Hans had been foraging inside one of the cars’ trunk. He emerged with the biggest weapon I’d ever seen, and a sadistic smile.

He took a few steps towards me, then took the typical spread legged bad guy pose. All he missed was a cigar and a hat. “You like the cars, pet? Well then, you’ll love Helga. She’s a real hottie.”

A flamethrower. The bastard was making puns with a flamethrower pointed at my midsection. I didn’t expect subtlety but this was beyond ridiculous. It achieved its goal though. I stopped laughing, and so did Perceneige. This shit was serious.

“Helga really wants to smell the delicious aroma of your burning flesh, but we have some questions to ask and an example to make. She’ll be nice as long as you comply. Clear?” 

I nodded. Percy didn’t move. She was glaring at him, head high despite the odd sitting position she was in, nothing but defiance in her posture. Gods I loved her. For what felt like a small eternity, they locked eyes and fought a silent battle of wills. I forgot to breathe, enraptured by the sight. Hans was fidgeting, nervous. Perceneige was still as a statue, proud and disdainful. He lost this fight, looked away first. Finally Perceneige acknowledged his threat with a slight nod. I breathed again.

Hans directed his minions to put us into the cars. They untied us for some reason. Percy shook her head again: still not the right time. We were lifted to our feet, then they tied our hands. Mine behind my back, Percy’s in front of her. They were making a point I couldn’t understand. 

We were tossed in. Not together, of course. They weren’t stupid enough to allow us to make plans. 

The car I was in stank of warm leather, sweat and toxic masculinity. It made me want to barf. When Moron n°1 started the engine and followed the car before us, the stench got worse.

“Can you open a window?” I asked, knowing the answer. None. The two minions in the front didn’t bother to turn around. All right assholes, if you’re going to ignore me, I won’t make it easy for you. I grinned, knowing exactly what would make them react. I started singing “I want to break free”, at the top of my lungs. “I want to break free!” I knew it by heart. It had been one of my favorite songs even before I knew what it meant.

I had barely reached the end of the first verse when Moron n°2, the one who wasn’t driving, groaned. “Won’t you shut the fuck up, you stupid little whore?” I sang louder.

The insults kept coming, barely covered by my broken mezzo-soprano interpretation of Queen. Moron n°1 started zig-zagging, making me fly from one side of the car to the other. I hadn’t been allowed a seatbelt. I didn’t care. The thumps of my body hitting the doors were the rhythm to my melody. It hurt, but they’d need to do better than that to shut me up.

When the song ended, they sighed. The zig-zagging stopped. They expected me to be done with my bullshit. They were wrong.

Nirvana followed Queen, and I planned to move on to Iron Maiden and maybe Aerosmith. Or Metallica. But before I could show the depths of my musical knowledge, Moron n°1 relented.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Cole, open the damned window”, he shouted. He sounded frustrated. I couldn’t help but snicker. “Why thank you good sirs, very kind of you”, I said. I’d won this round and we all knew it. I still had power.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, broken at times by low mutters. I pressed my face to the half open window, breathing in the fresh air. There was a grin on my face, and I knew it looked cruel. Percy would be proud of me. She’d laugh, even. I couldn’t wait to tell her.

My smile faded when I remembered Percy was in Hans’ car. With the flamethrower and the meanest, ugliest minions. I could only hope she wasn’t hurt too bad.