Hello! well this is for all my Bering and Wells shippers, who absolutely adore our ladies. I have had this story in my head for a long time and I was always afraid to write it, cause I do not think I am any good at writing, so if there are mistakes I apologize. This chapter is obviously the beginning where a lot of things may be explored, some may stick to the actual show line or I may add or remove from it or just drastically change it. Bering and Wells is end game! I repeat End Game! Canon whatever you wanna call it. I do have the next couple of chapters planned out, it just needs to be written. I will try my best to probably post once a week. This story has a plot or line or whatever you wanna call it and it follows an ancient Greek Myth, it will eventually make it's presence known. I do have tumblr feel free to follow me and message. Reviews will make my day as well :D fav and follow :D
According to Ancient Greek Mythology it is said that originally humans consisted of four arms, four legs and a single head made of two faces, but Zeus feared their power and split them all in half condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other to complete them.
...
Vengeance
The sounds of their footsteps against the cobblestone road echoed in the dark night. She had done it, well sort of. This was after all the first half of her plan. She had spent months stalking and learning all she could before she could make her move and it paid off, cause now here she was walking just two paces ahead of them. They were her targets. She had been on and off following them whenever she was free from the Warehouse, but tonight had been different. She could no longer wait.
The stress and the grief was beginning to take it's toll. She was crumbling inside. She was now becoming a shadow of who she use to be. She knew all of this, but yet she had allowed the grief, so quickly to turn to vengeance. If only her brother Charles could see her now. The great and powerful H. science fiction author reduced to this. To this beast so consumed by rage and hungry for justice.
Her plan tonight was to get the targets to her lab. She'd successfully gotten them out the pub, by flaunting her feminine attributes, as a lady of the night. They had so easily taken the bait. Now they were halfway near the lab. "Bart, pass me the whiskey" one of the targets said.
She had learned his name was Alistair, He wasn't as fit as she would have thought him to be judging from the turmoil he'd caused so many people, herself included. He was rather skinny, with sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes.
"It's so bloody cold" Alistair said yet again as he had his hand out stretched to his friend Bart.
"It's always cold you idiot, it's bloody England" Bart said as he took a swig from the whiskey before he passed it over to Alistair. Bart on the other hand, she could tell would be hard to break. He was almost 6 feet tall, strong arms and a rather round stomach. His blonde hair was shaggy and covered his eyes, so much that he had to keep moving his hair out of the way so he could see."why else would we have that whiskey and this whore" Bart laughed as slipped his arm around HG's waist and pulled her close. She could smell the putrid smell of cheap whiskey on his breath. She then tore his grip from around her waist as she continued to walk keeping her silence. She wanted to act, but now was not the
Time or place. She had to remind herself of that as she tried to calm her mind.
"How much further? I'm getting tired of all this walking" Alistair said as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, being so
careful not to spill the cheap whiskey.
"We have been walking a while now, haven't we Al?" Bart said as he stopped suddenly, causing HG to stop and turn in the direction of her targets. "Whores normally have their place of business close to where they pick up every tom, dick and harry." He said as he approached HG. She could swear she heard the rusted gears in his mind beginning to creak and groan as he tried to think.
"perhaps this one is no Whore. Perhaps she is leading us to an ambush" Bart said matter of fact, causing Al to take in his surroundings.
HG had lead them to the bank of river Thames, a lonely and desolate area, that during the day were filled with merchants purchasing goods and fishermen plying their trade. A fog was beginning to roll in off the water and started giving the area an even more eerie feel. She was so close. Her make shift lab was less than a stone throw away. She can't fail she can't. She'd come so close, spent all this time. She closed her eyes for a second and an instant flood of memories races through her mind. The slight panic that had just begun to rise up in her chest was replaced by bitterness and anger, but was over run by the feeling of hate. Her hands formed fist, her breathing came hard and she snapped! With her quick thinking, and her training in kenpÅ she easily took Bart by the arm pulling him to her and kneeing him in the gut, she saw as he fell clutching his stomach, she quickly turned to Al who had stood only a few steps away, only for her to be greeted with a punch to the face as she stumbled back ward holding on to her jaw. The paining sang a glorious song with in her head, screaming and making her lose her bearing. She felt herself being pulled, almost dragged before being hit in the gut. She fell on her knees, as she heard Bart laughing, she turned to face him as he got up from the cobblestone and proceeded to dust of his disgusting looking overcoat.
" You think some whore would get the better of us?" he bellowed out as he laughed. HG sat there, trying to get he bearing. She did not come this far to be beaten, to allow them to get the better of her. The thoughts of Christina blared in her mind. The thoughts of never being able to hold her darling daughter again, no more memories to be made, no more light in her life. It was at that moment, she felt her blood began to boil, she tighten her muscles as she began to shake with rage.
"Look Bart! The harlot is getting angry" Al laughed as he pointed to HG's crouched figure. HG raised her head and stared straight at him, she was not aware of anything else around her, she felt neater the chill of the night or heard the horse drawn carriages in the distance, what had been building up had suddenly broke and she will make them pay!
HG lunged at Al elbowing him in the jaw as Bart quickly in turn attacked, she deflected his punch with a kick to the gut, as he knelt over holding on to his stomach she began repeatedly kicking him, using the technique she was sure would do the job in subduing, for she has greater plans in store for the night. Bart tried to get the upper hand by getting hold of her leg and pulled her, as if to trip her,but she quickly hit him in the face as hard as she could muster and she watched as he fell limply back to the cobblestone.
She quickly turned around, as Al rushed her and she easily side stepped him as he tripped and fell into some empty crated that lined the alleyway.
"please, mercy!" he yelled out, his cowardice showing. " just let me go" he said as he got himself out of the crates. " I want no trouble."HG did not reply, she just stood there eyes focused on her next target. There was no way she would let him go, if he thinks so then he is a fool. "I'll just take my friend and go." he said as he made to approach a now unconscious Bart. HG had had enough, she quickly delivered a kick to Al's head and watched as he fell to the cobblestone. She had broken past her patience, all her planning, all this time, she wanted her vengeance and she was going to have it.
...
In his semi consciousness Bart could hear the faint sound of screaming, he had been drifting in and out, for how long he could not be sure. The pulsing pain in his head was nothing he had ever felt before. He closed his eyes, not sure he could open them. He sat there listening, the faint sounds of screaming had now become a deafening howl. He was not sure where it was coming from, it echoed on the walls. He tried to move, but felt his arms could not budge. He was restrained. He slowly opened his eyes, but the moment he opened them, everything around him swirled. He tried again to open them and again the swirling took hold of him. He had seen nothing of importance as he studied what he was seeing beyond the swirling. It was all dark. He felt his stomach twisting, ready to empty itself, he quickly closed his eyes shut. He sat there trying to regain his strength. He tried to get his arms freed, but he only succeeded in digging his skin raw against the restraints. He listened to the screams, barely able to make out words hidden within them. Beyond the constant screaming he could hear a female voice shouting, "Tell me! Tell me what you did!" followed by more screaming. Fear rose within him, he fought against the restraints once more. He needed to get out of here. He tried to think back to what had happened. To what he had done that winded him up here. It came to him slowly. The whore! He was right, it had been an ambush. "Bart! Bart!". He heard his name
being screamed and just like that the screaming had stopped and silence pierced his surroundings. He held his breath. The sounds of metal rustling caught his attention. The sounds of whimpering could be heard above the sounds of metal. Then there were footsteps, he heard them far off, but they were
now approaching. With his eyes still closed, he felt himself being dragged across the floor. He briefly opened his eyes, only for them to be bombarded with light. Least his surroundings were no longer swirling. He then felt himself being braced against a cool wall. Then heard the dragging of chains and felt them being clamped around his hands and ankles. He looked up only to see the figure of a shadow, made from the light, moving across what looked like a small room.
The room around him, cluttered with metal and wooden crates, to the far left of the room he could see a table covered with objects he could not make out. His attention then wandered around, looking for a possible way out, but there was none, even if he could get himself out of the chains, there was no way out, it was impossible now. "Bart is it?" The clearly feminine voice said as the sound of objects being tinkered with sounded from the table. " I hadn't been entirely sure that was your name. I had been following you and your friend for quiet sometime." she said as she gestured to the corner of the room. In the corner attached to chains was a figure curled up with a small pool of red liquid next to it.
"Al?!" Bart yelled as his eyes opened wider. He thought he looked like Al, but it couldn't be. The figure that laid there, looked utterly beaten and broken.
"I'm afraid yes." the feminine voice said. As she moved from around the table, so fluidly she looked to be hoovering. What had been a figure in the shadow, now appeared to be dressed in gray trousers and cream shirt with a gray waist coat. Her hair was done up in a simple bun. It was then that it dawned to him that this was the whore from last night. He remembered her beauty, after all it was what had him seek her services for the night, as he took in her appearance fully he could see that she had skin as white and smooth as porcelain. Her hair the colour of the midnight sky, her eyes dark and brooding.
" You crazy whore! What have you done to him!" Bart barked loudly. His voice echoing in the room.
"Oh come now Bart. How rude of you to address me as a whore." She said as she approached, banishing a small blade." The names Helena." She said as she pointed the blade to him
Bart struggled, pulling and thrashing the chains that held him. He told himself whatever happened, he wouldn't go down without a fight. HG approached him, kneeling she brandish the blade to his face and at the slightest touch he felt the stinging and the warm liquid spreading in the wake of the blade. Bart sucked in air and gritted his teeth." why are you doing this!" he spat out. The midnight hair woman looked at him, her brooding eyes now reflected a look of surprise.
" As if you don't know!" she yelled as she stood up and backed up a few steps. " It took your friend a while to remember!" She walked towards him, her steps faster as she kicked him in his gut. . His face twisted with pain. " You killed her! You killed my Christina!"she said as she again kicked him. "I'll make it so you never forget! I'll make it so you remember the name Christina Wells and what you've done!"
...
Sweat dripped off her brow. How long was she standing here, she could not tell. The screams of this man before her, now seemed like white noise to her, she was more focused on causing as much pain as she could, without killing him of course. She knew how to cause pain without it leading to death. She was after all an avid lover of science. She, along with the help of her brother Charles, had written textbooks on the subject of biology, so she was sure she knew the anatomy of the human
body quiet well enough.
" please i beg you... mercy!" the strained horse voice screamed in agony.
"mercy?! you beg for mercy?! there was none showed to Christina! None for my child!" Helena yelled back as she pulled harder on the chains, causing Bart to scream out again. He now laid on a table, his hands and ankles that had been attached to chains were now connected to gears that Helena controlled, the more tension she brought on them, the more they pulled, causing Bart's body to pull at either end. His fingers were curled in unnatural angles, his face red and sweaty, streaked with dried
blood. His icy blue eyes were now blood shot. He was now looking like the animal he was.
"You bitch!" Bart yelled out as he spat blood at HG's face. She wiped the blood off her face. Helena's insides shook with disgust and anger. She let the gears run slack as she moved quickly to her table and grabbed hold of a blade and moved so fast and fluid like to Bart as she pressed the cold steel against his neck. She looked into his eyes, she could see the silent plead in them. He was baiting her, wanting her to kill him, but death will be too easy, she was not yet finished with him.
Al had told her what they had done. How they broke in expecting no one to be at the house, how they encountered Sophie, the nanny and her constant yelling for someone named Christina. She heard that
Sophie had fought well, gaining a blow to her head, and that was when Christina had showed herself. She was in her night gown. She had started screaming and they had tried to get her to shut up and she wouldn't and that was when Bart struck poor Christina in the head with a silver candle stick. Helena looked into those icy pools and searched further in them, hoping to find some sort of answer, something more that would tell her why they had struck a defenseless 8 year old. Bart had said nothing when she questioned him, he had no remorse for anything he had done, she had wanted to kill him, but death was far too good for him."if you're going to kill me, do it!" Bart snarled as he stared challengingly into HG's dark eyes.
Helena broke the stare and stepped back, dropping the knife. She ran her hands down her hair that was long undone from the class Victorian bun she had had it. She took a deep breath. She was tired. She cupped her face in her hands and covered her eyes with her fingers and slowly let out the breath she took. She had spent months planning all this, searching for the men responsible for the death of Christina, her daughter. She had been holding off for a while, before she allowed herself to confront them, but after last nights futile attempt to change what had happened, she could no longer wait. Her anger and heartache had push forward her plans. She had left Wolcott that morning after an artifact hunt to scout for an appropriate setting in which she would make the men pay for what they had done. She knew she was cutting it close, too close to the Warehouse agents finding out what she was up to, but it was a chance she was more than willing to take. No one understood her, not even her brother
Charles. Charles of course grieved for Christina, but he did not and could not understand the grief that consumed a mother. A mother... the thought of it made her heart ache. Was she even a mother? She was a poor excuse for one. She was always away doing the Warehouse's business, always away from her daughter.
The Warehouse, better known as Warehouse 12 was an organization responsible for the retrieval and archiving of artifacts that held power that the world wasn't yet ready for, or never will be ready for. She was known as Helena G Wells, Warehouse 12 agent and an agent of Scotland Yard. She was but only a pawn in the Warehouse. What had seem such an endless wonder, now lost it's appeal to her. Blame was now a thing in endless supply, she threw it wildly at everyone, especially herself.
She had sent Christina to her cousins. It was meant to be a simple family holiday, but Helena was called away on Warehouse business and had no choice but to send Christina on ahead, with the promise to meet her there in a couple of days, but for Helena, those days had turned to weeks. The artifact they were hunting was proving to be far elusive. It had been 2 weeks before she arrived back at the Warehouse, artifact in hand, when she was handed the telegram that told her the news of Christina's death. Christina had been sick and was left at the house, in the care of the nanny Sophie, while the cousins were off in town that day when there had been a robbery at the cousin's home. Sophie the nanny, had tried to fight them off, but could not get to Christina in time. Helena's thoughts since then was, who and why? She had vowed the day of Christina's funeral to find the monsters responsible and make them pay dearly for it.
Helena withdrew her hands from her face and took in her surroundings. She took in the room. The torch dancing shadows on the walls. The rhythmic dripping of water from the ceiling. She looked at the broken and bent man laying in the corner, Al. His whimpering had at last stopped. She moved closer to him, looking for any signs that he was still alive. It was never her intention to kill any of them. It was only just to hurt them, like the way she had been hurt. her emotional pain stretching far beyond that, emotional. She looked at him closely, she could see his uneven breathing. He was alive. Bart gasp and coughed as he laid on the table. She was not done. She slowly walked to the table. Her footsteps emanating through the small room. She sifted through her instruments of torture, looking for something
that will induce pain far efficiently. Her mind was traveling at a speed far greater than that of a 4 horse carriage, when her thoughts were interrupted by the echoing of footsteps. She looked around the small room. Bart still laid on the table and Al in the corner. What was she hearing?
"HG..." She heard echo through out.