Alright it has been wayyyy too long...So...because I can't seem to write anything in order I'm posting the couple of chapters I'm workshopping in here as is. Feedback is welcome and a lot of this is subject to change. Massive trigger warning for SA, nothing graphic but alluded to. Tbh I haven't decided how far things go, but maybe we leave that to the imagination. I'll notate where the trigger warning begins. Anyway here goes something.
Segment 1:
Claire strode down the halls she had first walked eight years ago, next to the very same redhead who had once been a tourist alongside her. The redhead walked with more purpose now, she’d grown taller and more muscular, her freckles had faded with the exception of a charming speckling across her shoulders and chest. Her turquoise eyes sparkled as she filled Claire in on all the latest ACME gossip, waving cheerfully at her many colleagues. She seemed content, well liked, and very grown up. Claire couldn’t help but feel envious that the younger girl seemed already to have found her place in the world. But envy was swiftly brushed away by Ivy’s next snide remark, and the two erupted into childish giggles as they strode, arm and arm, down the hall.
“And here we have our brand new K9 unit,” Ivy remarked, her voice still shimmering with the remnants of laughter. She led her friend through the glass doors into the large room lined with kennels. A petite girl of about fourteen with amber eyes and a bleached mane of afro curls shouted orders in German at a sleek black lab, her stern expression softening into a glowing smile at the pup’s obedience. Handing the eager animal a treat, she turned to face the visitors.
“Hey Ivy! Meet Rico, he’s made exceptional progress in his first week. Rico, salute!” At her command, Rico sat on his hind legs and raised a front paw clumsily to his snout.
“Audrey, he’s precious!” Ivy cooed, leaning forward to scratch the eager dog behind the ears.
“This is my old friend, Claire,” she continued, standing back up, much to the chagrin of her new friend. “I’m showing her around the place.”
Audrey shook hands with the older woman, grinning mischievously, “Well you came at the right time if you want a show, our senior trainer, Joe, is finishing bath time with Stretch,” she pointed at the glass-paneled back wall, beyond which a yard area was laid out with a few large pens, a training obstacle course, and in the foreground, a large plastic tub contained a floppy-eared bloodhound.
Joe, a young man appearing to be in his early twenties, was hosing the soapy water off the disgruntled dog, and his muffled words of encouragement could be heard over the spray of the water. Finally finished, Joe helped Stretch out of the tub, attempting to towel him down, but not before the dog shook himself violently, sending a spray of water all over Joe and soaking his shirt. He laughed, while attempting to scold a very self-satisfied looking Stretch, before walking over to the fence post of the nearest pen and grabbing a spare shirt that had been flung over the wall in preparation. Audrey chuckled in the direction of her company before turning her attention back to her canine trainee.
“Don’t drool, you’re worse than the dogs!” Ivy teased, elbowing Claire in the ribs gently…by Ivy’s standards.
Claire winced and playfully shoved herself into Ivy’s shoulder, rolling her eyes, “I am not drooling. I’m observing your diligent co-worker.”
Joe pulled the damp shirt over his head, replacing it quickly with a new one, and adjusting his long, wavy hair into a new bun.
“He totally knows we are here, what an exhibitionist!” Ivy remarked, “The girls here are all over him, but personally I don’t get it.”
Claire pulled her gaze away from the bloodhound and his handsome wrangler, facing her friend, “Right…well I never really assumed he was your type,” she replied coyly.
“Point taken,” Ivy replied with a soft snort, “come on, I’ll introduce you to the Chief, and believe me when I tell you there is nothing I can say to prepare you for that experience!”
***
Trigger Warning begins now
Segment 2:
Claire struggled to keep her vision from going black, but even with the adrenaline raising her chronically low blood pressure, her racing heart left her dizzy and disoriented. That, along with whatever had been used to knock her out and cause the throbbing lump she could feel forming on the back of her head. She took a moment to assess her situation, her hands were tied behind her back around a pillar, her feet free but tied at the ankles. In the cold, stone room, Lee paced, each step full of angst. A few henchmen sat in various corners, looking both bored and nervous, watching their unpredictable boss, trying to mentally prepare for his next mood swing.
“She should be here by now!” Lee said, his first pounded against the fireplace mantle.
A blonde henchman flinched, “maybe she knows it’s a trap, boss, maybe she’s not coming?”
Lee growled, turning to face his employee, “oh she’ll be here alright. Carmen is soft, sentimental.”
“But don’t you think she’s learned her lesson?”
“You really are as dumb as you look,” Lee said with a look that lingered somewhere between a scowl and a smirk. “Carmen is so caught up in her own twisted morality that she’s left herself no choice. And if she doesn’t come for her helpless baby sister, she leaves us with all the power to destroy her reputation.”
Lee took a few paces toward Claire, eyeing her like a jungle cat toying with its prey, “You know what they say about women without a stable father figure. You really can’t trust them to behave rationally. They’ll beg for any male attention they can get. Carmen had been waiting her whole life for a man to tell her who she is. I guess I have you to thank for enlightening us with this fascinating research, Claire.”
Dropping a Manila folder, he kicked the papers across the room and they landed at Claire’s feet. Her research notes on Carmen’s complex relationship with father figures spilled out around her, and Claire hung her head in shame and frustration at Lee’s gross oversimplification.
Lee continued, “all I’d have to do is degrade her a little worse than Maelstrom and she’d practically be calling me daddy.”
“You’re disgusting,” Claire shot back, glaring at the audacity of the criminal in front of her.
Lee cracked his knuckles, “I guess that might ruin the whole cougar thing she’s got going, but hey, at least she had every reason to assume she had no one. Avalon thought his first daughter was dead, but he chose to neglect you. You must have been utterly desperate for attention… I bet those abandonment issues manifest beautifully in the bedroom. We should really ask that fiancé of yours,” he was standing over Claire now, a lecherous grin on his face, he leaned over, yanking Claire’s head up by her hair so her gaze met his.
Sinking down against the pillar, Claire leaned back and lifted her bound legs, sending Lee reeling back with a swift kick to the crotch. Furious, the man attempted to regain his balance, swearing loudly.
Striding back over to Claire, he growled, “You’ll pay for that, fucking whore!” His gloved hand wrapped around her throat,
And Claire gasped for air, desperate to writhe free of Lee’s grasp. Explosions of color began to cloud her version as the inky blackness overtook her sight completely. She felt the henchman pull Lee off of her, although her brain heard only muffled sounds of protest, no longer conscious enough to register words. Oxygen flooded Claire’s lungs, but she was almost too tired to breathe it, and in spite of herself, she lost consciousness.
***
Trigger warning over, mild one for implied trauma in the next segment
Segment 3:
Claire was awake but practically catatonic as Carmen pulled her into the helicopter, unable to afford the young woman the delicacy her potential injuries required.
From the pilot seat, Clayton Durry called out, “All set back there?”
“Just fly!” Carmen barked, as shots rattled against the metal frame of the escape vessel.
Sara Bellum, seated next to Clayton, looked over her shoulder, her overt concern hidden behind her goggles. Carmen appeared to be gently checking Claire for breaks and bruises, as verbal inquiries yielded no response. Sara averted her eyes solemnly as Carmen wrapped Claire in her infamous red coat. Seeing Carmen remove her coat somehow felt more scandalous than if she were to undress completely. The ride was bumpy, the low altitude of their flight was efficient but not exactly smooth. Carmen held Claire steady, eyes wide with fear and concern. Utter disregard for her cool facade was rare, and her employees knew better than to call attention to it.
“Sara!” Carmen shouted over the rumble of the engine, “when we land she needs medical attention immediately!”
Sara did well with commands, it stabilized her. “Dr. Scope should be at base as soon as we land. I’ll alert him of our ETA.”
Carmen began to nod, but one look at the traumatized woman beside her gave the thief pause.
She blinked slowly, pursing her lips together, “Wait, is Anna at headquarters today?”
Puzzled, Clayton frowned, “Dr. Thesia? She hasn’t practiced in years. Seth is your most trusted V.I.L.E. physician!”
“Call Anna. Now. Please.” Carmen’s voice was cold, abrupt, and dangerous.
Sara, usually avoidant of physical touch, placed a hand on Clayton’s arm as she punched the buttons on her communicator with the other. He knew better than to ask follow up questions. If even Sara could read the subtext of the conversation it must be serious.
Sara shot Carmen a knowing glance, her metal eyewear doing little to hide the sharp, familiar fury both women shared. All women, really.
“Dr. Thesia is standing by, Carmen. Landing in T minus 14 minutes.”
