(( Oh man, I can't believe I've written ten whole chapters of this, lmao... ))
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In desperation Fenrir tried to charge at her instead of pulling away, but every time he tried to she would wrench the chain with an inhuman strength, and send him smashing and crashing against the walls, ceiling and floor. After three or four of those, he wasn't putting up much of a fight anymore…
Clawing his nails at the floor the last steps of the way, he lost all semblance of his former 'humanity' and simply began to howl. Then Karen opened the door to the Demon Tree, and without another thought for him, she yanked the chain ferociously, with all her magically enhanced might, and his limp body was sent flying into the room.
After the very painful landing, he didn't look behind him. He instinctively tried to get up and run from what he knew was behind him. But, addled from hitting his head on the way down, he had barely made it to his feet before a black, leafless branch, sharp as a spear, impaled him through the middle of his chest. He gurgled the way his last victim had gurgled, blood coming out of his mouth, as several more thorny branches wrapped around his body, dragging it into the dead black hollow, wide and gaping and always starving.
Karen knew she had to act on the spot. She had to make her break for it while the tree was distracted with Fenrir, or else she would certainly be next on the menu…
So while the werewolf was being pulled into the void, a place of endless pain and darkness, Karen rushed into the room, using her magic to spell open a trap door in front of the tree. Though they were distracted, a few spare branches still tried to get to her, and almost made it too. But she jumped down into the pit below just in the nick of time, the branches swiping at where she used to be. They reached into the trap door after her, but the fall was too far for the branches to reach her.
For just a split second, Karen realized this was a really, really stupid idea. She had no idea how far the fall down was before she made the 'leap of faith', but thankfully her faith was rewarded, and the goddess slowed her fall and gently floated her to the ground the last few feet of the hundred or so that she had fallen.
The floor at the bottom was solid, but just barely. It was muddy, going halfway up her shoes every time she took a step. And every once in a while, she would step on something that would crunch or tree roots wouldn't go down that far, so presumably it could only be the discarded human bones of various victims... She tried not to think about it too much, though. At least they weren't trying to grab her...
It was the darkest room in the manor by far. Even with her light guiding her, she could barely see more than a few feet in front of her at any time. She trudged on, one slow, sticky step at a time, until she spotted a large box ahead of her. She knew instinctively, that it was what she had been looking for…
It was a plain stone box, with no markings, no inscription, no decorations of any kind. Not even any dead flowers. No Malfoy would literally be caught dead in such a tomb. It was clear, whoever this person was, the Malfoys had hated him deeply. So, unfortunately, that probably meant that he was at least a half-decent or possibly even a good person…
Hesitating just a second, she put her hands on the lid of the box. But before she even tried to make it budge, a voice whispered to her from within it. "Pure hearted fool… I'll rip that heart right from your chest if you're stupid enough to free me…"
Yes, most likely a good person. He wouldn't have warned her if he wasn't…
She did stop, though. "…You've been down here such an awful long time. You probably haven't spoken to another human being since you were imprisoned here, have you?"
"…You're even stupider than I thought. I'm a vampire. I haven't spoken to 'another human being' since before I was turned…" He muttered back to her incredulously. "But yes, you are the first being I've spoken to in all the ages I've been trapped here… Your voice… It's melodious, but… It's also really annoying! You're making me gnaw with hunger! Stupid mortal! Either leave me or feed me! I don't have the strength to open this crypt but I swear if you do, I will tear you apart and feast on every inch of you! I'll bite you all over!" By this point, he sounded more comically desperate than anything. He really didn't want to hurt her… This was clearly not someone who had chosen to become a vampire. This was not someone who had ever sought out to feast on their fellow man. "So just leave me already, or I swear I'll kill you!"
"…I don't think you will." She finally mumbled, deep in thought.
"…And what makes you think something as nonsensical as that." He deadpanned back at her.
Smoothing her hands over the coffin, his history, his past, and his most important memories in life, played before her mind. He… Wasn't even a man. He was seventeen when he had been changed, against his will. He was a Malfoy. They had been ashamed of him, so they trapped him down here, where he could never shame them or the family name again, and where he could be of some use to the family by powering the manor. And they had delighted in doing it to him, because his good heart had long been an embarrassment to their budding dark reputation…
Finally, she whispered back to him. "…Because. I can give you something much more tempting than my flesh or blood. Even more tempting than your freedom…"
Struck silent, the vampire listened for her next words, hardly able to believe them even before he had heard them. But it was the goddess speaking now, so he had to believe her, at least. "Adrien… I can give you back your soul."
No vampire in history had ever even dreamed of it, let alone realized it.
"…Oh, poor lamb…" He finally cooed back to her, as if he pitied her. Not the goddess of course, but the human vessel carrying her. "Do you even have any idea what will happen if you do that? Do you even have any idea what that immortal has already done to you…?"
Well, now she did…
"It doesn't matter…" Karen answered, scared but resolute. "Will you accept this deal or not?"
"…You'll never get out the same way you came in…" The ancient Malfoy mused. "But… I suppose if you're willing to take all the risks, it would be ungrateful not to let you finish what you came here to do. So… Yes. I accept."
Hecate wasted no more time. The poor boy had already been down there more than long enough, after all.
Using magic, the stone lid to his tomb was tossed aside like a mere pebble, and even in the eternal and all-enveloping darkness, she could see his face. Pale and youthful, but with blind eyes. And not from the dark. He had been blinded in life, before the transformation. Otherwise the vampirism would have heightened his eyesight. The condition could not, however, bring back what had already passed into the world of the dead.
They had been able to torture him like that… Because it was his magic that not only protected the inhabitants of the house from outsiders, but that which protected them from themselves. He didn't want anyone else born to his family to go through what he had gone through. All this time that he had suffered, he had done so telling himself there was a purpose to it. If he hadn't, he would have long gone insane…
Though blind, his milky eyes focused on her. He grimaced, his facial muscles tense. His hands tried to grab at her of their own accord, but then at the last second, just before his fingers were about to grab her hair to drag her down, he stopped himself. Through an astounding display of will and self-control, he forced his shaking hands to return to his form, grabbing his own throat and stomach instead.
"The poor boy…" Karen sobbed at the sight of him. "Isn't there anything I can do for him…?"
Hecate supplied the answer in her mind. "You can only make it quicker for him…"
As soon as that thought popped into her mind, her eyes glanced down at the floor beside the tomb and found the ancient iron stake and hammer, left there hundreds of years ago by the people who had imprisoned him there. Hesitating only briefly, she bent down and picked it up.
She knew that he was hurting, more than most people would ever know. But she had to say something to him before she did what she had to. "You… You were very brave! I owe you my life! Thank you! And, I'm sorry-!"
Mustering up all that she had within her, she lined up the heavy iron stake just above his heart, and then, she brought the hammer down upon it decisively, ending his misery in one fell swoop.
It was over in an instant for him, and a feint wisp of light was carried on the last exhale of his body. It kept rising, bound for the sky and beyond.
But she wasn't out of the woods yet.
When she had pierced his heart, she jumped back in alarm, as a horrible and painfully loud 'shriek', like a violin being played by a sadomasochist, filled her ears from all directions. It was the tree. Without the boy there acting as its battery, it was quickly dying…
It seemed she had bigger worries, however. As soon as she had pierced his heart, a thick liquid, a greenish-reddish-brownish-black in color, began to seep from the wound. With each second more and more of the nastiness pooled out, more than one would ever think it possible for a single body to contain, and it wouldn't stop.
The coffin became full in seconds, and then it began to overflow. The muck seemed to increase exponentially, and soon the stream of noxious fluid became like a rushing river. A shot of dread seized her heart as the disgusting sticky liquid soon covered her feet, and didn't stop rising.
She was just starting to panic, realizing that she wouldn't be able to swim in the syrupy sickness, and that she might possibly drown in it, choke on it – Until suddenly, a loud crackling noise sounded off from directly above her, and only a few feet from where she stood, a long, limp root fell down. The tree was dead. It was starting to wither.
Acting fast, she waded over to the shriveling tree root, and began to climb it. The viscous liquid continued to rise, following her as she ascended as fast as she could. Sometimes it seemed as if the sea of darkness was even trying to swipe at her feet, but she didn't dare look down to confirm it. In her head, she refused to let any other thought enter her mind except for the mantra that kept her going. 'Just keep moving forward. Keep moving forward. Keep moving-!'
When she reached the top, she jumped to the nearby trap door, still open. She barely managed to catch hold of the edges, madly clawing her way up and out of it.
At that point, Wildwing was just arriving at that final door. Karen saw him, and began to run for him, while the tar-like substance shot up from the final basement, following her in the form of a treacherous, sentient wave, hell-bent on drowning her in the darkness that had followed her all her life...
She held her hand out for him to take. She thought, if she could just make it to him, if he would just take her hand, they would make it out of here…
But that's not what Wildwing saw, because to him, it wasn't Karen who was running after him. Karen believed herself to be, and saw herself as, a glowing figure of light. But the reality was, she was seeing through the smallest part of her, her good and pure soul. To even be able to enter this last room, one had to be a being of pure darkness. Even Lucius had never been able to enter this final room, it had only been occupied by the likes of Greyback and Voldemort himself. In order to let her enter and do what she had to do, Hecate had secretly been forced to corrupt her entire body.
The essence of Karen's spirit was where she had been residing since she entered the last room. Like a single speck of gold in a body-shaped charcoal prison.
So imagine how Wildwing felt initially, when instead of Karen, a creature like a featureless mannequin made of coal clawed its way out of a hole in the floor, followed by a tidal wave of tar. Stretching out a hand for him as it ran straight for him…
A testament to his courage, he refused to abandon his brother's love, and put his puck shooter up to nail the creature instead of turning heel and running from the monstrosity, as the vast majority of sane people would do.
He lined up the scope at the head. He put the settings at 'kill' instead of 'stun'…
The creature opened its toothless black mouth. But instead of some hellish shriek or roar, as Wildwing was expecting, Karen's voice emerged. Hollow and echoing, but unmistakably hers and hers alone. "Wildwing, please, help me! Take my hand-!"
He hesitated only the briefest fraction of a second, before throwing the weapon aside, and thrusting his hand out for her to take. He somehow just felt that he couldn't enter past the threshold even if he wanted to, but he waited in his spot for her to make it to him, no matter how much he wanted to bolt from the sea of sickness following her.
She reached him, grabbed his hand, their fingers meeting at the doorframe. He pulled her over the threshold, and as he did, like actual charcoal, the blackness her body was made of crumbled away, revealing the golden spirit within. But for her hand, her form was, for that second, nothing but a specter. Only the hand that Wildwing had grabbed retained its solid form, and like Wildwing's feathered hand, it was pure white.
In fact, his pure white color seemed to spread all over her body as he pulled her over to him, but he didn't get to get a very good look at her, before the sticky darkness washed over the both of them, enveloped them, blotting out even the Mask's famous vision.
He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to either. Getting this sickness in his lungs was less preferable that simply holding his breath until he died, which was what he was, for briefest second, prepared to do. He had no idea how they could possibly ever get out of this predicament, trapped and blinded in this inky ocean.
So, since he currently had no use for them, he couldn't find much reason to mind, except for morbid curiosity, when he felt her reach up, and take the Mask off of his face…
Only a second after she did so, he felt himself being jerked, and dragged, faster than humanly possible. Fast enough to run down all the corridors in seconds, fast enough to outrun the wave of darkness and even fast enough that what had stuck to their skin peeled off of them from the force of the wind rushing past them.
When they reached the stairs that led to the upper level, Karen finally let go of Wildwing's hand, tossing him to the side and turning back to face the upwards waterfall that was threatening to fall down on them and envelop everything. And not just everything in the house, but everything else it possibly could. With a mighty grunt, she pushed her hands down on the air in front of her, and the dark deluge was forced back down into the dungeons. In that instant, the tar-like substance was purified, and hardened, turning it into harmless earth.
Effectively, she had truly and finally buried all the family's skeletons. And, she thought with some satisfaction, she had taught her family the value of work ethic. After all, if they wanted their gold and riches now, they were going to have to dig for it…
But that thought only preoccupied her mind for but a moment. Then she noticed how the men around her were looking at her, in pure shock and disbelief. And it wasn't hard to guess why, once she realized that she was naked. And, as an afterthought, she realized it was probably also because, somehow, she was wearing Wildwing's Mask…
Nosedive was the first to finally find his voice. He had planned to welcome back his wife with open arms, congratulations, and kisses all over her face, but now he was frozen in place.
He could only manage to make his mouth move at first, and the rest just blurted out from him instinctively. "No… Fucking… WAY…"
And as Hecate finally released her and floated away to join the spirits she had collected, she whispered with much satisfaction, "I hope you enjoy your reward~"
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