Jerome Valeska Imagines

TWELVE | For Lack of a Better Word

"Keep moving," He growled.

He led you out of the bank, your fellow employees watching in horror as he dragged you out of the facility, towards a grey van. Before opening the back doors, he turned you around, harshly pulling your arms behind your back and securing them there with a rope he'd brought with him. He opened the back and shoved you in, patting the side of the van, and closed the back van doors. The van took off almost immediately after the doors closed. You tumbled towards the back, your head hitting the door. Everything happened so fast, you didn't have time to register what just happened. Or why it happened.

You were too shocked to cry, or you just couldn't cry. You couldn't tell anymore, not after what happened.

You were kidnapped a few years ago, and were entered into the human trafficking system where you lived through the worst part of your life. You managed to get out and were found by Jerome who you fell in love with, after learning to trust him.

What if they're trying to get me back, you thought. That thought alone gave you a feeling of dread, different from the feeling you'd get during the time you were stuck in the business.

The van screeched to a halt. The front doors closed, and you moved away from the back doors. You tried to move as fast as you could away from the door. They opened, and two different guys stood there. A larger-built guy climbed in, grabbed your ankle and tried pulling you. You kicked, hitting him in the face.

"Agh!" He exclaimed, holding his nose.

The other guy came in and grabbed both of your legs. You began to squirm but he was more successful in dragging you out. You were pulled out harshly, falling onto the concrete, pain shooting through your face as your cheek collided with the ground. Tears of pain formed in your eye but you fought them back. He pulled you up by your arm.

"MOVE!" He tugged you violently, and you complied. Something hard hit your head, and you fell unconscious.

•~•

You woke up, your hands no longer tied behind your back but handcuffed to a pipe in a cell. You winced in pain, your free hand moving to your face as you touched the area that was bruised from the pavement.

You noticed a guard standing by the cell. You considered for a moment that you were prison but pushed that thought to the back of your head, due to the harsh treatment. What did they want from you?

You heard footsteps of heavy boots, and the guard turned his head and then came to attention.

"Ah, I see you've got the girl," a voice said that was close to the cell.

There appeared a man who you didn't recognize. He looked a little short but looked like he'd been through some tough times. His face had small scars all over.

"I hope you don't mind being in there," He said, then cackled darkly.

You pulled at your handcuffs roughly in anger.

"Aw, look at you," He mocked. "All riled up!"

You glared are him.

"So, tell me about your...roommate," The man said.

You mentally laughed, seeing as how you hadn't spoken a word since before getting roped into the business.

"Not gonna say anything? Really?" He looked at you inquisitively.

He signaled towards the guard who pulled out a key and unlocked the cell door.