The Huntress

Chapter Twelve

"You mean to tell me that the biggest badass around is afraid of people seeing her naked?" She finally managed to get out between fits of laughter.

I nodded and tried to feign nonchalance. My reddening cheeks, however, destroyed the stoic mask I wore.

"Why?" She asked, studying me intensely. A small smile still rested on her lips, but her expression was otherwise serious.

I hesitated a moment before answering, "I'm self conscious. Alright? I don't like the way my body looks."

"Wow. Even in this new world there are still body image problems," she sighed. "I can't see why you're upset about your body. It seems just fine to me."

I began to shrug my shoulders when Jasmine drew her knife and, in one clean motion, sliced my shirt open.

I gaped at her, mildly impressed that she had done that so quickly. I quickly closed my mouth, however, when she began to tear the now ruined shirt away from my body.

"What are you doing?" I asked, quickly moving away from her.

She sighed and followed me, removing my shirt until I stood in front of her in just my bra and pants.

Once the shirt was gone, she studied me, her eyes focusing in on my breasts which had the angry and red cuts on them.

"What did you do to yourself?" She asked softly, her eyes very sad.

My hands balled into fists at my side. I didn't need her pity. To her, it simply appeared that I had maimed my body. In reality, I was trying to save the world.

"Oh Hunter..." Her voice trailed off into silence as she shook her head.

"Can we move past this and just let me get dressed?"

At my questioning, she turned toward the window which showed the setting sun and nodded, quickly moving behind me to unclip my bra.

I flinched away from her, but she paid me no attention and instead slipped the dress over my head and then pulled down my pants. I felt like a little kid as she adjusted my dress and tossed the bra, the ruined shirt, and the pants into a corner of the room.

"Are you done?" I asked, my voice taking on a hard edge as I moved away from her.

She sighed at me and then took my arm, leading me into the bathroom. She motioned me to stand in front of the mirror and left, returning with a chair which she placed in front of the sink.

"Sit," she commanded, motioning to the chair. I was about to argue, but the hard look in her eyes told me not to. Instead, I complied.

From underneath the sink, Jasmine pulled out a curling iron. I hadn't seen one in years and the sight of it brought back memories of me sitting on the seat of the toilet in the bathroom while my mom curled her hair as she got ready for work.

The memory made my eyes sting with tears which I blinked away. Jasmine, however, saw them and shot me a questioning look.

When I made no attempt to explain why I almost cried, Jasmine began to start on my hair. Her hands were very gentle and calming.

"You know," she said softly as she worked, "my mother was a beautician before all of this started. I had wanted to be just like her."

I looked at her in the mirror and asked softly, "where is your mother?"

"She was killed. A man came into our house right after everything fell apart and he wanted to take me. He told her that I would grow up to be beautiful and I think he wanted to sell me. My mom fought him and stabbed him, but not before he shot her. She died on our kitchen floor protecting me and he got away," Jasmine said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her cheeks were tear stained, but she continued to do my hair, her hands shaking slightly.

"Why are you working here?" I asked. Unlike with Grumpy, I actually was curious. What could possibly make her work for Him? Technically, He was responsible for what had happened to her.

"I trained myself to fight so that I could kill the man who murdered my mother," her voice was cold now. There was no trembling and no sign of the tears that she had just shed.

"I see. But how did you wind up here?"

She looked at me before saying, "I attacked two guards with a shard of glass. The third one took me to Him to determine my fate. Rather than get upset, He decided to keep me around and I was trained as a guard. I was fifteen at the time and on my sixteenth birthday, I took my oaths and became a member of the guard. I still haven't found the son of a bitch who killed my mother, but working here isn't bad. I have access to technology and I never go hungry."

"You actually like it here?" I asked, my face showing disgust.

"Of course I do. He is a fair man and He treats us well. I'm sure you'll come to like him. Now stay still so I don't burn you. I'm almost done."

I tried to wrap my head around what she had just told me. She actually liked Him? That was absurd. He was a murderer. He got off on the pain of others. Jasmine had clearly been brainwashed and I was probably going to be too...

Jasmine finished curling my hair and then pulled out a make up bag from under the sink. She pulled out some eyeliner and mascara and told me to hold still as she applied it. After it was applied, she handed me some lip gloss which I smeared across my lips as Jasmine left, sighing at the silliness of this all.

Why was I being forced to dress up? I was not a doll... Or was I? Jasmine had told me earlier that I was a trophy and I frowned.

That was why I had to dress up. I had to show that I was reformed and that He owned me. I screwed my face up in disgust and then sighed. I would just have to play this game.

When Jasmine returned, she was carrying an assortment of jewelry. In her left hand she held silver bracelets and on her right hand, a silver chain with a heart shaped pendant. It was adorned with diamonds and sapphires and she clasped the necklace around my neck, her hands lingering near the base of my throat.

I looked at her and she smiled slightly before placing the bracelets around my wrists. Once she was done, and backed away.

"Are you ready?" She asked, watching me with an expression I couldn't place.

I sighed and nodded, standing up. I caught my reflection out of the corner of my eye and frowned slightly. I almost didn't recognize myself. But my eyes remained the same as they always did and I quickly followed Jasmine as she left.

She and I made quite the pair. Her hair was black while mine was almost white and her skin was dark while mine was very pale. And she fought for Him while I fought against Him.

I wondered distantly if that would change, but the thought was quickly erased as we passed the painting with the little girl. I doubted any amount of brainwashing could make me forget why I had become the Huntress.

Harlow.

The name caused my chest to ache and I clenched my jaw. I was doing this for her and everyone like her.

With a new purpose, I continued on toward the dining hall, following Jasmine.

Finally, we stopped and she looked over at me before nodding her head and pushing the doors open.

I reminded myself of why I was doing this and entered only to be blinded by a flash.

Camera.

I blinked my eyes and realized that was right. Five people held cameras and I smiled politely at them which caused them to take more pictures, the flashes causing black dots to obscure my vision.

Just as my sight returned to me, I felt an arm wrap itself around my waist. It was Him. I smiled tightly as more flashes erupted.

This is what I signed up for, I reminded myself. I could do this.