Rape Trigger Warning

Part II continued

"A Long Day in Dunwall"

Chapter 14

I plunged in and out of consciousness. The dark was quiet and calm and sweet, but the light, when it returned, was lancing pain in my head. I saw little. Glimpses of wood and candlelight. The twinkle of silver. Ramsey was dragging me, my limp body barely held above the floor. I thought I felt his arm at my waist, but sensation itself flickered in and out of existence. I drifted…

Ramsey's voice came to me in snatches, grating against my ear. "…see, my father lost it all when I was a boy… now I wear this uniform and send… to patrol the Rose Gardens instead of drinking with the men from the Shooting Club."

I felt his arm slip away. I fell hard, wooden planks coming up sharply. My hands smacked the ground, pain shooting up my arms. I stared at my signet ring, trying to pierce the fog drowning me in waves of light and dark.

"Empress Emily! What hap… Lieutenant?"

I forced my head up, assailed by fear as I realized that was the Captain's voice!

Alexi, run!

I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

"Sorry, but there can only be one Captain," Ramsey said with mocking regret. "That's me now."

He reached for her, his hand gripping her shoulder. With the other, he stabbed Alexi through the gut, a rapid upwards thrust that shattered my heart.

"No!" I cried, but my voice sounded distant and weak.

Alexi fell forward on the sword, leaning against the fatal blow, but Ramsey callously pushed her back. Blood spurted from her mouth as she crumbled to the floor.

He inspected the sword, dripping with blood. "So that's the Royal Protector's fancy weapon…" He snorted in derision. "What kind of sword folds in half?"

He threw it aside, but as it rattled on the floor I only had eyes for Captain Mayhew. My friend dying, bleeding out in front of me. It didn't seem real. I couldn't get a grip. Darkness swamped my vision. I drifted in and out… My legs seemed to swirl, my boots dragging against the wood. I couldn't think, the black fog swallowing me whole…

When consciousness returned, I was inside my study, slouched on the floor with my back against the wall. I couldn't feel my legs, but I saw them sprawled out in front of me. Get up! I screamed at myself, but a wave of nausea struck me.

Ramsey was crouched in front of me.

I tried to look into his eyes, but the effort made me dizzy. I just glared at his hands. I slowly realized he was holding my signet ring between his fingers. It gleamed with a metallic sheen, catching the morning light from the window behind me. It hurt my eyes. I realized Ramsey was talking. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

"...Elite Tower Guard… last resort, a safe room… enough gold to buy a good-sized island."

He flipped the signet ring in his hand like a sailor's lucky coin toss. I tried to lift myself with my hands, but I felt heavy and disoriented. My eyes fluttered to Ramsey's face, his silver hair glinting in the light, making me blink rapidly.

He was saying, "…and they say that this ring is one of only two keys to exist." He stood up, then, crossing to the door behind him. His voice became distant as waves of vertigo battered my skull. "She's all yours now, Lord Cosimo. Don't take too long. I need help moving the gold."

The Duke's brother hovered at the door, a dark shadow to my eyes. "You'll get your gold, Captain. Now leave us alone. Don't you know it's rude to keep an Empress waiting?"

Ramsey laughed as Lord Cosimo entered the room. The Serkonan turned his back and locked the door. The key made a metal scraping sound; it seemed overly loud.

Get up, Emily!

I felt outside myself. I was panting and grunting, but the sound of my own breathing seemed faraway. I watched him slowly turn away from the door and approach me.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

His wooden feet hammered the floors.

He crouched before me like Ramsey had, but unlike him he didn't keep his distance. Cosimo forced his knees between my legs and crawled over me like an animal, sniffing me as he moved up my body to finally crowd my face with his. When he pulled back slightly, I could see the dark of his eyes glittering with lust.

"I have to admit, Empress, I'm a little disappointed," he said in a mocking whisper.

I could feel the heat of his breath on my face; it made me want to vomit. Terror rose in my belly at his every word.

"Oh, don't worry, it's not your fault. It's Corvo's. Your legendary Royal Protector. Your beloved father. Maybe Delilah's fault, too. I didn't think she would turn Corvo into stone––that was surprising. You see, I thought for sure you'd both be carted off to prison for a little while. That is, before your trial and executions."

He took his time.

He threaded his fingers through my hair, softly at first, like a lover, but then he tore the silver pins from my hair like the act itself was meant to shame an Empress.

I never went in public with my hair down.

My hair fell to my shoulders, a warmth against my neck. He rubbed the silky strands between his fingers and laughed as I tried to turn my head away. It was too much. I felt only the barest twitch of response. My body felt weak, paralyzed, and the pressure behind my eyes was stabbing hot iron.

I was afraid I'd pass out, but a dark corner of my mind wondered if that'd be a mercy.

"But then Corvo's full of surprises, isn't he? The Mark of the Outsider! My, oh, my…" He made a tsk, tsk sound. "Surprised I know what that is? Delilah told us––my brother and I. She loves us, you see. We fuck her on a regular basis."

He said this like he was bragging, but then he sighed in long suffering patience, like that wasn't the point.

"Alas, Delilah was forced to turn Corvo into stone. The Mark made him truly dangerous. He'd already escaped from Coldridge once. Who was to say he couldn't do it again?"

He let my hair slip from his fingers, mocking regret pouring from his dark eyes.

"Hence, my disappointment. He's all turned to stone and now he can't watch. You see, I wanted the legendary Corvo Attano to watch with eyes wide open as I took his daughter before him over and over and… over."

I cried out, my voice sounding weak and faraway as he nosed his face beneath my hair and began to bite and suck on my neck. Stars exploded in my vision as I tried to fight back, to push him off me with hands that felt too weak, too disconnected, like they belonged to another body.

Darkness hit me like a sledgehammer… When I came back, Lord Cosimo was leaning back on his wooden heels, digging into the folds of his coat.

"Ramsey hit you harder than I thought," he said, cocking his head at me in scrutiny. "A nasty concussion looks like."

He withdrew a glass vial, holding it up against the light. Red liquid sloshed within. Sokolov's Elixir, I realized dimly. He lifted my chin, pouring the elixir into my mouth.

"Don't want you passing out again," he said. "What's the fun if you don't feel anything?"

He licked his lips, his eyes grazing over the marks he'd, no doubt, left behind on my neck. When his eyes moved lower to my breasts, his touch followed. He squeezed a handful, then rubbed my nipple with his thumb over my clothes.

"I'll kill you," I gruffly growled, sputtering in small chokes as the liquid burned down my throat. Was it not enough that I lose my throne? That innocents be massacred around me? Must I also endure rape by this wicked man?

And the Outsider… That black-eyed bastard! Had he known this might happen? Why didn't he warn me?

Cosimo laughed softly, tipping the vial, but only so far. He poured half of it on the floor, the red liquid bleeding into the carpet. "That's enough, Empress. I prefer a woman with some fight left in her." He smiled at me, enjoying the disgust and anger on my face. "I'd be a fool to underestimate Corvo's daughter."

You already have, I thought. I could feel the potion rushing through my veins like fire, shredding the darkness. He smiled at me, his gold-capped canines winking in the light as he roughly yanked me away from the wall unto my back.

My head smacked the ground, spreading stars in my vision. In the next instant, he straddled me, his weight over my hips. He grabbed my hands, forcing them above my head as he nipped at the curve of my breasts.

But with Sokolov's Elixir, I realized I could move again. Sensation flooded my body.

My father taught me what to do. I bucked upwards with my hips as hard as I could, my legs doing the heavy lifting. He lost his balance, reeling to the side, the pressure on my hands letting up. With my hands free, I suddenly had a fighting chance. I took it. By now we were both grunting, fighting for purchase. A calculated push under his chin with the heel of my palm sent his head and shoulders reeling away from me. It was enough. I wrested free of his weight, sliding out from beneath him to a half-sitting position.

He tried to laugh, surprised by my escape and delighted I was giving him a hard time, his dark eyes gleaming with arousal––a fact further supported by the bulge in his leather pants––but his pleasure was cut short as I snatched a handful of his long hair and threw his head back, using both hands to shove as hard as I could against the closest object I could find.

I aimed for the metal leg of the display case, but missed. His hair was too greasy and my hands slipped. Instead, the standing globe spun violently as Cosimo's head smacked against it. He crumbled to the floor, moaning in pain. That works, too. I staggered to my feet, a wave of vertigo crashing into me.

I grabbed the candelabra sitting on the coffee table, holding it upside down like a weapon and swung it at him. He blocked my clumsy blow with a raised arm, his lips locked in a grimace.

"You fucking bitch!" he snarled as the candelabra scattered across the floor, out of reach. His dark eyes were incensed with rage. He was twisted on the floor, blood trickling from his cut lip.

I kicked him as hard as I could in the meat of his calf muscle, buckling his knees. Keep your attacker down, I thought, remembering my father's voice as we trained at the waterfront. It was all analytical now, my mind shelving the rage and the fear as I focused on what I needed to do to keep my assailant down and off balance.

Cosimo held out his hands, trying to brace himself as he fell to the floor. He has no idea. I've already won. I grabbed a wooden foot, yanking his leg out from under him. In a vicious twist, it broke free. He cried out in pain.

I could see his stump, swollen red. There were strange metallic devices implanted in the skin. Where the prosthetic foot connected, I realized. I raised the wooden foot over my head and watched as his eyes widened.

He was staring up at me in horror. It felt good. Too good. I screamed as I forced it down over his head, aligning it just right. The stunning blow made a wet cracking sound. He slumped over, lying still on the floor. How dare you touch me! I am the Empress!

Adrenaline pumped through my veins and a wild rage filled my heart. I screamed again, raising the wooden foot above my head, yearning to pummel his skull into pulp.

But my screams turned to sobs, and the wooden foot fell from my hands, clanking and rolling to a stop on the floor. Visions of blood slashed across my mind's eye, a nightmare relived.

My father, turned to stone. Alexi, a sword slicing through her gut. And Delilah, her cold blue eyes drinking in my fear and shock and enjoying every second of it.

And I thought of my mother, and who I wanted to be.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I crouched beside the Duke's brother, flipping him by the round of his shoulder unto his back. I fingered the pulse at his neck. He was alive.

"Just a nasty concussion, Lord Cosimo."

I dug through his coat, finding yet another red vial. Good. I popped the lid and threw it back. It burned my throat the whole way down, but it was the only way I could flush the dizziness from my head in a hurry.

"I have to get out of here," I whispered, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I have to help Father."

A full dose of Sokolov's Elixir seemed to help. I had ringing in my ears, but I felt less nauseous. I fumbled through his coat and pants, searching for weapons. Surprisingly, he had none, not even a hidden dagger, but I did find the key to unlock my study. But I won't be using the door to escape, I thought, trying to think ahead. How many men did Ramsey have with him? And how long before they came back, looking for Lord Cosimo?

I glared at the Serkonan. His bloody lip was swollen, his mouth slack. "What shall I do with you?"

Cosimo the Fool.

I held my breath, thinking, then stood up and grabbed his wayward foot from the floor. It was badly dented where I'd cracked it against his skull. I opened the window and flung it out towards the river. It fell a long way, bouncing against the rocks below. I twisted the other from his foot, and sent it sailing out the window.

"You walked into my throne room, Lord Cosimo Abele," I said, towering above him. "Now you'll leave on hands and knees. When I take back my crown, you'll never stand in my throne room again."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Get through this. I crouched next to the door, pressing my hands flat against the wood, and peered through the keyhole.

I saw two men, neither of them Ramsey. One had his back to me, but the other was facing forward. Corporal Dial, I realized, my body quivering in wrath. Another traitorous dog. Just last night my father had entrusted him with the Tower's security detail in Captain Mayhew's absence! How many had turned? How many of my guards had Delilah and the Duke sunk their claws into?

I heard their voices, muffled by the door between us. Corporal Dial was saying, "…just asking. Maybe I should check on them. I heard weird noises, like loud––"

"C'mon, the creep is just enjoying himself. You just worry about the gold."

"Yeah, well, Ramsey better know what he's doing. I'm still not convinced there's a safe room. My wife says it's just a legend. No one's actually seen it. Not even the––"

"It's real and so is the gold. Ramsey will find it. Now do your damn job. I'll be downstairs. I saw that old chambermaid polishing some silver. It'll fetch a nice price. If you see anything good, throw it in the carriage."

"I know," the Corporal scowled. The men separated, and I pulled back, standing away from the door.

Coral, I thought, my heart shattering. Did they kill her too?

I climbed out the window, hugging the ledge. It was a trip I'd made dozens of times in the past, sneaking out to my bechambers for a romantic tryst with Wyman, but now it felt utterly foreign and terrifying. It was so windy! And even with Sokolov's Elixir, I felt dizzy and unsure of my balance.

The potion wasn't instant magic. Eventually, I'd need rest and time to recover. Even now I felt a steady throb in my head, promising a killer headache to come. The potion had medicinal effects, but mostly it fired up the body's immune response. The genius Anton created it during the Rat Plague to combat Weeper symptoms. Eventually, a cure was found––with the help of Anton Sokolov's rival, Piero Joplin, the same man who had crafted Corvo's infamous black mask and his unique folding sword.

The wind howled in my ears. I didn't look down.

The window to my bedchambers was open. I climbed through, immensely relieved that was over. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkened room.

It became a slow revelation of horror. Lieutenant Fraser and Corporal Wentworth were dead on the floor, their blood ghastly streaks against the blue carpets.

Then I saw the Captain.

She was further down the hallway, slumped against the wall. I rushed to her, crossing the distance with soft feet, careful not to make too much noise. My bedchamber's double doors were compromised. One hung partly open, the other broken, smashed on the floor.

She'd left a bloody trail.

"Alexi," I cried in a desperate whisper, crouching before her. I couldn't believe she was still alive after what I'd seen.

"I can't believe Ramsey's a traitor," she said, grimacing in pain as I took her hands. They were freezing, her lips turning blue with blood smeared across her chin. She didn't have much time.

"Alexi, I'm so sorry," I said, squeezing her hands.

"What… happened?" she asked, struggling to speak.

"There's a coup underway. The conspirators used the Crown Killer murders against me."

"Where's the Royal Protector?" The concern in her voice broke my heart.

"He's… they have him, Alexi."

But I'm going to get him back, I swore to myself.

With a trembling hand, she lifted my father's sword, offering it to me. Somehow, she had dragged it with her. I couldn't believe she'd had the strength. But that was just Alexi, my bedrock.

"You've got to get out of the Tower," she gasped. "Through your safe room."

It was her last breath. Her eyes glazed over, her head falling forward in death.

"Alexi…" My hand clutched the sword, slipping it from her grasp. "Goodbye, old friend."

Ramsey was a fool to discard it, I thought, staring at the sword in my hand. The sword gave me strength just knowing it was my father's. One day, I'll hand it back to him, and everything will be okay.

But Alexi was right. I needed to escape, and my safe room was my best bet. But Ramsey had my signet ring, and I had no idea how many men were with him. It was do or die. I cannot fail, I thought, for my father's sake.

I glanced at Alexi, her head bowed. Her red hair glistened in the late morning light, a beautiful red. And for the sake of my friends.

I took a deep breath and squeezed the hilt of my father's sword. Now. I stepped through the broken door. Corporal Dial was facing the bookshelf, unaware of my presence. I crept closer, so close I could see the pulse of his jugular thumping at his neck.

He was completely alone and at my mercy.

Corvo had been given the Mark of the Outsider. At its heart, it was essentially and simply power over others. He could have slashed and hacked his way through the Rat Plague, but he didn't. He chose to spare life where he could and took his revenge in ways that felt more… personal. Even righteous.

Now it was my turn.

I'd been betrayed, and some might say these men deserved death––but how could I ever look my father in the eye if I left a bloody trail behind me? How could I honor my mother's memory if I became everything she despised?

I grabbed Corporal Dial from behind, my right arm snaking around his meaty neck, his chin caught in the crook of my elbow. I added pressure to the back of his neck to keep him from head-butting me. I pulled back with my shoulders, the squeeze tightening. The Corporal grimaced and shifted on his feet, trying to throw me off, but I was counting down and he was getting weaker. In four seconds, he slumped in my arms, unconscious.

Perfect, I thought. Father would be proud.

I caught him before he slumped to the ground, laying him back against the bookshelf. He was a big man, heavily muscled (as many of my Elite Guards were), but I wasn't about to hide his body. Speed was more important than total secrecy right now. I leaned over the bannister. I could see the other guard in the chamber below, the man Corporal Dial had been talking to. He was casually picking through the room, picking up silver cups and popping fresh grapes into his mouth. It felt like an intrusion; an enemy in my house.

I saw Coral.

My hands tightened on the bannister, trembling in rage and grief. She was dead, sprawled on the floor with her neck slit open like a slaughtered animal, blood everywhere. I turned away and crossed into the next chamber. I saw no one. I took the marble stairs down and found Erick at the bottom. His blood was spattered on the wall from a vicious stab wound to the chest and his dour face was pale, locked in death's grimace. I picked up his appointment book, his blood soaking the pages.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, laying the book over him like a shield. I failed him. Failed so many.

I took a crouching position, sneaking closer to the chamber with the second guard. He had moved to the wall with the gem map. He was leaning against it, trying to pry loose one of the gems with a slim dagger. It was the red ruby affixed to the south, representing Karnaca, the capital city of the Isle of Serkonos.

Figures, I thought sourly.

This man was larger, his neck thick like a tree trunk. One mistake and I'm dead. I had to take the chokehold strong, fast, and accurate. A man his size could easily overpower me if I lost control for even a second.

I spared a quick glance through the glass door leading out to the throne room. I could be spotted at this angle. I had to act fast.

I went for his neck, snaking my arm––

Shit! The gem map betrayed me. Too late, I saw my reflection in the metallic surface and the guard's eyes, catching mine in shock. He grunted, diving downwards into a crouch. I pounced backwards and brought my sword up by reflex, angling it across my body as he twisted towards me. His sword was sheathed at his belt. Too late for him!

But he tried anyway.

He got the hilt halfway up before I landed a hit to his throat, using my hand instead of my sword. The man stumbled backwards, making choking noises. I swung around him, snaking my arms around his neck before he had a chance to recover. I counted six seconds before he dropped. I was breathing heavily, trembling from the near fatal mistake.

I glared at the gem map––at that fat red ruby. That's what Karnaca had always meant to me.

"I'm coming for you," I said. Where else? The Crown Killer's bloody trail had begun in Karnaca. I must go there if I wished to uncover the secrets of the conspiracy that had toppled my throne.

But first I had to escape Dunwall!

I turned away, gingerly stepping around Coral's body. Killing innocents. It was revolting!

"Your reign's off to a grand start, Delilah," I growled under my breath as I flattened against the wall next to the door leading out to the throne room. I tried to peer through the glass without being spotted.

It was hard to see anything.

The door was in the back, shadowed by huge columns that flanked the long aisle. I counted five… no, six men, including Ramsey. Too many to take on at once, I thought, fear rising.

Unless…

I didn't want to think it, but there it was. Unless I went for kills, not chokeholds. Lethal takedowns, I thought, squeezing the hilt of my sword. Did I have no choice?

I glowered at Ramsey, the tallest of the men, his silver hair gleaming. I had to get that ring back!

I cracked the door open an inch, listening intently.

"We'll use the carriage to get the gold out as planned," Ramsey was saying. "With the throne room doors blocked off for now, we should have the time we need. Just stay here and stall anyone who comes by. I'll be back when I've located the safe room."

One of the guards said, "We'll cover for you if anyone from the Duke's party returns." I didn't recognize his face, but he was one of mine––a traitor, but still mine. He wore the uniform of the Elite Tower Guard. In fact, it didn't appear any of the Duke's men from the Grand Serkonan Guard were present in the throne room. These men were all Ramsey's dogs. Did the Duke even know his Captain was already sneaking behind his back, raiding the royal reserves for his own personal gain?

"Astounding," I muttered.

Another guard spoke up. "This is exciting! Everything's changing."

Ramsey chuckled, a haughty edge to his voice that surprised me. I knew he was old blood (his aristocratic family having lost its luster in recent years due to bankruptcy), but I'd never caught him acting like a priggish noble before. Now I see his true self. A man corrupted by greed, rotten to his core.

"Yes, the natural order is reasserting itself," he boasted. "The Ramsey's once hosted the King and Queen of Morley, did you know that? I spent my childhood playing with the Buntings and the Boyles, the cream of society."

"And very soon you'll be back at the top, Captain."

"Where I belong."

As Ramsey separated from the group, I slipped back. He was tall and strong, like my father. If I fail another chokehold grab, I might not be so lucky this time. I glanced at the guard slumped near the gem map. No time to move him. I'd have to do it here, in this room. I hurried to the right, hiding in the shadows of a servant's closet. There were no doors; it was just a cordoned-off area where the palace staff kept various supplies. I smelled tea and crumpets. I tucked back as far as I could, listening for Ramsey's footsteps.

He opened the door and took three steps into the room before he noticed.

"What?" he gasped, hurrying to the unconscious guard. I floated away from the closet, sneaking behind him in a crouch. I knew I might have the same problem with the gem map's reflection, but Ramsey was looking down at the man.

As he bent over, feeling for a pulse, I kicked him as hard as I could in the calf muscle, crumbling his leg.

He fell to his knees. I grabbed his neck in a chokehold, counting down. One… two… His silver hair smelled like flowery pomade, suspiciously female. He was grabbing at my arms, trying to tear at me, but his body went limp at three.

He fell forward on top of the other guard. I rolled him over, digging through his pockets.

My signet ring.

Seeing it. Holding it. I could cry. "This won't leave my hand again," I promised as I slipped the ring around the middle finger of my left hand. Where it belongs.

I glanced down at Ramsey.

"I know where you belong, too."

He felt like twice my body weight. I dragged him across the floors by the arms towards the marble stairs. I had to gently reposition Erick's body to make room for Ramsey at the bottom.

I took each step one at a time, dragging Delilah's precious Captain up the stairs, then all the way down the hallway to my bedchambers. It was bloody hard work. At the bookshelf, I dropped his arms, breathing heavily from exertion. My head was throbbing and sweat beaded my brow.

I pressed my signet ring flat against the lock. It made a pleasant clicking noise as the mechanism engaged, winding the bookshelf open with a noisy grumble.

I stared into Rosemary's face.