His Trophy | Jerome Valeska

forty three

The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar.

Strange. He thought, taking off his waistcoat and unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. The familiar small worm of caution started to wriggle in his chest. Flashes of Rory's previous history came to him as he quietly made his way to the bathroom. He knew that she was desperate.

Jerome only peeked through the gap. He could see her in the bath, massaging product into her hair. Her silhouette was dimly lit by the hanging light, steam curling around her, covering her figure in a protective haze. A small wave of relief fell over him him as he watched her. Jerome still remembered every inch of his Rory. He remembered how her skin would prickle with goosebumps under his touch, how her cheeks would flush when she caught his eye. Jerome had her curves committed to memory. He recalled tracing them with his hands the first night they had spent together, all those years ago. He would follow the valley of her stomach and the rise of her hips over and over, like a priest would with his rosary beads.

The maddman moved away from the door, overcome with a painful longing for the woman he had lost. He looked down at himself, his body buzzing with memory. Since the wedding, the nights the two had spent together were separate. Despite the boundaries he had already broken with Rory, carving and burning himself into her, he did not want to take her completely. Jerome had barely even slept in the same room with his wife. Ever since the death of Rory's nurse, Jerome had realised how easy it was for Rory to lose herself. His visitations to his marital bed were to ensure that Rory wasn't consumed by her grief. Jerome had forgotten that she had once given herself to him completely and that she had enjoyed it. He had forgotten that he did the same. She had seen so many vulnerable moments, so many nights spent with him in her arms. She was the only person alive, aside from himself, which he had love for.

With all the madness, it was easy to forget how much the two of them knew. Jerome had taken Rory with two intentions. The first was obvious: he wanted to exploit her little magic trick. Everything about her, even down to the way she breathed could drive anyone crazy. But the second, he thought, was more selfish. Jerome wanted her because of a childish dream he had had back in the small carnival caravan.

Rory had snuck out to see him, they talked for hours on the roof of his trailer, his mother's snake and the stars being their only other companions. Under the dim light of the colourful circus lights, they had confessed themselves. They admitted secrets and passions that neither of them would even dream to say out loud.

She had whispered them to him as they lay on the roof, their hands clasped, her thumb drawing circles on his.

"Sometimes I think I see something unnerving in myself, something subconscious."

He had asked her to explain more about it.

"I don't know- It's like I have this pit inside of me. Something carnal and uncontrollable. Whenever I catch a glimpse of it, I get this overwhelming feeling of dread..."

She shrugged, and turned to look at the sky.

"I feel like if I were to chase that feeling... I- I think I would go insane."

In the moment, Jerome hadn't said anything, he had only looked up at the sky with her and squeezed her hand. But he had understood her, because he too had felt it. He had felt this pit when he was fighting with his mother, or when he was getting beaten. He would be standing on a cliff and he was so close to falling off, all he could do was anticipate his fall. In that moment, he imagined Rory waiting next to him, holding his hand.

Jerome had fallen from that edge when he had killed his mother and he had thought that killing Rory's insufferable ex-boyfriend would've pulled her down with him. But she had stayed on the edge and leaving him to fall into the pit alone. The time Jerome spent in Arkham, had made him realise that he needed to do a lot more to get her to step over that edge. He had vowed to himself that he would do whatever needed to be done, to ensure that she joined him in his pit of madness.

Rory moved in the water. Jerome remained where he was for a second, listening to the sound of the water hitting the sides of the bath. He ran a hand through his hair and realised that, somehow, he had started to cry. He wiped his face, then went to grab the waist coat he had left on the bed.

Before Rory came into the bedroom, Jerome had left.

#

Rory didn't know what to do with herself. The bath had helped clear her mind. Her words still rang true in her head. Lola wouldn't have wanted this. She had added to them, whilst shampooing her hair. My father wouldn't have wanted this. It was refreshing for her to feel the familiar burn of determination.

She put on one of the pajama sets left in the wardrobe and wrapped her hair in the towel. Rory then grabbed a magazine, given to her by one of Jeromes men as a form of entertainment, and tried to find a pen. She needed some way of organising herself before executing her plan. In truth, she didn't really know what Jerome expected from her, as a wife. She couldn't quite grasp how being married fell into Jerome's plans, aside from having access to her unfortunate disposition with the insane.

"There you are!" She muttered to herself as she grabbed a biro from one of the cluttered bedside drawers. She opened the magazine and started scribbling down her ideas for escape over a perfume ad. The first thing she wrote was 'PLAY THE PART'. Tetchs words rang through her head as she re-read it. Underneath this, she wrote part of the hypnotists haunting words down. 'Don't ruin the fun.' By playing into her new found relationship status, she would ensure her survival. She had seen how quickly Jerome could get bored of people and she did not want to become next on his disinterested list.

"But how to get out?" she asked herself, tapping the end of the pen against her mouth as she thought. The days events flashed through her mind. Her father's face, his voice. Why had he been there? Jim hadn't known Jerome was going to show up at the maze, he was there for another reason. Maybe that reason could help Rory to get away from Jerome.

She wrote down his name, then underlined it twice. JEREMIAH.

A/N-

..... Happy New Year? Yikes, I really jinxed it by saying more frequent chapter updates. I have more time on my hands so hopefully more will come soon. I'm sorry for not getting this chapter out sooner, but a lot of things were happening! For one, I graduated!

This book also recently hit the 160K milestone which is absolutely insane! Thank you for all the love for this story, even though I am a terrible updater. It really means the world that so many of you are enjoying this silly fanfic. :)

Again, sorry for such a long break!

- R. x