I have a weird request for a snippet... maybe a deaf hero who’s been captured so they don’t have any of the things they need and this is when the villain realizes that they are deaf? (I love your work by the way!)
It could be difficult to catch everything going on at the best of times.In panic, it was impossible.
Their head throbbed and the adrenaline wrung out their insides and they couldn’t see. The blindfold rested heavy on their eyes, cool and dark and they couldn’t see.
The protagonist couldn’t even explain themselves through the gag.
They didn’t know if the guard had turned on them out of pure spite, or because they assumed the protagonist was being deliberately insolent and ignoring them.
The protagonist still felt though. The sharp ache of a foot colliding into their already bruised side, the smack of a hand burning across their cheek and -
And nothing.
No sound, and only darkness.
They could taste blood in their mouth, as coppery and wrong as everything else.
They braced themselves as best as they could, breath coming rapidly behind the sodden fabric pressed against their tongue. Their heart slammed.
Air displaced near them. They flinched, despite promising themselves that they wouldn’t.
Gloved hands caught each side of their face. The protagonist wrenched against the grip. The hands tightened. The grip held for a moment, two, firm but not unkind, until the protagonist realized they weren’t about to get smacked again and went still enough on their own accord.
The hands moved up, working the blindfold free and letting it droop around the protagonist’s neck.
The protagonist inhaled a startled breath.
They recognized the antagonist, of course, but they’d never seen them up close. Definitely not this close, only inches away. They tended to fight across distances, and in ways where they wouldn’t have to compensate so heavily for the lack of sound.
The two of them stared at each for a beat.
The antagonist’s gaze was sharp and assessing and, if the protagonist wasn’t mistaken, a little surprised.
The protagonist swallowed.
One of the guards had backed up into the corner, trembling, eyes fixed on the antagonist with fright. They sported a bloody nose.
They continued to stare at each other, until the protagonist’s breathing began to settle and the fog of panic had thinned to a less disorientating fear.
The antagonist’s hand moved to brush along the shell of their ear, lightly enough to make a shiver run down the protagonist’s spine. The antagonist’s head tilted in question.
“Can you hear me?” The antagonist’s lips moved with a deliberate slowness, forming the words carefully.
The protagonist considered their options for a second, considered lying, before giving a tired shake of their head.
“Not the explosion,” the antagonist said.
The protagonist snorted. No, not the antagonist’s damn explosion.
A smirk tugged at the antagonist’s lips that didn’t quite ring true. “Explains why you always stared at me so. And there was me thinking we had a special something, I’m hurt.”
The protagonist scowled at them.
The antagonist’s smirk turned more real, before they rose to their feet. Their mouth quickened as they tossed orders to their various guards and employees.
“Take a deep breath,” the antagonist said.
The blindfold turned the world dark again.
The next time it was removed, they were cuffed to a bolted down table, with a pen and paper in front of them.
The antagonist sat patiently on the other side of the table, all business and a quirked eyebrow. They drew the protagonist’s attention to the notebook.
Start with your real name and address, if you want me to pick up your supplies. You’re going to be here for a while :)
The protagonist’s heart sank.
