started: 1/3/2019

Shadows Over Collinsport 5:

The Howl Held in Your Heart

By Lucidscreamer

Chapter 1

When Ryou awoke, his head was pounding, every muscle in his body felt abused, and his mouth tasted like he'd been sucking on old pennies. He groaned as he tried to roll onto his front so that he could push himself up off whatever uncomfortable surface he was lying on. His first thought was that this was the worst hangover of his life, but then he recalled that the only thing he'd been drinking was tea, and he froze in mid-roll. What the hell had happened to him last night?

He tried to think back... and was very unhappy to discover his mind was mostly blank after a certain point. Even more disturbing, that point was the moment he had drunk from the cup of tea his "cousin" Quentin Collins had offered him.

"Ryou?"

Speak of the devil. Ryou forced his head up, ignoring the pain that shot through him at the unjudicious movement, and squinted through the - were those bars? - separating him from Quentin. "It wasn't enough to drug me? You had to stick me in a cage, too?"

It came out more weary than angry, though beneath the crushing exhaustion, Ryou was furious. To think he'd trusted the bastard.

"I can explain-"

Ryou laughed. It was rusty sounding and mirthless, and reminded him far too much of the spirit that used to ride around in his head, so he stopped just as abruptly as he'd started. At least it had shut Quentin up.

"This isn't my first kidnapping."

Slowly, every muscle aching, every joint creaking, Ryou struggled until he was sitting up. More awake now, he realized that he was in an actual cell, with damp stone at his back and iron bars forming the other three walls. He was hunched against the single stone wall, the equally cold and hard floor unforgiving beneath his abused body. He felt as if a giant had used him for a punching bag, though there didn't appear to be any bruises on any of his exposed skin that he could see. His borrowed clothing was the worse for wear, jagged rips like something left by sharp talons or claws having reduced his shirt to little more than rags.

The absolute worst thing, and the most terrifying, was the clank of heavy chains when he moved. Ice water suddenly replaced the blood in his veins. Muscles clenching in an attempt to hide their trembling, he looked down to see thick iron manacles clamped around his wrists. The sturdy chains were attached to an equally sturdy ring set into the stone behind him.

Swallowing hard and trying to conceal his fear, Ryou stared at Quentin. There was only one thing this could be about. "I don't have it anymore, you know. And it wouldn't work for you, anyway."

Quentin's brow furrowed in what Ryou could almost believe was genuine confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"The Ring." Ryou tilted his head, his gaze searching the other man's expression. There didn't seem to be any recognition there. Now he was the one feeling confused. "This... Isn't this about the Millennium Ring?"

"Millennium Ring?" Quentin seemed to be tasting the words, testing them for meaning.

Ryou wasn't sure he could trust his own impressions right now. After all, he'd thought the man's talk of family meant something. Frankly, his head hurt too much to work it out right now. "I meant what I said before. I don't have the Ring. Even if I did, the Millennium Items are nothing to mess around with."

At the mention of the words "Millennium Items," Quentin's gaze sharpened. "I've heard that term before..." He looked away for a moment, appearing to be lost in memory, then stiffened. "In Egypt. That's where I heard it." He seemed to be talking more to himself than Ryou. "Laura said... But that was..."

Quentin turned his gaze back on Ryou, who was startled to see fear in the other man's eyes. "Ryou, what did you mean when you said you didn't have a Millennium Item anymore?"

That didn't even deserve an answer, so Ryou just looked at him and waited. Quentin's reaction confused him even further; the man looked as if Ryou had punched him in the gut. Quentin covered his eyes with his hand, then ran it through his already mussed hair. Now that Ryou was really looking at him, Quentin seemed to have passed a rather rough night himself. There were purple shadows under his eyes and his hair looked as if he'd run his hands through it more than once. There was an almost palpable aura of fatigue around him, as well.

"So, you admit that you're after the Ring?"

"What? No!" Quentin had a very convincing 'appalled' face. Ryou could almost believe it. "Look, I know that your current accomodations aren't exactly an argument in my favor-"

Ryou snorted.

"Okay, yes. I know, all right?" Quentin began to pace as he spoke. "I've been on the other side of this, I know how bad it all looks. But I swear to you that there's a good reason for everything."

Very pointedly, Ryou held up his chained wrists.

"...There's a good reason for those, too." Quentin's voice was tired. "Unfortunately, the story behind said reason is long and fairly unbelievable, so I didn't have time to explain it to you last night."

"And today?" Ryou didn't hold out much hope of hearing anything that would make this situation any better, but at least listening to the obligatory Villain Monologue meant delaying whatever was coming next.

Nodding, Quentin stopped in front of the door to the cell. He leaned his forehead against the bars, hands gripping them so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless. "Today, you get to hear the whole sordid thing."

"I don't suppose you'd let me out of here first?"

Quentin hesitated. After a moment, he frowned and, when he spoke, he sounded genuinely remorseful. "I wish I could, kid, but I think I have a better chance of getting you to hear my story if you stay in there until it's over. However-" And here he surprised Ryou by pulling a large key from his pocket. "There's no need for you to remain in those chains. I swear to you, they were only to prevent you from hurting yourself."

So saying, Quentin tossed the key through the bars of the cell so that the key landed almost in Ryou's lap. Startled, Ryou stared at it for a moment, before snatching it up and clumsily unlocking the chains from his wrists. They fell away with a clank.

In the face of the unexpected gesture, Ryou decided that he could afford to hear whatever it was that Quentin felt he had to say. "Go on, then. I'm listening."