8. Chapter 8: The Acrobat (1/2)
december 2017, prison tower, 12:15pm
guess i'll die.
this nonchalant thought crossed dahlia's mind as she gazed down from the top of the tower. it had to be at least a forty foot drop before hitting the courtyard. instant death, if dahlia landed properly. head first would be the way to go. no pain whatsoever.
dahlia wasn't especially bothered by the fact that morgan fey's plan required her to die. she was due to be executed soon anyway, so at least this way she could go out on her own terms. after all the near-death experiences she had survived, it struck dahlia as funny that suicide would be the final cause. the memory of terry fawles' final moments in the courtroom came to her mind. the difference was that fool had been tricked into drinking the poison, whereas dahlia was doing this of her own free will. either way, revenge was all she cared about at this point, and this was just the first step towards that goal. her last step.
dahlia didn't bother saying goodbye to anyone. sahwit would be heart
oken at first, but would soon find another master whose boots he could lick. white would be relieved to have her out of his life. dee... well she did feel a little bad leaving her behind without a word; they had formed a strong bond after all. but she would understand. gant wouldn't care either way, and her humiliation at gant's hands in the pool still infuriated her. she had tried poisoning his food, but the oaf scarfed it all down like nothing, somehow immune to it all! dahlia hoped she landed on him and took him to the afterlife with her.
with that thought, dahlia took a deep
eath and steadied herself. no turning back now. she took a step and let gravity
ing her down.
not like this.
the thought struck her at the last moment. dahlia hesitated, swiftly
inging her foot back from the ledge. the sudden movement made her lose balance, so she
ought her foot down again. it landed awkwardly, making dahlia cry out. she heard a crack in her ankle and collapsed to the floor. tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. she nursed her now-swollen ankle. definitely sprained, she thought to herself. goddamnit.
prison clinic, 1:15pm
'yup, that's a bad one, ms. hawthorne. gonna need to keep it in a cast for at least a week. how did it happen?'
'none of your business.'
dahlia was lying on the clinic bed, letting the prison doctor inspect her injury. the pain was gone for now, but dahlia knew if she put any weight on her right foot, it would return sharply. but she forced herself to remain expressionless. and she definitely wasn't about to tell anyone what she was doing in that tower.
'o-okay, no problem. i'm just going to update your medical records.'
'you do that.' dahlia said lazily, gazing at the ceiling.
the doctor nervously shuffle out of the room, leaving dahlia alone with one other patient. he wore circus clothing, with face paint and some kind of gold headband on his head. he had a tanned, muscled physique. clearly in good shape.
and he was in a wheelchair.
a lot of good that muscle will do him in a wheelchair, dahlia thought, smirking to herself.
the man turned to her, as if reading her mind. but he had an easy smile on his face, so he obviously hadn't.
'that looks like it hurts quite a bit.' the man asked, clearly trying to
eak the ice.
'yes, well, i don't expect you to know what leg pain feels like.'
the man laughed, not the reaction dahlia was expecting.
'actually i do. the doctor says the mobility in my legs is slowly improving. nowhere close to walking, mind you, but getting there. my name's acro.'
'dahlia.' she responded, 'do you always laugh like a fool when someone insults you, wheels?'
'i find it better than holding a grudge, yes. and it seems you have enough to worry about as is.'
dahlia narrowed her eyes, 'meaning?'
'you tried to kill yourself earlier.'
it would've taken superhuman control not to react to this. dahlia wasn't superhuman. the shock had to be evident on her face, since acro nodded as if it were confirmation.