Note: Good news guys! My plans for this work has changed and I will be extending the 'run-time' from 20 Chapters to 30 Chapters! This gives me more room to spread the story out to the form I envisioned... in comparison to my alternate version of this timeline 'The Other Option'... which is a much brighter and more loving story in contrast to this darker... grittier form... with takes much longer to write... and is much more difficult to write in the time I had given myself. Thank you for sticking with this story... for those who continue to read! Much love to you!
Chapter 11: Dismissal, Disposition
Following Mallory's uncomfortable and nearly disastrous encounter with Michael, the Demon Prince as she's decided to call him, she'd snuck back to the group and informed them about her encounter, specifically to confirm that he's showing no signs of suspicion towards them, instead, a slight form curiosity. The group's reaction was expected, with most of the group remaining to boast about their remaining advantage, while Percival and Myrtle remained in silence, each of them Michael and the other Warlocks like a couple of hawks, all while ensuring he and they don't notice, it appears somebody is studying the enemy or enemies in this case. It was only a matter of time before Mallory found herself conversing with the Demon Prince, but it took her off guard regardless, leaving her uneasy and slightly staggered, it's not because he scared her, no, not by any means, rather, the fact that she scared herself. How many times tonight is she going to think and seriously consider literally tearing that smug look off of his face? How many times is she going to consider butchering the Headmasters of Hawthorne? How many times is she going to consider putting the Coven at risk for her own selfish needs? She's not sure about that, but what she is, in fact, sure of, is that she needs to halt the selfish ideas, or else the ideas, are going to ultimately become an actuality.
"She is certainly taking her sweet time in the Office, no doubt those cunts are talking her ear off about the kid's potential."
"I agree with your words, dear, don't get me wrong, but if I that word comes out of your mouth again, I'll enchant your tongue," Myrtle warns, chuckling as she takes another sip of her wine. "I quite hate that word, it's so distasteful."
"My apologies, Miss Myrtle," Percival agrees.
"It's either that, or they're attempting to woo her into allowing the kid to perform the Seven Wonders, tonight," Queenie adds, happily breaking the ice.
"Unfortunate for them but fortunately for us, Cordelia isn't easy to propose to, not even you and I, who she sees as her daughters, can get her to submit to specific terms," Zoe says to Queenie with a smirk on her face. "They should feel lucky that Michael is performing the Seven Wonders tomorrow, rather than never."
"Never is preferred," Mallory censures.
"Patience, Miss Mallory, patience," Myrtle soothes. "You'll find that patience makes it all the more satisfying in the end, trust someone who waited years before ultimately deciding to murder Miss Robichaux's former Council."
"Sounds like that was quite the treat?"
"Oh, dear Mallory, you have no idea, it was only because of dear Misty that I was ever brought back in the first place, that I ever got the chance to exact vengeance on those lying fools, this is why dear Misty deserves to be brought back. If it is, indeed, possible."
"And as for Madison?" Kyle abruptly inquires. "Does she deserve to be brought back from Hell?"
"Regardless of your regrets, dear, empathetic Kyle, you will find that that question is completely and utterly controversial."
"There was quite literally only one way to say that, Myrtle-"
"And you knocked the response out of the park," Zoe agrees with Queenie.
"I'm sure that response will change once you see how much she has changed," Mallory states, looking back at the Madison in her timeline, that sweet, compassionate, loyal, yet tough, somewhat cold and gallant Madison, the woman she watched get decapitated by a sword. "At least, in theory."
"I just hope Miss Cordelia is done with those morons."
"Why's that? Do you have somewhere to be? If it's urgent, I'll simply let Miss Cordelia know that you had to depart?" Kyle proposes, getting a slight groan from Percival in response.
"No, it's not that, I- well, I'm concerned every second I'm in the walls of this Academy, I come closer and closer to marching up those stairs and ridding the world of-"
"Of what, dear Percival? Or shall I say whom, if it's a more accurate statement?" Ariel says, slithering around the corner with the snake he is. It's clear Ariel was eavesdropping, the question is, how long has he been listening? Or better yet, what has he heard? "Fancy seeing you working alongside Witches? You must be desperate for work, or the attention of others."
The idea causes Mallory's heart to sink to her abdomen, causing her to feel sick to her stomach, Kyle to stare angrily at the Warlock Headmaster, wishing he could wrap his hands around his scrawny neck, just as he did to John and Behold, to his regret. The sight of Ariel causes Zoe and Queenie to stand up and reenter a professional stance, just as expected of them, as much as they would rather save their professional appearance for someone who deserves it, their poor presentation will only hurt the Witches, not the Warlocks. Myrtle doesn't even move a muscle for the Warlocks, as expected, she couldn't give a shit. Percival slowly stands up from his seat, tucking it in before turning to face Ariel Augustus, his sworn enemy, the man that treated him like nothing, when he had nothing. This is sure to go sideways.
"The only thing I'm desperate for is some god damned quiet, you kinda' get accustomed to living a peaceful, quiet life," Percival replies in an attempt to knock the Warlock's suspicions off the course. "But what I was saying before you, Ariel curtly interrupted, was I going to head upstairs to serve myself to some well-desired quiet. As for working with the Witches of Miss Robichaux's, an unexpected associate for sure, but a welcomed one, it appears that life throws all sorts of wonderments at you."
"Working with Witches, I just can't wrap my head around the sight, because you, in fact, hate Witches, there must've been one hell of an offer for you to work with those you hate? This isn't like you, dear Percival," Ariel chuckles. "Not like you at all."
"That's the thing about you, Ariel, you don't know shit about me, only what you want to know, so why give you the satisfaction of knowing anything more about my life?" Percival growls, looking as if he's going to throw a fist at Ariel, something Kyle is egging on in his head. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to have another cigarette."
Without warning, he barges past the older Warlock, bumping Ariel's shoulder in the process, but their encounter is not over yet.
"You say I don't know you, Percival, but I know enough, specifically certain aspects of your life, aspects you'd rather keep from all spying eyes and prying ears."
His words cause Percival to tense up, fists clenching, causing a sickening snap of the knuckles, and his body slightly shaking from what could only be built in rage. Following the influx of rage, it's if the light of the room is being drained away, only for the light to slowly return as his fists fade to an open palm.
"I'm going warn you, Ariel, and I'm going to warn you once, do not go there," Percival warns, glaring back at the smirking Ariel with hateful eyes. "Not there, I can handle a lot of ridicule, but the moment you go there, into that dark zone, my patience will only go so far before my temper gets in the way of things."
"Oh come on, dear Percival, I was just scanning to see you still had iniquity inside of you, and by the impression on the lights, it's there, somewhither, but it is, in fact there."
"That will be enough, Ariel! Enough!" Baldwin interposes, not taking Ariel's side by any means, but he's not taking Percival's either, he's only doing what he feels is right; which happens to be leaving the young Percival alone, for the most obvious of reasons. He is one of few living souls that know Percival's horrific and terrifying potential, what he can and probably will do if pushed far enough, not only that, but he's one of the few that have witnessed it first hand and survived to tell the tale, an easily misunderstood feat. "We're here to discuss the ascension of our School, not to meddle with students or their associates."
"Of course, of course, I was just having a civil conversation with an old friend."
"Of course, well, the conversation is now over, yes?" Cordelia asks in a threatening tone. "I believe it's time for the exciting announcement."
"Yes! Of course! May I?" Ariel asks confidently, finding a reluctant nod from Cordelia, who takes a step back, allowing him to enjoy the spotlight, for now.
Before Ariel begins speaking, Percival watches as his brother and sister depart, his brother, Elliot, joining his Warlock brothers, while his sister, Astrid, joins her Witch sisters. Now that she's been separated from their brother, he'll be able to challenge her loyalties and report the results to the Supreme, regardless of the result, at least, that's what he's choosing to tell himself. In fact, he's doubtful if he'd be able to tell Cordelia of his sister's estranged loyalty, the thought makes him hope that won't be the case.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Witches and Warlocks, I am exalted to proclaim that tomorrow night, there will be a performance of the Seven Wonders by a great student of ours, Michael Langdon! I have no doubt in my mind that he'll be able to perform the task at hand flawlessly but until tomorrow night, I wish you all a wonderful and safe evening. Thank you for your hospitality, we look forward to conducting further business with the Academy. Goodnight to you all."
With a half-present round of applause from the girls of the Academy, Hawthorne begin to depart, lead by Ariel and Baldwin, followed by the students, with the very last student to leave the building being none other than Michael himself, who glances back at the group, specifically at Mallory, smiling and waving goodbye to her. Mallory, the group and the Witches themselves only dare speak once the doors are closed and locked down by Kyle and the Coven Personal Guard, after that, it's private again, and for everybody, it has become free reign, with Kyle immediately texting John and Behold, telling them they can leave the attic.
"Oh, oh God," Mallory gasps like she'd been holding her breath for hours, suddenly covering her face with her hands.
"What is it, Mallory? What's happened? Are you okay?" Zoe asks, placing her hand on Mallory's back before checking her temperature. "Miss Myrtle? Miss Cordelia? Can you come here, please? She's burning up and bad."
Myrtle Snow places her hand on Mallory's forehead before placing the same hand on her cheek, sensing into Mallory's emotions without her knowledge, giving Myrtle all the information she needs. "Yes, just as I suspected, Rager's Fever, a fever brought upon by horrific levels of vehement fury, affecting those who don't normally experience said levels of fury. I must ask you, dear Mallory, in order to confirm my suspicions; did you feel intense rage during your encounter with Michael? Did you feel sick during contact?"
"Killing him, it's all I could think about, stopping him right here, right now, I almost did too, but that would have ruined our only chance of getting Misty and Madison back, I didn't realise this was going to be this difficult, more than I could have imagined," Mallory reveals. "I've- I've never experienced such a need to kill before."
"I'm pretty sure that responded to your question, Miss Myrtle," Queenie confirms, sighing at the sight of Mallory's anguish, wishing she could do something to help, but understanding and experiencing the impacts of Rager's Fever first hand, she knows there's only one treatment for it.
"Rager's Fever indeed, it'll pass with some rest, we could all use some rest, once we have Madison and Misty back, we'll begin the training and planning for Michael Langdon's downfall. Everybody! Listen up! Training and planning begin after tomorrow night, so we should all accept every hour of sleep we can acquire, I won't lie to any of you, I love you all and difficult days lie ahead of us, all of us, anything can happen and probably will happen, but we will persevere, as we always have, together. We cannot be too confident with the conflict that is to come, we need to be vigilant and sudden when performing our tasks, we must hide in the shadows, but if we take too long, we may lose all over again, each day passes Michael finds himself stronger and stronger, perks of demon blood, I suppose. You're all dismissed, head up to your rooms and get comfortable until dinner, which will be at eight PM sharp, go on, girls, you deserve the downtime, but I will see you all at dinner."
"Thank you, Miss Cordelia," most of the girls' say before heading upstairs as John and Behold find themselves down the stairs, most of them muttering to one another about how tense the situation just was, among other teenage-like topics. This leaves Cordelia, her Council and the group downstairs, where they themselves can discuss the recent events that transpired, only beginning their discussion once John and Behold, who is scratching a spider web from his shirt, join them suitably.
"So, doesn't look like it went as well as we hoped?" John asks. "As long as Ariel, Baldwin and Michael are still alive, that's a victory, is it not?" His eyes then meet the distressed Mallory, who still breathes unevenly. "Perhaps not, is Miss Mallory okay?"
"I'm- I'm fine," Mallory says, breathing slowly in an attempt to calm her nerves.
"Yes, she'll be okay, she's currently under the toxic influence of Rager's Fever," Myrtle Snow briefly answers, her eyes and focus not leaving Mallory's side. "She needs rest and some water above all, which I will mix with some peace lily for a guaranteed peaceful rest, with her permission, of course. Once she's caught her breath and feels comfortable walking, Kyle and I will escort her to her room
"Yeah, it was intense, to say the very least," Queenie comments, feeling like she can breathe again now that they've found themselves some privacy. "Unfortunately you both missed some things, a lot of confrontation, a lot of awkward staring and a lot of gloating. To be honest with you two of you, I don't know what was more intense, Mallory's encounter with Michael-"
"Percival's encounter with Ariel?" Kyle asks, dismissing the other members of the Coven Personal Guard. "For the moment there, I thought you were going to tear him apart as you did Erron and his goons, unlike them, however, I would have enjoyed the display."
"Yes, I can imagine the intensity there," Behold remarks. "As well as the said display."
"That's pretty fucking bleak, Kyle," Zoe comments, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
"Bleak but honest, and you love honesty, right?" Kyle jests, winking and flirting at her in response, causing her to divulge her solemn look. "I get you every time."
"Yes, it was quite difficult stopping me from doing terrible, terrible things to that fucker," Percival sighs, staring at the staircase. "May I be excused for a moment, Miss Cordelia?"
"Yes, of course," Cordelia grants, watching as Percival disappears up the stairs, almost appearing in a hurry. "I wonder what he's up to."
"You'll be surprised to learn that he's already committing himself and his contracted duties to the Coven, in other words, he's working; questioning his sister, Astrid, and making sure that she hasn't told their brother anything of our plans," Zoe explains, she herself glancing at the staircase before looking at Cordelia. "That and he probably simply wants to speak to his sister, from what he told me, it's been a while since he's spoken to his family."
"Two years to be exact," John adds. "Last time he'd spoken to them, there was a conundrum in his family, caused by a loss, you could say. Ever since those events transpired, they haven't spoken, in fact, it was the most tragic event in his life, that caused the conundrum in the first place, a small portion of me wants to call the tragedy simply an accident, however, the rest knows the truth, that it was no accident at all. I've already said too much as it is, I just hope the interaction between Percival and his sister, doesn't end in a deeper conundrum."
Percival prowls through the lighted hallway of the Academy, every light, electric or candle dimming out in the radius of his presence as he passes by. His eyes linger forward, not daring to look into the mirrors or glass he lingers by, in fear of who he may see, or worse, what. Each of his steps become shorter and shorter, that fact alone, proof of his hesitation to see his own sister after so many years; after she and their brother, two of four family members he had left at the time, abandoned him for the last time. He showed up a vulnerable, frail and broken man, hoping to find some sort of malevolence in a single action, in a single moment, regardless of consequence, so he couldn't exactly blame them for abandoning him as if they always have, that wasn't going to change long before he did what he did. He arrived a broken man and left an insignificant umbra of the man he used to be, the thing he has accepted and remained ever since. That's when he reaches the door before knocking politely and waiting for the worst.
The door opens, revealing one of the young Witches that he'd noticed was googling at him while he sat with Mallory and Queenie, by the looks of her she's one of the most popular and respected among the Coven, however, below the likes of Zoe, Queenie and newcomer Mallory.
"Well, hello handsome, now why would the likes of someone who looks as yummy as you be coming to our dorm room, hmm?"
"May I speak to Miss Astrid Godwin, please?" Percival gently asks, his arms held behind his straight back, hearing giggling voices in the backdrop of the room suddenly go silent.
"Now do you wanna' speak to our dear little Astrid? Do you have a history together?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Personal history?" The young Witch probes further, scanning for an answer she isn't going to get.
"Nothing like the history you're likely pondering in your mind, no, that would be unnatural and unacceptable. Can you please do me a favour and inform Miss Astrid that- her brother is waiting outside the room for her, and that, he wishes to speak to her? That would be greatly appreciated."
"No kidding?! Another brother?! Now that I gaze at you from the front, I don't see much of Astrid and Elliot in your appearance, but there's definitely something shared among you, I just can't place my finger on it, are you sure you're related?"
"As related as half-siblings go, yes, I will be waiting outside for her, she can take as much time as required, but I will waiting for her regardless."
"Another brother, huh? That's new news to me, Astrid has only ever mentioned having one other sibling but seemed to have indicated that they had departed years ago, or was dead to her at the very least. I'm sorry, I'm rambling on, I will go speak to her now, hopefully, she doesn't take too much of your time, just a moment."
"Yeah," Percival sighs, his eyes slowly moving onto a mirror sitting on a table outside the dormitory, reluctantly observing his own reflection, the sight of what stares back causing him to look away after only a few seconds. "Something along those lines."