Ch. 7

Isaac slept during the day, as his master did, but unlike his master, he awoke before the sun's dangerous rays faded. He rarely enjoyed a full day's sleep, since his invulnerability to sunlight enabled him to take care of things for Dracula during the day. Today was no exception. After a few hours' nap, he awoke his prisoners, who glared up at him with caution, but otherwise looked exhausted.

When Hector awoke, just an hour before Isaac came for him, he looked over to Trevor, who was already awake and glaring at him with fierce hostility. This came like a blow to him, for how could he survive without an ally? He struggled to sit up and snapped, "What is it?"

Leaning against the wall, his legs straight ahead of him, Trevor just glared for a few minutes longer. His body looked totally drained, but there was a dark energy keeping him alert, powering the look in his eyes, which looked bloodshot and tired by consequence. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was scratchy and flat. "You still belong to him."

Hector narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I knew not to trust you from the very beginning," Trevor hissed, looking hard into Hector's eyes, causing Hector to burn inside with imagined guilt. The way Trevor shook his head and glared made him feel sick to his stomach, and just as angry at Trevor right back.

With a hard edge to his voice, Hector replied, "Isaac told you something, didn't he? You should know not to listen to him."

"Don't you take me for a fool, Hector!" Trevor snapped, those eyes lighting up, while the rest of his body sagged from the effort. "Of course he's a vile thing, but why would he suggest that you and your beloved lord are still close? That must be based on something! What were you doing all that time?"

Hector bit his lip and looked down, feeling a mix of anger and relief. Of course it would be hard to convince Trevor that he was not in league with Dracula anymore, but at least that was the truth. "Nothing that was my own choice, Trevor. I was brought before Dracula, that is true." He looked up at him and was gratified to see a bit of that hardness fade from Trevor's face, still with a stubborn frown, though. Or perhaps Trevor was just falling asleep. "I was forced to..." he shook his head. "He thinks that he can force me to work for him again, but I assure you that will never happen. He will have to kill me first."

Trevor looked away, the chains on his collar making a disheartening clinking. "I don't think that will be enough, Hector," he said softly.

Hector would have said something, but was interrupted by that terrible sound of the locks being unlocked. He drew his knees in, unconsciously bracing himself for Isaac, who appeared in a bit of a better mood this time. There was no warmth to his grin, and especially not in his hands and he undid Hector's shackles and tugged him along. Hector threw a desperate look to Trevor as he was led out, and Trevor just hung his head, looking just as pitiful as Hector felt.

Hector had been plagued by dreams about Isaac during his brief rest, and he looked at Isaac now with confusing emotions. When they had served Dracula together, Hector had seen his companion as many things, but a fellow man was one of them. But now, after his imprisonment to him, Isaac seemed inhuman, larger than life. He wondered idly if Isaac would bleed if pricked.

There was so much hatred in his heart for this man now leading him into a closed off courtyard, guarded by slogras in the shadows, but those feelings were unfocused and confused. He was still getting used to not being in that first dungeon anymore, and would not have been at all surprised if Isaac led him to a small room to resume the torture. Not knowing what would happen next was torture enough.

But here he was totally unbound. His wrist shackles were tossed into the grass, and Hector was left facing Isaac, unfettered, and unsure what to do. Isaac even turned his back on him to take a pair of weapons from a slogra, who glowered at Hector the whole time. He then tossed a sword to Hector, who managed to catch it by reflex alone, as he was not following what was happening. The sight of Isaac armed with his spear was a very disturbing one. If they were about to battle, Hector was sure that he had lost already.

"What is this?" he said, clutching the sword so hard it hurt his hands. It did feel pretty good to hold a sword in his hands again, even if he didn't believe he had the strength to weld this.

"You," Isaac declared, sweeping a gloved hand over the intricate patterns etched into the spear head. "Are in desperate need of some training. Master wishes you to be battle ready, and soon."

"Then you're wasting your time," Hector said, dropping the sword. "I will never fight for him again."

Isaac smirked and gave an airy, indulgent chuckle. "Then you'll fight for yourself. You see, we're not leaving here until I am satisfied you've made progress, or you've dropped dead. Now," he straightened, pounding the base of his spear into the ground. "Do you really want to leave your darling Belmont friend all alone?"

Hector's chest heaved as he stared at Isaac, lips tightly pursed. He began to feel resentment for Trevor now; he did not ask the Belmont to try to rescue him. A part of him, the selfish, old part that had once been at home at Dracula's court, told him to forget about Trevor and take this chance to die and escape the torment at last. Ever since Rosalee's murder, Hector felt that he had been keeping himself awake, unable to surrender himself to a desperately needed slumber. Just closing his eyes and dreaming wasn't enough; he wanted to succumb to the darkness and never again wake up. Even a slow death at Isaac's hands sounded preferable to that selfish part of him.

But he was no longer that man. If he were, he never would have left Dracula's side. This was just one of many instances in his life where he had to prove to himself that his character was not defined by Dracula and the evil he represented. And if that meant denying himself a chance at peace in order to protect Trevor, then so be it.

So he picked up the sword and bent in a ready position. Isaac laughed with approval and immediately attacked, swinging his spear just over Hector's head. Hector dodged, nearly tripping over himself, and swung at Isaac. The sword was a dead weight in his hands, though, and it took great effort to even swing it. As the fight went on, Hector began to feel more confident as he relearned his skills, but his body was also weakening fast. What frustrated him more, though, was the fact that Isaac wasn't fighting to his full potential. Once again, he was just playing with him.

"Hold!" Isaac commanded, taking a step back. Hector was tempted to charge at him anyway, but spotted one of the slogra sentries eying him. Obviously no matter how well Hector fought, this battle would always be under Isaac's control. Just imagining taking the chance to kill Isaac and all the slogras right now, alone, made him so dizzy he had to stop and hold his head. Isaac walked up to him and took his sword without the slightest hesitation. His lack of fear of Hector was disheartening.

Isaac went back to a shadowed part and came back with a vial. When Hector reached out to take it, Isaac drew it back and waved his finger in mock disapproval, then ordered him to open his mouth. Hector seethed, but obeyed, knowing that any hesitation was not only a waste of time, but would inspire an act of violence from Isaac.

The fluid burned all the way down, causing him to choke. But soon after swallowing the last bit, Hector felt his breath steal away from him, and his muscles clench. After a few seconds of what felt like a heart attack, Hector calmed down just enough to glare at Isaac.

His rival laughed, "That oughta perk you up a bit." He held the sword to Hector.

Indeed, he was beginning to feel more energetic, so he snatched his sword, drew it over his head, and charged at Isaac, who was already ready for him. Hector did not believe he had a chance, but he still fought as if he did. That potion wasn't a miracle cure; he still felt fatigue deep in his bones, and he felt every wound and scratch Isaac's spear gave him in passing, but his body was able to last longer. More able to give Isaac the show he wanted, apparently.

Several times he tried to stab Isaac, but was blocked, and the one time he managed to shove Isaac to the ground, the slogras watching from the side lines gave him warning looks. But no matter how hard he fought, he was nowhere near Isaac's level, mostly because he felt this was a waste of time from the start.

And thinking about how Trevor would have made the most of this situation didn't help, either.

Isaac stopped everything once again after they had been at it for what felt like hours. Hector was awash with sweat and could hardly stand up straight, while Isaac was merely breathing a little harder. With the slogras' help, he collected the weapons and led him to another part of the courtyard, where some food had been laid out. Amazingly, Isaac broke off a piece of bread and gave it to Hector, before eating some himself. And he did it so casually, Hector had to remind himself of what the situation was.

Still, the apparent friendliness, or at least the pause in the abuse got to Hector, and he stared at his bread.

"You better eat that," Isaac growled. "And anything else I give you." He took it and was about to force it in Hector's mouth, but Hector's vacant stare made him stop and inspect him.

Hector had tears rolling down his face by the time he faced Isaac, finally able to make some sense of his troubled thoughts. "It doesn't have to be this way," he said in a strained whisper.

Isaac frowned. "That's all I ever get out of you, complaints."

"I have hated you for so long, Isaac!" Hector said, but lowered his voice. He could never be sure if slogras liked to listen in on human conversations, or if they could even understand anything more than simple commands, but he wasn't taking any chances. The beasts did not seem to be listening. "You can't know the hate I have for you, how badly I've wanted to..."

Isaac rolled his eyes and took a ripping bite from a piece of meat. "I've done nothing that you don't deserve, Hector. You can only blame yourself-"

"I don't want to hate you anymore," Hector said, and even as he said that, he was overcome with emotion. He put his hands on Isaac's thigh, slightly squeezing, but it kept him from throttling Isaac's throat. But he knew he didn't have the heart to try to strangle Isaac, not right now, at least. Something more than fear of retaliation was stopping him. "I don't know if I ever can, but I want to forgive you, for everything."

Some kind of raw emotion flashed on Isaac's face at this. It wasn't the usual anger or self-important smirk. It was something else, and it made Isaac look smaller than usual, younger. But a second later his face grew hard once again. "Then you're a bigger fool that I thought. Eat your fucking-"

Hector leaned in closer. "I don't know how, or by how much, but I know Dracula is doing something to you. I know how...persuasive he is. I almost forgot just how strong his influence is until you brought me to him." Here he looked down, his fingers tight on Isaac's leg, as if clinging to him for dear life. It felt that he was clinging to any thoughts that made sense in his head. "I would have done anything for him, just to keep that feeling going. I know this is what drives you, but it's all a lie!"

Isaac rose to his feet, enraged. "You have no right to talk about him, Hector!" he shouted. "What would you know, you who ran like a fucking coward from him? You, who would still sit there and plot against him, to me of all people!" He grabbed Hector by the collar of his newly made, but simple, tunic and shook. "How dare you try to plant doubt in my mind, Hector! I don't care what you think, he loves me and trusts me more than anything!"

Hector gave him a hard look. "If he loves you so much, why is he using me to torture you? Why would he need me at all if he has you?"

Isaac shoved him away. "Shut up! You couldn't possibly understand-"

"Unless he were trying to replace you!" Hector yelled from the ground, and he flinched when Isaac turned to look at him. Expecting a kick any second now, Hector covered his head with this arms, but still kept talking. "He has always favored me, Isaac, you know that! If you're not good enough to replace me after I left, then you're not good enough for him now, he's using you!"

Hector peeked out when the kick didn't come. Isaac had his back to him, shoulders heaving. Carefully, and wincing at his bruises, Hector crept to his knees, wishing he could see Isaac's face, wishing he could touch him. A part of him delighted in seeing Isaac in such pain, but he didn't feel bad for that. He could not be sure he could ever truly forgive Isaac for the things he had done, no matter how much he wanted to let the hatred go.

"I loved you once, Isaac," he said softly. "You were all I had, all that mattered to me, even if you did take things too far. I know this isn't who you really are. You can't be."

He waited, but Isaac still didn't move or speak. Hector stood up very slowly and took a few steps forward. His heart raced, as if he were approaching a snake about to strike, but he knew he had to do this. "I'm never going back to him, Isaac. I'm freeing myself from that. And..." he carefully put a hand on Isaac's back. "I want you to come with me."

Isaac grabbed Hector's hand and twisted him around, forcing Hector's back against his torso. He held Hector's wrist at his side, and at a painful, awkward angle that would have caused the bone to break if any more pressure was put on it. Hector froze, afraid, but not exactly surprised by this reaction. "Isaac, please!" he hissed. "How long are you going to wait, before it's too late? He doesn't—ahhh!-he doesn't love you, you're nothing to him!" Isaac pulled his wrist harder and harder. Any second now, and it would break.

Isaac wrapped his other arm around Hector's waist and hissed his ear, "You've been trying to steal him away from the very beginning, you piece of shit!"

"No! I hate him, Isaac!"

"You really think you can lure me away? You think I'm that stupid?" Isaac screamed. "I should tear you to pieces right now!"

"Dracula would be furious if you did," Hector panted. "You know he would, and he would kill you for it, you know it! If you hated me so much, why haven't you killed me? You're afraid, that's why! You're afraid what will happen to you if you take away the one thing that Dracula truly-" He stopped talking to scream, for Isaac had snapped his wrist. The redhead held onto him tightly, pulling him against himself, for a few minutes, just listening to Hector's panicked moans.

Then he nuzzled Hector's neck and kissed him. The pain in his wrist was fierce, but Hector could still feel the tenderness in Isaac's kiss, and of how he rubbed his face against his own. He tried to nuzzle Isaac back, daring to hope that he might have gotten through to him, but then he was thrown the ground.

Looking up, cradling his wrist, Hector could see tears in Isaac's eyes and a tormented look on his face. Without a word, Isaac knelt down to him and kissed him on the mouth, roughly. He allowed Hector to run his uninjured hand through his hair, and pulled at Hector's clothes. Even though Isaac was on top and held all the power, Hector had the feeling that it was he who was comforting Isaac in this. He was the one who was directing this, and he hadn't felt so alive in months.

Soon Isaac was inside Hector, pumping vigorously and roughly. Hector moaned with every thrust, taken aback by the pleasure. He threw his head back, while Isaac kissed and took gentle bites from his throat and ran his hands over his chest. Hector's injured hand lay uselessly on the grass, but the other gripped Isaac's hair, nearly pulling it out. He tugged in time with Isaac's thrusts, but Isaac did not seem to care.

He also didn't care when Hector let go of his hair to stroke himself. He was spread wide for Isaac, fully giving himself. He did not have the mental capacity right at that moment to worry about what would happen directly after this; all he could focus on was how good it felt, how even the pain and roughness added to his lust for Isaac, and he could tell that Isaac felt the same way. They both kissed and scratched and bit each other, both giving and receiving pain or pleasure, whatever their mood dictated. Just like the old days.

Only when they each were so selfish and self serving could they enjoy each other so much.

As if they shared one heart beat, they came at the same time, both bodies spasming and convulsing, pressed tightly together, both of them panting into each other's mouths. Isaac lay on Hector for a while, without even bothering to pull out, while Hector stroked Isaac's hair, now slick from sweat.

Hector's heart was still filled with a great amount of rage and bitterness, but he realized there was room for other things as well. He did not dare to hope for anything yet, but if Isaac would only make the effort to change for him, then he would be willing to do anything for him in return.

Isaac propped himself up and looked down at Hector with a tired, hard gaze, his eyes red and puffy. He stared for a long time, and Hector met his gaze, hardly breathing. Finally, he said flatly, "This hasn't changed anything, traitor."

Hector looked away and let the tears spill out from him, overtaken by a depression even bleaker than he could imagine. He hardly felt Isaac lift him to his feet and lead him out of the courtyard, and didn't even bother to stop from crying against him. A million things he could say raced through his head, but he knew none of them would work. He couldn't even think of anything worth staying alive for, worth fighting for, not that Isaac would allow him the release of death anyway.

Back at the dungeon he was shackled, but this time Isaac bound his hands in front of his body, so that he could pick up the food Isaac left next to him on the floor. He also left a goat skin full of water.

Finished with Hector, Isaac turned to Trevor, who was barely conscious himself. He untied the Belmont and dragged him out without another word or look to Hector.