White Steel

Third Person POV - TW - Drugs, kidnapping, torture, blood. Continue at your own risk.

The buzz began to quiet down, and people started to pour out of their seats, full of energy, chatting, grumbling, or remaining silent with their hands in their pockets. It was a huge affair. Artemis guided the whole group to her private room in the Arena, a large trophy in one hand and Damien on her hip on the other side. The cute little boy was singing the wheels on the bus to himself while pecking at his nails.

Lennox was chatting to Arte by her side about how Damien had been recently - The foods he'd begun to show dislike for vs the foods he'd been starting to like. He'd put on some weight and even started to understand which shapes go in which holes in his shape sorter. 

Lennox wasn't the only one to receive Artemis' kindness and compassion over the years, but he was definitely the biggest recipient of it. Damien was only a week old when Artemis had noticed Lennox's unusual behaviour at school. She'd been back from abroad for two years and had fallen in love with Cole, and the two of them started dating a month after she got back. However, even though she loved him, Arte always kept Lennox and Damien hidden from Cole.

Lennox was using his online searches to get by and hiring a last-minute babysitter who was local in the area so he could still go to school. However, when he was at school, he was withdrawn, on edge, with bags under his eyes so heavy they could force a hole through the Earth.

Artemis wasn't the first to notice, so wrapped up in Cole at the time. Lennox was one of the people she'd casually kept in contact with when she was abroad. When she did notice Lennox's behaviour, she cornered him aggressively, knowing that if she'd been soft with him that he'd just say he was fine and shut her down. 

But with nowhere to escape to, Lennox broke down, sobbing. He explained to Arte that he had been in a relationship with a girl with whom he thought he was going to stay together. However, months beforehand, she'd broken up with him, telling him she was moving away with her parents. And then, six days ago, a baby was left on his doorstep. He broke down, saying that he was dipping into his savings for college to hire a babysitter and care for the baby and that he had no idea what he was doing, relying on the internet for help. 

He even went as far as to mention that recently, the baby had a rash on his belly, and Lennox had no idea what to do. In that instance, Arte asked Lennox a simple question..."Do you trust me?" Arte had never let him down before - not when they were kids and not in the two years she'd been back - so of course, his answer was 'yes'. 

After that, Arte walked away, and Lennox didn't see her until the next day. She'd appeared at his door with a delivery van full of items. Nappies, milk, bottles, pacifiers, clothes, a bath seat, sensory toys, grooming kits and bubble baths, shampoos, even washing up powders and liquids specifically for baby clothes that were anti-allergy. 

And then, she stayed on Lennox's sofa for a whole month, taking turns with him to care for baby Damien. The two had grown to be super close, and although Damien saw Arte as his mother, Lennox and Arte were strictly bonded as siblings. The month they spent together, attached at the hip, made them realise they had more in common than they thought. 

They became so close...Arte shared her family name with him. When Damien was three months old, Arte seriously asked Lennox to become her sibling, saying that as an orphan under the age of 18, he could be adopted. All she had to do was convince her parents. 

And she did, though it came at a cost. For Lennox to be adopted, he had to prove himself useful to the family. He trained relentlessly, and currently, he's doing well as an enforcer. An enforcer who was just recently moved to Arte's command due to her being the heir. Their bond is a secret the two of them share, and in public, Lennox uses the surname 'Davies' that he adopted in the orphanage. However, legally, his surname is White, as is Damiens. 

"Are you going to Nanny's to play with Auntie Khi tonight, little devil?" Arte asked the little boy who just beamed at her, yelling 'Kuh-eeeee'. Damien loved Khione, mainly because she slipped him sugary snacks at bedtime and gave in to her every whim. The household was more lively with Damien running around, and definitely happier. However, it wasn't as such in the beginning. After all, Arte had to beg her parents to let her continue taking care of Damien. 

Lennox opened a door on the right and made way for Arte, who casually walked in and placed the trophy down on a cabinet that spanned many other trophies, and then she gently placed Damien on a plush beanbag in the corner of the room. Said corner was made into a play area in this huge private room. After all, Arte had many young children as fans, and a lot of them were her friends' siblings. 

Her friends from the basketball team piled in with their younger siblings, the kids excitedly ran to the corner and grabbed toys, paper and crayons, or just chatting amongst themselves. 

Arte took a seat on a large, black sofa and arched her back inward, her spine popping in succession as it cracked. She breathed out a sigh of relief and then slouched back, Benji coming over and throwing himself next to her "How'd you feel, Arte?" He asked her with genuine curiosity. The girl quickly whipped her neck from side to side, popping sounds echoing through the room "Tired. The rush of adrenaline is great in the moment, but afterwards, I get so exhausted. How'd you guys like the race?" She lifted her head, beaming at her friends. 

One of the players threw his hands in the air with a grin that said he was pumped up "Man, it was fire! I've seen you race so many times, but the tension and excitement still thrill me each time!" A few of them laughed and agreed. "It's a shame your little band of merrymen couldn't be here", Benji sighed, looking forward to seeing Margot's response to Arte's race. Lillian, George, Margot and Mia were usually at all of Arte's competitions, races included, but they all had to stay behind at school to help with an event coming up. 

Arte's eyes scanned the people gathered before stopping on a quiet individual in the corner. Lucanis. Her eyes narrowed a little, wondering what he was doing here. She glanced at Benji, who seemed to read her mind, but he just gave her a large, cheeky grin with no explanation. Arte sighed in response, her eyes involuntarily rolling. 

For a while, they all chatted and had fun. Arte even had a mini fridge in the room and told them to help themselves to snacks and drinks. Angelica came running over and threw herself at Arte dramatically "Arte, are you really sure I can't marry you when I'm older?" Her little eyes were pleading with so much affection for Artemis, her idol. 

As usual, Benji sighed and raked a hand down his face in exasperation, the other guys stifled laughter, Lucanis was shocked...But Arte? Her response was the same as usual. She squished her cheek lovingly to Angelica's and then pulled away, giving her a beautiful smile that made even Benji's heart skip a beat! 

"If you want to marry me, you better learn how to shoot someone in the kneecaps, Angel face" The group didn't understand, nor did Angelica, but she sighed anyway. Usually, she'd give up, but this time, a fire burned in her eyes "Alright, at what age should I learn? Should I ask my dad to teach me?" Silence fell over the room for a click before Arte burst out in loud, genuine laughter. It was a laugh that surprised Benji because he hadn't heard it since before she left for abroad, before Apollo stopped coming. 

"Sure. If you learn from a professional like your dad and you get good at it, come back and ask me again when you're sixteen. If I'm not already married or engaged, we can get married," Benji sighed, wondering why Arte always indulged his little sister. Angelica ran off, and everyone watched her. Benji turned to Arte with a frown "You indulge her too much. You know she'll be heartbroken when she's sixteen and you're twenty-four and she can't marry you." A smile played on Arte's lips as she shrugged. It wasn't a shrug that said she didn't care, it was more a 'I'll cross that bridge when I get there' shrug.

"Apollo used to ask me the same question. I used to give him the same answer. When we got home, he'd run upstairs and ask our mother for shooting lessons" The girl snorted "When mother asked, 'What on earth for?' Apollo would say, 'So I can marry Arte and we can be together forever!' like he was scared we wouldn't be." Benji was stiff from the moment 'Apollo' came out of Arte's mouth. He wasn't sure what to say, feeling like Apollo was a touchy subject. Though when he gathered the courage to ask what happened to that sweet boy, Arte's phone rang. 

Everleigh was briefing Arte and asked if the girl could come and meet a sponsor. Arte agreed, apologised to her friends and said she'd be back in an hour so they could all go home together unless people had places to be. Lennox, Benji and Lucanis said they'd stick around. 

After an hour, Arte had yet to return. Benji said she'd probably encountered another chatty sponsor and was running late. Lucanis was a little shifty, feeling like there was something wrong deep down and by the hour and ten-minute mark, Lennox bolted up with a serious face. He pulled his phone out and dialled Everleigh's number, asking if Arte was almost finished. However, Everleigh's response made his face pale. 

"Arte finished the meeting 30 minutes ago. She said she was going back to the room, but is she not there?" Lennox didn't even respond. He hung up and then sent a text to a different number. "Hey, Benji. Can you do me a huge favour, man?" He saw the panic on Lennox's face and agreed immediately. Lennox threw his house keys and car keys at Benji and asked if he could take Damien home and stay there until he gets back. Without even a beat, Benji agreed. Lucanis said he'd go with him, and then Lennox bolted like a bat out of hell. 

Meanwhile, 30 minutes ago, Arte had been meeting with her new 'sponsors' when her head hit the table and she lost consciousness. Moments before her lids closed, she eyeballed the cup of lemon water, irritated that she had let her guard down enough to be drugged.

When she woke up, she had no idea how long she'd been out nor where she'd been. However, the pain of disorientation was almost physical. Her head lolled softly, the poor girl not having the strength or energy to keep it upright or still.

Her eyelids were constantly fluttering open and closed, each lash feeling heavier than the last and weighing her eyes closed. But when she did manage to open her eyes and the blurryness had slowly vanished, she saw a dimly lit space that definitely didn't match any meeting room she'd ever been in. 

Her ears were ringing painfully, and for a while, she could hear her pulse thumping. It was strong, but slow, further proof she was still drugged. Her mouth was dry, and if she could, she'd no doubt grimace. It felt like she'd been munching on sand. Her brain felt like it was lagging, unable to count the minutes or even seconds. The voice in her head was slurred, so no doubt her actual voice would also be at the mercy of her heavy tongue and slow ticking intellect box. 

She wasn't sure how long she'd suffered that high-pitched ring, but when it started to gradually die down, she could finally hear them. The relaxed and even giddy voices and laughs were coming from a space in front of her. Bellowing male laughter echoed in the large space and bounced off every wall. It was almost as painful as the ringing. 

Arte tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy to open both, so she focused what remaining energy she had into opening one eye. A dull, sickly light filtered through cracked yellow windows. There were boxes all over the place, some full and sealed, some open, some empty and thrown around. It was a warehouse of some sort, though it wasn't industrial because the warehouse seemed like it was abandoned, but the perfect hiding space for small-time criminals or criminals that didn't fit the gloves they were trying to wear, like these ones. 

The shadows in the room seemed almost restless, and occasionally, Arte thought she saw them actually move as if they were alive, but she chalked it up to being drugged. She took quiet but deep breaths, wanting to try and clear her head but not draw the attention of the men that sat at a makeshift table made from sealed boxes. 

She couldn't move even if she wanted to, a tingly, floaty feeling settling over every inch of her body and making her numb. Every limb, every muscle, they felt like they belonged to someone else, and she was just hitching a ride in their body. An attempt at wriggling her fingers caused a dull ache in her wrist. That's what made her fully aware of the predicament she was in. 

Her arms were suspended above her head, chained securely to the ceiling. Her ankles were shackled to the cold floor, but she was hanging, unable to even put her tippy-toes down. The curse in her head came out slowly and slurred as she realised she was stuck here, no matter what. There was no escape. 

A gruff laugh drew her attention, and she stared at the men through one eye as they placed card after card on the boxes, the four of them playing poker. Each clack of a card being placed down weighed heavily on Arte, further solidifying the fact that she couldn't escape. Their voices were so disturbingly casual, like they didn't have a sixteen-year-old girl drugged and suspended from the ceiling in chains. 

Arte's hand twitched, and with it, the chains clinked. The laughter and casual conversation came to an abrupt halt, and inwardly, Arte cursed herself. "Well, well," she lifted her one eye to the sound of the voice and saw a bald, bulky man cloaked in cigarette smoke. He stood up, the metal chair under his ass scraping against the floor and making Arte inwardly cringe. He approached her slowly, coming to a stop and looking up at her with a sickeningly wicked grin. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty is finally up. Thought we'd have to toss a bucket on you," He drawled a little, and the three behind him that were still playing cards snickered in amusement. 

Arte thought about spitting on him, but then realised that with the state of her and the sandy feeling in her mouth, she'd be unable to. "Princess White", The man addressed sarcastically. That answered at least one question - Her identity as heir was why she was here. 

This wasn't the first time she'd been kidnapped. In fact, it was the third. The first time, the guy didn't get far, and a sniper managed to take him out before he'd even crossed the gate. The second time, she was gone for two days before her family raided a home and found her in a gross basement, tied and sleeping on the floor. But this? This was new. Chained up and hanging from the ceiling, drugged. It was a whole new experience. 

Arte even took a moment to think back on the time when her mother wanted her to build a tolerance against drugs. Now, she regrets saying no. "Hope you enjoyed your nap. We have a few things we'd like to...Discuss" The way he lingered and emphasised the word 'discuss' had warning bells going off in Arte's think tank. There was no way they'd be keeping her alive if she'd opened her mouth - not that she would. 

The man looked at her like she was a vault just begging to be cracked and have the treasures inside stolen. Sometimes, being White wasn't the best thing in the world. Far from it. Especially when you end up getting drugged and kidnapped. 

"You're going to help us access your family's secure servers", He said matter-of-factly, causing a sound resembling a snicker to fall from Arte. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched it tight. "Seeing as you're officially the heir and all, you probably know the credentials. Or know how to get them," He said through gritted teeth, clearly irritated by that snicker just now. "Then, we'll call mummy and daddy and demand a little something for your safe return" He grinned like he had other plans, however. 

"And here I thought you'd offer me some water, maybe some breakfast and sit me down, talk to me nice", Arte rasped out with a slight slur, her jaw feeling like lead. The sarcasm hit even more nerves, his left eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

"Unfortunately for you, sweetheart," He said, lifting his hand and hooking his index finger under Arte's chin as he got closer and lifted the girl's heavy head. "We're not in the market for keeping you alive after that. Someone paid very well to make sure you never so much as SMELL the White family legacy again," He said with almost happiness in his tone, his eyes scanning Artemis, waiting for the part she'd break down. Maybe cry at the revelation. However, there was nothing which further irritated him. He roughly threw Arte's head to the side as he unhooked his index finger from her chin, the force not causing her pain due to the numbing of her body, but rather, causing more tingling on the surface of her skin.

 "Good luck with that, baldy. I may not be able to take any of you down even without the drugs and chains, but I know how to keep my mouth shut regardless of what you think you can do to me" Arte's voice was hoarse, still slurring, but she tried to make her words as clear as possible. 

The bald man was done. Something snapped in his brain, he was so pissed at this one teenage girl, unsure as to how he'd let her get so under his skin. He turned his head to a man with brown hair and said dangerously low, "Start at level one". The man nodded, silent and slipped a pair of black gloves on. He didn't rush. He took his time. Slow, deliberate. Like this wasn't the first time he'd done this. As if it were a daily occurrence. Like he enjoyed it. 

Arte's sucked in a deep breath and prepared herself. She watched the man like a hawk as he crossed the room and did something she couldn't see. She stared at his back, watching the movements of his muscles under his shirt and the way his elbows moved backwards and forwards. 

The bald man sat back down and put his feet up, picking up a controller for a games console that Artemis hadn't noticed until now. "Don't kill her", he said over his shoulder, "Just make her reconsider her attitude" 

The brown haired man crossed over and leaned in a little, his voice small, "We'll start slow" On cue, death metal blared through the warehouse and made Arte flinch. Her ears weren't ready to be assaulted so abruptly like that, so it was painful. The brown haired man smirked at her reaction and then slipped his fingers into a brass weapon Artemis had seen before. She knew what was coming, and she prepped herself for it, her teeth unclenched in order not to break them as the hits landed. 

The first blow had stars dancing in her vision. It was harder than she thought it would be to keep her teeth unclenched. The second blow stole the breath from her lungs. Arte refused to scream; she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. However, upon seeing a dribble of blood from the corner of her mouth, the brown haired man shivered, and something in his eyes seemed to change. 

He let loose a third blow, a fourth and a fifth. 

The beating stopped, and Arte's head hung loosely. She was still. The music was turned down enough for the bald man to be heard: "Man, don't tell me you killed her?!" He exclaimed the question. Feeling more clear-headed with adrenaline rushing through her veins, Arte slowly lifted her head and gave them a toothy smile. They didn't see pearly whites, her teeth were smothered in her own blood "Killed me? Are you worthy?" This ticked the bald man off even more. He turned the music back up and threw himself into the chair aggressively, staring at Artemis with so much hatred. 

The brown haired man gave Arte a break while he sorted out a 'table' next to her with tools on it. She had ten minutes to try and think as best she could in the noise, but it seemed almost impossible to drown out. "You're quiet", the brown haired guy said in almost a questioning tone. He didn't want Artemis to be able to think about anything. "Most people usually cry by now, beg," he said off-handedly. 

Arte turned her head, tasting the blood, and spat it onto his boots "Well, your conversational skills are tragic at best. I almost fell asleep, I was so bored". The man threw a pair of pliers down and took off his gloves. Arte watched him through two narrowed eyes now that she was able to get them both open. 

He picked up a silver pin. Thin. Cold. Too thin to do any real damage, but enough to threaten. And if she were a wolf, burn. He pressed it against Arte's ribs, and she hissed, but didn't move. "Pressure points are my speciality," he murmured, almost kindly. "Even without force, magic or anything supernatural related, the body folds if handled properly. Spleen, kidney, joints. Nerves like wires" Arte rolled her eyes "Fascinating" "

she breathed "Do you charge for lectures, or is this part of your community service?" He smiled at her. At her sarcasm. At her ability to be strong and unwavering.

Then came the next wave.

Pressure behind her jaw, a blunt thumb at the hinge of her shoulder. A sharp tap to a nerve cluster near her hip that made her leg twitch involuntarily. The pain wasn't blinding - It was surgical, precise. Annoyingly effective for what he wanted...Reactions. 

Her jaw clenched. Chains rattled as her body strained against them. Breath hitching. 

"You'll crack", he whispered, "They always do", he said matter-of-factly, something he had a resume's worth of experience with. The raven-haired Princess tilted her head just enough to meet his cold, inky-black eyes. "You're wasting your time. I'm not afraid of pain" The man paused and searched her eyes, an eyebrow raised in question "No?"

"I'm afraid of my spaghetti going cold. Pain is just...Background noise" There was a long silence. The two stared at each other. Arte's eyes remained clear and determined. The man pursed his lips in frustration; no lie could be seen in this hostage's eyes. 

Then, a slow, disbelieving laugh. The bald man narrowed his eyes, getting up and cross the room "Is she fucking laughing?" he asked, almost like he'd never encountered such a situation before so he was in a state of semi-shock. 

"Almost", Arte coughed, grinning through split lips. "You boys talk like this is your first time taking a girl hostage. It's almost like you want my family to raid the place" brown-hair backhanded her the moment her lips stopped moving, stars swimming behind Artemis' eyes. 

"You're already done, SWEETHEART," she whispered, using the earlier term of endearment that the bald man used. Brown-hair's knuckles were red, Baldy's knuckles were pure white. Arte's vision blurred at the edges. But inside? She was steel. Her mother's daughter. This was a big chunk of the reason Arte had been chosen for the position from a young age, skipping over Khione. 

Khione never had it in her. But Artemis? Those mismatched eyes were dangerous and cold from the moment they opened. She was, in every sense, her mother's daughter. The difference was, Diana learned. Arte's was natural. 

"Keep going" Arte slurred, voice thick with exhaustion but stubborn "Every mark, every taunt, every time you even open your mouth to suck in air is the reason I won't be telling you a damn thing" She grinned wickedly. A grin so evil it was a struggle to see who was being tortured and who was doing the torturing. 

The bald man was so heated that he turned and angrily stomped out of the warehouse with a cigarette between his lips. The brown-haired guy hesitated, his lips pursed - Just for a second. And in that second, she smirked. Bloody, broken-lipped and smug. 

"If there's a next time - Which I doubt there will be - kidnap someone less stubborn" It was genuine advice. After all, stubborn people made horrific hostages. Especially those who were heir to the biggest crime organisation in the United Kingdom. 

"Why won't you just break?" The brown-haired guy asked with his brows furrowed in both irritation and curiosity that was borderline obsession. She lifted her head to look at the ceiling for a moment. Then, she lowered her head, her eyes landing on her little conversation partner "I tried that once. A few years ago. Didn't like it, so I decided not to do it again" he was obviously confused. Of course, he was. 

None of these men bore witness to the eight-year-old Artemis, who was so broken and angry that she had to be sent to her grandparents. One of the men who had been sitting at the poker table the whole time sighed and stood up "Let her stew for a while, we'll go get some takeout. People talk when they're alone with their thoughts" Arte looked up to watch them. The brown-haired guy stared at her for a few more moments before turning and following them out, turning the music off as he left. 

Now, it was just Arte and the sounds of her heartbeat. Arte smiled. None of them had realised that it wasn't her breaking. It was them. The brown-haired man was the one doing the torture, sure, but he was a weak link. Faulty wiring in his head, a God-complex. Seeing Artemis not crack stirred something in him, giving rise to the beginning of an obsession. Everyone cracks, he said. But Artemis wasn't 'everyone' like he thought, and that was what started the brown-haired link of the chain to begin pulling away. He'd be the one. The reason she'd be able to get out. 

But, along with herself, still drugged and exhausted from the torture, Artemis slowly began nodding off, a slight smile paining her cracked and bloodied lips. A little tiger awaited her in her dreams.