Omnipotent: A Menry Story
*****Beware; this chapter will contain graphic content. Don't like it? Skip it*****
Hey everyone! I know, I know, you probably don't want to listen to me ramble because you want to find out what happens to Maggie and Henry. So, if you don't want to read this intro first then read the chapter and then come back to it!
Anyways, Sunburst6548 sent me this message and it totally inspired me. So, I wanted to share it with you. Here it is:
I have to start off by saying that this is an amazing story...one of the best I have read in a long time! I found myself reading it at work this morning, instead of doing my work. I love the plot and the interaction of the characters (I'm a huge Henry/Maggie fan).
I do have to say that things seem to be moving a little quickly, and I really really really hope that you aren't planning an ending any time soon. Like I've said before, you have such an amazing plot and I really hope you expand this story and make it in to a long one. There are so many additional things that you could put these characters through. I would personally love to see them end up on the run together, and maybe even in a few different countries (Maggie could get a small taste of how Henry lived, and I'm sure your bad guy has friends all over the place...right?)
I'm sorry for the long review, but this story has the potential to be epic and I hope you make it so. Your writing style is great (there are a few typos but nothing major) and I absolutely cannot wait for your next update! I'm in love with this story! :)
So when she wrote this I got an idea but it will drag the story on a little longer. I wanted your guys opinion on this; more than likely I'm going to extend the story anyways because I love getting my favorite couple into trouble but if you all totally absolutely hate it then I'll reconsider.
Well, thanks for reading that. Now, if you haven't already read the chapter because you couldn't wait, read it now. I'm serious. Go on, nobody needs you here! Haha, I'm just kidding, I love you guys :D
In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth. – Patti Smith
TAKE: To acquire, frequently by force but preferably by stealth. – Ambrose Bierce
Compassion is sometimes the fatal capacity for feeling what it is like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too. – Frederick Buechner
P A R T / E I G H T
Maggie was running.
Sprinting would probably be a more accurate direct object, actually.
The brunette's converse pounded sporadically against the cold concrete walkways as she attempted to find her way out of this maze. If you've ever been locked in a tiny closet with knifes pointing at you then you might understand the panic that was slowly upturning the young woman's analytical focus.
You'll never make it out alive, voices seemed to be whispering, echoing from every corridor and chorusing from the handful of jutting hallways.
Maggie shivered, pulling the peach-colored robe tighter around her half-frozen form. Maybe it was just the fear talking, but her body felt like it was about to spasm and collapse on the chilly ground from lack of warmth.
Surpassing a jut in the dimly lit path the brunette gulped audibly, nearly screaming as her tense gaze flickered over a gruesome picture on the stone wall. It depicted first a man that looked suspiciously like Jasper at age 25 walking along his merry way; however, that happiness was quickly sapped as the next painting showed the very same man lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. A knife pierced the left side of his slightly hairy chest where his heart should have been beating consistently.
"I miss you, Jasper," Maggie remarked with a sad sigh, running her fingers over the portrait on the crude stone embankment.
Just thinking about the brunette sent the girl into a flurry of diverse emotions; she'd developed a small crush on the former back in ninth grade, although she would have never admitted that to the supposed super student. It was probably just puppy love, she entertained shortly, running a shaky hand through her poker straight brown locks. Although her heart had managed to skip a few beats whenever Jasper entered a room she could have never imagine kissing him. The concept had been somewhat intriguing but mainly gross.
So why did it feel like she was betraying him whenever Henry touched her and an indescribable passion filled her heart and soul?
"Stop acting like such a girl…" Maggie hissed under her breath, mentally slugging herself in the upper arm.
But I am a girl.
Just then the sound of scuffling feet echoed from a few hallways back. Maggie bit her bottom lip hard to repress a shriek as a familiar voice crooned blood-curdling statements towards her.
"I know you're here, Miss Winnock," Jehav lilted, scraping the edge of his knife against the stone wall. A shriek resonated around the underground space eerily. "Don't bother trying to hide from me."
The brunette couldn't bring herself to utter a word.
"I admit I was amused by your little feat back with Demi. You have fantastic hand-eye coordination," the murderer complimented.
"You s-saw that?" Maggie whispered and immediately Jehav's head and torso shifted to where he heard her voice emit from. A sardonic smirk twisted his lips drastically and suddenly his dark orbs didn't seem so humorous anymore.
"Of course, I have security cameras rigged up all over my headquarters," the man explained, his eyes narrowing slightly as he peered north towards the slab of rock behind which the brunette was hiding. "You know, once I'm done violating you, I might just keep you around as a bodyguard. What do you say to that, precious?"
Maggie hesitated. For a second a scenario panned in front of her glazed vision, promising that if she just let him have his way with her then she could live. Henry could find her and they could escape. But Henry told me to fight…I can't just give up!
"We'll deal with that proposition later, hmm?" Jehav eluded smoothly, his lips parting over his gleaming teeth. "Did you hear the news about your boyfriend, Henry?"
"He's not my boyfriend," the young woman replied harshly, gritting her teeth as an image of the blonde headed adolescence blossomed in her mind. "Henry and boyfriend-land is somewhere I will never go," she insisted, smiling slightly as she recalled telling Tamba the exact same thing several months ago.
Except a couple months ago she'd actually meant it.
"Very well, I suppose you won't mind then if I tell you my minion…err…disposed of Mr. Griffin." Jehav told her, repressing a slithery chuckle.
"W-what?" Maggie's face grew white and she pressed against the stone wall. He's lying; Henry would never allow himself to be killed…
"You want the details, I see," the murderer responded appreciatively, shifting his footing and rubbing his hands vigorously together. "Well, Henry and some of his little incompetent cohorts were crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and I had my best man Rich toss a CBU-72 Fuel Air Explosive at em'. They were blasted into the Pacific along with thousands of innocent people!" Jehav supplied joyfully.
It was sickening to consider the fact that this man actually loved watching individuals perish.
"So, what do you say to becoming my newest minion, Margaret?" The scoundrel wondered plaintively.
The fact that he said her full name was the last straw. Maggie could vividly still remember Henry mentioning once how hard it was for him to stand back when her and Jasper were being tortured and disabled; he'd illustrated the near psychotic rage that overpowered his system and that he had to fight excruciatingly hard to suppress it.
The brunette had never believed that she could be capable of holding this kind of psychotic abyss in her heart, until now.
Jasper's dead, my dad is dead, my mom is in a coma, my house is non-existent and now Henry is dead. I'm all alone and it's all this man's fault.
"Burn in hell, asshole," Maggie spat out, spinning away from the wall and facing the murderer.
There was no fear in her now. Only ominous intent and anger…so, so much anger that it was practically tearing her apart from the inside.
Jehav stood like a statue mere feet from Maggie and yet he didn't flinch a muscle at her sudden exclamation. "You can't beat me, dollface," he reported with a wink, his hand stretching out to capture her wrist; he squeezed a little too tightly and the brunette snapped into action.
Her foot launched out, connecting with his gut and although a grimace distorted his face for a moment he didn't let go. Instead, he only gripped the bone a little tighter until Maggie was squirming with discomfort.
"I already told you, you can't win," Jehav whispered hauntingly, his dark brown orbs so cold that Maggie had to look away.
Ignoring the warning, the young woman's arm shot out, her clenched fist preparing to connect with his soft cheek, but the murderer's other hand stopped the attack. He smirked.
"I'm not as easy as Demi, would you agree?" He laughed to himself, shooting her a furtive glance before twisting her left wrist so hard that she cried out.
"You killed both of my best friends!" Maggie roared, her right foot jabbing upward in a last attempt to escape. It connected with the fork between his legs and Jehav released her wrist with a grunt of pain, falling to his knees.
Maggie turned to run in any which direction might lead to safety but the murderer's finger closed around the hem of her jeans, leaving her to sprawl face-first onto the ground. As the brunette's head connected with the ground she let out a sharp ringing cry, covering her face in her hands as rocks lanced deep cuts across her forehead and cheeks. Blood began to seep from the wounds, the scent metallic, like a rusty penny.
"Bitch!" Jehav swore, his foot pounding in between the young woman's shoulder blades. Agony laced up Maggie's spine and she bit back a yelp, fighting the growing urge to break down and weep. A swift kick to the girl's ankle sent a tear riveting down next to her nose; by the amount of pain throbbing in the skin above her foot she guessed that it was at least a nasty sprain, if not worse.
Grabbing the back of the robe and pulling it off her, Jehav thrust the unsuspecting victim into the stone wall, laughing as she screamed. Her bra covered up her chest nicely, leaving enough cleavage to drive the hormonal adult insane. Her polka-dotted panties outlined her lower curves just right yet restrained him from seeing too much.
Maggie bit down on the adult's beefy hand, hard, wincing as he yelled and then punched her flat in the neck, knocking the air out of her. As she was still recovering from the numerous blows Jehav leaned closer, dropping a trail of kisses down her jaw line and neck.
"No!" The brunette pushed him off, her chocolate orbs lit up with obscene fear yet fierce determination. Henry would have wanted me to fight. So, I'll fight and die trying to stop this horrible man.
So she fought. She fought hard, but it just wasn't enough.
He was too powerful.
And after it was done he stood there and watched her sob, chuckling mirthfully to himself.
He didn't kill her because he wanted to use her. He didn't kill her because he wanted to pleasure himself.
But he did things to her that made her wish she was dead.
Henry's nearly lifeless body floated to the surface of the water and shivering, the adolescent spit out the water consuming his system. Gasps and little hics emitted hoarsely from his lips until he couldn't talk anymore; his voice was entirely gone.
A car, bruised and busted up beyond compare, floated like a war memorial just inches from the blonde haired male's face, the occupants of the vehicle still within. The bodies were blackened and bloodied, not to mention totally unrecognizable.
Henry's shaking arms extended, his trembling fingers gripping at the door of the car and, with a massive effort, he pulled himself slightly on top of the vehicle. That simple little action sent his mind into a spin and the young man's head thumped down on the dented exterior.
Several minutes simply passed in which Henry could do nothing but gaze blankly in front of him, his face blanched beyond belief. He could clearly see the extremities of the horrific accident around him, could almost touch the sinking bodies and fuming cars, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to comprehend that a national monument had been blown up.
And then, his glance happened to dart downwards. His whole world seemingly crumbled in front of his eyes.
His parents. Lying in a car so mashed up that it was almost unidentifiable. The only reason that Henry could detect just who those poor two souls were was because, well, there was no bomb wounds leftover. His mom and dad were perfectly untouched, other than the knives protruding from each of their chests.
"It's a warning," the diverse young man accepted, turning his face away from the man and woman who'd taught him everything he knew. A tear slipped down his cheek and then vanished into the ocean where it melded with millions of other tears just like his.
For a long while Henry allowed himself to silently grieve; he didn't often cry and even when the reluctant tears squeezed out the blonde wouldn't stoop to screaming to the sky. He would address the heart-wrenching issue with acceptance, peace and maturity.
"I'm so sorry, mom and dad," Henry whispered, glancing back at his parents one last time and memorizing their familiar features. "I didn't think they'd kill you this soon…I would have protected you."
The car on which he was perched on continued to drift steadily along in the rippling current, soon leaving Mr. and Mrs. Griffin to sink down into the depths. Hopefully Poseidon would grace them with golden dishes and an extravagant excavation site.
Henry turned to look at the devastation the murderers had recently committed, his disbelieving hazel orbs highlighting the burning halves of the Golden Gate Bridge and the remains of thousands of cars strewn amidst the desecrated monument. Various altitudes of alarms shrieked within every destroyed vehicle, sending the blonde's head to pounding.
But one car in particular caught the teen's acute attention.
The black Mercedes left stretching skid marks on the remains of the bridge as it zoomed in obtuse circles. The driver, Rich, had left the tinted window rolled down and Henry could, unfortunately, make out the victorious smirk lifting the corners of the villains lips.
Suddenly, Henry's hazel orbs widened slightly, connecting with the trunk of the Mercedes as it came to a harsh stop by the edge of the water. Rich stepped out, slamming the driver's door shut mercilessly as he stalked off, pulling out his shimmering silver cell phone. The engine of the vehicle was still running, which meant the keys had been left in the ignition.
"I won't let you down," the adolescent whispered to the souls of his dead parents.
Sliding into the current, he shivered briefly as the chilly tang of the ocean waves sapped the warmth from his skin before beginning to paddle in the direction of the shore. The water lapped at his body like a puppy's tongue, soothing the brave swimmer, when just minutes ago it'd been a whirlwind of demolition, sucking in countless lives without repentance.
Memories of the blonde haired boy's parents resurfaced as Henry continued to fight the growing waves: the hikes through the Conocranra and Huascaran mountains in Peru, the photography experience at the volcano on the Kamchatka peninsula in Russia, a flight to the ruins of the Temple of Artemis, goddess of the hunt, in present day Turkey and so much more.
Now there would be no more trips with his role models, Henry commiserated.
Then again, Henry always had felt like a Weaver Ant, from the genus Oecophylla, under his parent's immense shadow. He could specifically recall the trio's trip to a recent excavation sight back in Washington D.C when he'd uncovered a murder mystery; even with all the recognition the young man had seriously doubted his worthiness and rarity to his parent's cause.
Finally Henry reached the nearest shore, his whole body shaking with fatigue. The brief rest upon the dented car had revitalized the young man somewhat but he still longed for a good night's sleep. But I won't rest until I rescue Maggie. If she's still alive.
Rich was still pacing several feet away from the tinted Mercedes and so, with a stabilizing breath, Henry bent into a crouch, creeping stealthily towards the front door. He was only a few inches away from the keys now and they glistened eerily in the fading daylight, enticing him to come quicker.
The minion's voice was quickly becoming heated. "I told you, I've finished him!" He yelled furiously.
The individual on the other end of the line screamed a paragraph's worth of words combined with a multitude of profanities and Rich's face whitened with fear.
"Well you should have told me that you wanted Griffin alive before I disposed of his corpse!" The minion retaliated and without another hesitation Henry reached up and pressed a button on the keys.
The trunk popped open with a swish.
Just as Henry was about to pop up and hide away in the back of the villain's car, however, he saw Rich's head turn suspiciously in the direction of his Mercedes.
"One second, boss, I thought I heard something," the minion mumbled, his body stumbling in the direction of the flat roofed vehicle.
The tang of booze in Rich's car easily signified that the older man had been drinking and the blonde haired teen certainly didn't want to be at the other end of that rage.
Backpedaling as quickly as possible Henry inhaled sharply before plugging his nose and shifting onto the toes of his boots. Once he reached the slightly gaping trunk the boy dove into the sweaty abyss of the back of the car without any second thoughts. Any hesitation would result in his termination.
The adolescent quickly reached for a ratty blanket that'd been discarded in the truck, tossing it over his huddled form before ducking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. The footsteps echoed gravely against the gravel as Rich headed towards the rear of his fancy ride.
Henry zeroed his mind in on one memory that he knew he'd cherish forever; the monks he'd trained with over many years in the past had equally instructed that in situations such as this, one should focus one's conscious in order to slow the heartbeat and breathing.
The image was of Maggie and his parents; two months ago, after they'd apologized for missing the Parent Welcome brunch, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin had spent the weekend in sunny DC, hanging out with their son on every possible occasion. Of course, their definition of fun had always resided in studying hieroglyphics in a lab, whereas Henry wanted to be out in the world uncovering murders and the like.
To Henry's surprise, however, Maggie had taken a great interest in the hieroglyphic unscrambling his parents had been working on that weekend. After he'd introduced the attractive brunette to his laid back folks the three of them had hit it off instantly, burrowing in the DOUM wing's lab until the crack of dawn every 24 hours.
Henry could still vividly recall Maggie giggling at something his mother had stated and then bantering in return. It was the happiest he'd seen his best friend in such a long time and even though he didn't realize his intimate feelings for the brunette then he'd still experienced a warm feeling in his heart. Maybe he'd liked Maggie even then, though; he just hadn't been aware of it.
Rich's footsteps were still crunching in the dirt as he neared the trunk but Henry was totally in the zone. All the blonde could picture now behind his sealed eyelids was Maggie's smile and her laugh.
He'd do anything to put the joy back on his best friend's face.
Rich snorted as he spotted the popped trunk and then, with a disgusted grimace, he slammed shut the door, locking Henry in a dark pit with no hope of a present escape.
Henry relaxed into the itchy carpet material of the trunk, jumping as the engine roared to life and the Mercedes shot off to who knows where. All the young man could hope and pray was that Rich was heading for the Hilabiti's main headquarters; if not, the blonde was doomed.
A picture popped to mind: one of Jeremy Torante and Sarah Voltez and Henry found himself swallowing back a mound of guilt. They had willingly put themselves in the line of danger, had driven onto the bridge even when they knew they were probably about to die. They'd aided in his search for Maggie and had died helping him.
A mumble distracted the teenager and Henry strained his ear as a ring tone went off in the front seat.
"What?" Rich snapped. There was a pause, probably the person on the other end replying.
"I was on my way to Washington…wait, why do I have to come to headquarters? This isn't fair!" The minion whined like a toddler.
Another moment passed and Henry pressed his ear tighter against the edge of the trunk, desperate to make out just what the two were conversing about.
"Oh, she's still alive?"
That caught Henry's attention. "Maggie," he whispered dully before returning his intense attention back to Rich.
"Was she good? Did she fight you?" Rich laughed, the sound sending chills up and down Henry's spine.
"Ah, I love the girls that fight. It makes stealing their innocence so much more enjoyable," the villain agreed, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
One more pause, and in that moment Henry understood just what they were talking about. His hazel orbs saturated with moisture, sympathy blossoming for his best friend and the torture she'd been through. "They stole your virginity," he whispered, horrorstruck.
"Yeah…yeah, fine, I'm coming, don't get your antibacterial underpants in a knot," Rich mocked, flipping his phone shut and pressing down on the accelerator.
Henry pinched the bridge of his nose as his lips trembled, droplets threatening to spill from his eyes. Fury began to overpower every other rational emotion, dominating his normally peace-centered chakra, fury over what those bastards were doing to his best friend.
"I'm coming, Mags, just hold on a little longer," Henry whispered, his tone thick with emotion. I'm going to save you Maggie. I'm so sorry for what they did to you.
Maggie lay motionless on a round table slightly tilted so that the whole audience could see her nude form. Whip marks covered her pale flesh and blood streamed from the fresh wounds, forcing groans of agony from the brunette's lips.
She struggled once more to release her arms and legs from the ropes that restrained her, to no avail. Pushing back tears the young woman's frosty gaze met the intrigued and lust filled glances of the men and women gathered. She would not cry to sate their hunger for pain; she would never give her captors that satisfaction.
Maggie's struggles doubled in intensity as Jehav crept up to the stage, clutched a bulky wrap in his arms. After setting down the mysterious object the murderer turned to the members of the Hilabiti, a sly smirk drifting onto his pursed, cracked lips.
"Tonight, brothers and sisters, we bring you the final sacrifice. For hundreds of years we have combed the Earth for the daughter of Artemis, a direct descendant of Adolf Hitler, in order to shed her blood. Ares waits eagerly for this special girl and tonight he has beguiled Artemis to bless us with a full moon. We have brought you the sacred one!" His crooked finger pointed at Maggie.
Maggie's eyes widened as she dissolved his words into the most basic sense. For some reasons unknown the Hilabiti believed that they could not possess the gift of true power in the war and in the hunt without the blessings of Artemis and Ares.
The only way to obtain these special powers, however, was to offer up a human sacrifice of one who was blessed with Aphrodite's dazzling beauty, Athena's divine wisdom, Artemis' blessing and Hitler's lineage. There was only one woman in history who could endow all of these traits, so legend stated. These individuals gathered here honestly believed that she, Maggie, was the sacred one. And if so, she was going to die in a brutal massacre of her body tonight.
Jehav reached for the nearest whip, winding it around his arms a few times before lashing it out and letting the tip connect with Maggie's stomach. The brunette winced, biting back a scream as the whip landed once more, and then again, the wounds smarting terribly. The strokes slowly lost meaning to the young woman as she fell into an abyss of agony.
Finally, the lashes ceased and Jehav's voice rang out once more, powerful and fearless. "Tonight," he stated calmly, "we are going to rise to our full potential. After tonight, we will be unstoppable. This is what our forefather, Hitler, would have wanted. Hail Hitler!" He raised his arm in the proper salute to the dead tyrant.
Breaking his disturbingly alive gaze from the audience Jehav's long, bony fingers closed around the dull white package, unwrapping it slowly and precisely.
Maggie's breath caught in her throat. The object hidden just moments before was an axe, the head splattered with dried blood.
Jehav turned to the brunette, cupping the axe gently in his two hands as he stepped musingly in the girl's direction. His insane gaze turned upward and he began mumbling phrases in ancient German; Maggie could barely decipher it.
"Ach sammeln, Vater Hitler, heute Abend diese demütigen Mitglieder in Vorahnung einer alten Prophezeiung erfüllt zu warden.
(Oh, Father Hitler, tonight these humble members gather in anticipation of an ancient prophecy being fulfilled).
"Für heute Abend, Vater, wir opfern das heilige, die Frau, die die Priester von unserer Reihenfolge erzählt hat, dass uns kommen würden. Ihr Haar fließt, wie ein Wasserfall und ihre schokoladen braunen Augen mit Leben schimmern. Aber wenn die Axt fällt, wird ihr Leben nein mehr sein und die Prophezeiung wird erfüllt warden."
(For tonight, Father, we sacrifice the sacred one, the woman that the priests of our order told us would come. Her hair flows like a waterfall and her chocolate brown eyes shimmer with life. But when the axe falls her life will be no more and the prophecy will be fulfilled).
"Bitte mein Herr, lässt die Wörter des Prophezeiungsrings wahr. Lassen Sie die Knochen in unseren Körpern wachsen riesig, lassen Sie uns zu neun Füße groß wachsen. Wir werden unschlagbar sein und keine Angst wird je unsere Herzen eintragen."
(Please, my lord, let the words of the prophecy ring true. Let the bones in our bodies grow huge, let us grow to nine feet tall. We will be invincible and no fear will ever enter our hearts).
"Jetzt mit Ihrer Segnung, Allmächtig Einer, lässt uns das heilige zu ihrem Tod verurteilen und nimmt unsere ewigen Geschenke an. Kann die Götter annehmen dieses demütige Angebot."
(Now, with your blessing, Almighty One, let us condemn the sacred one to her death and accept our eternal gifts. May the gods accept this humble offering).
Tears were seeping down Maggie's face, soaking her eyelashes with excess droplets, as Jehav slid the blade of the blood encrusted knife across her wrists, leaving thin cuts. He repeated the process with her ankles and then with her shoulders and knees. After gashes had been slit into the brunette's cheeks the murderer pressed the blade against Maggie's neck for a brief moment before raising it in the air.
"Henry, help me, please," Maggie whispered, her chocolate brown orbs sliding shut as she prepared for the fatal blow. Tears streaked her cheeks and jaw line and her hair was all mussed up but at the present moment she didn't care.
She just pictured her best friend's face in her mind: his flat blonde hair, his warm hazel orbs, his accentuated muscles, everything. The thought of never seeing him again frightened her beyond belief. Goodbye…
The axe fell.
SPARKNOTES:
Aren't I just so incredible infuriating, with all these cliffhangers?
Now before you get all furious with me just remember that nothing is as it seems. All I'm going to say other than that is that there was a definite time difference between when Henry clambered in the trunk of the Mercedes and when Maggie was tied to the elevated table. 'Nuff said, don't you think?
Review and I'll update faster! Just a little hint there, in case you wanted to see what happens next. :D
-mktoddsparky
