A Path to Wonderland

Chapter 4: The Devil's Hutch

-Gwyneira's journal

-Past memory

-Present

 

I'm deeply sorry.

It's been about two months in this stupid cell and my aura is far too low for my liking. It's times like these I think back to my once treasured memories, the ones that warmed my heart even now in this freezing cold cell. I thought back to times where I curled my sisters hair, chose pretty, cute dresses for my sister and when those memories seemed too hard to think of, I thought of different times. I thought of days where I had dragged James out of his office, days where I have spent hours on my scroll on call with Glynda, filled with far too much bantering and questions. I also thought of days when I lost against Qrow in drinking games and times where I had played chess with Ozpin. 

I'm rambling. Or whatever the equivalent to rambling is for writing.

My hand has only just healed from the last beating, my big mouth having earned me the fate of a crippled right hand and my hat almost falling off. Thank god it didn't, who knew what they would say or do if they found out I had once been one of them. A Faunus. I don't particularly want to write that, seeing as if I got caught writing this I would probably end up severely beaten.  

It doesn't seem like they want be dead just yet though. Why?

I can't- No. I just don't want to think of that right now, instead I am thinking of the safe. I James I would keep the safe secure. I also promised myself to keep her safe, even if her soul is dying. That's why she must stay in that safe, it will keep her soul alive. 

That's probably a bit too much information, so instead I'll recount a memory for you! I'm not a writer, I'm an Air Force Marshal, so, don't expect this journal to be too professional, dear future readers. If this book is ever even found...

James had been rather harsh on me when I'd arrived in Atlas.

He was a General, a do-good General who couldn't possibly be seen with a common criminal, such as myself, as a co-worker. Or at least that's what my first thoughts on him had been. I had only really met him once, which was the day I had graduated from Atlas Academy, aged 17. I had been busy bragging to the new first years, but then had bumped into a giant ass figure. Turned out it was the new Head Teacher of the Academy...

That was truly it to my recollection, however, it was obvious the man before me didn't seem to remember me. Fuck that. I knew I'd have to create a good impression...or one that would let me be known by him very clearly. Shouldn't have been too hard judging by the glare he had been shooting at me as I arrived, clearly cuffed. I already knew he'd be the object of my attention. Poor hi-

Gwyneira flinched, at the sudden noise that flooded into her one good ear, the long furred rabbit ear twitching from under her hat, a black fiddler cap with the Atlesian symbol at the front. She was quick to dive her hand to a not overly obvious loose brick in the walling under where her mattress of a bed would be. She tucked the small book into the sweet spot, eyes flickering over the crumbled up and discarded pages from previous prisoners no doubt. She shook her head and swiftly replaced the brick, just in time to drag her mattress into place and let out an overly dramatic groan of pain as she reached out towards the door.

The hinges of the door screeched as a single figure walked into the light of the grovelling Militant's cell.

"That's three days without food, human. Surely by now you realise the code isn't worth your pathetic life."

"You would be surprised, Goat man. I'm only playing my part as the prisoner after all~"

The figure, a tall man clad in red and black, scowled and slammed his gloved fist against the cell bars, denting it greatly. His hair and the intricate design on his clothes seemed to glow a bright red for a split second, before the glow died down to it's usual unnerving blood red. The masked man crouched, his voice dangerous and filled with irritation.

Good.

"I'm not a goat, woman...and you should shut that trap, if you don't want another broken hand."

"I know~ But you look better when you're mad~"

The man tensed at the woman's maddening flirt, his body eventually relaxing as he refused to seem weak at a mere flirt. He honestly hated how confident and headstrong she had shown to be over her time imprisoned in the cell. Perhaps her flirtations were from that silly syndrome he had once heard about? Stockholm syndrome, if he remembered correctly. He doubted it was though, she seemed to have been flirting from the start. At first when it happened he had almost stabbed her, however there was far too much worth over the girl's life. So he just ignored it. Or tried to.

He sighed, "Must you?"

"Must I?"

"Flirt."

Gwyneira hummed and shrugged as she giggled, finding it amusing to rub her unlawfully cocky attitude in his face. To her it didn't matter if she died or not, but she had a book to finish.

"Hm... Sorry Taurus, but you know it's my only source of fun down here~ Though, I will stop for now."

He scoffed to himself and shook his head, before glaring from under the mask. He stood, scowling.

"We've managed to find the location of General Ironwood. We will be filming a small video for him tonight."

"Oh? So, let me guess, I'm your rising star?"

"Most unfortunately" He smirked, "You seem to like playing the prisoner so much, so I hope you play the part better of camera."

'Shit.'

That was all Gwyneira could think, the amusement in her eyes quickly being replaced by a irritated glare, much to Adam's amusement. She knew James would want to come rescue her, but she also knew he would put her life above the safe's entrapment. The glare then slipped into a look of cocky admiration as Gwyneira then ignored the angered bull's rage at the look, completely blanking him out as she thought to herself...

'Damn. The White Fang are good at this game~'