022. Blood

Dec 18, 2011 22:39

"The idea was to get away from everything this weekend. She probably doesn't even have her cell phone with her."

Clarke groaned as Emile sent another a picture to Jen. He hadn't been able to keep count of how many photos were sent but Jen's inbox had to be full of them. He was a prisoner in his own apartment, tethered to his couch with some kind of rope. The couch cushions were stained with Clarke's blood. His wrists were raw under the rope. Dots of dried blood clung to his hairline and caked to his nostrils. Clarke's ears were slashed, a superficial but painful injury.

At least Emile seemed to be getting bored of beating on him. He clearly hadn't anticipated Jenny not responding immediately. He taunted Clarke with that silence, telling him Jenny didn't care if Emile killed him, that she clearly wasn't coming. He briefly wondered if that could be true but immediately dismissed the idea. Jenny may not be interested in dating Clarke but that's a long way from wanting Clarke to be tortured or murdered. She certainly did not want those two security agents to be killed.

If any Emile's words were true, if Jenny had decided she could no longer be a part of all this, Le Tetard would still not win. Clarke had fought back already and soon, especially if Jenny didn't reappear, he was going to fight back more, harder. This was going to end tonight.

letetard, jennifer shepard, fic, verse: dc, 30prompts

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