Villain cursed as their knees hit the floor, almost toppling over without their arms to balance them, relying on strong hands that gripped their bound arms. Light blurred their vision as the black hood was yanked away.
"Well well, if it isn't Villain in the flesh." Supervillain was sat facing them, leaning back as they took a drawl of their cigarette, smirking.
"Let me go Supervillain. I don't work for you anymore." Villain twisted their shoulders, trying to get out of the henchmen's grips.
"Yes, I know. You're a 'good guy' now or something, right? Going after thieves and petty criminals. Don't you miss having a challenge?"
"Do I miss getting the shit beat out of my every week by hero league? Funnily enough, no."
Supervillain tutted. "Language, Villain. I taught you better than that."
Villain couldn't help but laugh. Kidnapping civilians was fine, blowing up buildings was fine, but cursing? No, that was too far for the greatest villain in the city.
A punch to the face had Villain's eyes and nose watering. Or was it blood making their upper lip damp? One of the henchmen stepped back, fists ready to make another move should they act out of line.
"Let's cut to the chase, Villain." Supervillain stood up, sucking slowly on their cigarette, almost completely burnt away by this point. "You know why you're here."
"I haven't told hero league anything-"
"Shhh..." Supervillain was right in front of them now, one hand cupping their cheek. "I know you haven't. Because you know what I'd do to you if you did. No, no, no. The question I have for you is how much pain will it take before you agree to work for me again?"
Villain just shook their head, fear settling into their bones. They had never meant to become a villain. They had just wanted revenge against Hero. Supervillain had helped them with that but now they wanted their life back, they didn't enjoy it the way villains had to.
"Such a pity." Supervillain tugged open their shirt and put their cigarette out on Villain's collarbone. "But I can't-" they continued over Villain's sobs, "-have my employees defecting. It's bad for moral."
"Please..."
"Hush now, Villain. We'll have plenty of time to talk down in the cells." Supervillain said, raising Villains head to theirs with a single finger. "When you've had time to evaluate your choices."
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CW: living weapon, forced to watch (listen?), light dehumanisation
Whumpee looked at the ranking with relief. Fourth. Still in the top five. That was all that mattered to them now, staying in the green zone.
"Three, Four, with me." Whumpee stiffened at the sound of their commander's voice but quickly fell in step beside Three, not sparing a glance at their fellow soldier.
Whumpee knew what exactly what they were doing when they exited the elevator into the lowest floor of the compound. Their footsteps echoed against the damp concrete walls, shadows barely taking form in the dim fluorescent lights.
The commander stopped outside the closest steel door, a quick nod all the instruction they needed.
Three quickly went to work on the deadbolts, pulling each one back with a slam. Whumpee tried to calm the pounding in their chest as the door opened and the pair went in, heading straight for the shivering figure huddled on a cot against the back wall.
One didn't look up as they went for him, jaw trembling from more than just the cold as Whumpee gripped his left arm.
"Please," One whispered. "Please, no..."
It was only when they started to drag him out of the cell did One start to resist, feet digging into the floor, strong arms (too strong) pulling back against Three and Four.
"No! Please, don't!" He was screaming now and it took all of Whumpee's strength to keep hold of him as they dragged him towards the furthest room, the commander already opening the door.
Whumpee half stumbled as One yanked violently against them seeing the chair in the centre of the room, his shouts turning into sobs. Whumpee bit the inside of their cheek.
He won't remember it. It's for his own good. It's just a job.
It was like a mantra in their head, a selfish reminder that they didn't have a choice, that they weren't a monster.
This was the hardest part, getting him into the chair. One thrashed, catching Whumpee in the jaw. Three already had their side restrained and helped shove One's shoulders back as Whumpee struggled to hold his arm down long enough to secure the thick metals cuffs.
With his arms finally immobilised the rest was easier: ankles first, then the strap across his chest, and finally his head.
Whumpee looked to their commander, who jutted their head towards the door. Get out. They couldn't leave fast enough, even if it meant the next stage would come so much sooner.
Three closed the door after them, not bothering to lock it before taking position standing guard.
Whumpee matched their stance on the other side of the door, arms behind their back, feet planting firmly. Silently they braced themselves for the screaming.
It didn't take long. One's screams were raw and feral, cutting through the silent corridor and Whumpee's conscience like a scalpel. They swallowed the bile that threatened in their throat.
Did Three hate this as much as them?
Somehow they doubted it. Three had never shown any sign of a conscience, or morals at all for that matter. Whumpee supposed that was why they were higher on the ranking.
The screaming was more ragged now, choked and hoarse. They'd heard it enough times to know that they were around the fifteen minute mark. Another fifteen and it would be over.
Whumpee knew the routine well. They just didn't know why it happened. One was the best: the most efficient, the most ruthless, the most powerful, the most loyal. At least for three weeks. And then it was like he turned into another person, a person who didn't enjoy hurting others or taking orders. And then they'd bring him down here and the whole cycle would start again.
If you did that they'd decommission you.
But Whumpee wasn't the best. Whumpee wasn't even the second best. Whumpee was fourth. Barely above Five, barely staying in the green zone of warm showers and palatable food.
If you were number one they wouldn't need to do this to you.
The screams were now ragged gasps, quickly getting swallowed by the steel door until only the sound of flickering fluorescence lingered in the corridor.
A few moments later and the door opened, the commander stalking past Whumpee and Three without a second glance. They didn't waste time before heading inside.
One was limp in the chair, breathing shaky and uneven, eyes rolled back under half-closed eyelids. They undid the restraints quickly, pulling One's arm around their shoulder and heaving him upright, dragging the dead weight man out of the room, his feet trailing uselessly behind him.
They headed towards the elevator, past the open door of the cell they had first dragged him from kicking and screaming. Whumpee wasn't sure if they preferred One's unnatural silence.
Upstairs, Whumpee and Three deposited One in his room, the regular one that wasn't kept freezing cold. Three left without a second glance but Whumpee lingered for a second, watching One's chest rise and fall.
Was it not enough? Being the best? Whumpee told themselves they didn't understand why the commander had to keep breaking One. Why One kept defying his superiors. Why he couldn't just accept the privileges that came with being the best.
He's holding onto his humanity. Just like you gave yours up to be number four.
Apologies this is another dialogue heavy one but I couldn't get this conversation out of my head
Masterlist
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CW: recaptured, ref to past captivity and torture, ref to suicide
The cellar was just as cold and damp as she remembered. Marcus had made a habit of locking her down here whenever she tried to run away, so she'd always worn one too many layers so she'd have something to use as a pillow.
This time she didn't have any extra layers. Just a pair of jeans and a baggy t-shirt with some band she only half recognised on it in fading colours.
At some point she must have fallen asleep, too practiced at finding comfort on hard surfaces, though it didn't stop her already bruised body from aching even more.
The bright light of day silhouetted Evangeline in the doorway as a plastic bottle hit Rowena's leg.
"Drink up."
"You sure you're allowed to give me that?" Rowena groaned, picking it up and sniffing the water.
"If it wasn't clear by now, Marcus doesn't want you dead. Tired, cold, hungry, whatever. But not dead."
Rowena sighed, shuffling back to lean against the wall, bottle of water held loosely in her hands. "I can't do this again, Eva."
"Do what? Work for him or fight him?" Evangeline crossed her arms.
"Either? Both?" She sighed, rubbing her face. "I was just starting to have a normal life. Why-"
"Because life's not fair." Evangeline interrupted. "So suck it up and make your choice. You can try to comply with Marcus, or you can fight this. I know which one I'd choose."
"Yeah well, you never had to worry about complying, you were always the favourite. Perfect Evangeline could never do anything wrong, could she?" Evangeline stiffened almost imperceptibly and Rowena knew she'd fucked up. "Sorry. That was-"
"Urgh, don't bother. I hate pity more than I hate split ends." Rowena huffed a laugh. "Just don't pretend it's my fault you couldn't follow basic fucking rules."
"You broke the rules all the time!"
"Only the ones I knew I could get away with." Evangeline said with a smirk. "And missing curfew is miles away from refusing to complete a contract. Or run away."
Rowena winced at the memory - screaming bloody mary as Marcus dragged her down the cellar steps, leaving her there for a whole week with nothing but a few bottles of water and a bucket to piss in. Waiting for the door to open and the pain to begin.
"Shit." Evangeline interrupted her reminiscence. "Come on, let's go. I may be the perfect favourite but I don't want to keep his majesty waiting."
Rowena groaned, tilting her head back against the wall, eyes closed. Nearly every part of her was bruised from her fights with Evangeline, and it seemed every one of them decided to speak up at once. The thought of more pain - more injuries - on top of that seemed unbearable. You used to take worse pain than this. It was an uncomfortable realisation.
Evangeline coughed. "Do I have to drag you?" When Rowena made no move she started forward.
"Okay! Okay. I'm- I'm getting up, hold on."
___
To Rowena's surprise they didn't go to the training hall but instead to Marcus's study.
It would have been more suited to history professor than an internationally renown assassin were it not so spotless. Not a hint of dust on the dark panelling, every book uniform and organised by topic - even the carpet by the window wouldn't dare fade.
Marcus didn't look up from his paperwork. It was intentional; designed to make her wait for him to tell her to sit down. Fuck that. Rowena plonked herself down on the chair already positioned in front of the heavy walnut desk.
"I can come back later if you're busy." When he just kept writing, Rowena pushed the chair back slightly and put her feet on his desk as casually as possible, heart racing.
Marcus paused, grip tightening on his pen as he looked at her, only his eyes moving. Slowly, painfully slowly, he raised his head, gently placed the pen in its designated holder, and leaned back.
"There are two ways to have this conversation." His tone could have been mistaken as casual if not for the slight edge underlying it. "It is your choice where you want to continue it."
Rowena slid her feet off the desk. "I'm not going to turn you in to the police - I could, but that would require turning myself in too and I've spent enough time in prison, thanks. Not to mention the fact they're too incompetent to catch you in the first place."
"Nevertheless, you remain a security threat."
"Then kill me!" Rowena laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I've always been a failure anyway! Why do you want me back so badly?"
"I don't." Marcus was an emotionless blank slab. "Your... return was not my decision."
Rowena frowned. The only people who could overturn Marcus on something like this was the other leaders of The Organisation. Why would any of them give a shit about her? She'd only ever met two of them excluding the prick sat opposite her, and only one had shown her anything more than a passing interest.
"Which leads me onto the topic at hand. You have two choices-"
"Roll over and be a good dog or get the shit beat out of me until I die?"
"Crudely worded, but yes. If you don't comply I will use force."
"I'll come back and work for you." Marcus nodded but Rowena continued before he could interrupt. "But circumstances have changed, you can't bully me into submission anymore. And I have some conditions. The first being that you're going to answer my fucking questions."
Marcus flexed a hand, eyes boring into Rowena, daring her to admit a bluff. For the first time, Marcus gave in first. "You can ask as many questions as you want, though I cannot guarantee you'll receive any answers."
"If you don't I'll stab myself with your letter opener and bleed out on your carpet." Rowena cocked her head and grinned. It was all in the micro expressions: the slight fear that she actually would, that confirmed Marcus needed to keep her alive. "What happened when I was arrested? What exactly did you know?"
He shifted just a little, folding his hands on the table, tension releasing from his shoulders. "I received a phone call informing me of what had happened shortly after you were arrested. Evangeline was sent to trace the target and a few days later I was informed you had been sentenced to death."
Well that was new information. "I was vaguely aware of the human research facilities and negotiated a deal to have your sentence changed to life imprisonment."
"You should have let them execute me." It was him. It was all his decision. The floor threatened to swallow her up and Rowena braced her head. "Would it really have made a difference if I died in a prison or a lab? Would you have even know?"
"Initially there were plans to renegotiate your release after a year or two, but they were abandoned when you became unresponsive."
The world reeled again, but this time it wasn't from the lack of food and water. Part of it was the way he said it - so casually he could have told her it was going to rain tomorrow. Rowena forced herself to stay calm.
"How, exactly, did you know I was..." she couldn't bring herself to say the word out loud. Broken.
"I received monthly updates on your condition from Rudy Barker."
Evangeline stirred behind her, hiding her surprise with a breathy cough. She stared at Rowena for a moment before looking at Marcus and turning away.
Rowena turned back to Marcus. "I want to read them." He frowned. "The updates he sent you. I want to know what he said."
Marcus opened his mouth to object but thought better of it and nodded tersely. "I'll send you the file. You mentioned some other conditions?"
"Yes, um..." She took a deep breath, recomposing herself. "As I said, the first is transparency. Second: you will not interfere with my personal life. I'm not stupid, I can keep work separate from any socialising I do on my own time.
"Thirdly: I get a say in what contracts I do. Fourth: I want a fifty percent cut of any contracts I do take. And lastly: you will not hurt me ever again. You do not get to break my fingers, burn me, electrocute me, stab me. Ever. Again."
There was silence for a while as Marcus considered it. "Twenty percent."
"Fourty."
"Thirty."
"Done." Neither reached out to shake hands on it.
Marcus thought some more. "I will also reserve the right to use appropriate amounts of discipline in regards to your training."
Rowena leaned forward, fixing him with a hard stare.
Trained from childhood to be a deadly assassin, after a job goes wrong Rowena finds herself a lab rat in the Voscland Human Research Facility, with professional asshole Rudy Barker assigned to keep her in check
The Contortionist and the Bodyguard (abandoned :( )
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So... it's been a while huh? This is pretty light on the whump, but rest assured the next one will have some goodies
CW: controlling whumper, body image talk, ref to past trauma
For the first time in her life, Rowena seemed to be having a stroke of good luck.
Firstly - she had the perfect leverage to use against Evangeline. Secondly - she had successfully narrowed the list of places Paz could be down to only three. And third - Marcus had just given her the perfect excuse to get out of the house for at least a day.
He’d called her into his office the day before, typing away on his computer pretending to be suave and unbothered. At least, Rowena liked to think he was pretending.
“You’re to accompany me to a business meeting next week,” he said flatly, not bothering to look up.
Rowena crossed her arms. “As security or as your lap dog?” That made him pause, if only for half a second.
“Both. It’s one of our locations but I want you to sweep the building half an hour before our guests arrive but keep surveillance on them throughout and check for bugs afterwards.”
“So you’re taking me for a test run? Make sure I’m up to scratch by having me do the most basic fucking things?”
“Language.” Rowena rolled her eyes. Murder was fine but swearing? No, that was too far. “I’ll send you the details you need. Your outfit is over there.” He gestured to a black garment bag draped over a leather armchair.
Rowena kicked her chair back, stalking over and opening it with perhaps a little too much contempt. Inside was a strappy silver satin dress. She didn’t have to turn it over to know it was backless.
“Is this a joke?” She turned back to Marcus. “There’s no way in hell I’m wearing that.”
He looked up with a blank expression. “You will. And you will comport yourself with decorum at the meeting - or do I need to remind you of the consequences?”
Sorry Paz, but some things were just too far. “You can shove your decorum and your dress up your ass.” A twitch in Marcus’s eye let her know she was edging very close to danger. “If you want me to go to this meeting and smile and kiss arse then I get to choose what I wear.” A deadly silence hung between them as the staring contest to end all staring contests took place.
“The dress code is black tie,” Marcus said eventually. “Ankle length. And I have to approve it first.” Rowena held back the urge to grin at her small victory. “Evangeline is going into the city tomorrow, I will be expecting hourly updates from her on your location. You know what will happen if you deviate from your objective.”
“How could I ever forget?” Rowena gave him a twisted smile and turned to leave. Just as she was in the doorway Marcus cleared his throat.
“And Rowena-” she looked back at him, “go to a hairdresser while you’re there. It looks like a dog chewed your hair off.”
__
Evangeline was waiting by the car, looking for all the world like some millionaire’s spoilt daughter.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” She asked, looking Rowena up and down.
She looked down at her hoodie and jeans. “What?”
“It’s like living with some emo teenager, I swear. I have to be seen with you in public, remember?”
“Aw, am I gonna ruin your ‘street cred’?”
“Just… get in the car.”
Once they were a few miles away from the house, Rowena decided it was time to strike.
“So, does Marcus know what you do on your weekends?”
To her credit, Evangeline didn’t miss a beat. “He only cares if I spend too much money. Not that it’s any of his business. Or yours.”
Rowena studied her face for a moment, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. “Really? I would’ve thought he’d be fascinated to know you’re doing pro-bono work.” Evangeline’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “But I guess he probably doesn’t care about sex offenders.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Eva, you can lie better than that. I have to admit, I didn’t take you to be the vigilante justice type-”
Rowena gripped the door handle as the car swerved to the side of the road, the car behind blaring its horn as it sped past them. Before she could get her wits about her there was a knife at her throat.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t just slit your throat right now,” Evangeline spat.
Despite her racing pulse, Rowena forced herself to look calm. “Because you know what he would do to you if you killed me.” The knife eased a little. “And because I think we might be able to help each other.”
Evangeline sat back in her seat. “You fucking bitch. You’re seriously blackmailing me right now?”
“Think of it as mutually assured destruction.” Rowena touched her neck gently, wincing as her fingers came away bloody. It wasn’t serious, but it could certainly raise questions in say a fancy clothes shop or a hairdresser. “Did you have to do that?”
“What’s the big deal? You can just heal it anyway.” Evangeline kicked the car back into gear, dropping her knife unceremoniously into a cup holder.
Rowena didn’t answer her. It was something she had tried very very hard not to think about.
She hadn’t used magic since she woke up in hospital. There was something there - unlike all the times they’d dosed her with whatever drug stripped her of her powers - but it was so distant, like trying to grab something flickering on the horizon. The thought of never being able to reach it… Rowena pushed the thought back down.
Evangeline sighed dramatically. “Alright, you wanted to blackmail me, what do you want in return for your silence?”
“All I need you to do is make sure Marcus thinks I’m with you all day.”
“I’m assuming I really don’t want to know what you’re doing.”
“If I tell you I’m just going shopping will it make you feel better?”
“You’re so lucky I’m driving right now or I’d beat the shit out of you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” Rowena relaxed into the leather seat, watching the fields fly past them. She just had to hope that her good luck held out until the end of the day.
__
Finding a dress, it turned out, was mercifully easy. At first Rowena had toyed with the idea of buying a suit but quickly decided dealing with the fallout from Marcus wasn’t worth it.
The first shop they went to was a complete bust - it seemed every piece of clothing was either backless or sleeveless or both. The second wasn’t much better and Rowena spent more time dragging Evangeline away from a selection of fur coats than looking for dresses. The third was some tiny overpriced brand Rowena had never heard of. At first she thought it would be hopeless as well, until Evangeline called her over to the clearance rack holding a blood red gown.
It was perfect. The fabric was slightly stretchy, a floor length skirt hugging her hips just right, a tasteful slit up the right side. But that was all the skin it revealed; long sleeves and a high neckline concealing all but the scars on Rowena’s face.
Rowena looked at herself in the changing room mirror. She looked… older. She was, of course, physically older, but something about her had definitely changed. The person staring back at her wasn’t a scared teenager anymore. A few months of eating primarily takeaways had added fat where there wasn’t any before and the muscle she had was no longer stringy and desperate.
Marcus would have never chosen the dress. For the first time since he took away from her perfectly imperfect life, Rowena felt powerful.
“Hey, let me see.” Evangeline was hovering just outside. Her expression went through a few stages as Rowena opened the curtain and for a while she just stared, a smile slowly spreading. Finally she opened her mouth. “You need some heels. And a haircut.”
“I need to send a picture to Marcus first.”
“Fine. Look sad. He’s more likely to say yes if he doesn’t think you like it.” Rowena snorted and tried her best to look as miserable as possible while Evangeline took a picture of her. “Slouch more. And don’t look at the camera.” It took a few tries until Evangeline was satisfied.
Just as Rowena came back out of the changing room in her jeans and hoodie (which felt slightly… wrong, now) they got a reply. It will do. That was about the best reply Rowena could hope for.
They paid for it with Marcus’s credit card, half a grand gone in an instant. Evangeline immediately began planning what shoe stores they should go to first but Rowena stopped her when she noticed the time.
“How long are you going to be on your secret mission?” Evangeline asked, arms crossed.
“Not sure. At least a few hours.”
“Wow. Great. That’s so helpful.” Rowena glared at her. “Fine. Meet me at La Ciele at seven. If you’re not there I’m telling Marcus you stole my phone and went to rescue your little boyfriend.”
Panic shot through her like ice. “I’m not-”
“Oh, please. I thought you could lie better than that. There’s only one reason you’d go behind Marcus’s back like this.”
“If you say anything-”
“Relax, it’s just mutually assured destruction.” Evangeline took the dress from Rowena, replacing it with a stack of notes. “Run along; clock’s ticking.”
Rowena threw up a middle finger as Evangeline sauntered away. She was right, though - she had just under seven hours to find Paz, get him somewhere safe, and get back to Evangeline. Rowena raised her hand, signalling a taxi. Let the hunt begin.
Finally writing the next chapter of Land of Liars (see my pinned post 👀👀) but I'm thinking of rewriting the whole thing
The earliest bits of writing I did when I was 16/17 and I'm just not happy with them anymore. Add to that a lot of it was written out of order and is technically still out of order and the whole thing just feels... messy
So... would anyone be interested in a re-written version? I would keep the old one up as well but more as an aside for anyone who wanted to revisit particular bits
(Shameless plug for tropes included: lady whump, snarky defiant whumpee, living weapon vibes, lab whump, two very different whumpers)
