Police Sirens: Corry Warning: Mental and Physical Torture

[tarnishedbadge]

The beach was a wonderful place to go fishing. Early in the morning when no one else was around to disturb or startle the catch, all you had to do was wait. You put your bait in the water and just wait.

Normally Joseph preferred to do a bit more scouting and research before he fished, but desperate times called for semi-desperate measures. So far everything in town had gone as well as could be expected and he didn't imagine it would change anytime soon. Not that he would be here much longer.

Joseph just needed one more catch, a few days to prepare it, and then he would be on his way. Speaking of catches, he adjusted his glasses as he glanced down the beach, noticing someone coming this way. Making sure he looked properly disheveled; wispy hair blowing in the wind and his tattered robe loosely tied about his waist, he stumbled a bit aimlessly as he blinked owlishly as he looked around.

"Hello?" he called out. "Hello? William, where are you? William, is that you?"

Comments

[starsfallen]

Corrine looks away as he dresses, terrified by the close proximity, the painfully intimate nature of being trapped in a hotel room with these men. But it could be worse. She won't even let herself entertain the notions of how much worse it could be.

And the man keeps talking. The man is responding. If this is anything like her movies, her tv shows, the more he monologues the more time she can postpone any inevitable horrors. She has to keep the connection. Her charisma flows out of her like pheromones, in an odd way it's a relief after bottling it up for so long.

"Joseph? I'm Corrine. Corrine Flynn. I grew up along the beaches where you found me. But I don't think I've ever seen you before. Are you from Siren Cove?"

Just keep talking. Keep him talking. After the binding, the desperate struggle, the dragging in that godforsaken bag, there's an odd and terrifying tranquility in the exchange of words. Is this the calm before the storm or after?

She worries at any moment its all going to break. That she'll lose her nerve. That she will break down. That this moment of calm will break. She just wants to see Leslie again. And Lou. And Alfie and Lara and even friggin Riley Jung and the librarian and that man Joel she dumped her muffins on and the muffin maker and everyone that is safe and away from this and goddamn it maybe even her mother. and it shocks her that this is on her mind over Hollywood. God damn it why did she ever leave there? She was supposed to be safe here. Her jaw starts the shake and a tear escapes. Only one. But even that is too much. The dam will break at any moment.

"W-what else do you do? W-what do you like to do?"

[tarnishedbadge]

"I'm not from here, no," he said, taking one last look as his image in the mirror. There, even if someone had seen him on the beach no one would mistake him for the doddering old fool that had been there. The elderly all looked the same to most people. Besides, he had to look nice for his guest.

"And I like to read. There's nothing quite like a good book. I'm rather fond of those new e-readers, hundreds upon hundreds of books at your fingertips in such a tiny space. Truly marvelous."

He can't remember the last time one of his victims asked him about himself. More evidence that she was special, that she was unique. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would be worth keeping around past this. Heaven knew his partner was not decent conversation.

"What about you? What do you like to do?"

[starsfallen]

His words are merely echoes now, barely surfacing over the swirling thoughts in her mind. The sheer will it's taking to fight back her tears. She can't be here. There's so much she has to do. The Waterhouse her dream it was finally happening and she can't - she can't fathom if the last Hollywood sees of her is some strung out lost girl. Her star is due to rise again. She was going to be an EGOT winner one day! And Jen and Steve and James and Rob and Emma and all of people who stuck by and helped her get clean... she has to see them again. She's better now. They have to see...

And Les. She swore she'd never leave him again. She can't. She can't. She swore to herself she'd befriend Riley. Promised Lou she would reach out to her parents again one day. That she'd have the chance to make Lara proud. This can't end here. Oh god, is this where it ends!?? She knows she's about to hyperventilate. She's forgetting her poise. She can't. She has to play the part. Damn it. She can not fall apart. She has to be the great Corrine Flynn once more; not the mess she's become.

Then his words start registering. Books. Reading. Asking about her. The shift in his eyes from desolate cold to something of interest. She has to keep up the act. And this - she can work with. "I'm an entertainer." Not an actress. He might be suspicious of that. "I'm a storyteller. A performer." She silences her mind and looks straight into him. "I bring things to life." Take that. you killer. Monster! She wants to spit in his face. But she smiles, instead. Soft, interested. Everything that says she wants to hear more of what he has to say.

[tarnishedbadge]

"How very lovely," he said.

Joseph meant it, he did, but there was no doubt that his capacity to truly find anything lovely was terribly diminished. He had little interest in movies and music, though authors were storytellers of a sort. Perhaps he could have her write a book for him, a new story that was only his. Yes, yes, that is what he'd do.

"I'm sure that we kind find a way for you to make use of your talents. It would be a terrible waste otherwise."

[starsfallen]

Her heart simultaneously leaps and plummets at the notion of hope and the fear of what may be churning in his mind. Corrine never lets her gaze fall though. Lets her words flow with honey. The genuine nature of her suggestion is not an act. If only. If only she can take hold of the situation. She could find a weak point . She could escape.

"Your books. I could bring your books to life. Read them aloud, perform them. Give you the stories like you've never had before. Give you your own stories..." The words sound pitiful when they escape her. She realizes. She's clinging to glass straws. But his eyes still look at her with interest. She is no longer just idle prey. Corrine starts to hum the melody again. Makes it seem casual, like she's doing it for herself. To calm herself. Not to lull him to her graces. It's a game of survival and she is not some field mouse. But the melody takes her by surprise when she recognizes it. When the notes start to connect. 'My Funny Valentine'. That, here. That being the song deep and surrounding him. It is twisted in a way she can't fathom.

[tarnishedbadge]

"I assure you that my own imagination is more than sufficient to entertain me with the stories that I read," he said, eyes narrowing at her just a bit. Joseph knew that it wasn't meant as an insult but it was insulting all the same. Still, she seemed to be reaffirming the value that he thought she had to him. A storyteller would make for a wonderful additional.

"But new stories, written or performed just for me, that might be worthwhile. A modern day Arabian Nights, so to speak."