few cubicles separated by wooden barriers and more, smaller card cabinets with two rotten desks in each cubicle, along with a disarray of papers and chairs. No whalers are in here.

From where I still sit on top of the cabinet, there is a window to my left, though it's been barricaded with tin sheets. I've never actually been through that way, but I know it's another entrance into Daud's chamber, one that requires transversal, something I did not have until now. But I know there must be an easier way out than that, somewhere out the back where I've always had to go through to reach this place.