Terror (Part 1 of the Valeska Series)

Truth Hurts

✮ a c c a l i a  POV✮

Dressed in a black skirt that stops just before my knees with a vibrant red shirt tucked into it, my black combat boots, my satchel, and Jerome's jacket from weeks ago, I walk into Arkham with Edward right behind me, being guided, once again, by Mr Scott. The woman at the reception smiles at me this time, her hazel eyes alive and happy - quite obviously enjoying having another female around that isn't crazy. I return the smile and follow the guard past the recreation room.

Unfortunately, this time there are people in it.

Wolf whistles sound and I roll my eyes, but stop when Edward pokes my shoulder. Looking back at him, he motions into the room. Following his motions, I meet the bright blue eyes of my adoptive mother, and my jaw drops. Her eyes glisten with happiness and she skips over to us, a giant grin on her face. All I can do is stare at her Arkham uniform in disbelief when she stops right in front of me.

"Barbara?" I ask, blinking several times in shock. "What the hell did you do to get in here?"

"Killed my parents," the blonde replies, merely shrugging as though murder is a trivial thing.

"Well, you'll get along just fine with my best friend then."

"Ooh. Jerome's in here?"

"He killed his mother. At the circus? Remember?"

"Right. Sorry. My mind's a little mixed up right now. I just got over the aftershock of killing my parents. Now, I feel good about it."

I lower my voice. "Killing someone does give a little rush, doesn't it? It's addictive."

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"Miss Gordon," Mr Scott says, drawing my attention. "I am sorry, but I must cut this off. The patients are starting to get... rowdy, if you will, with your being here."

I smile, moving away from the fence. "No. I understand. See you later, Barbara."

"Accalia!" Barbara calls. "What the hell did you mean by that?! Accalia!"

Sending a wink over my shoulder at her, I follow Mr Scott to the visitation room from last time. At our exchange, Edward lets out a small chuckle but says nothing. Opening the door, I walk in and instantly plop onto the comfortable bed, sighing in delight as Edward sits down at the table once again and Mr Scott goes to collect Jerome from where ever the ginger gets to when he's not in the recreation room with the rest of those admitted to this horrific place.

It doesn't take as long as last time for Mr Scott to get Jerome. As soon as he walks through the door, I run over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, his hands going around my waist and lifting me off the ground as he spins me around. Setting me back on the floor, I tug my skirt back down from where it had risen and grin up at him, my eyes sparkling with a mixture of tears and happiness. An answering grin appears on his face as he takes my outfit in, and confusion spreads across his features when he sees the skirt.

"You don't wear skirts," Jerome murmurs, his forest green eyes looking up into my blue-green ones. "What's with the drastic change, little terror?"

Backing away from him, I watch as his expression becomes slightly terrifying. "There's something I never told you, ginger. Something I never told anyone until last night."

"Why are you backing away from me?"

"I don't know how you're going to react to what I'm going to say."

"This is really bad, isn't it?"

I nod, looking over to Mr Scott. All he does is nod and walk out of the room. A moment later, the red light turns off on the camera, and it's not missed by Jerome. His eyes zone in on my skirt as I sit on the bed, crossing my legs and allowing the black material to slip down, revealing the white of the medical patches. Jerome's jaw tenses and he clenches his hands, walking over to me and just standing there. My eyes flicker to Edward and he nods, getting up and leaving. As soon as we're alone, the ginger's eyes darken.

"Do you want to explain why there are medical patches on your thighs, or do you want me to force it out of you?" he asks, his voice deep and threatening.

Closing my eyes, I let out a shaky breath. "Jerome, I never told you about the years before I met you. I should have, so long ago, but... I was afraid. I thought I would lose you if I ever told you what happened."

"This better be relevant, Accalia, or I swear this is going to get ugly real quick."

"Stop threatening me for one goddamn second, sit your ass down and f*****g listen!"

Jerome silently sits down on the bed, his expression surprised and furious. I stand up, playing with my fingers as I shift constantly in front of my best friend - and the one I love. Shrugging off Jerome's jacket, I lay it on the bed, causing his green eyes to follow the movement before looking back at me. Pushing up the sleeves to my red shirt, my arms feel bare and dirty without the make up I usually wear to cover the assortment scars decorating my body.

Instantly, his eyes are glued to my arms, taking in the array of scars in different shapes and sizes.

"I grew up in an orphanage. I was the victim of everything - even if it wasn't my fault."

His hand reaches for my arm and I move out of his reach, not wanting contact right now. Forcing myself to ignore is hurt expression, I continue.

"It started out with small things - tripping me over, bumping me into walls, throwing something a little too hard. As I got older, it got worse. They began purposely shoving me into the concrete walls, pushing me to the ground, smashing my head through the thinner walls of both the inside and outside of the building, and pegging stones and knives and anything heavy they could find at me. There was never a day that I was free from bruises or cuts or blood. There....There was even a day they pushed me into a small cave in from where the ground had eroded away. I was left there for almost three days in the middle of winter, and I was practically frozen to death by the time anyone found me.

It wasn't even two days later when the beatings started. I ran into someone with my food tray, and it went all over them. Everyone in the room ganged up on me and just kept hitting me until the owner - mistress, we had to call her - came down the stairs, and sent them all away. I thought she was saving me from them, but I was so unbelievably wrong. She became the worst of them all. There was nothing she wouldn't do - beat me; cut me; torture me; burn me; whip me. Never once did she stop any of the other children from abusing me. All she did was add to it, and make it many, many times worse. There was nothing I could do. Although, there was one thing she never allowed, and I'm glad for that. She never let any of the older boys r**e me - that was one line she would not allow crossed."

Digging my nails into my arm, I realized that I was shaking worse than earlier. This was easier done in theory where none of this was actually happening, and I could plan out how Jerome would react. The thing is, it is impossible to know how the explosive ginger would react in any given situation due to the inability to read the thoughts and emotions as they fly across his face. Hesitantly looking up, I am shocked to see tears overflowing from his evergreen eyes and his body shaking. This is one scenario that I never envisioned.

"Jerome," I breathe, moving slightly closer to him.

He shakes his head, his ginger hair moving wildly. "How can you even stand to be near me, Accalia? I'm a monster like them. I kill and hurt people because I like it. It's f****d up, and I don't know how you can even tolerate being anywhere near me."

"You haven't hurt me."

"But I want to."

"You're a diagnosed psychopath, Jerome. Wanting to hurt people is part of that, but so is not feeling anything."

His tearful green eyes look up at me.

"You admitted to me that you love me. Ginger, that is something psychopaths are incapable of doing. Just because you want to hurt me, doesn't mean that you will. Even if you do, I will not leave you. I swore on my life that I would not leave you, and I am sticking by my word. If I leave, then my life is in your hands to end. Do you hear me, Jerome Valeska?"

Jerome nods, smiling slightly. It soon vanishes as he fully absorbs my story from moments ago, and his evergreen eyes move back to my arms. "I don't want to push any boundaries, but...."

I smile and look at the ground, knowing what he wants. "You want to know how bad it really looks."

"You don't have to."

Ignoring his words, I let out a shaky breath and untuck my vibrant red shirt. Jerome's eyes look away as I take it off, but they keep on flickering back to me until they just stay on me. I drop it onto the floor beside me and close my eyes as I slide my skirt off, kicking it to the side before crouching down and taking off my combat boots and socks, leaving me almost naked in front of my best friend and love. Hesitating, I go to take off the medical patches, but Jerome's lithe hands prevent me from doing so when he takes hold of my fingers, pulling me closer to him.

Closing my eyes, I try my best not to flinch as the ginger's fingers dance along my skin, taking in every ridge and curve; every lump and dip; every scar and burn mark. His fingers start to travel around to my back and I snap into action, gripping his wrists and shoving him backwards, causing myself to stumble slightly. My breathing shakes more, and his eyes widen at my reaction. Releasing him, I straighten and allow him to sit up again. Hesitating, I slowly turn around, baring my severely scarred back. At the sight, I hear his sharp intake of breath, and then I feel his fingers hesitantly graze one of the larger scars.

My skin quivers under his touch and my body instinctively bows away from it. Forcing myself to stay where I am, I turn back around to face Jerome, my head bowed and my eyes closed. Feeling his fingers brush along the large scar on my abdomen, I open my eyes and look down at him, seeing him look up at me with a curious and concerned expression. Lifting my own hand to trace the scar, I feel the ridges from where they had to stitch my stomach back together.

"One of the girls tried to gut me alive," I explain, running my trembling hand along the scar again. "The old woman wasn't happy with that, but she still grinned when she saw me. I was just the punching bag, and she only cared that I remained alive to be that one thing."

"If I ever get out of here, I am going to kill this b***h," Jerome promises, looking up at me with sincerity and anger blazing in his forest green eyes. "Or I'll make her wish for death."