Chapter 10
Disclaimer: None of Darksiders belongs to me. The fic alone is mine along with Agony.
Warning, this fic contains, yaoi, het, non con torture and other things to make you shudder.
All flames will be sent to Lilith for proper disposal.
Death was getting a little bit annoyed with this constant situation. Waking up tired and confused at where he was and what was going on was getting repetitive. Trying to move he noticed his body refused to obey, his head wouldn't budge, and his muscles seemed to be petrified. Even his eyelids felt weighed down, cracking them open took much more strength then it should have.
It took a few minutes for his eyes to focus at the objects in front of him. Yet when they did he wished he was still knocked out. His stomach dropped, his throat tightened and his body, if it wasn't already unmoving would have frozen. Further in front of him against a cavern wall, locked in a crystal prison, was Absalom or at least the corrupt version of his body. Death moved his sight over to the next crystal seeing another body trapped as well, this one he also knew as his brother and one of Agony's lover, Pride. The body was stitched up from the top of his head to his lower body. Looking down the line he noticed the bodies of his fallen race confined in crystal. Death couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was impossible.
"Back wit us are ya." Belisatra's voice echoed in the large open room. She emerged from his right going straight to work on a bench to the left of the room. Recovering from the shock of what he had just seen Death took time to look around as much as he could.
It was a large cave like area, stalagmites and stalactites were forming all around the open area of the cavern. Water dripped into small pools illuminated by some strange light from its depth. Strange albino creatures scuttled around the stone floor, hiding or emerging from the deep cracks along the edges. A large yellow crystal was hanging above him pulsing with a sickly glow. He noticed a few hanging around the chamber adding a strange aura to the place. Noticing something off Death was able to move his head slightly to the side, pain shooting up his spine at the simple movement.
His arms were suspended above his head, locked into place by a thick metal band attached to the slab he was propped up against. Though he couldn't see, his band was etched in heavy ancient text with a thin band of glass across its center. The glass was filled with corruption but for what purpose no one knew but Belisatra. His ankles were also bound but not by a metal band. His boots were removed leaving them bare up to his calf. He refused to flinch as he noticed the flakes of dried blood falling off around the four prong spike that had settled through flesh and bone and into the metal slab. Thick chains attached to the ceiling helped to raise the metal table a good three feet of the ground. Underneath him were deep grooves carved into the floor. He didn't have to see to know that there was blood staining the floor beneath him. What he couldn't sense was how old it was or whom it once belonged to. The pungent smell mixed all around him, clinging to his skin and hair.
Once more he tried to move only succeeding in a slight twitch of his left leg. That earned him another jolt of pain coursing through his body. The action caused him to notice something else, something that he actually dreaded. Taking a more careful look at himself as much as he could he noticed the crystal shards were not only imbedded in his skin but more like mending into it. Knowing it would cause him pain, Death tried to move his arm watching the muscles tighten around the patch of crystallized skin.
Biting his tongue, he watched the muscles constrict, the edges where the crystal met skin cracking. He applied more force wanting the accursed shards off him. He felt the muscles twist and pull, a needle like pain lacing through the small area. He heard the accelerated footsteps, could even sense the sick energy of joy rolling off the corrupt Maker even before she stood in front of him.
"Havin' trouble. Please, allow me ta help." Reaching out Belisatra's used her fingernails to grasp the edge of the crystal and slowly pulled. Death looked at her not flinching even once. She held his gaze, the twisted smile only growing as she took her time. Peeling it off she watched the dark blood slowly ooze down his arm, droplets falling onto the floor. Breaking her gaze she turned the crystal over in her hands, fascinate by something on the underside. Turning her back she left him not even waiting to return to her workbench when she started to fiddle with it.
Death dropped his chin to his chest, trying to calm his breathing. He refused to show any pain when she tore at the wound trying to think of anything else that would keep him calm. A shuffling from his right lined his vision with an even stranger sight, his pain forgotten for the time being.
Patches of skin and missing muscle from his right arm, left leg twisted at an odd angle, the body of Pestilence staggered into Death's view. The snapped neck barley held the head on his shoulders, only strands of dried hay colored hair remained on the bloated head covering milky white eyes that were sunk into the sockets. The body stopped nearly toppling over to shift towards Death. The skin, what was left of it, was a sickly moss green, split wounds festering with patched of black around the edges.
Pestilence staggered in front of him, the foul aroma of rot and decay just oozing from every pore of the mangled corpse. The smile literally unhinged the lower jaw, a few of the remaining teeth falling to the floor, as the odor from his mouth was just as retched as the rest of him.
"Something wrong rider? You look surprised." The Chancellor's voice was mingled with Pestilence, the sound was a mix between sandpaper being rubbed together and a whizzing kettle. Snickering the corpse dragged itself to an opening besides Belisatra's workbench. A glyph appeared overhead causing the wall to become transparent. Inside Death could see the walls lined with the crystal coffins, each one occupied with a body of a fallen Nephilim. Pestilence's body stopped over one his body simply sinking into it. Once fully submerged, the Chancellor exited the body before the crystal hardened once more. Leaving the storage room the glyph faded away locking the room and its view.
"How does it look?" He spied over the Maker's shoulder to see her progress. Her table was littered with metal parts along with pieces of flesh, organs and bones. One part was a long barrel like pipe made of sown muscle and tendons. Attached to the end was a ribbon of teeth bound by the corruption. Next to that was the piece of crystal skin she had just ripped from Death. Her hands picked at the flesh watching it as it unfurled on the stone table once free of the crystal layer. Using a pair of tweezers she stretched the skin wrapping it along the barrel watching as it seemed to fuse together. She looked up at him the grin on her face like that of an excited child.
"Well than it seems we were correct in needing you pale rider. The hatred your kind has for you is what will make our work complete." He moved to hover right in front of Death, his hand patting Death on the head like one would congratulate a child on a job well done. Death tried to move his head away, hating the feeling of being touched by this deranged being.
"You must be fooling yourself if you think you can mimic the creation of the Abominations by using the bodies of the Nephilim."
"Yes yes yes, we know that already. Their souls, no thanks to you, can no longer return to their bodies, just mere empty husks. But..." the Chancellor turned the metal table that Death was on around showing him a large steaming crater. Hanging above it was a large chain pulley system. Death watched as the Chancellor snapped his fingers starting up the system. The chains creaked, the ice covering them breaking off, some shattering on the ground the others hissing as they fall into the crater. Unseen gears churned and creaked as the object from below made its way up. Death narrowed his eyes trying to make it out through the curtain of steam. A large jagged point was the first part to emerge followed by a larger chunk of the emerald crystal. The green glow emanated the area as soon as the light shown on it, the forms inside of it pressing up against its surface.
From Demons, to Angels even a few humans and other races that Death was not familiar with, pressed their gauntly faces against the prison. He could feel their anger, the rage and despair all of it directed towards him. Strangely enough when the dead would empower him this time his strength seem to seep out of him. He noticed the Chancellor's face full of glee, already figuring out Death's predicament.
"Allow me to explain from the beginning, if that's alright with you my dear?" Belisatra just grunted from behind them, not at all interested in what was being said but with what was in front of her.
"Women, I doubt even the creator himself understands them. Now then as I was saying we seem to have found a means to rectify that issue with this method. All we needed were souls to inhabit their bodies, well until they become useful in harvesting the raw materials we need to create the weapons. And also before you need to ask." The Chancellor waved his hand once more bringing the crystal even closer to Death. Death could feel it even before it stopped in front of him, the pull of every cell in his body seem to twist and burn. Biting his tongue at the pain he looked down at his chest watching as shards of crystal began to form over his skin.
"My dear gifted Maker was able to etch your body with these little beauties while you slumbered. Try as you might, when your necromancy or other powers are triggered, the crystals will react to it and well you've seen the outcome. We can't have you spoiling all our hard work, now can we." Death tried to block out the snickering voice, concentrating more on trying to figure out a way through the situation. It was difficult with the growing shards ripping through the skin of his upper torso. He could feel the blood seep into his pants, flowing freely onto the floor. Never had he felt so vulnerable.
"How…were you able to acquire so many souls? Someone must have noticed." Death focused on the swirling mass in front of him, noticing for the first time the chill washing over his face, his mask missing. He inwardly grimaced at the light that shined in those sunken eyes an even deeper smile gracing the ghoulish face.
"Would have noticed my dear reaper. The Lord of Bones really should have heeded your warning. The fool should not have declared corruption such a lowly threat, since he himself has fallen victim to it. And as Belisatra can control it, she controls him. It was simply a matter of finding certain souls strong enough to handle the infusion. And once more, thanks to both your powers once the souls are in the bodies we will be able to… resurrect them."
"Both…what does Agony have to do with this?" Death could feel bile rise in his throat, the look the Chancellor had on his face reminded him of the lustful looks his deceased brethren would cast on the other Horsemen.
"She has her usefulness. While your ability's will be to raise the dead, hers will be to patch up the bodies. There would be no point in having the souls enter a damaged vessel let alone use them as they are now. And besides," he moved to hover right in front of Death a clawed hand caressing the encased chest, "it has been quite some time since I've laid with another. She seems suitable for the jo…" He never got to finish his sentence as a hand gripped his throat. The Chancellor stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping open as Death was able to free one hand and clutch at the ghastly throat.
Death ignored the pain his necromancy was causing, already the crystals starting to form a trail from his right shoulder to the tips of his fingers. He snarled pulling the decrepit face close to his, eyes burning with rage teeth bared. How dare this putrid pile of filth even consider laying a finger on Agony? His anger grew even more, thinking of the others, if they too had been capture and subjected to this sort of malice. He felt the fear from his capture, hands clawing at his for release, the body twisting and turning to escape him.
A large hand gripped his, fingers digging into flesh and crystal. His eyes slanted to the right watching as Belisatra locked his gaze. Her hand continued to squeeze, shards crumbling onto the floor. Placing her other hand to his wrist she jerked one hand down the other pulling up. There was a sickening snap but Death once more ignored the pain, it was nothing to the boiling hatred churning inside of him.
The Chancellor fell back, staggering a few feet away hand clutching his throat. He flinched never believing that his form could be harmed. He looked to the two in front of him gaze still locked onto each other. She didn't stop there, grabbing at his elbow and bending it backwards until she watched as the bone broke through the skin. The arm was dropped, falling uselessly at Death's side, blood trickling down for a moment before the crystals formed around the wound. Before either one could do anything Belisatra reached to her side thrusting the long blade through Death's body at an angle. She twisted Affliction watching closely at Death's reaction. Except for a small jolt of his body Death lay still refusing to show her any weakness. Instead he calmed his nerves feeling the poison course through him, his skin where the blade entered and exited already darkening, peeling around the edges. Death smirked at the sour look on Belisatra's face. It was the last thing he remembered seeing as his vision hazed into nothing.
"How disappointing." she muttered lowering the metal table to lay flat. Death's body slumped to the side, arm dangling off. He looked much a rag doll thrown carelessly away. The Chancellor watched as she went to work, ripping the blade from Death's body. He shuddered at the noise of skin tearing, the clatter of metal skittering across the limestone floor. It wasn't that he was fearful of what was in store for the rider but more than he was enjoying the show of cruelty. Absently wavering the crystal prison back into its depths, he stared transfixed at the sight before him.
Belisatra had to make special tools to counter Death's necromancy abilities if she wanted their plans to work. He watched as she retrieved them from her workbench along with the stool. She attached the tray onto the metal table looking to see which tool would best serve to begin. She reached for a rune etched scalpel placing the flat of it along Death's chest. They both watched as the etchings began to glow a light blue seeping into the edge. She trailed it lightly across his collarbone, watching the thin line of blood appear. Marking the initial cut, she then processed to dig the blade in deeper, cutting through muscle and bone as well. And yet Death did not stir, not even from the pain.
The Chancellor did flinch when the Maker, instead of using her tools, peeled the skin away from the muscle like a grape with her nails. He watched as she pulled layers of muscle pinning it either onto Death's side or stretching it onto the table with thin like crystal needles. The Chancellor moved to hover right in front of Death taking in the pale face, a twitch every now and then the only motion from the bound rider. His sight moved behind the two into another room.
His grin spread wondering when the others turn would approach. They had more in store for the two First Born that he couldn't wait to try out. He looked back to the two Nephilim trapped in the crystals by the wall. They too would play a part in tormenting their captives. Rubbing at his chin his mind wondered to the other Horseman and angel. Surely they would try to formulate a plan to rescue the others. Crossing to a nearby chamber, this one identical to the other save for size and filled with scrolls and tomes.
He fluttered to and fro muttering to himself each title he passed by hoping to find a certain one. Stopping on the forth shelf from the ground up he found the hefty tome tucked in the far left corner of the case. Grasping it he ran a slender finger along the spine, feeling the leather skin of its cover. The rest of the book was sown in stitches, parts of it made from the flesh of different beings of creation. He raised it to eye level watching closely at the circular lock chained at the center. It didn't take long as the patch of skin popped open, revealing what was once a normal eye but time and Belisatra's skills created something else.
Its pupil was a slanted cat's eye colored in a murky brown, the iris a steel blue with blotches of red and a bloodshot sclera stared up at him. It blinked, the crust crumbling off its eyelash, as if it had just woken up from a deep sleep. (1)
"Hello dear friend. I apologizes for waking you from your slumber but I need a favor, a certain spell for our guests and for some that may drop by." He caressed the spine once more feeling it shiver in his hands. With a crack that sounded much like bones snapping, the lock opened and the chains slithered back into a few open gashes. The pungent smell of rotten meat wafted up from the aged pages, flecks of dust and other unknown bits floating into the air. The pages stopped more towards the end outlining what its wielder was looking for. The Chancellor's chuckled, fingertips raking over the spells and diagrams.
"Ah, yessss, these will do nicely. Now to get the materials all will be set." Placing a marker on the page he tucked the book under his arm floating back to the main chamber already formulating ways to execute his findings.
"Let the Horseman come, let them all come. They will find nothing but a former shell of the Pale rider if that at all."
War grimaced, the force behind the whip nothing of what it once was. Fury glared at the hand clutching the hilt of her weapon. She cursed grinding her teeth as her wrist throbbed in pain. Strife watched from his perch on top the same large rock by the stream they had occupied before Death and Agony's capture a few weeks ago.
True to Muria's words and to War's frustration, the antidote had taken three days to take full effect on his siblings. What they hadn't expected was the state that they would awaken to. Taking the vials once more Muria had examined a few drop of the potion breaking it down to see what had caused the two Nephilim to return in such a weakened state. The news did not sit well with any of them. Grounded into the elixir was more of the same green crystal, practically poisoning them from the inside. The effects Belisatra no doubt intended to cause the Riders should the antidote fall into their hands. It would give her and the Chancellor more time with Death and Agony. But to do what, no one wanted to even begin to think of what it could be.
Azrael watched everything closely, from the days War sat vigilant by his sibling's side, to the moment they had awaken. Though not visible to most, his time spent with the Red rider showed Azrael the relief in those once vacant eyes. He stood by War's side listening as he explained everything to Fury and Strife noticing that in a way he hid a few details of his own involvement with Death.
Both Strife and Fury looked at each other, knowing something was off but too tired at the moment to argue with War. It was the same time Muria entered the room a steaming kettle in one hand and a try of food in the other. She handed Azrael the tray and set the kettle onto the nightstand stating if they wanted to hurry up and help their siblings that they would be wise to take what was offered. After that little bit of information she left them saying she would be in her usual spot if they needed anything. War received a cross look from the others when he went to sit Fury up, holding the cup full of the steaming liquid for her.
"What are we invalid? We can feed ourselves." War sighed, wondering if this was what taking care of them was like for Death in the past. He passed the cup to Fury eying Strife as he struggled to get up. Even when the two were sitting up against the pillows they were already out of breath. War watched as Fury downed her drink once more grimacing at the taste dropping the cup on her lap.
"I swear, if this quest doesn't kill us then theses treatments will." Fury grumbled leaning back against Strife. Looking up to at her lover she notice him glaring at the offered cup Azrael had holding out for him. The angel rolled his eyes at the gunner, clearly not in the mood as well.
"Would you prefer I pour it down your throat myself or just waste time staring at it?" All three looked at him, not use to the snappish tone. He was clearly irritated just as much as the rest of them in this situation.
"The faster you regain your strength with our help, the quicker we can be on our way to find the others." Grasping Strife's hands he closed them around the ceramic cup making sure the shaky fingers would not drop it. Strife blinked looking from the cup to Azrael before smirking at him.
"Look who finally grew a pair." Strife grunted at both the taste of his drink and the elbow to the side courtesy of Fury.
Now War and Azrael were busy helping the two riders train to get their strength back, though with out much progress. Both Fury and Strife were becoming restless with the slow pace. For Strife it was a bit more simpler to wield Mercy and Redemption, then again all one had to do was point and shoot. Strife gave his sister a cross look at the simple assumption stating it couldn't be all that hard to use a supercharged rope. War inwardly groaned at the two turning away from their bickering to rub at his forehead. This was a conversation he had heard too many times already in the past few weeks.
Flash back...
Fury looked to Strife when he snickered as she missed two of the pots sitting on the railing. War was watching them not saying a word as he took in their progress from the side. It was only a few days but there was still much improvement to be gained. He pinched the bridge of his nose sighing in frustration hoping the two wouldn't start arguing now of all time. He cursed the timing, wishing Azrael was here to help but knew the scholar was busy trying to find anything that may lead to discovering what their enemies might be up to.
"What?" Strife just looked at her flexing his fingers before reaching for Mercy.
Fury had to place her hands on her hips anchoring them so she didn't lash out at her lover. Bonded they may be but Strife still had a tendency to irritate her from time to time. And this time she was not in the mood for any smart ass remarks.
"Don't give me that look. I'm not the only one here having issues. The way your aim has been off you couldn't hit the broad side of an ashworm if it was right in front of you. Are your eyes failing you as well my dear Strife?"(2)
End flashback...
"How in creations name did Death deal with all of this?" Azrael gave him a pointed look placing his hands back into the sleeves of his robes. War blinked not sure what that look was for.
"To quote your brother from a time in his company in the White City regarding you and your sibling: Older siblings are born first to protect the younger ones, even if they refuse or do not want the assistance. (3)Death cared not for your tempers or grievance towards him that any of you had when your safety was on the line. " All three of them turned to Azrael looks of surprise on their faces. He just shrugged mentioning that Death had visited him a few times after the Abomination fiasco to speak with him, of course it was mostly dealing with War and the near loss of the young rider.
"And what exactly did he say?" Strife stretched on the rock enjoying the feel of his joints popping. He watched Azrael turn to him, his face serious.
"That is not for me to discuss. If you want to know then I suggest you stop lagging about so we can get a move on." Removing his hands from the sleeves he tossed the two another vial of the mixture Muria had brewed for them. Fury just uncorked the small bottle downing the mixture before throwing it by Strife's feet. It was helping them but again at a pace to no one's liking.
"Why the hell is this taking so long? You would think now that we're back to normal the effects would have worn off." Strife mimicked Fury's action but instead tossed the vial high up in the air into the branches. In one quick motion he fired Mercy followed by the sound of glass shattering a grin already spreading on his face. Azrael couldn't help but shake his head sighing at their logic.
"This is the realm of the Makers, older than the Charred Council. They have no ruling here..."
"No power to grant us. Death did mention that the power given to him by the Council was somehow sealed when he was sent here." War thought back now to the conversation he had with his brother and to wondering if that was the case, even if there was a cure to be found, why bring them here in the first place.
"Death knew the risks and so should any who enter this realm. Be it angel, demon or Rider there is a magic here that effects any and all. Here Creation is born and molded, the foundation of many worlds and races. I am sure even the Crowfather would relish in finding the secrets kept here." The two just looked at the scholar not sure what he was getting at.
"Neither Heaven or Hell have any reign here. Their power, their laws are meaningless." War finished what Azrael was thinking, the angel nodding in agreement. "But that does not mean even the Makers are held without responsibilities or above the laws that govern Creation. Belisatra has proven that. And now with Corruption, she warps and defiles all that is touched."
"War." Fury was by his side almost placing a hand on his shoulder but at the last moment closed her hand remembering that was where the bond mark was. He smiled at her kindness clasping her hand in his.
"It's still silent on his end?" All three turned to look at Strife. He was busy cleaning Redemption an even deeper scowl on his face. Just because he acted like a smart ass didn't mean he couldn't see what was happening. He knew all too well the worry when one's bonded was cut off: be it from blocking it, pain or well he didn't want to ever experience the last part. To see War act like nothing was wrong when who in creation knew what was happening to Death. Not to mention all Agony had done to help them. Their sister didn't deserve to get dragged into this mess.
"Fucking bastards! No one and I mean no one but us has a right to irritate that arrogant bastard! He's OUR brother. We all know how it goes." Strife turned to his siblings smiling at the same looks they had on both their faces. Fury shivered at the anger rolling off Strife. Her fingers started to twitch closing tightly around the base of her weapon. War noticed the sudden changed in the others, the flare of hostility and rage beginning to course through them. About to step forward a sudden pain tore through his entire being. It felt as if his body was being pulled in every direction, needle like claws ripping into his gut until everything was enveloped in darkness.
War groaned getting up onto his knees. Shaking his head to clear it, War noticed he was alone in the darkness. Looking around the open area he noticed a small flicker of light a few feet away. The closer he walked to it the brighter it became until it blinded him. When he noticed the light fading he lowered his arm but seriously wish he hadn't. War now noticed he was in a strangely lite cave. Looking around he noticed it was sparsely furnished with some bookcases and two tables, one with tools scattered on the surface the other a metal slab off to the side. But it was there in the center of the cave that had him quaking with rage.
Death's arms were tightly chained together over his head, hanging over the stained carved floor, his body bloody and beaten parts of it covered in those damnable crystals. His stomach lurched at the figure standing before his brother, battle ax posed at his left side. With the flat side of the blade Absalom slammed his weapon onto Death's leg. The crack could be heard echoing in the cave and yet their was hardly any movement of the bound body save for the force caused by said action. Death's body swayed back and forth twisting a bit and yet there wasn't even a grunt of pain from him. War watched as the looming figure spat onto his brother's swinging body before turning his back to him. Belisatra entered the room wiping at some substance covering her hands. She looked between Death and Absalom, grinning at the carnage.
"Still no luck?" She tossed the rag onto her workbench pulling her chair once more closer to Death. His blood boiled as the Maker reached over touching the damaged limb. He wanted to grasp that hand and break every finger that dared touch his brother.
"I've tried everything from trying to warp his memories to even implant new ones masquerading as the other riders even. The spells are having no effect what so ever." Absalom's voice was not what War remembered it to be. He gritted his teeth knowing the Chancellor's was there in the former leader of the Nephilim. He watched as the body stumbled towards what looked like a crystal coffin. Absalom's body once more submerged into the prison as the Chancellor emerged from it.
"And how was you time spent with our other guest? Enjoy yourself?" The Chancellor grinned at the look she was giving him. He watched as the metal table was once more summoned from the side of the room and Death was lowered onto it. Belisatra untied Death's hands only to pin his arms onto the table once more.
Taking a chance, War walked close to the two, finally able to see the true extension of his brother's injury's. He watched as the Maker cut into the flesh with long needles that locked the skin onto the table. Death's face was laced with cuts and the left side of his face, the part that was hidden by his hair when he was suspended up in the air, was peeled back until it showed the inside of his mouth. The teeth and gums were clearly visible and at times War could see the tongue move slightly in between. Belisatra moved the hair away from Death's face examining the small patch of crystals forming around the eye. Above it the skin was pulled back revealing the bone beneath with a chunk of bone missing allowing the brain matter to show through. War lashed out at the hand gripping his brother's face. His eyes widen when his went right through the Makers. Pulling back, this time at a slower rate, he moved his hand right through Belisatra's face.
"Tell me this is some sort of nightmare? What the hell are they trying to do?" War didn't know if he wanted to stay and see it through or try and wake up from the horror he was witnessing. Try as he might he was rooted on the spot watching helplessly as his bonded was tormented to no end. Knowing that it was useless War was ready to rush at Belisatra when a strange feeling made him turn around. It almost felt like a tug of a rope around his midsection, trying to lead him to a cave behind Death.
* Go. *
Startled, War looked back at Death his voice still echoing in his mind. Taking a step back, than an other he continued to look until his back hit the wall. He walked to the edge of the entrance and with a final breath turned to enter the new room. This room was no better than the one he was in before. War had to actually cover his mouth at the smell emanating from every inch of the place. There chained to the walls were rotting corpses; some only having half their bodies while their entrails or limbs came close to scraping the floor. Creatures peeked through holes and the gashing sounds of their teeth gnawing on the decayed bodies reached his ears. One body was withering on the floor hands hooked to the wall and feet nailed to the ground. The creature, whatever it once was only slightly humanoid in body, was laying in a pool of it's own blood from the gaping hole in its stomach. War could see some sort of insect peeking out through the flimsy skin. He wondered how the creature was staying silent when it's head moved away from its shoulder. War stepped back from the thrashing body, blood squirting from the missing jaw and throat. Out of the long tube leading to the chest, slithered out hell's version of a centipede.
"Brother?" Turning around so fast nearly gave War whiplash. There further down the wall pinned five feet above the ground was Agony. He sucked in the foul air at her condition. Every feather that wasn't littering the floor was spread out and pinned to the wall. The right side of her face was smeared with blood from the deep gash on her forehead. Her left arm was bent at an odd angle where the cuff was digging into the flesh of her forearm. Her feet were bared and he could clearly see they were broken, each toe twisted in opposite direction of the next one. Her tunic was slashed in obvious places that showed where the chains were holding her up.
"So...ssorry for taking...mph so long." She grimaced at the pain trying to focus on the conversation. War reached out to her, even knowing what would happen. He was surprised that his hand was able to touch her face, feeling the damp cold skin.
"What are you speaking of, what has happened?" He felt himself calm as she smiled, feeling her body relax under his touch.
"It's much the same when Absalom found us in the dungeons in hell. I was able to use the pain to increase my abilities, allowing you to find us but I'm afraid only through this way. I'm not sure how Death was able to achieve this but somehow he did." She sighed resting her head against his palm.
"What are they planing? What is it they really want?" War held her face in both his hands trying to wipe away the blood. He hissed through clenched teeth, seeing the wound much clearer. The skin was already infected, the edges around it browning with a crust of dried pus where it still bled.
"They seem...to want a repeat of the Abomination. But instead, instead of the Ravaiim they want to use the Nephilim. They already collected souls from the kingdom of the dead. I don't know how or where they retrieved our brethren bodies from but..." she winced trying to keep the connection going.
"Pace yourself Agony. Do not rush this." But all she did was shake her head a sob escaping her mouth.
"It can't happen again War. They want me to heal the bodies and Death to infuse the new souls in them, so they can have fresh materials. So far they have been using Death and myself for the base of this weapon. But now he's halted their plan by shielding his soul." Her voice cracked as she rushed to tell him everything that had happened so far in their imprisonment. War waited moving his hand to the back of her neck trying to help sooth her.
"Forgive me for what you two have suffered through. If I could I would be searching for you myself but Fury and Strife needed me." She looked at him with worried eyes her body going completely still.
"Besides their strength returning to them at a much slower rate they are well." He watched as her face went to relief to confusion to hopeful. She sighed taking in a few breaths before looking back at him eyes full of determination.
"In the library you'll find a book on our kind, the twin to the one Death has. It has everything from potions to aliments, Muria will know what to do." War blinked as his vision began to fade. All he could do was try and hold on to Agony, watching her only smile at him. She closed her eyes face going lax in his grip. He was pulled away turned around to face an all too familiar person.
"Death!?" His brother was standing before him in a transparent state. His body would constantly flicker but his smile was always there. He moved closer to War wrapping his arms around him. War could feel the smile against his neck, the warmth of the breath ghosting against his skin.
War returned the hug, clutching Death to him. This felt far worse then the time his brother left him in the world the Dream Drought sent them. Here he knew his brother and Agony were being harmed, used in insane experiments and other twisted schemes. True to his words if it wasn't for Strife and Fury he would for go the danger and track them down. He felt Death start to pull away his body even more lucid then before.
"Remember, bide your time War. We will see each other." Death cupped the side of his face as everything once more faded into nothing.
"Yes, of that we will."
"WAR! WAR! Come on damn it! Snap out of it!" Strife was trying everything to rouse their brother from his slumber. All three of them felt their hearts stop the moment War collapsed to the ground after Strife's little outburst. Fury placed his head on her lap pulling the hood away from his face. Nothing seemed to be wrong, his face showing no sign's of distress. Azrael sat to his right checking for any signs of magic at work while Strife applied his usual manner of care: slapping War across the face.
"Hit me once more and we shall see who will be in need of dire attention." War's pale eyes blinked open scrunching at the noon sun. Fury was the first to sigh in relief before smacking him on his chest scolding him for giving them such a scare. Strife and Azrael just laughed at the lecture War was receiving. Rolling his eyes, War sat up rubbing at his head his hand moving down to touch his neck, the same place Death had kissed him.
"War, what is it?" Fury turned him around looking at the sharp look entering his eyes.
"Death and Agony. Thy called to me, told me of what is happening." All three sucked in a sharp breath at the news, looks of relief, pain and anxiety all mixed in to one. Before they could bombard him with questions he told them what he encountered. Each one showed different reaction at his story.
Fury cursed at the mention of the torment Belisatra was conducting on their older siblings. Strife's eye would constantly twitch at the Chancellor's name along with the mention of the enemy's ability to possess the bodies of their departed brethren. Even Azrael looked ill at all that was mentioned. The only good news was the book Agony had mention. Wasting no time, the group made their way back to Tri-stone to begin their search more determined then ever to put an end to this nightmare.
End ch 10
Holly molly that took forever. Sorry about that but I'm not usually one for torture fics. I tried my best to get a feel for it (even watched a few movies to get some ideas...never doing that again.) I hope it was ok. Seems this fic is close to an end as well, a few more chapters and that's all. I want to thank everyone who has enjoyed this piece of writing and thank you all for the encouragement. It means a great deal to me.
1. Got the idea when my sister and I were watching Hocus Pocus. Changed the description a bit wanted to make it seem creepier.
2. Even Fury and Strife have their off days. Can't really blame them after everything that has happen. ^^;
3. Got this quote from reading Bleach vol 1. I tweaked it a bit but the meaning is the same. In the Manga it says; Big brothers, you know why they're born first? To protect the little ones who come after them. Even when Death showed his 'tough love' to each of them (well mostly War it seems) we all know he would give his all for his siblings.