A Blaze In The Northern Sky
By Trollhammer
Disclaimer: I own nothing yada yada yada…apart from Bolthorn. He's MINE! ALL MINE! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!
Chapter 11! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Also, for all you fans of great British comedy out there, keep an eye out for the Blackadder references.
Now…ON WITH THE SHOW!
The Interrogation
A few hours later...
There was much excitement around the breakfast table, and it wasn't just because Bolthorn was dishing up breakfast. After the rest of the Titans had gathered, minus Beast Boy, there was much discussion about the young changeling. Initially, there was much concern and sympathy for his situation...and how it wasn't the first time he had had to endure the feeling of heartache. But then an idea struck Bolthorn, and after discussing it with the rest of the table, there was a feeling of electricity in the air. Although there were some feelings of doubt, they were quenched by the excitement...as well as the aromas from the various pots and pans that Bolthorn and Cyborg laid before them. Beast Boy's breakfast was kept in a warm pan and placed in the oven, which was still warm. As the collective Titans East and West gorged themselves on Bolthorn's cooking, they enjoyed the one thing that most of the Titans never had the chance to savour: silence. After everyone had eaten their fill, they leaned back in their chairs, letting out collective groans of fulfilment.
"Oh mi buen dios!" Mas and Menos moaned in unison "Vamos a morir! Nos han alimentado a la muerte!"
"Yeah, where'd you learn to cook so good?" Speedy groaned happily.
"From me dear old mum, the Gods rest 'er soul." he smiled, staring up at the heavens, pounding his fist across his heart as a sign of respect.
Just then, Beast Boy stumbled into the room, his hair a mattered mess, eyes half closed. The welcome silence that once graced the room had been replaced by one of suspense.
"Morning friend Beast Boy." Starfire said hopefully.
"Your breakfast's in the oven." Robin spoke up.
Beast Boy glanced over everyone at the table, his gaze stopping upon Bolthorn and Raven. He bitterly bit his lip and threw them a death glance.
"I'm not hungry." he said stubbornly.
He walked over to the TV, set up the Gamestation and angrily plopped himself down on the couch. The Titans sighed in frustration; this was going to take longer than they had hoped for. Robin stood up from the table and cleared his throat.
"Okay Titans, as you all know, the police managed to detain one of Brother Blood's surviving followers. They've been trying to interrogate him, but he's not talking. I'm heading down to the station to see if I can do any..."
"'Ave 'im released into our custody. Let me 'ave a word with 'im."
The Titans stared at him for a few seconds.
"You sure about this?" asked Cyborg.
"You know how dangerous cultists are...especially fanatical ones." Raven warned.
Bolthorn gave her a reassuring smile and squeeze of the hand, before looking back up at the rest of the team.
"Trust me, I can crack this nut."
"And what makes you so sure?" Beast Boy asked bitterly.
Bolthorn's expression became familiarly dark.
"Let's just say I 'ave a special talent for...enflaming a guilty conscience." he said in a very sinister voice, before standing up, "I'll need some time to prepare. I'll be in the basement. Bring 'im there."
With that, he excused himself from the table and left the room.
"Okay," Robin spoke up, "Cyborg, you take me to the station to escort the prisoner. Speedy, Aqualad, you come along for back up. The rest of you keep an eye on things here."
With that being said, the Titans set about their appointed tasks. Just before Robin and his team left, Bolthorn ran back into the room.
"Almost forgot!" he said, throwing Robin a small brown glass bottle and a cloth, "Just in case he gets over-excited."
"What is it?"
"Chloroform."
Beast Boy sat at the kitchen table, munching bitterly on the breakfast Bolthorn had prepared for him. His pride told him to throw his food into the bin and wash the taste out of his mouth. But his growling stomach told him otherwise. Besides, one thing he couldn't deny was that Bolthorn was, by far, a much better cook than he was. He took a sip of his coke...a tip of advice Bolthorn had given him the night before on how to combat a hangover; since coke contains a hefty amount of sugar, it helps to replenish the body's glucose levels. Unfortunately, he hadn't taken his other precaution of drinking a pint of water before he went to bed, so that it would flush a good amount of the alcohol out of his system. Just then, Raven came into the room…her scent was unmistakable to him. He felt himself go tense when he heard her approaching footsteps. She took a seat beside him, turning the chair so that she could face him, although her hood was up.
"Hi." she said monotonously.
There was a tense pause before Beast Boy sighed.
"Hey." he said, mimicking Raven's tone.
Another long silence. Now it was Raven's turn to sigh.
"Look, Beast Boy…I'm sorry…"
"Save it, Raven." he said bitterly.
Raven grabbed Beast Boy by his shirt and forced him to look at her. Beast Boy gulped nervously when he came face-to-face with Raven's bared teeth.
"Listen to me Beast Boy, just actually LISTEN to me, and maybe this will FINALLY sink through your thick skull! Yes, Bolthorn and I love each other, but that doesn't mean we don't feel any remorse about how you feel right now! We never wanted to hurt you! We never wanted to hurt anyone! Bolthorn won't stop blaming himself for how you feel!"
"But it's his fault!" he yelled back, "He took away the last chance I had at true happiness…the one thing that keeps me going every day! All I've ever tried to do was make you happy! Make you SMILE! Because I CARED! Because I wanted to make you feel wanted…make you feel special…because you are special Raven. You're special to me. You're the ONE person that I love more than anything else in the world." he looked away from Raven, trying to hold back his tears, "…and just like that, he took you away from me…and you let him without a second thought about me."
Now it was Raven's turn to feel hurt. She lowered her hood and gazed back at him with an expression of hurt.
"That's…not true Beast Boy." was all she could manage to say.
"AHA! See? You hesitated!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at her.
Raven stood abruptly from her chair.
"Okay! Maybe I acted out of lust, but I AM half human Beast Boy! I'm not perfect!"
Beast Boy looked up at her sadly, running his hands over hers.
"You always were perfect to me."
Raven felt her heart ache when she looked into his eyes, and she softly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting him sob into her stomach, while he wrapped his arms tightly around her back, holding onto her for dear life.
"I feel so alone." he sobbed bitterly.
Raven felt the urge to cry, but suppressed it. She delicately ran her fingers through Beast Boy's hair, letting him cry out all of his anger and frustration. Raven knew how he felt…she knew what it was like to feel alone. It was something she wouldn't wish upon anyone.
"Beast Boy…you're not alone. You have us. We're your friends…we're your family. We'll always be here for you. We love you…I'll always love you as a friend."
He looked up at her with teary eyes.
"But I always hoped for more than just…friendship."
Raven sighed.
"I'm sorry Beast Boy…but we can never be. As much as it hurts me to say it, which it DOES, I've found happiness with Bolthorn. But we and the team were talking at breakfast this morning, before you came downstairs, and Bolthorn's had an idea…"
Beast Boy broke away from her, standing up, cutting her off.
"Oh yeah, great and wonderful Bolthorn comes to save the day again! Well I'm not buying it Raven! I don't want his pity! So you can tell Bolthorn from me that he can take his idea and SHOVE IT!"
With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Raven alone. She sighed heavily, sitting back down in her chair. She gazed out at the bright, late morning sky, gazing with wonderment at a flock of seagulls as they flew over the tower. She sighed again, wishing she could just fly away right now. Just then that all too familiar nine-noted tone sounded. Raven pulled her communicator from her belt and flipped it open. Robin's face appeared on the screen.
"Raven, we're back. Meet us at the entrance to the basement with everyone else."
"Understood. Raven out."
With that, she pocketed her communicator and made her way out of the room. She met up with everyone else at the entrance to the basement, all of them shifting uncomfortably. Over Cyborg's shoulder was the unconscious cult follower. Finally, the door slid open and Bolthorn emerged from the darkness.
"Oh good, ya've got 'im."
He motioned for Cyborg to hand him over. As Cyborg held him out, Bolthorn took the weight on his shoulder, moaning in the process.
"Ooh ya bugger ya!"
He looked at each of the Titans.
"Whatever you do, under no circumstances whatsoever, don't open this door. I don't want to…break the atmosphere. Stay in the dark, don't let him see you."
"Just don't do any permanent damage to him." Robin warned.
Bolthorn pouted.
"You're no fun anymore." he teased before vanishing into the darkness, the Titans following him down into the basement, closing the door behind them.
The cult follower slowly awoke from his chloroform-induced state of sleep. He tried to move, only to find himself bound to a chair. He looked around, feeling frightened, only to find himself surrounded by blackness. There was a small light shining above his head, and a small table in front of him, with an empty chair at the far end. He was cold…very cold. The silence was almost deafening. He tried desperately to struggle from his bonds, only to feel his flesh being pricked and torn into through his cowl.
"Don't bother." Bolthorn's voice came from nowhere, "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've tied you up with barbed wire. That'll cut through yer skin like an 'ot knife through butter."
With that said, Bolthorn slowly emerged from the darkness behind the opposing chair, a long shadow hanging over his face, although the grinning skull of his bandana shined brilliantly, as if it were mocking his captive. He slowly walked around to the side of the table, and pulled a knife out from under his leather trench coat.
"What's your name?" Bolthorn asked, suspiciously casual.
The cultist looked at him nervously.
"W…we have no names in the Church of Blood."
"Aye, of course you don't." Bolthorn retorted sarcastically.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out…an onion.
"Well, for the sake of this conversation, I'm gonna call you…ooh I dunno…Bob."
With that said, Bolthorn proceeded to carve into the onion. The cultist…or 'Bob' as Bolthorn had designated him, looked on confused and slightly flabbergasted by the scene before him. What made him even more uncomfortable, was that as Bolthorn was carving away, not once did he even so much as glance at him. 'Bob' also felt his eyes begin to sting as the powerful scent of onion assaulted his senses, clinging rebelliously to his nostrils, as a small pool of discarded onion peelings grew around Bolthorn's boots. When Bolthorn finally turned to face him, he'd carved the onion into the form of…a small man. He planted it gently on the table in front of 'Bob', and placed the knife back under his coat.
"That's you."
He then turned away from him again, reaching into his pocket. He produced…his rolling tobacco and lighter. He slowly rolled himself a cigarette, again, seemingly not acknowledging 'Bob's' presence. After a few more moments of tense silence, Bolthorn sparked up his cigarette and pocketed his lighter. He took a long drag from it and removed it from his lips. He inhaled deeply, and blew out a small cloud of intoxicating fumes. He finally turned his menacing gaze to his captive, leaning against the table.
"Do you know much about Voodoo?" he asked sinisterly.
'Bob' just looked at him.
"It's a fascinating practice, it really is." he carried on, "No real doctrine of faith, more of a collective of…superstitions. The most well known of which…" he turned and extended his arm to his carving, "…is the Voodoo doll."
He stood up straight and slowly paced around the table, in full view of 'Bob'.
"A mock-up of an individual is subjected to various forms of physical assault, the desired result being that the actual person feels those affects."
He stopped and glared at 'Bob' with malicious intent, taking another long drag from his cigarette. 'Bob' felt cold sweat forming on his brow under the gaze of Bolthorn's punishing eyes. Suddenly, Bolthorn lifted his fist above his head, and brought it down full force, crushing his carved 'Voodoo doll' into oblivion, making 'Bob' jump nervously in his seat.
"Personally I don't believe in Voodoo." Bolthorn said nonchalantly, walking around the table again, during which time 'Bob' let out a sigh of relief that could have been heard in Australia, "But I DO believe in using other methods torture for purposes of…" he paused deliberately to take a drag from his cigarette, "...extraction." he said, mere inches from his face.
"Extraction?"
"Brother Blood was planning something big. I know that because I know him. He would NEVER come out of hiding unless he had something huge planned…" he leaned over 'Bob', casting a long shadow over him, "…and you're gonna tell me what it is."
"Never! If I were to betray Brother Blood I would suffer eternal damnation!"
Bolthorn sighed and nodded before looking back at his captive, leaning in closer to him, rummaging through his pocket.
"Bob, let me put it to you this way: an eternity in the company of...whatever your version of the devil is...and all of his horrific implements of torture and death..." his face became twisted with anger, "...will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me...and this pencil."
He lifted a sharpened pencil dangerously close to 'Bob's' eye. 'Bob's' breathing quickened and sweat fell from his brow as his eyes darted between Bolthorn and the pencil in his hand.
"You...you wouldn't...!"
"Really?" Bolthorn asked menacingly, inching the pencil closer to his eye, "Bet yer life?"
'Bob' tried desperately to inch away from Bolthorn and shut his eyes, only to have Bolthorn punch him in the face, then force him to face him. To make things worse, not only did he use his strong left hand to force his eye open, but he also pushed his head right the way back, while kneeling on his crotch. Again, Bolthorn inched the pencil uncomfortably close to his eye…closer…closer…the tip of the pencil finally pressed against the cornea, making him scream in pain.
"I can make this much, much worse." Bolthorn warned him.
'Bob' began to sob pathetically.
"The bloodline! He means to strengthen the bloodline! Fulfil his true nature, fulfil the destiny of the child of the Eighth Devil! Together, they will cleanse the earth of the non-believers and the unworthy! The Book knows! The Book knows all!" he sobbed.
"What book?"
"Our sacred book. YOU shall never see it, non-believer!" he spat.
Bolthorn grinned, reaching behind him.
"You mean…this book?" he mocked, producing a book bound in tattered red leather.
'Bob' then began to struggle violently, despite the fact that the barbed wire that bound him began to saw through his flesh, screaming in protest of Bolthorn's possession of the unholy scripture.
"Oh shut it!" Bolthorn shouted out, delivering a well-aimed left fist into 'Bob's' face.
'Bob' fell over backwards in his chair, unconscious before he hit the ground. Bolthorn shook his hand and walked away, but not before throwing his cigarette at his prone figure to add insult to injury.
"Wanker." he spat, walking away.
The Titans all looked on, suddenly feeling afraid of Bolthorn. He was just as blatantly sadistic towards his enemies away from battle as well as in the thick of it. Beast Boy looked up at Aqualad.
"Like I said all along dude: Total. Whacked out. Psycho."
As Bolthorn made his way up the stairs, the rest of the Titans followed, but not before Cyborg had locked the unconscious 'Bob' away in a crate in the corner. They stopped outside the door as Bolthorn glanced over the cover of the book.
"Uh...How did you get that?" asked Robin.
Bolthorn looked over at him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"This ain't the REAL Book of Blood, it's a forgery. I...acquired it during a job I were workin' about a year ago back home. I just wanted to see the look on 'is face when he thought I 'ad the real thing." he said laughing, before clearing his throat, "I found it buried underneath a concrete basement floor. Whoever were working on this DID NOT want it found. I'll need some time to look through this thing, try and get some idea of what he were ranting and raving on about back there..."
He was cut short by red flashing lights and the alarm sounding. The Titans quickly glanced at each other.
"Titans, GO!"
TBC
HEHEHEEEE! I love it when Bolthorn's naughty! So sorry this chapter was so short.Anyway, thanks for reading, and I'll get chapter 12 done ASAP.
Until next time.
Trollhammer.
METAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!
