Omnipotent: A Menry Story
In all things it is better to hope than to despair - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Perhaps the strongest evidence that women have as broad and deep a capacity for physical aggression as men is anecdotal. And as with men, this capacity has expressed itself in acts from the brave to the brutal, the selfless to the senseless. – Katherine Dunn
Circle encircles the earth
Chance and choice break his heart
His innocent arm moves to save me and I am spared
His beautiful arm
Is bloody and cut off
His heart ripped out to show me he loved me
But I would not believe him
He did all that he could
I still would not believe him
I left his arms empty and tied
Outstretched for me until he died
Left his arms empty and tied
Outstretched for me until he died
No man shows greater love
Than when a man
Lays down his life
For his beloved
Here I'm alive
And I don't have the right
He gave me the right
Costing him his life
New mercies in the morning
I believe
What if I believe you now
Could it ever change this heart
Forgive me, believe me
Please come back tonight
Come back to my life – The lyrics to Circle by Flyleaf
P A R T S I X
Maggie was vaguely aware of the sharp prick of a needle piercing the skin of her upper arm that night and everything after that was a dull blur of wheeling colors and then impenetrable darkness.
There were mumbling voices…she was being lifted…she felt warm arms encircle her…Henry was whispering words in her ear…she drifted into unconsciousness…
There was sunlight pouring in…she wanted to open her eyes but something blocked her…more pain in her upper arm…they were drugging her…more blackness…
Rumbles of a truck on a freeway…Henry's lips pressing against her cheek gently…his fingers caressing her hair, arms and torso…
The next thing she knew her eyelids were fluttering open and connecting with the whirling interior of a car. The windows were tinted dark enough so no curious pedestrians or bicyclists could peek in and discover this atrocity. Bullet holes dotted the plain grey ceiling and at various points during the drive stray bits of leaves or pine needles would snake in through the slight openings.
Her sleepy chocolate orbs reviewed the state of her body; she felt like she'd been hit by a truck and bruises dotted the revealed patches of skin that weren't covered by Henry's jacket. Her head ached so bad that she was afraid it would burst. If she wasn't so scared she would have demanded for some aspirin.
The driver of the vehicle was the boss behind the operations and luckily neither he nor the woman helping him in the front had glanced back yet.
Warm fingers tightened slightly around Maggie's waist and the brunette's shadowed gaze shot upward, softening as it connected with the face of her best friend. Henry was fast sleep, his mouth slightly agape and his eyelids fluttering as he floated peacefully in dreamland.
Maggie wondered if her wrists were still tied together but a quick flick upward of her left arm proved that theory false. Her fingers skimmed over Henry's slightly scarred neck, brushing up past his flushed cheekbones and back down again, repeating the process several more times.
She attempting sitting up but quickly discovered she was nowhere near healed enough to accomplish the task; pressing her lips to the crook of Henry's neck Maggie allowed herself to relax slightly. Just the sound of the blonde male breathing calmed the brunette's anxious spirit. If Henry was here with her then there was no reason to be afraid, she concluded determinedly.
And yet it was sort of hard to avoid the obvious fact that the two of them were kidnapped and being smuggled to who knows where. The thought of the boss' cruel remark earlier, one that clearly stated he couldn't wait to rid of their rotting corpses, sent Maggie into a cold sweat. She and Henry had to find a way to get out of this before they were murdered; the main question was how long they actually had before their kidnappers tired of their breathing presence.
Henry grunted and wiggled underneath her and curious tingles spread throughout Maggie's body; as much as she tried to ignore the sexual tension it was rather impossible now. Heck, if they were to be murdered soon anyways she may as well man up and tell Henry how she felt.
"You're awake," Henry slurred, his famous smile spreading across his face for the first time in days.
"I should be the one saying that," Maggie muttered weakly, weaving her arms tighter around the boy's waist. She winced as Henry pulled her into a hug and pain crackled down her whole body.
"Ow," she hissed under her breath, attempting to hide her discomfort from her best friend.
"Did I hurt you?" Henry asked, guilt blooming in his hazel orbs, along with something else she couldn't place. Was it just her, or did the car's heater turn up 30 degrees?
"It's okay, I'm fine," the brunette attempted placating the male teen holding her in his lap. Her face was flushing more by the minute and Henry's lips looked extremely appetizing.
"This is all my fault," he replied harshly, mentally beating himself up. Maggie was obviously suffering all because he decided to go out and be stupid.
"No, don't -" Maggie began.
"Well, looks like the two lovebirds are awake," the boss began in a chilling tone. "Demi, you know what to do," he instructed the black-haired beauty beside him in the front.
Maggie watched as the minion readied a needle with the drug that would knock her out, a combination of hatred and helplessness battling in her red-hazed vision, "I'd rather remain awake, thank you very much!"
"Don't fight, beautiful, or I'll make sure your first time is extremely painful," the driver hinted, smirking in the mirror so that both teens could see his silver gaze glinting.
"You'll pay for this," Henry snarled under his breath, but like his female counterpart he was unable to act at the present moment. He could only watch as the young minion pointed the needle directly at one of Maggie's veins.
Maggie felt a sharp pain in her foot as Demi pressed the needle through her skin, allowing several droplets of blood to squeeze out of the new wound. After emptying the contents of the vial into the brunette's bloodstream the minion glanced at her manager, "Anything else, sir?"
"Yes, I do believe our blonde friend here needs a little encouragement," the driver remarked, waggling his bushy eyebrows meaningfully. "Put a small bubble in the girl's vein."
Henry let out a shocked yelp, "That'll kill her! Please, no!"
"No, it won't kill her, but it will sure hurt for the next several hours," the boss explained, flashing the two young adults a thin lipped smile. "Now, Henry, if you don't cooperate, I'll have Demi inject a bubble large enough to kill your little lovebird in less than ten minutes."
"I'll do anything, just don't kill Maggie," Henry pleaded, his jaw trembling as a burning feeling traveled up to his normally dry orbs, saturating them.
"Good boy," the driver responded, nodding at Demi to continue with the bubble.
Maggie let out a choked whimper in her nearly unconscious state as the minion pushed the needle back into the vein, creating another wound. After playing with the needle a bit to stretch the cut inside and cause the brunette as much agony as possible Demi sucked a little air into the tube and released a small bubble into the vein.
A few moments later Maggie's world faded to black, a painful yet death defying darkness.
Hours passed and yet their kidnappers didn't cease driving; Henry could only recognize the rare plants blooming on either side of the single-lane road because his family had driven these Utah trails on their quest for the extremely scarce Black-legged Kittiwake.
Maggie writhed in his arms, little whimpers emulating from her pale lips every few moments. Blood had dried around the tiny prick on her foot and the metallic scent clogged the air, making Henry plug his nose reluctantly.
The blonde felt terribly guilty over the fact that he hadn't done more to protect the brunette in his arms; just the sight of her now, crying out in agony, sent shivers down his spine. For the second time that day his hazel orbs glistened with unshed tears.
Worry spiked in the normally level-headed young man's chest as Maggie moaned once more, twisting slightly so that her trembling lips were pressed against his wrist. It had been several hours since Demi had injected the bubble into his best friend's vein and Henry couldn't even imagine how much pain the brunette must be in.
Through his inner torments Henry could make out the two murderers up front musing in sharp whispers. Craning his ear slightly in the duo's direction the blonde male set himself to eavesdropping; you never knew what people would disclose these days.
"You've got to be kidding me," the driver, whose name Henry had recently discovered was Jehav, muttered in disgust.
"What? Am I supposed to apologize for having an unfortunately tiny bladder?" Demi demanded, crossing her arms defiantly and tossing her raven-black locks back for dramatic effect.
"You're supposed to hold it!" Jehav exclaimed, exasperated with the petite woman. "What does it take to find a decent minion now-a-days?"
"Well so-rry for not being Miss Perfect!" the young woman shouted. "Just get off here."
She pointed in the direction of a gas station that Henry hadn't noticed. There was a shack-like store behind it, the horrible orange paint peeling in certain places. The windows were barred and there was an unrealistic drawing of a Mexican man holding a bottle of 'Revero's Beer' on the right wall facing the road.
"You have five minutes," the driver threatened, zipping up his fancy Italian leather coat as he stepped out.
"And where are you going?" Demi snapped, stomping in the direction of the store, shadowed closely by her boss.
"I'm hungry," Jehav complained, rubbing his slightly protruding belly. "I haven't eaten since yesterday, thanks to these two brats!"
"Well, no worries. They'll be dead by tomorrow," the black-haired fiend comforted, patting her manager's shoulder. Bickering back and forth continuously, the pair disappeared into the store, the ringing of a bell signifying their arrival.
"What was that about?" Maggie whispered and Henry started, having not realized she'd awoken. Pulling the brunette into a secure hug the blonde rocked her back and forth, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"It's nothing," Henry reassured the girl, his senses snapping into hard-drive instantly as he realized something. They were alone in the car for a few minutes, just enough time to escape. "But right now, we need to leave."
"Too late," Maggie gulped, pointing a shaky finger towards the store where Demi was making her way back to the car. "Henry, run….now!"
"I'm not going to leave you here," he protested, his fingers curling around the handle of the door.
"It doesn't help if both of us are captive, now does it?" the young woman pressed, her hazy brown orbs studying him. "Go," she whispered a second later, pushing on his chest gently, "and come back for me later."
Henry didn't move for a second, understanding the implications of the sacrifice his best friend was portraying, "I'll come back to save you," he promised, the gears in his brain twirling.
Demi had stopped by the gas pump, her nimble pointer finger jabbing in a combination of numbers; her mouth seemed to be set in a permanent scowl. Jehav hadn't reappeared from the interior of the store yet, thank God.
Before he could think about it, Henry had lowered his head, pressing his soft lips against Maggie's. It was only a brief kiss but through it both of the young adults discovered the strength necessary to go through with this possibly devastating plan.
As their mouths parted Maggie felt the tears sting her chocolate orbs, a single droplet rolling down her cheek; she didn't know if she'd ever see Henry again, but she also comprehended that this was the only way to save at least one of them. "Run," she mumbled, pushing him towards the tinted window.
Glancing back at his best friend one more time Henry inhaled sharply before cracking open the door. His converse hit the concrete under the car and Demi's head swiveled in his direction; as the minion spotted that one prisoner was escaping a shocked yell emitted from her chest, "JEHAV!"
Henry was already sprinting away, his heart pounding in his chest. A moment later the driver spilled out of the store, clutching a gleaming knife in his right hand; the older, slightly chubbier man took off after the run-away, screaming profanities, but bit by bit Henry gained distance from the murderer. The aggravated cries soon died away, leaving the shuddering teenage boy by himself in the growing twilight.
The blonde male slumped against a garbage disposal, pants making his chest thump up and down unevenly. His lips still felt soft and tingly from the kiss with Maggie and yet at the same time those delightful feelings brought pain; Henry had escaped but his best friend was still in mortal danger.
"I'm coming, Mags, just hold on," he muttered, a sharp pain suddenly attacking his side. His hand stretched down to clutch his waist, red blooming over his calloused fingers and slowly Henry realized that there was blood dripping from a considerably deep wound on his abdomen.
Jehav's blood-encrusted knife lay flat on the ground, the stained blade glimmering ominously in the fading light. The driver must have thrown it, Henry realized, wincing as more pain shot through his body. The cut wasn't life-threatening, luckily, but it did sting horribly.
Several minutes later Henry determined that the coast was safe enough to traverse back to the store; hopefully he could discover a form of transportation to follow the desecrator's van. The blood from the cut on his side had stopped flowing but his shirt was now permanently coated in the crimson substance and the wound burned. But at least he could still walk, the blonde thought gratefully.
To his relief there was a beat down Ford sitting by one of the gas pumps, the lights still beaming full force. A thick canvas covered the back of the mud splattered vehicle, the perfect position to stow away in, Henry figured out, his hazel orbs narrowing in concentration as he crept towards the truck.
An old man with a twirling grey mustache that Henry assumed was the driver was conversing in a Southern twang with a very familiar face. The blonde felt anger bubble over his wall of self-control, building up in the urge to hit the person who'd ruined all their lives.
"Is there anything you have to say before I slit your throat?" Henry spat, pacing in the direction of Jeremy Torante.
Jeremy's silver gaze connected superiorly with the teenager, "What on earth are you talking about?" His eyes widened. "Why, Mr. Henry Griffin, isn't it?"
"Don't pretend like this is some coincidence; I know everything!" Henry roared, sliding out Jehav's razor sharp knife and pointing it right at the shrewd businessman.
"Again, I intercept…I'm afraid I haven't a clue as to what you're rambling about," the stiff man insisted with a brisk nod.
"You killed Jasper and had Maggie and I kidnapped," Henry hissed, doubt flickering in his hazel orbs as he saw pure shock wipe any other emotion from Jeremy's face.
"Henry, I assure you –" Mr. Torante began, only to be cut off.
"Hey guys, what's…" the blonde haired arrival's perky tone died off as she spotted the knife being pointed right at her boss' jugular vein. "H-henry, what are you doing?"
"Miss Voltez?" The blonde haired adolescence wondered, surprise flaring across his gaze. Automatically he lowered the knife and Jeremy stepped away, gasps squeezing from his diaphragm.
"Call me Sarah, please," the young woman insisted, patting her wavy ringlets as confusion permeating the distress in her dancing green orbs. "What's going on here?" She asked Henry, a hint of sublime desperation nudging into her warm tone.
"Jasper's death wasn't an accident and when Maggie and I went to investigate we were kidnapped. I escaped but the murderers still have Maggie," Henry explained breathlessly, shoving the now closed knife into his front pocket.
"Oh God," Sarah's hand slapped over her mouth as she digested the startling information.
"What did they look like, your kidnappers?" Jeremy asked hurriedly, fiddling with the contents of his briefcase; finally he managed to tug out a notepad and a Sea-world pen, whales drawn diving playfully on the oceanic scene on the writing utensil.
"The woman had jet black hair, her iris' were a dull brown, she stood at about 5'6," Henry described the minion vividly, shivering as he recalled his imprisonment in the tinted van. "The man called her Demi."
"Demi Locareas, five round murderer," Sarah chimed in, her deep pools alit with fright. "She's known to move around this area, changing gangs every few weeks…she's on the top ten most dangerous list, sir."
Jeremy Torante scribbled something down on the notepad, the edge of the pen brushing abstract patterns on the pure surface. When he didn't stop tracing right away Henry's bushy eyebrows rose in sync, his gears working furiously to come up with an explanation for the phenomenon.
"Did she look something like this?" The businessman turned the notepad around, revealing a startlingly accurate drawing of the cruel minion.
Her head was heart shaped, her bony jaw coming to a crooked halt and nearly forming a double chin. Black, stick-straight hair flowed to just past shoulder length, although the dark locks looked far too neat in the impersonation. Her nose slightly resembled a button, although it was quite narrow until branching out into a circular knob at the end; several freckles marred her delicate cheekbones and the tips of her nostrils.
But the most fantastic description of the minion's emotion was in her eyes. The skin around them was stretched, as though she hadn't been born with an adequate amount of skin cells, but this physical problem didn't seem to inhibit the width of her eyes. They were shockingly huge, like a doe's, but unlike the frisky creatures Demi's irises were coal black and so, so cold. There was almost a tinge of desperation, a need to escape reality in those black holes of desecration, however, one that set Henry to pondering if the female really wanted to be in the situation she'd landed herself a part of.
"Well?" Jeremy wondered impatiently, the toe of his expensive crocodile leather boot tapping the earth and sending puffs of dirt air-bound.
"That's her," Henry remarked assuredly, shifting his footing as a gust of cool wind swept through, ruffling the parties' hair quite considerably.
"And you said there was a man as well?" Sarah wondered, tilting her head in his direction.
"Yes, someone named Jehav," the blonde haired teen insinuated, his green-brown speckled orbs swimming with intensity. He was in locked focus mode. "He looked middle-eastern, but the tinge of his skin wasn't that dark. It was somewhere in the spectrum between African and Chinese."
Jeremy's hand snaked into his briefcase once more, pulling out a worn photograph; the date on the corner of the colored print read 1987, "This is the man, Jehav Isodolni."
"Why does his surname sound Italian?" Henry questioned.
"The man's mother, Alessandra from the house of Esposito, was born a full Italian woman; she took a journey to visit Afghanistan to divulge its complex culture and fell in love. It was only a summer romance, apparently, and the poor woman was heartbroken when she returned home. And then, a few months later Alessandra discovered that she was expecting." Jeremy paused and motioned at his assistant to finish the story.
Apparently Sarah was as well rehearsed in the family's story because she continued without a hitch, "So Alessandra sent a letter to her unborn child's father, Fabio, begging him to come home, but he wouldn't. And so, because she loved him so much she moved to his city in Afghanistan and they got married." She stopped as the tears moistened her shining orbs.
Jeremy seemed to understand that Miss Voltez couldn't continue so he illustrated on in his powerful baritone, "When Alessandra was eight months along she realized a horrible truth. Fabio had changed in the few months; he'd fallen into the folly of gambling and had wasted away all his money on drugs. His young wife didn't have any money to return home, however, so she stayed with her love.
"And so, Jehav Isodolni was brought into the world a month later. The new parents were fine for awhile; Fabio quit gambling and drinking and the couple was able to construct a modest hut for their little family. But, unfortunately, it didn't last.
"When Jehav was six he noticed that his father was starting to act strange. Alessandra brushed off her son's observations, pushing herself into a little hole so that she could pretend nothing was wrong. But she knew, oh she knew what her husband was becoming once again.
"When Jehav was seven Fabio started to hit his mother; I'm not just talking about a simple slap across the face. I mean full blown punches to every inch of the woman's body. The boy would see her undress sometimes and follow the trails of bruises and cuts dotting her skin, but still his mother would brush it off, insisting that Fabio was just going through a hard time.
"But just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. Fabio had been slowly creeping back into gambling and drinking and one night he'd been drinking three times more than he normally did. Jehav had been running errands and as he walked back home he heard screams echoing from his house. Fabio would have killed his wife if his son hadn't intervened. As it was, she suffered from multiple broken ribs, a broken arm and a broken leg. Jehav fought his father off and managed to drive Fabio unconscious by hitting him with a mallet atop the brow.
"From the time Jehav was seven until fourteen his father both verbally and physically abused him, but the boy just took it; he didn't want his mother to be killed. But finally, Jehav couldn't take it anymore. One night when Fabio was in a particularly harsh rage his own son stabbed him in the heart, killing him quickly. Alessandra nearly killed herself when she saw her husband's lifeless body lying in a pool of his own blood; she loved Fabio even when he abused her and her son."
Henry was shell-shocked by this point but he managed to mumble, "So what happened?" He forced back the instinctive gag reflex; how a man could bear to abuse his wife and child was…sickening.
"Jehav and his mother moved to America, to a city not far from here, actually. Alessandra's mind had been horribly damaged from the many beatings and she relied on her son to take care of her in her reduced state. Finally, ten years after they escaped Fabio she died, probably from shock more than anything else, leaving her only son to take care of himself."
"Is this why Jehav has been massacring innocent people?" Henry wondered, his gut wrenching at the thought. The man was turning into his father more than he realized.
"I'm afraid so," Jeremy confirmed. Sarah was in tears.
"One thing that sheds light on the reason for Jehav's admission to the Hilabiti was because as a child he always loved Hitler's dominance over the human race. And add to that that his father was a Jew, well…you can see where this is going." Mr. Torante concluded grimly, interlacing his fingers.
"That sick bastard has Maggie," Henry swallowed hard, biting his tongue to refrain from screaming.
"Then we need to find her as soon as possible; who knows what that messed up man has in store for her," the businessman mused with a grimace.
Maggie leaned against the cot in the corner of the grimy cell, her head collapsed onto her limp fingers like a rag doll about to be shipped off to the Goodwill. The smell in her confined space was horrible, like someone had dumped a dead animal in there to rot, which wouldn't surprise her. Then again, the sewage system emptied out into the drainage from here, so that was most likely the cause of the stench.
Brushing away some of the soot and tear-tracks from her porcelain cheeks the brunette straightened slightly, gazing around at the unkempt room. She nearly screeched as a rat scampered across the tile, his pink nose sniffing out any source of rotting food to store away.
"Well, well well," the dark voice crooned and Jehav jimmied his key in the lock, sliding the barred door open just wide enough for his curvy shape to fit through. As soon as he was in he allowed the door to swing shut, locking with an ominous clang.
Maggie shivered as the creepy man backed her into the back wall, his fingers reaching for places they shouldn't. Tears burned her vision as Jehav's dirty lips brushed against the skin of her neck, trailing sloppy kisses to the V-neck of her t-shirt, "Please don't."
Jehav slapped her, the sound resonating throughout the dingy sewer hideout, "What did I tell you about talking defiant to me?"
"I'm sorry," Maggie whispered, whimpering as the man lifted up the hem of her shirt, his black fingers brushing the waistband of her jeans. "Please don't make me do this!"
Jehav pushed the young woman into the opposing wall, laughing evilly to himself as her back slapped against the tile, "Fine, not today, but tonight, I'm going to steal your virginity and there's nothing you can do about it! Not so smart now that your boyfriend's gone, are you?" He taunted, his slimy lips pressing against her throat once more before he exited her cell and left.
Tears began to streak down Maggie's pale face as she slumped down to the floor once more, "Henry, where are you?"
SPARKNOTES:
Hey guys, please ignore the little bits of English and German down here; I forgot to put them on the next chapter becuause they make absolutely no sense here, lol :D I hope you enjoyed and I'll try to get the next part up soon!