Hero & Villain

Jodie | 1339w

I have to admit, Falcon is not like what I expected. He seemed frightened and almost smaller when he first stepped in front of Lance, but then he changed, and became more like what I expected. I'm still not sure where his wings are, though if my most recent intel is correct they disappear when he's not using them.

I'll have to ask him about it later, once we're in a secure location. I fully expect Lance to follow me to the Guild, so obviously I can't stay there.

I shiver as I remember the look he was giving me. I've annoyed him a fair share of times, as everyone else has. I've also seen him mad after getting a mission, when his eyes glow blue and he's no longer the same. But never have I seen him so enraged as a few minutes ago. His eyes weren't even glowing, and I'm genuinely shocked he didn't kill me right then.

He must really not want Falcon to know he is Macer. I still can't believe Lance was harboring Falcon. So many times he would stop by the Guild to rant and rave, telling us how Falcon caught him doing something again, and how he should have just crushed Falcon's skull when he had the chance.

A few times we've cut in and said we could band together and get rid of Falcon, as he was annoying to us all, but Lance would always just glare and shake his head sharply. So we never did.

  Lance isn't technically the Guild's leader, but what he says goes. It's an unspoken understanding that he's the most powerful of us all, and could level the place with us in it, if he so wished. Thankfully he never has, but I fear I may have just given him reason to.

I skid to a stop in front of the Guild's entrance; a nondescript warehouse. Johnny is in his usual place, smoking a cigarette as he waits for everyone to return.
I roll my window and he must see the mildly panicked look in my eyes, because he's instantly more alert.

"What is it?" he asks, flicking his cigarette away.

"I got him," I say, and continue in a low voice before Johnny can interrupt. "Lance was not happy about it," I give him a significant look.

His eyebrows fly up. "He...?"

I simply nod in answer. "I'm out of here, and I suggest you go too before he gets here."

With that I step on the gas again, speeding away. "You're wrong if you think Lance is going to do anything," I hear from my backseat, and in my surprise I look back to see Falcon curled into a corner, his temple resting on the window.

"And why is that?" I sneer mockingly, not actually expecting an answer, though I get one anyway.

"All I've done is cause him trouble. It's my fault his house got trashed and it's my fault you even showed up in the first place!" He spits vehemently.

I turn my gaze back to the road so as not to show my shock. It's silent for a few minutes before he speaks up again. "So I'm getting taken somewhere special to be tortured? The Guild wasn't good enough?" His voice doesn't show anger anymore, just a drab sort of acceptance.

"Well obviously I didn't want to be interrupted by my colleagues," My eyes narrow as I drive out of the city.

Something just seems odd about this whole Lance taking in Falcon thing. I know for a fact those two would bite each other's heads off if they ever got the chance to talk, so what could possibly convince Lance to harbor him? And then actively go out and search for him? There are too many unbelievable factors, and I don't like not knowing things.

"I've been tortured before," Falcon pipes up with about five minutes before we make it to my hideout.

I roll my eyes, wondering what the hell could have happened to a Hero that was so bad. "Sure, Love," I drawl, letting my voice drop lower, closer to its normal register. In my mirror, I notice Falcon flinch ever so slightly at the nickname. A smirk makes its way across my features. I just found one of his weaknesses.

"Well Dear, we have arrived," I flounce out of my car, more relaxed now that I know Macer didn't follow us.

I haul Falcon out of the backseat, then shove him in front of me and keep my pistol pressed to his back while I lead him inside. He almost trips on my front steps, but I manage to warn him in time for him to avoid it. I did not expect the city's Hero to be this painfully clumsy. If this is what he's like while fighting Macer I don't know how he's still alive.

I only take his blindfold off once he's in the basement, and thus unable to tell where he is as there are no windows or indicators. He blinks rapidly, his light green eyes flicking around in alarm at his surroundings. It's a bare room, the cement covered by wood on all but one wall and the ceiling. It's a big space with several secluded rooms such as a bedroom and bathroom, but no furniture in the big area.

I lead him to the far wall, a little grin appearing on my face as I stop in front of it. When I look at him for a reaction to the shackles, he shows calm everywhere but his eyes, which I could swear are a darker green than before. His gaze darts around for an escape, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly when he doesn't find one. I almost feel bad for shackling him.

I motion with my pistol to the floor, where he reluctantly sits, flinching at the clank of the chains when I pick them up. I clamp them onto his wrists before pulling up his hoodie sleeves to undo his previous bindings. I slow to a stop as I notice the pale marks on his wrists, almost like a barely noticeable scar, as well as darker pink marks right above them. Did Lance tie him up while he had him?

I don't feel so good about mocking him anymore, but I'm not ready to give up on this whole torture gig. Maybe I'll stick to psychological torment for now, I've always been better at that than physical anyway. Which isn't to say afflicted my share of physical torture, I just prefer to break people in other ways.

"I see others have had their fun with you before," I purr right against his ear, chuckling when he cringes away from me. "Now how should I get that hoodie off of you, Sweets?" I muse aloud. Falcon scrambles backwards until he's against the wall, then flips his hood up and curls around his knees.

A few moments later when he flinches out of nowhere, for no apparent reason, I realize he's having a flashback. Curious, I move to sit in front of him with crossed legs.

Really I feel no need to torture Falcon, but I had to chain him up so he couldn't escape. And as for the taunting, well... I can't show him who I really am, he would be able to find me should he somehow escape, and I can't have that.

He mutters unintelligibly under his breath, though I'm able to pick out a few words.

"No... please... hungry... sorry... kitten..." At this word he jerks so violently it must snap him out of his trance, because he stops muttering and I see his shoulders shaking.

What the hell could be so bad that involves kittens?

When one of his shackles shifts and clinks, he jerks upright. His eyes have reverted to a light green, and I watch as his gaze settles on the shackles.

I can't explain my shock when a fragile sounding whine escapes his lips.