His Trophy | Jerome Valeska

fourteen

Hi Guys, Before you read this chapter I just wanted to thank you guys (again). His Trophy is ranking at 1 in #gotham! That's unbelievable! So thank you for all the support, I know that I seem to be going on about it but it really is so nice that so many of you are reading this!! I promise this is the last time I'll go on about it but thank you so much for getting book there!!!

R. x

TRIGGER WARNING: VERY MATURE AND UNSETTLING CONTENT 

Rory stared at herself in the mirror. The bruises on her neck had healed but the cuts on her wrist remained. Her eyes were tired, dark bags sat under them. Her lips were chapped and pale, and her face flushed. Her hair had gotten longer, and it fell around her sickly face in loose, frizzy ringlets. How had she become this ghost?

She couldn't trust her eyes anymore. They had started to play tricks on her. When her father came back from Arkham Asylum, she thought she could see a purple glow around him. He was angry, and the light seemed to slide off him like sweat. He had asked her questions, confusing questions. His words didn't sound like his own, and as he spoke to her, she could help but watch the glow slowly grow. She became hysterical, screaming and crying. She locked her self in the bathroom to try and get away from him.

And there she was, in the mirror looking back at her self as she exhausted her self from panic. He couldn't really be like Jerome, could he? There's no way that her father could be insane. Jim had stopped trying to get into the bathroom, and it sounded like he was on the phone to someone. But Rory has stopped paying attention and was more focused on her reflection. She didn't recognise herself.

She looked intensely into her own eyes. As she let out long shakey breaths, trying to calm her self down, Rory saw a dim glow slowly start to encase her. It was a bright burning light; the green embers slowly broke from her skin.

"No, no, no, no," she screamed as she started to rub her arms and neck to get rid of the light. But she could do nothing. It only grew bigger and brighter. Was this real? Was her father like this too? Was she going insane? Tears began to choke her as she scratched and clawed at her self to try and stop the light. But she couldn't.

"I can't be like him, I can't," she screamed through her tears as she pushed her self away from the mirror. She looked down at her hands, and she could see the same green flames start to consume her.

"Get it off me! GET IT OFF ME!"

Jim was now trying to break down the door at his daughter's cries but was failing. The banging caused Rory's thoughts to spiral. What if Jerome has gotten to her father? What if he was going to release him? What if he was going to take her to him?

No, she couldn't let him get her. Panicked and terrified, Rory punched the mirror, the shards falling into the sink. Her knuckles stang from the pain, but she didn't care. Jim broke down the door just as she reached for a large piece of the broken mirror, holding it tightly and pointed it at Jim

"You're working for him! He's gotten to you, my own father! I'm not going! I'm not going anywhere with you!" Rory yelled pointing at her stepdad with a crazed glare. Her hands were covered in blood, and it rolled up her arms and down the shard of glass dripping onto the floor.

Jim stood still and put his hands up. He spoke calmly as he watched his daughter.

"Rory I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to take you to him," he said slowly.

"No!" she shook her head at this with a screech.

"No, I don't believe you! I can see it, I can see the-the light! You're just like him!" she cried out.

"Rory-"

"No, get away from me! I won't go, I won't! I'm nothing like him, I'm not! He's a monster, he's evil I-I-can't go back to him! You-you can't make me !" She interrupted him. There was a moment of silence between the two.

Rory looked at her father, she couldn't see his glow anymore, because the green flames that were dancing on her body had gotten bigger and brighter. She couldn't face Jerome again, there was no way she could. He will never stop hunting me, I will never be free she thought as she watched her father slowly take a step forward.

"No get back!" she screamed again.

"Rory, please, it's okay," Jim said calmly as he tried to approach his daughter.

"I'm not working with him, you're safe, Rory," he cautioned again.

I can't let him get to me again.

Rory looked down at her hands and saw the scars from the circus. The blood that was dripping down from her hands had stained them and as she looked at the shard of the mirror she caught a glimpse of her self. She was covered in flames, her eyes were glowing her skin crawling with light.

"No," she whispered.

A deadly thought crossed her mind, one that made Rory feel determined. He can't get to me if I'm dead. She looked up from the shard and stared into her father's eyes. He'll be better off without me, I can't corrupt him too.

Jim had gotten quite close to her, but he was still cautious of her actions. She looked back down and the mirror piece.

"I will not be his trophy," she yelled before plunging the shard into her stomach. Jim lunged for her and held her on the bathroom floor. Before Rory knew it she was slipping into unconsciousness.