"I'm hungry."
"Your food should be here soon."
"But I want it now."
"Julia, I think you can wait a little bit longer." Zane sighed from outside of her cell, sitting on a chair directly in front of the locked door. Her body rested on the cot, her fingers brushing the dusty ground as she swiped them across. She stared at the disassembled, wooden pieces that had originally been a chair until Zane threw it at a wall, utterly destroying it.
"I haven't eaten since this morning!" She cried, her eyes narrowed at him now. "It's probably late afternoon, early evening, and I still haven't eaten a single meal. I'm starving. Feed me."
"You know, Samil wanted to starve you at first, but he decided he didn't care enough to." Zane muttered to her, rolling his eyes. "You do things at his pace, Julia. Even if that means missing meals. You have it a lot better than some people we've dealt with before."
She stared at him; her voice clogged up in her throat.
"Samil has brought multiple people here already, huh." She said to herself quietly, biting her lip and shaking her head. "What did he do to them?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to." Julia remained silent, temporarily giving in to his desire of keeping hush about something that she'd rather be attentive of. However, there wasn't much else to do besides oblige with the people imprisoning her.
It was about half an hour later when footsteps were finally heard from the long, dim hallway that led to the stone staircase. A man she'd never seen before appeared once he passed the doorway, the wall lights causing the shadows on his face to angle sharply. One eye was brown while the other was a forest green.
His cold green and brown orbs travelled over the surfaces of the walls and floors until they landed in her cell. Then, he proceeded to casually walk in and hand her a tray of food, which surprisingly looked edible.
"Thank you." Her voice was so small, she wasn't even sure whether she said it or not. But by the slight nod of his head, he confirmed that she had. He immediately left the room, greeting Zane with another bob of his head. The stillness in the air felt like a heavy blanket, stiffening her muscles due to how awkward things had turned out to be.
Julia always thought that she could go on with her life pretending nothing happened between Zane and her, but it suddenly struck her that it wasn't as easy as some people made it out to be. Without a doubt, betrayal had a lot to do with it.
As she said before, though, she couldn't blame him.
Clearing her throat, she dug into her plate of proportionally challenged food. She was still grateful for them to even consider giving her food, since she'd heard about Red's experience of being caught by an enemy once and held in a chamber for a full month, practically starving her. They'd only given her about two or three meals a week, so she had basically lived off water.
She shuddered at the thought of her being treated that way every single time—Red was already so skinny and had an abnormal eating schedule, so Julia could only imagine the impact it had on her health.
Shoveling her spoon into the small bowl of white rice, she savored the heat from it. The cubicle they held her in had a bipolar way of haphazardly changing temperatures. It never stayed in the middle; it was either way too hot, or below freezing. At this time, her upper body was enveloped by her hoodie and leather jacket, the articles of clothing not sufficient enough to provide heat for her shivering form.
Once she quickly consumed the rice, she picked up a fork and broke apart the meat cutlet that sat on a plate with mixed vegetables. Whether the food was truly edible or not, it was hard to say from the hunger that willed her to inhale anything in sight.
Peeking into the tiny mug on the corner of the tray, she deemed it to be coffee and sniffed at it. The brown liquid smelled sweet and before she took a sip at it, Julia shrugged and cleared her throat. When her tongue met with the substance, she nearly gagged.
"This tastes like sweetened, watered-down mud." She squeaked, shaking her head, shuddering, and placing the cup gently back on the tray. Her brain knew very well that she wanted to throw the cup of seemingly dangerous chemical coffee across the room, but she behaved. "Can I have some water though? I'm really thirsty." Zane picked up a full, unopened water bottle from only-god-knows-where before tossing it at her, accurately going through the metal bars. She caught it.
"Thanks." She muttered before uncapping it and chugging the whole thing down.
"It couldn't have been that bad." Zane insisted when he saw her gulping down the pure liquid, his eyebrows furrowed. "I had some last time I was here."
"I think I baby barfed a little." She stated dryly, swallowing to get rid of the disgustingly bitter taste. "Yep, definitely did." With widened eyes, he opened her door and entered the small space before picking up the tray, staring into the muddy pool of insipid coffee. Hesitating at first, he finally brought out the nerve to bring his lips to the rim before tipping the mug slightly. A sound that resembled closely to violent retching ripped through his throat and he pulled the cup as far away from him as humanly possible.
"What the hell is that?" He questioned, staring at the thing with horror.
"Got the words right out of my mouth." Scoffing, he dropped the mug back onto the tray and left the cell, disappearing down the hallway. She sat on the bed, patiently waiting for her guard to come back. When 15 minutes passed, she began to whistle and swing her legs back and forth, her head cocked as she watched the tongue of her boot slightly sway.
Footsteps were heard from the end of the hallway, and while she expected a mop of brown hair to appear, she had gotten black instead. Matthew grabbed the stool that Zane had been occupying before dragging it into her cell and closing the door.
"Is it your shift already?"
"A bit earlier than planned, but Samil needed to get a hold of Zane for something."
"Oh." She replied awkwardly, nodding her head once before turning her attention back to her boots. When the sounds of rustling hit her ears, she peeked from under her bangs at the area where it came from. Matthew was pulling out a packet of mint gum, sliding a stick out, unwrapping it, and popping it in his mouth. He looked up to catch her gaze and with a smirk, he stuck it forward.
"Want one?"
"Sure, why not." She took a piece and removed the wrapper, placing the piece of gum on her tongue. Crumbling up the silver wrapper, she chucked the ball at Matthew and brought her legs up to her chest. It was a position that she frequented often while staying with Mortifer—or whatever else they were called. Suddenly remembering something, her head shot to Matthew.
"What?" He immediately asked when he saw her staring intently at him, cocking an eyebrow at her. "You like to stare a lot, don't you?"
"Why were you at Spinam Manor?" She questioned quickly, getting up and inching towards him. He didn't make a move to step away, nor did he make an effort to answer her. She pressed on. "Why were you there?"
"I was waiting for you." He answered easily, sliding his hands into his pockets. Her heart skipped a beat at the confession, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"How long had you been there?"
"Long before you two came along." He admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "I'd been watching you the whole time, Julia. It was amusing how neither of you even noticed me standing behind you." An involuntary shiver struck at her spine, causing goose bumps to appear on her flesh. He'd been stalking them the whole time, and they hadn't even felt his presence. It was as if Matthew had been a phantom haunting them, silently gliding near the two and scrutinizing their every single move.
"You knew I'd go there..."
"And you proved me right," he confirmed, slinking his gaze to connect with hers. "I was sure you'd be looking for answers there, so I gave them to you." She blinked at his words, processing their meaning. Then, it dawned on her.
"The translations I found—you'd planted them there." Julia scoffed, frustrated with the fact that he'd been toying with her the entire time. A part of her had found it unbelievable that Virtus had missed such an important clue during their raid, but it never occurred to her that it'd been put there right before she showed up. "Why?"
"Dramatics." Matthew answered, his tone bored. "Solely for Samil's enjoyment. He needed to ensure you'd decrypt his message." She clenched and unclenched her jaw, pondering for a moment before continuing with her questions.
"How did your team get rid of everything in that room?" Julia was afraid to inquire, but she did, nonetheless. "We had informed my agency as soon as we stepped out of that Manor. How did you do it?"
"Hm...can't say."
"Of course, you can't." She hissed, shaking her head and running her hands through her hair. "That room down in the basement—why have something like that?" When the last words fell out of her mouth, Matthew took a few moments to really look at her, connecting his intense gaze with her probing one.
"Every branch has a room like that. It's where we take special victims to add to the collection." He started off coldly, his eyes void of emotion. "We use the blood samples held in the room to stain our roses."
"Anthony Palmero." Julia murmured to herself, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why does Mortifer do that, anyway? The roses, I mean."
"It's a cheesy tradition that's always been done, I suppose. It started with the founder, who always left a rose behind after killing his victim. The body wouldn't be found for some time, and when opposing agencies or law enforcement eventually did, the rose would already be saturated with their blood." He explained it as if the practice wasn't the least bit strange or sickening. "After a while, when more opposing organizations started to form and train powerful spies and double agents, we ended up saturating the flower before stuffing it somewhere on the body. Since the bodies get recovered quickly, there isn't time for it to be done leisurely."
"You all do it, then?"
"Every agent has their own twist to it." Matthew shrugged. "Zane settled with the original concept since he has a decent sense of hiding bodies. Samil likes to place the rose inside a glass cylinder before thrusting it down the victim's throat. Alive, of course. He likes to see them suffer." Her fingers reached for her neck, gently caressing it when he'd pointed out the minor detail.
"So, Zane has killed before." It was more of a statement of fact than a question, as Julia couldn't see anyone in Mortifer being incapable of ending a life. It was clear that the organization was a heavy one, and from how haunted Zane occasionally looked when he spoke about his life, Mortifer utilized every agent regardless of age. Despite her words, Matthew remained silent, and Julia crossed her arms over her chest to defend herself from the chill settling in her cell. "What's your...twist, on leaving roses behind?"
"I stitch it onto the person's skin." He responded indifferently, digging something out of his pocket before tossing it to her. It was a small, compact case, its black surface inconspicuous. She turned it over before opening it, her eyes meeting with a thick sewing needle and thread. Her eyes widened at the size of it, and she imagined it digging deep into her skin just to attach a tainted plant. "Samil said a thicker needle is better, so I use it."
"Are they dead while you do this?"
He paused.
"No."
She swallowed and nodded slowly before clicking it shut and handing it back to Matthew. Her eyes travelled away from him and landed on her boots once more, her fingers picking at the thread that stuck out at a few parts. Samil's method was without a doubt the most graphic of the three, but having a phobia of needles made her feel that if she was unlucky and was left for Matthew to kill, she'd dread every second of him leaving his rose behind.
Her bones shuddered.
"It doesn't hurt you?" Julia questioned gently, looking up to find Matthew watching her with a hint of surprise forming his features. She thought about Zane and the hatred he felt towards his life. He was a victim of Mortifer in his own right...was Matthew the same? "Committing these acts of cruelty—it doesn't hurt you, Matthew?" Julia started to wonder more about the enigma in front of her, seemingly heartless until an act of gentleness was displayed. She wondered if he was truly as monstrous as his leader, or if he did everything that he could to be that way. Not out of desire, but out of necessity.
For some reason, the thought made her eyes water—it made her soul scream for him and Zane. She didn't know enough about Matthew, but she knew Zane wasn't inherently bad. She knew the things he'd shared with her were as honest as he could admit to her, and it was enough for her to see that they were simply unfortunate enough to be in opposing sides. Julia was able to see that Zane can be a person of love, but life had dealt him a difficult hand, resulting in him making difficult decisions. She couldn't help but feel that the same could apply for Matthew.
His jaw tensed as Julia's words hung in the air, watching her will back the tears that threatened to fall for her enemies with an expression that she could only describe as conflicted. He blinked back at her before finally exhausting a breath, slowly shaking his head in disbelief.
"A word of advice, sweetheart." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, piercing his gaze with hers. "Don't pity the enemy."
She held his stare with unwavering resolve, knowing that what she felt was ridiculous after everything Mortifer had done to her. But understanding the potential of her being only one of its many victims took root in her. It was hard to shake off, even as Matthew sat before her with a haunting expression before muttering his next few words to her.
"It'll get you killed."