Chapter 2. You must be quite strong to have survived this far

There's a strange smell in the air, something with a metallic tang that she can't quite place. The bed underneath of her is warm and the cover is draped over top of her. She snuggles into it, making a mewling sound as she pushes her face into the pillow. It smells of sweat and cigars.

An image comes rushing back to her; Heisenberg.

The young woman bolts up, eyes whirling about the room. There are pictures on the wall that she can't make sense of, the faces of Lords and hundreds of pictures of a specific guy. She doesn't understand. Her heart rate begins to pick up, banging against her rib cage the same way that something thrashes about below the room she is in. One thing is for sure; this isn't her house. She's far away from home. The question is: where?

As if coming around just to answer her question, a voice floats through the room. “I see a snow covered little kitten is awake.” It's Heisenberg, swaying in from one of only two doors. Well, two doors and a trap door - but she isn't going to risk that last one. Besides, Heisenberg hasn't shown her any ill will… Yet.

Between the pounding of her heart and the hideous revving below, she hardly knows what to say; so she opts for nothing at all.

Heisenberg wipes a hand over his beard, gives a bounce of his eyebrows, and goes over to unfold a metal chair. It slaps down with a bang, making her jump even though she could see it coming. There is just something about this guy that has her on edge. She isn't scared of him per say. It’s more like she’s interested in impressing him.

She shakes her head, strands of hair tickling across her forehead. Maybe it's because he's one of the four Lords, she concludes as her reason for feeling that way. After all, it isn't going to be anything else is it? Maybe hero syndrome. He did save her after all... If this is what being saved looks like. Oh! He did save her. Mother Miranda, she is being rude.

“Thank you,” She just about manages to spit out.

Heisenberg says nothing in response. Instead, he takes to sitting down on the chair with his legs spread open. He dives into his pocket and pulls out a metal case, flicking it open with a calloused thumb and pulling out a fat cigar. The case closes with a snap and he replaces it, swapping it for a lighter and putting the cigar in his mouth. There is a click and a flame, and he soon begins puffing to get the cigar started. Once lit, he retracts the lighter. Smoke blossoms in the air around him and he holds up one finger to indicate her to shush.

The man in the hat and glasses takes a deep breath, circulating the smoke around his mouth before blowing it out of his nostrils. Only then does he speak. “Quiet little thing aren't you?”

“I suppose so. But wouldn't you be, if your village was over run with monsters?”

“No,” he says simply.

“Right, of course.” In all of the rumours that had gone around the village, the ones about Lord Heisenberg had been the most far fetched, or so it had seemed. Maybe he was powerful, unnaturally so. At the very least he has been strong enough to carry her in from the cold. If he could wield that massive hammer, which now lies on the side of the room, there had to be at least some truth to the things that people said about him.

“You must be quite strong to have survived this far.” Heisenberg muses.

She snickers. “Imagine that, the man that they say can move metal thinks that I am strong. This isn't happening. I'm just having some kind of really weird dream.”

Now it is Heisenberg’s time to laugh. it's a throaty thing which reverberates around the room. Not unattractive at all. “And I'm the centre of this pretty girl’s dream? I understand of course. You must have taste. Everyone else around here is preoccupied with that supersized mega bitch and her ridiculous tits. Well, fuck that. It seems like I found a fan!”

He's flamboyant in a that way she doesn't quite know how to take. Is he mocking her or flirting with her? It's virtually impossible to tell. The quickening in her heart would like it to be the latter.

“What am I doing here?” She asks.

He bounds up from his chair, letting it scrape along the floor as he pushes it away with one boot.

“Well, isn't that the million lei question?” He inhales his cigar, blowing the smoke out with a quick puff. “You, sweetheart, are here because I brought you in out of the goodness of my heart.”

Now he really is laughing.

“I don't appreciate being mocked.” She had tried to sound stern but judging by his expression, it hasn't worked. Amusement is ripe upon his face.

“Here’s the thing, baby doll. Female villagers, they go up to the castle, right? Get turned into all sorts of nasties that you don't want to know about. Well, I'm sick of seeing Dimitrescu get her way. I thought to myself, why don't I get a slice of that for once?” Heisenberg taps on his temple, coming near the bed and making her back up to the wall abruptly. “That’d really piss her off! And then you crawl to my factory like it was fate! And when I say fate, it has nothing to do with Miranda.”

The cheek of it! “Blasphemer.”

“Hmm, trust me, the only one you should be worshipping is me.” His breath is hot on her face, scented with smoke and mint.

“And how do you want me to do that?”

“Another million lei question... what am I going to do with you?” His smile widens, pearly teeth all lined up in a row.

There’s a loud buzz from below and Heisenberg whirls around. He shouts, “shut your fucking hole!” and kicks the trapdoor.

She jumps, pulling the covers up and shrinking into the corner. What does Heisenberg have in store?