literature

Encore: Chapter Sixteen

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ShaylaPlumFairy's avatar
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Literature Text

:bulletpurple: Mina's POV :bulletpurple:

The first thing I noticed was the cold, dark air encircling me.
Then I realized that I had been strapped down onto an operating table, and my side was tight with pain.
Adrenaline overtook me, and I gulped short, shallow breaths as I tried to escape my binds. Where was I? What was I doing here? What had happened?
“Relax,” a voice in the shadows commanded. I didn't—in fact, that made me wriggle more.
Light flooded the room, leaving me temporarily blinded. I cried out in alarm, blinking to get my eyes adjusted.
Two nurses and a doctor stepped towards me, dressed in scrubs. I tugged one last time, recognizing the crest of Arkham Asylum on their shirt pockets.
“It's okay,” the doctor prompted as she unlatched me from the table. “I ran a scan of your systems. You didn't have any trace of irregular brain activity, so we think you're clear.”
“...Irregular brain activity?”
She looked at me with a pitying smile as one of the nurses clarified. “The Music Meister's hypnotism. We were told that you'd been hypnotized, Miss Todd.”
I sat up on the table, stretching. “By whom? Who told you?” I winced slightly as my back popped.
“The Batman. He said that you were a victim of circumstance.”
Yeah, right, a victim of circumstance who kicked Batman in the cowl, I thought, rubbing my wrists. But why would he lie to the Arkham Asylum workers if he had it in for me?
“Miss Todd?” The other nurse asked, touching my arm. I flinched away.
“I'm fine,” I lied. “It's a lot to take in.”
The doctor smiled. “Don't worry. You're safe now. Two-Face had been detained in his cell, and we removed the bullet from your stomach.”
Two-Face was the one who shot me? I rested a hand on my stomach and noticed, to my disgust, that I was wearing the light gray pants and high-necked shirt of the Arkham-issued uniform. With trembling hands, I lifted the hem of the shirt just enough to reveal the thick, white bandages that covered my stitches.
The nurses helped me off the operating table and the doctor rested a hand on my shoulder.
Her whisper tickled my ear. “The Batman will walk you down to see the Music Meister.”
Goosebumps rose on my arms as she backed away. “Your friend Aida will be waiting for you in the main office with a change of clothes.”
I nodded in numb shock as I was guided to the door. When it opened, Batman was there; I still felt a slight twinge of annoyance when I saw him, and I noted that I had given him a bruise on his chin from when I kicked him.
I crossed my arms as the nurse closed the door, leaving us alone.
“Here to gloat?” I demanded. “Or is there another reason as to why you're my guide?”
“It's to make sure you stay safe,” He replied,sweeping away. I followed him, still fuming.
We went a while without speaking. I was left to admire the fact that Arkham looked more like a haunted castle than an actual asylum.
“I'm sorry you're here.”
I responded without thinking. “It's my fault. The deal was—!”
“Understandable. But this all began when he was immediately placed on the floor with the most dangerous criminals without a second thought.”
I looked down shamefully, watching the tiles run on beneath our feet. “He told me about his first scheme and his motives, but I still have no idea...why did Two-Face come after us?”
“The Music Meister had hypnotized Two-Face into breaking him out. Two-Face was furious that he had been taken advantage of and wanted justice. It triggered the worse of his personalities to show.”
I stopped in my tracks as grabbed Batman's arm. “How hurt is he!?”
He squinted, trying to read my terrified gaze. “...He's not injured at all.”
We continued down a flight of stairs, and I stayed about three feet behind him so I didn't step on his cape. As funny as it would have been to see him stumble a bit and lose the menacing facade, neither of us would have been prepared for the awkward moment which would have followed.
When we reached the bottom of the flight of stairs, he stopped in front of a door.
“Harvey Bullock wanted him on the highest security level available, but I knew that he would have wanted to make sure you were safe.”
My footing faltered slightly.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You're welcome,” he managed, typing in a passcode near a door. There were a few clicking noises, and the door creaked open.
Instead of seeing the Meister, as I had hoped, the hulking form of Harvey Bullock appeared, backlit against the white room.
“Bats,” He greeted. “The Music Meister's in the hot seat. She has five minutes with him...although why she'd want to see him after he hypnotized her, that's beyond me.”
It had nearly slipped my mind that Batman had lied. I cast a quick glare to him before I was swept into the room and Harvey and Batman disappeared behind the door, leaving me alone with the Music Meister.
His head was lowered to the cuffed hands resting on the table between us. His hair was unkempt, and I subconsciously touched the top of my head. It felt like they had scrubbed it clean with soap: dry and brittle. He smelled vaguely of his leather gloves under that musty scent of Arkham. I took a halting step forward, but he kept his gaze lowered.
“...Hi,” I whispered. He finally looked up, and I noticed so many things his mask had hidden—he had green eyes, surrounded with shadows, and his eyebrows had a permanent cleft in it from constant furrowing. But what shocked me most was the large piece of headgear surrounding his face.
He smirked and chuckled bitterly, pointing to the device. “Like my new accesory? Batman designed it for me.”
I sat down in the sat across from him and reached out to touch the two wires that led from his mouth. “What does it do?”
“The part over my mouth blocks my voice, but a microphone picks it up and transmits the sound to the band around my neck, where the hypnotic frequencies are removed and let out through the speakers.”
I was unnerved. He read my expression and nodded glumly, twiddling his fingers. I put my own hand over his, and noticed the bruises and blemishes on both of our hands.
“Four minutes left!” A voice blared over the loudspeaker. I glowered at the invisible voice before locking eyes with him.
“...Are you okay?” I asked.
“ I should be asking you. You were out of my sight for three days, and I didn't even know that you were alive until Bullock pulled me in here.”
“Three days?...I was in a coma for three days? But...what about you?”
“I'm fine. I'm so relieved that you're alive, Mina, I was sick with worry!”
“You look like you haven't been sleeping,” I pointed out, gently reaching out, but drawing my hand back at the last moment.
“I couldn't,” he admitted, “I'm not sure what I would have done if you had...died.”
The way he had spat out that last word with such a soft whisper left me confused. I tried to shrug it off. “I've been told I deserved it.”
“But you don't,” he said, holding onto my one hand like a lifeline. “You haven't stolen, or tried to blackmail anyone, and you certainly have never tried to...kill.”
“Three minutes left,” The voice chimed in, relieving him of dwelling on what he'd just said.
I tenderly guided him to face me again, locking eyes with him. “But we're okay now, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“Will anyone miss you?” I asked.
After a moment, he shook his head. “I was an only child, and my mother...she developed Alzheimer's at a young age. She doesn't really recognize me. My father is probably somewhere near Seaboard City, and he could care less. Do you have anyone back home?”
I shrugged, trying to fight a nervous laugh. “No. I only knew my father from the few pictures my mother had of him before he left. I know her far too well, though; she was a brilliant hypocrite, though. She promised she'd kill herself if I ever moved out.”
He leaned forward, drawing his hands back slightly. “What happened?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. My mother is still living on government funds and alcohol. My only issue will be making sure that Aida won't loom over me all the time.”
We laughed a little at that, and I could almost feel my heart breaking a little more.
“Two minutes left.”
More than half of our time together had passed, and I was more distressed than ever.
“Tell me this,” he continued. “You probably didn't expect to become a supervillain for a day. How did you expect your life would end up?”
I shook my head at the thought. “I've never really thought about it—I just didn't want to. It probably would have been awful, but I least I had that short time with you.”
“...Define 'awful.'
I made myself think about it, wishing that I wasn't, although knowing that there was no way an average life would come to me now. “Hopefully I'd be able to go to college at some point. Maybe work as a secretary until I'd die,” I scoffed.
“...So,” he said deliberately, “No plans on marriage?”
I was stunned, wondering why he seemed to care about that.
And then it hit me.
Oh.
“I don't know...” I said absently, staring down into my lap as I tried to pick through my emotions. “...It depends on if I get the chance.”
“One minute.”
This was insane. He was a supercriminal in a mental institution, and I was a waitress. I didn't even know when we'd seen each other again after this.
“What did you want to do with your life?” I asked, turning my gaze back to his.
“I'd wanted to be a singer for as long as I could remember,” He said, instantly brightening. “Even before I knew of my powers. I wrote music, and I'd sing as often as possible.”
After that, we were silent, not knowing how to fill our last thirty seconds. Then, I was struck with a sudden thought.
“Our deal isn't finished.”
He stared. “What do you mean?”
“You never told me your name.”
He took a deep, tense breath as he stared at the door, nervous that Bullock or Batman might show up again. He leaned forward and took my hands, and my heart fluttered in nervous excitement.
Any second now, I would be escorted out of Arkham, placed into a mundane existence, not knowing what would happen, and I may never see this man again.
“Patrick,” He whispered. “Patrick Andrew Clemens.”
The Music Meister and Gotham City belong to DC Comics and Warner Bros.
© 2014 - 2024 ShaylaPlumFairy
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GalaxyGirl5's avatar
It's on Tumblr? :meow: I'm surprised you got hate for it; I thought the MM fans were all respectful of each others' OCs.