The door clanged open once more, and William looked up to see her figure silhouetted in the harsh light. She stepped inside with a slow, measured grace, her eyes gleaming with cold amusement that sent a shiver running down his spine. The guards closed the door behind her, and she paused, taking a moment to scan the room before her gaze settled on him.
"Ah, William," she started off, the barest, most teasing smile twisting her lips. "It would seem you're the flavour of the month with my colleagues." Her voice was low, no higher than a purr, as she leaned in closer heels clicking on the concrete. "They think you're just so intriguing, you know. All these tests, all this endurance. truly remarkable, in fact. Yet, here you sit, behind bars like some common criminal.
She sat down opposite him, crossing her legs with a poised, almost predatory ease. She didn't need restraints or tools to convey her power; her confidence was enough, that unspoken assertion that she was in control, that she could toy with him in any way she wished. She allowed the silence to stretch between them as she studied him, watched for a reaction.
"You really thought you could just slip through the cracks and live a quiet little life, didn't you?" she continued, her voice laced with bitter amusement. "You thought you could hide, that we wouldn't find you eventually. But someone like you… you can't just pretend to be normal. People like you are bound to be noticed."
William gritted his teeth, forcing calm, but her words cut deeper than he cared to admit. She was chiseling into the carefully constructed walls he had built, slipping through the cracks with each calculated barb.
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she lowered her voice. "You must have known, deep down, that you'd end up here. After all, people don't forget someone like you. They don't forgive someone like you." Her smile grew, cold and satisfied, seeming to savor the turmoil her words stirred within him.
"You thought you could change, didn't you?" she continued, her tone softening to a mocking whisper. "You thought that maybe if you hid long enough, you could bury the past. Maybe if you made friends, if you let people care about you, that somehow it would erase everything you've done. But that's not how the world works, William."
Her words clawed into him, reminders of every failure in trying to fit in, in trying to bury his past. His fists clenched and he breathed shallowly, struggling to hold his calm. But she was relentless, her gaze like razor-sharp edges tearing him down piece by piece.
To anyone, you are nothing more than a weapon. And no matter how desperately you may wish to believe otherwise, that is all you will ever be. To anyone." She turned her head, her eyes dancing with a glimmer of pleasure as she watched her words take their toll.
In the resulting silence, she leaned back, a smug look on her face, knowing she'd struck a nerve. "You're only deluding yourself to think anyone will ever see you as more than a threat. You're alone, William. You always have been, and you always will be.".
Her words hung in the air, sinking into him, twisting like a knife. She had no need to raise her voice, to shout or intimidate; her calm cruelty, her unshakeable confidence, was enough to fracture even the most unyielding resolve.
He kept his eyes on the floor, denying her the satisfaction of a flicker of pain across his eyes. Still, he knew that no matter how hard he tried, she had struck her blow. For in the quiet places of the mind, in the memories he tried to bury, he had always harbored the fear that maybe she was right.
As her words fell into the sterile, unbending harshness of the cell, William's head raised, red eyes ablaze with an inner fire that had not been there before. The mocking, assured smile on her face faltered, just a little, as his gaze pinned her in place. She held her composure, though the sudden fierce expression on his face made her grip the edge of her chair just a little tighter, her knuckles whitening.
"Is that really what you think?" he said in a low, dangerously calm voice. He didn't seem angry no raised voice, no clenching fists. Yet the icy steadiness in his tone was somehow more unnerving if he'd erupted in rage.
The woman smirked, all confidence restored. "I think it's exactly what you know to be true, deep down. You're just too proud to admit it."
His eyes flashed, and for a moment, the merest flicker of something unyielding passed across his features. He leaned forward, his eyes without blinking, and she could feel his presence filling the small cell as an almost tangible energy rose from him. For the very first time, the slightest doubt insinuated itself into her mind and beneath her practiced control, a whisper of unease.
"You think you know me," he whispered, his words barely audible yet weighty with intent, as if to shrink the room and make it tighter. "You think somehow it will bring me down, you just sitting there with your smug little grin and your hollow words. But you know nothing of me. Nothing."
She swallowed, keeping her face composed, but her fingers betrayed her: they quivered slightly as she clasped her hands together. She couldn't let him see the unease brewing beneath her calm exterior, couldn't allow him the satisfaction of knowing he'd managed to unsettle her.
"I don't think you are going to frighten me, William," she said, her voice cool and nearly disinterested. Flashing him a small, dismissive smile, she felt her heart hammer in her chest, each beat a reminder of the dangerous potential she had glimpsed in his eyes.
He cocked his head to one side, regarding her with an intentness that made her feel as though he was staring through the carefully contrived mask she wore. A faint smile touched his lips, but it was not a smile of amusement; rather, it seemed to say silently that he saw through her fear no matter how well she tried to disguise it.
"You should be scared," he said, his voice no louder than a whisper, with the impact of each word hitting like a fulfilled promise. "For one day, you will be sitting on the other side of this table, and you will understand it takes very little to turn the tables."
For a heartbeat, her mask almost slipped, a flicker of apprehension flashing in her eyes. She forced herself to breathe evenly, to remember her training, but something was unnerving about his quiet intensity, something that seemed to suggest he had been waiting for this moment waiting for someone to underestimate him.
"I think we're done here," she said, rising to her feet with a smoothness that belied the struggle going on inside of her. She turned to leave, ignoring the prickling sensation that ran down her spine as she felt his gaze following her every step, unblinking and unwavering. Her heart was pounding, her fingers flexing as she walked out, closing the door behind her with a soft but definite click.
She only allowed herself a breath, steadying, when she was safely outside the cell and out of that piercing stare. She had won this round, she told herself as she shook off the feeling of his eyes still boring into her.
But even as she walked away, the image of smoldering eyes and the promise they held could not quite be cleared from her mind, a silent promise that said the tables could turn at any moment in time.
"Don't forget that the government is looking for me right now sooner or later they'll bust me," William told her as she left the room.
"Kid do you really think they'd let you get taken if they didn't want to?" she questioned,"sometimes kid, the law is just a piece os paper"