Title: Revenge
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.
Characters: Charles, Masked Assassin, Nathan, mentions of the rest of Dethklok
Pairings: Nathan/Charles pre-slash
Warnings: Non-in-depth Non-con, Violence, Death, and Hurt & Comfort.
Summary: He was getting his revenge and all Charles could do was keep silent and refuse to let the monster hear anymore screams.
AN: It's pretty dark, but I like seeing my favorite characters in pain for some reason. I'm weird like that.
Charles screamed in absolute agony as Nathan's lifeless body fell to the ground, lying with the other still members of his band mates.
The only thing Charles could do was struggle against the bindings that bound his wrists and ankles. He tried to look away, away from the blood and death, but the contraption hooked to his head and chair forced him to watch. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but he kept them in. He would not cry, he would not give the monster the satisfaction.
The man in the mask walked towards him, dagger fresh with Nathan's, no all of their blood, in his fist. Once close enough he wiped the blade clean on Charles' once white dress shirt, which now hung loosely on his body, ripped open revealing various bleeding cuts and bruises.
Charles tried to free himself once again, clamping his mouth shut so no more sounds could come out. It was bad enough he already cried out, but he refused to do so again. He refused to give the monster the pleasure of hearing anymore of his screams. The larger man laughed as he tried to remove the head piece with one hand. When it wasn't coming off fast enough he growled and stabbed the dagger into Charles' thigh, leaving it there and quickly removed the device.
Once off, Charles shut his eyes and turned from the scene in front of him. But even closed he could still see as each of the members of Dethklok were pulled forward, their bodies weak and deathly already. He could still hear their pained screams and the crying. And all Charles could do as one by one their throats were sliced open was watch.
Never in his life did he ever want to see their eyes dull like that. That was why he worked so hard to keep them safe and alive. But he failed them. He failed himself, the gears and fans, the band itself. Most importantly he failed Nathan.
Watching the life leave his green eyes hurt the most of all.
"Look at me Charles."
He refused to open his eyes, instead turning his head further from the voice.
"I said look at me!"
Charles snarled as his face was grabbed and forced forward. He opened his eyes to glare at the masked man who only laughed.
"It was so easy, too easy. I expected more from you," he said as he roughly pulled the dagger free. Charles' shoulders started to shake with anger as he watched the assassin lick his blood, put the dagger away and make his way over to the bands dead bodies.
"It was to easy for me to just sneak in with a few followers and take them from their rooms while you slept. I could have easily taken and killed you, but then you wouldn't have suffered as much." The assassin smirked as he kicked one of the corpses-Pickles- with one of his boots.
Charles watched as he then bent down and grabbed Toki's body by the hair and pulled him up. "He was so sure you would save them. Always going on how-" at this point the masked assassin grabbed Toki's jaw with his free hand and began moving his mouth up and down like a puppet, "-Charlies will comes! He always comes and saves us!" He mocked, laughing as he threw the body away.
"But you didn't come, did you? I set a trap and you fell right into it. Right Charlie?"
But Charles remained silent. He didn't need this monster reminding him he was to late or how he failed. When he learned of their disappearance he immediately sent out a search team before going to the gear in charge of watching the security feeds. There he learned of the gears allegiance to the man who had previously tried to kill him and almost killed him on the spot. He kept him alive, only so he could find out what he knew.
He stopped at nothing after that to try and find his boys, to get them before anything serious happened to them. A month had passed before they had finally got a hold of someone who had some answers. They told of an abandoned warehouse that they were being held at and Charles immediately got an team ready to retrieve them.
But the warehouse was a trap, an obvious one. Dethklok was no where near the warehouse, and within minutes Charles was the only one left standing among the gears he brought. If he was thinking clearer, if his mind wasn't so tired and running on little sleep he would have realized his mistake.
Standing in the carnage of bodies was the man who wanted him dead but before Charles could even raise his weapon a blow to the back of the head knocked him out.
By the time he came to, he was strapped to a chair, bleeding and in pain, and still more worried about the boys than about himself. He found them but was in no condition to rescue them and for that he prayed forgiveness.
A sharp pain to his face brought him back to reality. Two more blows followed, along with more commentary on what he did to the band during the month he had them.
"I want you to scream for me Charles." His breath smelt like blood and death, but Charles refused to open his mouth to speak. Not even to spout hate or threats. He kept his mouth shut, even when he felt the cold steel of a blade slice open his chest, or when he felt rough hands rub salt into his wounds causing his whole body to shake from the strain of keeping it all in. He didn't open his mouth once.
Charles was weak, he knew he had lost this battle. He had lost too much blood, with more being lost every minute. He knew he was going to die. Even if he somehow managed to get out, he wouldn't make it out before death claimed him.
"That's alright. I'm a patient man Charles. I've waited so long to have you like this, I can wait more to hear you scream again. You will scream for me. I'll make sure of it."
Red eyes glowing, the metal-masked assassin removed Charles from the chair he was bound to and quickly rebound his wrists behind his back. Charles gave weak attempts at trying to kick the larger man but when he did make contact it wasn't enough to do any major damage.
He was then hoisted up and dragged across the room where he was thrown on top of the pile of bodies. Charles almost let out a noise as he stared into empty green eyes. He always loved looking into those eyes, seeing them shine whenever he was excited or passionate over something. Seeing them now up close made Charles' heart want to stop.
But he was then turned over, sprawled over the bands cold bodies, watching in horror as the masked assassin loomed over him with his pants unbuttoned.
Charles willed his body to relax as he felt hands undo his own ruined pants and rip them off. He willed his mind to go blank as he felt his legs being spread. Most importantly he willed his voice to stay silent as he felt himself being taken.
It was easy to distance himself form the current situation once his bound hands grasped a larger, colder hand that had been underneath him. He closed his eyes, willing his own body to become as cold as the ones underneath him. Charles could feel himself dying, and he was glad. He could meet Dethklok in the afterworld and apologize for not saving them.
A hand around his throat brought him back to himself. The assassin was already clothed again, and his own body was numb to any pain. The hand around his throat then tightened as it dragged Charles into a sitting position.
The assassin then pulled out a gun that was hidden in his boot and aimed it right at Charles.
"Next time, you will scream." A loud bang filled the room as Charles watched the assassin pull the trigger.
Charles shot up in his bed, drenched in sweat. His chest was heaving uncontrollably as he reached out a shaking hand to grab his glasses from the nightstand. Looking at his clock he found that it was sometime after one in the morning.
The rational part in Charles was telling him that it was just a dream, but it felt too real. Panic started to bubble within him as he shot out of bed and ran into the hall in only his pajama pants, in to much of a hurry to grab his robe.
The closest bedroom was Murderface, so he ran into the room without knocking. The room was dark, eerie, and very empty. His heart started pounding in his chest, but he tried to reason with himself.
"He's probably in the kitchen. He gets late night snacks all the time." That had to be it.
Leaving the room, he made his way to the next one as fast as he could. When he got to the drummers door he quickly opened it to find another empty room. Charles once again tried to make up an excuse for why it was empty, trying to convince himself that they were all right and he only had a nightmare.
"He's passed out, behind the couch or in a hall. Like he usually is."
Skwisgaars room was next, and he knew he could count on him to be in his room. Probably with two or three different female companions. Throwing open the doors he came face to face with nothing. Again. Empty.
Charles didn't even try to reason with himself at that point and instead tore off for Toki's room. The smaller room was also empty, bed unmade and his bear forgotten on the floor. Charles couldn't breathe and by the time he reached Nathan's room his body was shaking from the exertion.
The large bed in the room was empty and looked like no one was in it in hours. The joining bathroom was dark and empty as well. He ran into the room regardless, throwing the blanket off the bed and searching the closet and bathroom just incase, tossing things to the ground. Charles could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he started to back out of the room, eyes fixated on the empty bed when he found nothing.
He was about halfway out before he bumped into something large and hard.
"What are you doing in my room?"
Whirling around Charles came face to face with Nathan, green eyes looking at the carnage that Charles had done.
"Where were you?" Charles asked as his body slowly started to relax. Nathan was alright. He wasn't taken.
"Uhh, me and the guys went out to the bar. I told you that. Earlier." Nathan replied, somewhat confused. Charles usually remembered stuff like that.
"Right, I remember you, ah telling me that." Charles recalled Nathan and the others going into his office earlier to ask if he wanted to join them, but he declined because he had to much work to do. Looking behind him at the mess he made, Charles suddenly felt really stupid. "I'll have someone clean the mess in the morning. Good night."
As Charles stepped around Nathan, he was stopped when his arm was grabbed and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing's wrong," he lied, refusing to look at Nathan.
"A guy doesn't just wreck another guys room if nothings wrong." Nathan turned Charles so they were standing in front of each other, but Charles still wasn't looking at him. "Hey. Look at me Charles."
Charles' eyes widened as his head shot up and he stared at Nathan. Images from his dream filled his mind again. He swore he could even feel the pain.
Nathan saw this and frowned. "Nothing's wrong my ass," he mumbled as he led Charles inside his room and sat him down on the bed before closing the door and joining him. "You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to."
"It was just a dream, but it felt so real." Charles said, after a few moments of silence. Nathan remained silent as Charles recounted his dream, leaving out certain parts, telling him only the basic gist of it. When he was done Charles was rubbing his wrists as if he could still feel the rope that had bound them.
Nathan took each of his hand in his own, holding them. Charles looked up at Nathan, feeling weaker then he ever felt before, and leaned forward until his head was resting on Nathan's shoulder.
Hesitating for only a moment, Nathan let go of Charles and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Nathan wasn't really good with words, that was what Charles was for. Sitting here with him, shaking against him and mumbling apologies for something that didn't even happen, Nathan was at a total loss.
So, he did the only thing he could think of. He held onto Charles and waited it out.
Charles moved away from Nathan and looked into his eyes. Eyes that were not dull or lifeless. For the first time since waking up he finally felt okay. He closed his eyes, feeling all the emotion that he was keeping bottled up inside of him finally release. Charles felt a hand cup his face and thumb away a tear that had escaped.
He was safe, his boys were safe, everything was going to be alright.
"Go to sleep Charles. You don't have to worry anymore." Nathan said, standing up and holding out a hand for Charles.
Taking the hand, he stood as well and gave the front man a small smile. "I should be the one tell you there is nothing to worry about."
"Yeah well, I'm telling you now. Your not a robot. Even if we say you are. " Charles nodded, extremely tired now that he was no longer in a state of worry or panic. He turned for the door before Nathan grabbed his hand. Looking back Charles raised an eyebrow as he watched Nathan start to hide behind his hair.
"You could, you know, stay here. Just incase you have that dream again. I could, umm. I could wake you up or something if you start freaking out."
"O-okay," Charles stuttered.
After removing his clothing down to his boxers, Nathan grabbed the discarded blanket from the ground and both he and Charles settled onto the bed. The two of them closed their eyes, Charles once again wrapped in Nathan's arms, listening to his heartbeat.
If things became awkward come morning or if it grew to something more, Charles could care less. Because at the moment he could hear his heart and feel his warmth and that alone kept anymore nightmares away.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Mordhaus a man with a metal mask surveyed the area. Planning his entrance, preparing his revenge.
The End