Am I the joke or joke is me?

"Venesa!" I heard Gale calling me from his bicycle from the low cliff. A few moments later he arrived in front of my porch and pressed his brake.

"Do you really think it's a good idea?" He asked. He had already asked me the same question almost five times at the office and now he was asking the same. But both of us knew I would not change my mind.

It was culture for a man of Hazael to not heed a woman, it was always the woman taking command. But since I believed I was right, I didn't listen to Gale.

Choosing not to reply to his already asked question, I silently sat on his bicycle and went off to the harbour while the dusking sun fell its last gleam on my face.

---

I thought of those moments when I had the chance to get away from the trouble I was currently facing. 

But the work had been done and now I sat on the cold floor of nothingness, inside a prison and far away from my home. Gale was correct. I should have stayed at home, listened to some classical or folk hazaelian music, cooked food and slept. 

This was the first time I regretted not heeding a man's word in my life. I was stupid to put both of our lives in danger and now I was unaware if Gale was alive or dead.

While my mind came with all sorts of regret, I didn't know how time passed until a jailer kicked a plate inside the cell. 

"Eat," he said.

I turned my head towards the food in the hope of something bad but oh! How wrong was I?

The food was not bad, not even worse; it was the worst food!

The sight of it was enough to make my stomach shrink inside myself. And I highly doubt it was food or something edible because all I could see was fungus dancing above the rice in the glaze.

I finalized the decision to look other way to avoid retching from its sight, and worse, its smell.

"Where am I?" I asked the jailers in the room. The two of them turned a deaf ear to me and resumed their former gossip.

I was not stupid to not know where I was.

I knew I was in the worst place of the nation.

But I wanted to hear, I wanted that confirmation. 

I didn't question again, instead, I stood from my place, walked towards the iron bar, squeezed the front part of my face from the iron cell and asked between shouting and singing opera, "BROTHERS~ AND SISTERS~, WHERE AM I~...?" 

I stretched the 'I' to a whole version of the musical scale.

Fortunately, my art of creativity caught their attention and they finally turned in to answer, maybe.

"Do all the Elite acts this way?" one of them asked to other. The next second both of them looked at each other before bursting into laughter. If that was a joke, I would probably rate it zero. 

"You are under the township of Ghost City." said the other while weeping the tears from his face.

The name of it was enough to raise thunder in my heart and thrill on my skin. I knew it.

It was my dream to find Ghost City and finally, I made it inside which was the good news, but coming as a prisoner was not. My future was uncertain; I might be executed in the next second or be poisoned.

"Eat your food, boss won't be waiting for long." 

I looked at the 'food' and said in defeat, "Sorry, I am not hungry."

Bad timing, my stomach growled as soon as I finished my statement. 

The jailers laughed again and murmured, "Stupid Elites."

And without wasting their time they opened the cell and I let them cuff my hand without any dispute. They definitely wanted some drama but to their displeasure, I didn't do anything.

And the next second, they dragged me out ungently and took me to their boss. We walked in a dark corridor before we reached a door lit by red light.

As they opened the door, I memorised the lock's number tune they pressed. We were taught to recognise tune at the defence school, and I could immediately recognise the number, 1544.

The door immediately opened as the right passcode was entered. The next moment, the men threw me inside the room and waited outside the door.

With a slam, I fell to the ground in a dark room. 

The dark room was lit by a red light while I saw two silhouettes, a man and a woman sitting on the spacious couch. 

The man held a glass in his right hand and the woman on his left. Both wore a mask of orange with black stripes which covered their eyes and nose.

"What should we do with her, Rose?" The man turned his gaze towards the lady beside him and asked.

"Kill her," 

The man lifted his hand from her thighs and lightly patted her cheeks across her masked face.

"I love your jealousy but," he continued patting before he sent a flying hand across her face. I flinched with the impacted sound. "work must be separated from love."

I remained seated on the floor and looked at them with shock, while my eyes widened involuntarily. 

For the moment I was here, regret and thrill were the only emotions I was feeling but now, the feeling of fear unlocked. I could not understand how and for what reason he concluded jealousy but I could concluded that he was a maniac, a monster.

The girl didn't react nor showed any emotion, it seemed she was used to his behaviour. She sat in seclusion and crossed her arm across her chest.

Now the maniac turned his face to me and asked, "What's your name, beautiful?"

"Swan," I lied.

"What's your surname?"

"Rosefire," I lied again.

"Alright, what's your father's name?"

"I grew up in an orphanage." the lie came out of my mouth even before I could think of it. My brain reacted as if it was waiting for this moment its whole life.

"Indeed, every prisoner becomes either a Dregs or an orphan upon arrival to Ghost City."

Shit!

The moment I heard the click of his belt, I noticed how badly my body shook with fear.

You are Police,

you are Detective,

you are Venesa

And you are freaking Brave!!

But all my bravery went away riding on the mosquito as I heard the maniac whipping the floor, as if testing the belts strength.

I flinched again and gasped aloud.

"An orphan on the port with her lover in an expensive dress? Alright, if I believe that, can you tell me which orphanage do you belong to?"

Again shit. I was wondering how I haven't shitted on my pants yet. My brain lagged and now I can't think of any name...

All I did was gulp down the leftover saliva and remain silent. 

I feel ashamed to call myself a detective when I can't even think of a valid answer in such a situation. Wait...Oh... Oh... this might work!

"I can't read nor write," I lied again. "I am unaware of the real name but we friends used to call it the 'Free Monkey Shelter'."

I didn't know whether the man was impressed and remained dumbfounded or if he was considering hitting me with those unimpressive lies.

But the man stood up from the couch and preceded his footsteps towards me. Upon reaching near me, he grabbed my chin and lifted my face towards his.

"A beautiful orphan girls like you are surely born to be my slave right?" he said and I could feel his hand travelling beyond the point of consent.

"I give you a last chance, confess your true self and get killed easily by the next day your father transfers money or pretend to be my slave and die every day." he declared enthusiastically.

To me, both sounded tempting. But I chose the latter.

"I am telling the truth," I said with newfound determination. Fine, if I came to this stage, destiny definitely had something for me or otherwise, nothing.

"Alright, since you are uneducated, you will surely not know how to sign," his enthusiasm rose as he continued, "So, I bind your slavery contract with me by the mark of this belt on your body--sit straight and be ready to take the hit."

With my hands cuffed, I straightened my body and closed my eyes anticipating the whip.

I closed my eyes tighter as the air around the belt swooped but before the belt could hit me, the door in the room flew open and a mysterious man wearing a white mask with black straps shouted, "Tiger, stop this bullshit."

But he was too late because the very next moment the man spoke, the belt whipped my skin in a fast fraction of a second.