Jewel

She was just like anyone else, almost. She went to school, college, had a loving family, fell in love with a quaint small town and made herself a happy minimalist life. She was one of the lucky few, what made her different was not obvious, it was buried deep inside her, it was a fluid part of her, it did not demand attention. She fell through the cracks, lived under the radar, undetected and unassuming.

That was until the incident, some tourist passing through, too drunk, too rowdy, she put up a fight, but fell hard. The local hospital was not equipped to deal with such a serve head injury, she was transferred to the closest big city. A few minor test was all it took to revel the truth, to get a peek at what was hiding inside her. They were called, nothing personal just protocol. It’s just the way these things are dealt with after so many unfortunate occurrences, all precautions are taken. Within an hour she was being transported to Mexico City, her unconscious body being guarded like the queens jewels.

The first few days after she gained consciousness she did not ask any questions, too tired and just happy to be taken care of. The nurses didn’t say much just took blood, vitals nothing unusual. Days turned into a week then new tests started, bone and CT scans, EEG, PET, MRI and lumbar punctures. Not uncommon for someone with a serious head injury but the lack of communication was unnerving. She was simply moved around from one place to another, the halls eerily quiet and abandon. The nurses would not address her directly, answer any of her basic question about her care, the lack of visitors or windows for that matter. She was not sure how long it was since she saw the sun. Who was paying for all these treatments? Not me she thought, I have nothing to offer.

She had started to grow restless, as she healed and gained the strength and balance back in her legs. She wanted to move, breathe some fresh air. She had lost track of time and her patience for that matter.

Donald Pierce was spending the evening in his office, watching his wall of monitors like his own private reality show. All under control, all as it should be. He spots her in one of the pixelated squares. His latest acquisition that was put directly in his hands, Dr Rice was pleased.

The green zone, that’s where they put her, minimum security, she was currently deemed harmless. He watches her as he sips his coffee, watches as she paces in her room, bangs on the door, pulls on the handle, stares directly into the camera. Her dark hair wild and unkempt, a stark contrast to the white hospital uniform she was changed into. There is no need for her to become so agitated, not after the world class treatment she has just received, perhaps he will pay her a visit, introduce himself, and explain his role in her life. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

He struts through the corridors like he owns the place, and in a way he does. The compliance and obedience, it’s all because of him, because of him and his dominance. He’s rarely in this section, there is no need to be, it’s all rainbows and unicorns as far as he is concerned. The nurses avert their eyes as he passes, the security stand a little taller. Suddenly everyone is on edge assuming he is there to reprimand and discipline.

He reaches her door and smiles to himself, entering her room he finds her sitting on the edge of her bed. Legs dangling, head hanging, shoulders tight, her hands grip the edge of the bed with such strength her knuckles are white. It appears he has arrived at the right moment.

She raises her head and takes him in, he is clearly not a doctor or nurse. Dirty blonde hair, black commando uniform, gold chain, throat tattoo.
“Hey, Baby” he addresses her and she flinches at the pet name, the casual manner at which he engages her. She stares into his clear blue eyes a little shocked. He takes note of her reaction, he will go a little slower, this one is still needs to be educated.

Taking the metal chair from the corner of the room, he strolls towards her and places it directly in front of her, sitting down casually, legs crossed hands in his lap. She draws her knees up to her chest, looking at him over the protective barrier they create. Then she sees it, how could she not have noticed it before. His metallic hand, she was too distracted by his face, his imposing build, his energy.

He notices her gaze and furrowed brow. Raising his metallic hand he gives her a little wave, bringing his hand to his face and capturing her eyes once more.

“Hi there” his voice controlled and less playful then before. He smiles sweetly though, exposes his gold tooth and tilting his head slightly to read her better.

“I’m Pierce,” he says slowly as if they speak a different language. “Donald Pierce, some call me Donald, Mr Pierce, Sir, Don, the devil, it’s really up to you.” He shrugs, head still tilted eyes still fixed on hers. Her brow is still furrowed but a tiny smirk betrays her resolve.

She is confused by his casual tone, his playful bedside manner, completely different from how others have interacted with her.

“I’m here to answer all them burning questions I’m sure ya have.”

She stays silent but nods her head to show she understands him.

He straightens up again, raising a single metallic finger

“But, before we start. I will advise, that honesty will be rewarded with honesty.” He leans forward for emphasis nothing playful in his words this time. Her posture straightens, muscles tight once more.

She contemplates her position, she still needs answers and he is the only one offering. She cannot sit idle in this room anymore. Slowly releasing her knees as a sign of trust, her legs dangle over the edge of the bed again, knees together, back straight, hands in her lap. He sits back in his chair, mimicking her posture as a sign of agreement and understanding.

She avoids his eyes as best she can as she decides on the best way to handle this man. She does not know his position, clearly he has authority, but how much? How much power does he wield over her? He is patient and still controlling the energy around them, he is waiting for her to speak. He clears his throat and she looks in his eyes again, cursing herself as soon as she did, then she finally speaks.

“How long have I been here?” A simple one to start, her tone flat and business like.

“16 days” is his reply, she gasps a little, taken back by his response. She would never had guessed she had been away from the world that long.

“Why has no one come to visit me? My family?” more emotion in her voice now. This however is a dangerous dance, more dangerous then she realizes. What does he already know about her? How much has he already learned? How deep did he dig?

He clears his throat once more, and gives her a disappointed glace, she already knows a mistake has been made. He had hoped, she would not need to be taught, that she would have worked things out by instinct, use that little thing hiding inside her. Perhaps it is truly dormant?

He captures her eyes for a third time, his baby blues, her brown.

“Your father died when you were young, a work accident. Your mother past five years ago from cancer, just before ya finished college.” He paused, taking in her reaction, she swallowed, she now knows for a fact she has been caught in a lie, caught trying to test him.

He continued “You inherited a small mount allowing you to set yourself up. Your brother, who is two years older lives far far away in Scotland with his wife and small boys” he glared at her with raised eye brows, waiting for her to make her move.

She closes her eyes and hangs her head once more. He took some pride in her little act of submission, he knows so much more then she had hoped. Clearly this is something bigger than just her, she is now a piece of a puzzle, things that she has kept contained inside her have been discovered.

He leans in, and tilts his head again to look at her face, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She refuses to acknowledge his closer presence.

“I think” he states casually, throwing his arm in the air, stretching and reclining back in his chair. “That ya isolated yourself on purpose, instinct, an involuntary act, a survival mechanism.” She still refuses to look at him, instead focusing on the ground, the reality of her position becoming evident.

“Will I ever leave this place?” she quietly asks him as he rocks his chair back and forward.

“Obedience will always be rewarded” he replies. That got her attention, her posture changed from submission to aggression.

“Obedience?” now it’s her turn to raise her eyebrows. “And who am I to obey? You?” she laughed.

Before she has time to register, he has sprung from his chair. She tries to crawl back into the bed startled by the sudden noise of the chair hitting the cement floor, caused by the force of his sudden movements. She does not make it far as he looms over her, his breath the only part of him touching her as he snarls in her ear

“Yes.”

As suddenly as he was there, he is gone again, she is paralysed with fear. The severity of her situation suddenly clear. She is alone, vulnerable and at the mercy of those that know of the treasure buried deep inside her.