Nebula’s the name

George became uneasy as Reginald approached the door. He was almost drifting away from his seat when the door suddenly opened.

As the door swung open, he was surprised to see the mistress entering. Her confident stride and elegant bearing were evident as she walked towards them, carrying her purse in her left hand.

"Welcome back, ma'am. You're earlier than expected," Reginald greeted with a polite smile and a slight bow as he extended his hand to take her purse.

"Yes, the meeting concluded sooner than anticipated," she replied with a nod and a smile, handing him the purse. As soon as he took it, Reginald swiftly exited the room, leaving his mistress and George alone, gently closing the door behind him.

Her gaze turned from Reginald to George. As their eyes met, George stood up from his seat. She approached him with a warm smile.

The look on his face changed from one of comfort to seriousness, as if Reginald's departure had taken with it the small sense of ease George had felt moments before.

George's expression hardened as she approached him, determination etched on his face. He had been biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to demand his freedom once more. Straightening his posture, he fixed her with an intense gaze.

"Hey, lady witch or whatever you're called. I insist that you release me from this place immediately," George stated, his voice steady but laced with a commanding tone.

She sighed before speaking, "Not even a 'how was your day?' or 'how was work?' Nothing. Just straight to demanding your freedom?" She asked, her tone tinged with disappointment.

"Well, I don't care about that. All I know is my freedom," George replied, his determination unwavering.

Her brow furrowed, taken aback by his boldness. "Look, we've been through this earlier, haven't we?" she asked, her tone tinged with impatience. "You are far too great a threat to be allowed outside,"

George clenched his jaw, undeterred by her words. "And who made you the judge of that? You have no right to keep me here against my will," he countered. "I demand that you grant me my freedom, or there will be consequences."

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. "Are you threatening me,?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"It's a promise, lady mistress!" George retorted, holding her gaze unflinchingly. "If you continue to hold me here, I swear, I'd do something we'd both live to regret and I will not be held responsible for my actions."

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. "You truly underestimate the danger you pose to the outside world. Don't you?" she said, her tone laced with a mixture of pity and warning.

George let out a derisive snort. "You speak of danger? You, a witch, lecture me on posing a threat?" He shook his head, his eyes alight with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"I am nothing like you witches," he continued. "You barge into people's homes, casting magic and killing people's wives. One of your kind....." He paused and sighed shaking his head out of anger.

The witch lady simply stared at him, to her all that came out of his mouth now were simply the ramblings of a mad man.

"Well, I don't know what you're saying," she scoffed. "But at least we have control over our powers. You, on the other hand, are a bloodthirsty beast, driven by insatiable hunger and primal instincts. Do you not understand that I'm trying to help you here? I'm trying to keep you safe!"

George's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "From what?! Help me how? I have more control than you give me credit for," he growled.

"Is your definition of 'control' going about feeding on thieves?" she asked, her gaze mocking and curious.

"That one....was...!" George started, but paused, not really sure of how to justify himself at the moment.

The lady abruptly sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Look, young man," the lady began before George cut her off.

"The name's George to you and I'm pretty sure I'm older than you so don't call me 'Young man'," George said angrily. The witch slapped her forehead as she heard George say those words. Was he being serious right now? Well, she had no time.

"George, you're not listening," she said, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I'm not your enemy here."

George opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, silencing him. "Hear me out," she implored. "I understand your frustration, your desire for freedom. But you have to believe me when I say that I'm not doing this out of malice or ill intent."

George scoffed, his disbelief evident in his expression. "Then why keep me confined like some kind of animal?" he demanded, his voice laced with bitterness.

The witch's expression softened, her eyes holding a hint of sadness. "Because it's for your own protection, as well as the safety of others," she explained gently.

George opened his mouth to argue, but she pressed on. "I'm not trying to chase you or persecute you, George. I'm trying to help you."

George regarded her warily, his jaw clenched as he weighed her words. A part of him wanted to believe her, to trust that her intentions were pure, but since when did trusting someone who kidnapped him become wise?

Before he could formulate a response, a voice echoed through the corridor. "Nebula?"

...

"Nebula!!!"

"Where are you?"

Her head whipped towards the sound of the voice, her expression shifting from one of contemplation to sudden alarm.

"No, no, you can't be seen! Stay put," she hissed at George, her voice low and urgent. "Do not leave this room until I give you the all-clear, do you understand?"

George's eyes narrowed, "And who are you to tell me that?" He protested.

"I'm not asking,," she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Sister, feeling unworthy of my presence once more?" The voice called out again, closer this time.

She cursed under her breath, shooting George one last pointed look before rushing towards the door. "I mean it," she whispered fiercely. "Don't you dare step foot outside this room."

Before George could voice his objection, Nebula slipped out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind her and twisting the lock with a decisive click.

"No, you can't do this!" George shouted, his fists pounding against the unyielding wood. "Let me out of here"

His demands were met with silence, fueling his growing frustration. "I know you can hear me, witch!" he bellowed, his voice laced with rage. "This is unlawful imprisonment, and I won't stand for it!"

Still, there was no response from the other side of the door. George let out a guttural growl as he contemplated his next move.

"Nebula, so that's her name?" George stepped back, heading towards the bed. Whomever it was, it was clear Nebula didn't want them to see him. Perhaps the police? Maybe they noticed something was wrong?

If that's the case, his best bet was making sure the police found him. And the only way to do that was with plenty of noise.