Once again, Oscar pounded on the door of his 'cell', an otherwise lavish room if not for the bars on the window and locked door.
That scorpion man just threw him in here, chuckling incessantly as if he just heard the world's greatest dead baby joke. No other dialogue, no explanation, just toss the boy in the room and lock him away.
Oscar had a bit of an idea what was going on. He knew this was Salem's fortress, he knew that his chances of getting out of here were slim, and he hoped that the rest of the team would be on their way, soon, to save him...except none of them even knew he was here, did they? He's the one who ran away in the middle of the night. They probably don't even know, or care.
And it's not like Ozpin was any help when that scorpion attacked out of nowhere. The old man's voice hasn't resonated in the boy's head for days, now, maybe he really was gone.
Oscar gave up trying to force the door open and went to go relax on the bed. It really was a comfortable thing, which surprised him. He thought this place would be like a nightmare, a dread fortress of no escape, yet this bed was very comfortable, much more so than even his own back at the farm. It was so nice, he could just pass out...
After what seemed like several hours, the door finally unlocked and creaked open. Oscar scrambled out of the bed and to his feet, trying his best to put on a brave face.
Into the room walked a woman he recognized, even if he'd never met her before. He'd seen her visage before, in Jinn's tale and in Ozpin's memories. This was Salem, the single greatest threat to the world, and Ozpin's true enemy. She looked down at him with what he guessed was a mix of hatred and amusement, eyes narrow on the boy.
"Welcome, Ozpin. I must say it's taken quite a while for my agents to find you," she began, "But now, here you are. I know you must be trying to figure a way to escape, but don't try anything foolish. A flick of my hand is all I'd need to destroy that body you're in, and neither of us wants to go through the effort of hunting down your next vessel."
"You'll be staying here as my prisoner, now, instead of as my partner. You can watch from this room as I hunt down the remaining maidens and snuff out the last hope this world has. I look forward to seeing your miserable face when this work is done." She taunted.
"Ozpi-He's not here, you've wasted your speech." Oscar stuttered, but still put up the bravest voice he had. If he was going to die here, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him terrorized.

Salem's response came only after a few seconds of utter silence. "...What was that?" Her voice was almost inaudible, less so than even a whisper, but Oscar heard it nonetheless.

"Ozpin, he's not here. I don't know what he did, but he locked himself away in my mind when the others learned his past. He didn't hear any of that, so...so you're wasting your time, lady!" Oscar yelled the last part, in a mix of anger and pride in his situation.
Salem closed her eyes, contemplating something, then slowly turned to leave. "You will be staying here, regardless. I'll have someone come by with your meal later. Until then, get comfortable." She said with some level of sarcasm, then left, and the boy was alone once again.

Getting comfortable wasn't difficult, since the bed, if nothing else, was soft and accommodating, he had plenty of room to lay, but also had time to think. He was going to rebel against this Salem woman's plans, even if in only the smallest ways, and he knew where to start.

When the door opened next, it was some strange, floating grimm which brought in a tray of food. Oscar, however, did not partake of the meal, or the next one, or the one after that, or any of the food brought to him. His stomache ached and growled, and while he did sip the water in desperation, he never once bit any of the food laid out for him, no matter what. If nothing else, he was going to die on his own terms.

It had been roughly three days since he arrived when the door burst straight off it's hinges and a furious-looking Salem stepped into his cell. "What. Are. You. Doing." She demanded. Oscar, now too weak to offer much of a response, just laid on the bed and smiled at her, knowing that his little resistance was at least angering the world's greatest evil. She walked over to where he lay. "You are going to eat, because that is what I have decreed." She spat, simply, then leaned down to grab him.

Despite trying to get away, the boy was too weak to offer any real resistance at this point. Though he did struggle briefly, Salem easily moved him around, placing his head on her lap as she sat down. From there, she was able to force food down his tired throat until he had eaten every last bite from today's tray. He spat and coughed, and between blinks could have almost sworn he saw her smiling as exhaustion caught up to him and he faded into sleep...

Over the next few days this routine would play out, a little less dramatic each time. Oscar would refuse to eat, and Salem would force him to. Over time, he found himself struggling less and less, and becoming more, well, he didn't know what it was, but one day, with his head in her lap, Salem would run her fingers through his hair and the curiosity got the better of him.

"Why do you care if I die or not?" He finally asked her, looking up. "Ozpin isn't really here, what do you have to gain from this?"

Salem, for her part, said nothing initially, but after some pause..."Hush now, and get some rest, I'll be back tomorrow...."

Oscar didn't know what to say in response, but as he slipped into dreams once again, he didn't find himself hoping for rescue as urgently as he initially believed...