Suffering Builds Character

Sidonie was never more thankful for a shower in her life. She wasn't expecting the water to be warm, judging by the run down warehouse she realized they were in, and it was a pleasant surprise when she discovered it actually was. She was in the shower for a long while, and she figured Barsad was irritated with the length of it, but she couldn't care less. She needed the time, he would just have to accept it. She tried to guard the bandage as well as she could. Once she was out of the shower and dressed in someone's old black sweater and a pair of cargo pants similar to Barsad's, she stepped out of the washroom area to find Barsad sitting against the wall. He looked up when she appeared and stood.
"Feel better?" he asked with a grin. She nodded, attempting to return the grin, and started following him once again through the old warehouse. "You will get your answers, but I'm not the one to give them to you," he said over his shoulder. He led her outside, where she saw there was nothing around the building but a dirt parking lot, a gate surrounding the building, and a dirt road leading out into half dead fields of grass. A long walk around the side of the warehouse revealed a smaller building. They walked up to the door and Barsad knocked. The door opened but no one appeared on the inside. Sidonie looked up at Barsad with a questioning gaze. His only answer was a hand gesture toward the inside. She looked back to the door that stood ajar, and Barsad turned to leave her. She thought about calling him back in a moment of panic, but thought better of it. She was scared, but she wouldn't let herself look weak. She pushed the door open further gingerly and took a few slow steps inside.
She was met with an office like setting. There was a desk covered in papers and two monitors. There were papers pinned up to the walls, cords and gadgets also strewn over the room. There was a strange noise to her side, a noise that sounded like breathing. It sounded almost strained, as if being forced through some machine. She looked toward the sound and found a man kneeling down on the ground, facing away from her. A black shirt was stretched over the back of the man. His back was broad and through the shirt, she could tell he was a rather muscular man. When he stood up, she almost shrunk back toward the door. He was a wall of a man, especially for her small stature, and stood with a very intimidating air about him. When he turned to face her, she couldn't help the shock taking over her face. There was an intricately designed mask covering his face, with spiderlike tubes surrounding the mouth piece. The mask gave the man an even more menacing appearance. Meeting his eyes for a very brief moment, she saw they were hard and cold. She turned her eyes to the floor and chewed her bottom lip, unsure of what to do.
"Close the door, please," he said before walking toward his desk with heavy footsteps. She jumped a little at the sound of his voice. It was low and mechanized, an accent touching the startling sound. She did as she was told, and shut the door behind her, but made no move to leave her spot by it. "I apologise for the trouble my men caused you. They paid the price for their actions," the man spoke again. Sidonie couldn't muster any words to speak, so settled for staring at the floor, her arms wrapped around her ribs. "What is your name?" she heard the mechanized voice, and turned her blue eyes back up to him to find he was now facing her.
"Sidonie Domitrovich," she muttered, trying to sound more confident than she felt. He was quiet for a moment.
"You're scared," he noted. She held her head up a little more.
"Shouldn't I be?" she said, voice quiet. She didn't want to hear the shaking of her voice if she spoke any louder.
"You have just been through a frightening ordeal. Not only that, but you are in a strange place full of strange men. No one would expect you to feel any different," the man said, his voice sounding amused. "You have nothing to fear in this room, Sidonie. I have no ill intentions. I'm simply going to give you answers," he said.
"Where am I?" she asked, then.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you exactly where you are, I can only say you haven't left the state," he said. She sighed. If this was going to be the nature of her answers, then what was the point?
"Okay... Who are you, then?" she asked, shifting on her feet nervously.
"You may call me Bane."
"What is this place?" she continued.
"This is simply a temporary settlement." Sidonie knew there was much more to it, but she knew prying any further wouldn't get her anywhere.
"Why exactly am I here?" she questioned.
"You were injured. You needed the help, and we provided it to you," Bane said. She nodded a bit, moving a wet strand of her blonde hair out of her eyes.
"So what now?"
"Now, you rest. You must be tired after what you've been through. After you have rested yourself, we will talk about your options," he said, gesturing a hand to the bed set off in the corner. She stared up at him dumbly for a moment, unsure of what to do. She had a fleeting feeling that this man wasn't always so generous. She almost squeaked in fear when she realized he had approached her and had a hand on her back, gently pushing her toward the bed. "I will leave you to your privacy. No one will bother you here. I will check on you later," Bane said, walking toward the door when she was sitting on the edge of the bed. As strange and out of place as she felt, she couldn't help but take up the request. She was exhausted, after all. As soon as the door was shut and locked, she pulled off her boots and curled into a ball on the old bed, facing the wall and falling asleep almost instantly, despite her buzzing nerves.