Double or Nothing
Chapter Twenty
Concentration
Almost giving up on trying
Almost heading for a fall
And now my mind is screaming out
I've gotta keep on fighting
But then again
It doesn't end
I'm heavily broken
And I don't know what to do
Can't you see that I'm choking
And I can't even move
Heavily Broken- The Veronicas
xxxXxxx
George awoke with a start. The last thing he remembered was the blinding, white-hot pain and everything going black. So…why was he in a bed? And why was he not in pain?
He glanced to the side; his coat, shirt and belt were slung over a chair and his satchel beside them. Absentmindedly he looked down and gingerly pressed his wounded side. He winced, yeah, it still hurt…it looked almost healed now and a long scar was left, stretching across to his back.
'I'm definitely dead. I must be…'
No. You're not actually.
'Damn.'
George could almost feel the glare he was sure Fred was shooting him.
He made to get out of the very warm bed but froze as the door opened, admitting entrance to a short, little old lady who, to George's surprise, spoke in perfect English.
"Now dear, don't strain yourself." She smiled, a gesture ruined by the absence of several teeth. George stared at her.
"Why am I here? H-How-"
"I found you in the woods dear…" she hobbled around the bed, pushing him and back and fluffing the pillows. "You were bleeding all over the snow so…." Here she prodded his wound, ignoring his attempts to try to squirm from her. "I carried you here."
"You? You carried me?" George raised an eyebrow.
"Looks can be deceiving." She smiled again "Now stay. I'll fetch you some fresh pie. You need a little more meat on your bones, boy."
George gaped as she left the room. What the heck was going on? He sat bolt upright again, suddenly realizing something. Where was his wand?
The lady reappeared quickly and sighed.
"Goodness me. You won't heal any faster if you act so rashly."
"Where's my wand?" George snapped, his eyes flitting quickly to the large slices of delicious smelling pie and back to her.
"Wand dear?" she frowned slightly. "You carried a sort of stick if that's what you mean…"
He rolled his eyes "Yes…"
The woman sighed "I thought it was just a stick, I threw it in the fire."
"You what?" George threw off the covers, wild eyed and leapt to his feet.
"But the most curious thing…it didn't burn…" she picked up the pie again and fixed the man with a funny look. "It's over there." She said nodding to the cabinet by the door on top of which George's wand rested.
He relaxed a little, eying her cautiously as she made her way over to him again.
"Eat. It's just come out of the oven. You're too skinny." And with that she set down the pie and left.
George sat staring at the food until his stomach decided to make its presence known. He flushed despite himself and eyed the pastry.
'What do you think it is?
I don't know, she's kinda creepy.
He shrugged, took a bite of the pie and frowned. It had a rather unusual taste.
'I still can't believe you're talking to me again. This is really weird…'
Neither can, Lugless. Oi…what if that pie's poisoned?
'So what if it is?' he scoffed 'I get to die and you don't have to worry about me killing mys-'
Shut up, George.
He grunted, dropped the plate onto the edge of the mattress and glanced at his torn and bloodied clothing. It was a pity…he had liked that coat too…
Sighing he reached about for fresh clothes and pulled them on, almost, but not quite, forgetting to relocate the thankfully tough bottle.
Without warning and with the suddenness of Apparition the whole house seemed to lurch sideways. The plate toppled from its perch on the bed and shattered on the wooded boards and George was forced to clutch the post to keep from falling himself.
"What the hell?" he cried as all fell still and silent again. Snatching his wand he dashed from the room, satchel over his shoulder and hopping to pull his shoe on.
xxxXxxx
The old woman looked up as George fumbled his way into the kitchen and made for what he assumed to be the front door.
"Where are you off to in such a rush, boy?" she asked, almost accusingly.
He stopped with one hand on the door. "Well I ain't staying here."
"Whatever are you leaving so soon for?" She wiped her hands and brushed the crumbs of pastry from her chin.
"The bloody house just moved!" He yelled, staring at her like she was crazy….which she may well have been.
"Poor boy…that bullet must have affected your brain." She cooed as though he were five and pulled firmly away from the door.
George resisted and tried to pry his arm away from her grip but stopped as he remembered something that had been bugging him and voiced the thought.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Two or three days…" she replied, her eyes narrowing as though examining something. Which indeed she was. Him, George realised as he was forced into a chair.
She's an old bat, you could overpower her in a second!
"Yes…I'd say early twenties, you're quite older than I usually like. But you'll have to do. Bit peaky, very freckled…good. Though…" she frowned, roughly pulling his hair to check the roots "Red heads tend to be rather stringy…I don't think so!" she cried, swiping her hand sideways and knocking George's wand from his hand.
"What is wrong with you?" he muttered, and winced as her fingers cut into his wrists.
She snapped something in Russian and thick cords burst from the back and legs of the chair. They wound their way tightly around the wizard, effectively binding his legs and from his chest to his elbows against the chair.
"What's wrong with me, boy? I'm so very busy hungry…I've only one little girl left and she's a tiny little thing. Well…her and the young hunter's toddler but there's only crusts left of him…"
George went green as the…woman…gestured to the crusts of pie that rested in the dish on the table.
'Oh God….I-I ate…'
She grinned evilly "That's right. Dear. I like to give me meals a little taste of what they're about to become."
"You evil, sick old hag…" George, greener now, spat out as she leered over him.
She only laughed and traced his jaw slowly, her gnarled old finger elongating, the fingernail beginning to sharpen.
"I do prefer younger, tenderer meat, thirteen or fourteen years, but as I said you'll have to do. Strong jaw but…" she sharply turned his face with enough force to possibly strain a muscle in his neck "Only one ear? How peculiar…ah HA!" she shrieked. Effectively startling George.
"You're a twin! One of the sweetest meats. So good, when I can get it, I sometimes eat it raw…" she lips her lips with an almost forked tongue and opened her mouth, far wider than any human should be able, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth.
George pulled his head away as best as he was able in his current, bound condition. How could she possibly tell that he was a twin? Despite how much he really did long for death sometimes he had absolutely had no intention nor desire to be eaten, raw or otherwise.
He wand lay only a few feet away if he could just… her claw like hands were quicker and clamped down on his outstretched fingers. He winced and couldn't help his eyes widening as the rather demonic face leaned closer to his flesh, teeth bared hungrily.
'Little help here!'
Mate…that is messed up!
Desperately he screwed up his eyes, forcing the bonds with all his strength. If he was to be eaten he at least didn't want to see it.
No. Like hell he was gonna let some Russian hag eat him!
A sudden scream from behind him distracted her. The teeth receded and she drew back snarling.
"I'll be back for you." She muttered angrily and disappeared.
"Oh God…what is going on in this bloody country?" he groaned to himself "Help me…Fred."
There was no reply. George couldn't believe it, Fred had gone, he had actually gone, and he was really going to let George die. He glanced at his wand on the floor, trying desperately to summon it with his mind. It gave a sort of feeble jump and then lay still.
At that moment the house gave another great lurch sending George toppling sideways onto the floor. A searing pain rushed up his side as the cords cut into his wound, accompanying the throb in his head as it struck the floor. He bit his lip angrily, feeling a warm trickle of blood running over his head.
The hag reappeared, slamming shut a door to George's left.
"Get up!" she snapped, grabbing the back of his chair and hoisting him up, much to his displeasure.
"Why bother healing me if you want to eat me?" he snarled as she wiped away the blood on his forehead.
She stared at him like he was stupid "Have you eaten spoiled meat?"
The claw-like fingernails extended again, digging into his cheek as she lifted his face.
'I'm gonna die…I'm actually going to die today.' Was all that went through George's head, over and over again, he had just about given up now and despite himself he whispered aloud "I'm coming, Fred."
Like hell you are!
Fred's voice echoed loudly in his mind as though he were standing right beside him again. But George could swear he could feel his brother's hand on his shoulder. Even as the Baba Yaga leaned in hungrily he actually glanced at his shoulder and promptly his azure eyes widened.
There was a hand there, clutching firmly as though George's shoulder was the only thing tying him to this world.
Fred didn't even glance at his brother but glared at the hag as though he was about to lunge at her. Which George was sure he would have done had he not been dead.
Concentrate, George. Just concentrate.
He drew strength from his twin's presence even if he would not look at him. George closed his eyes, though he did not want to draw his eyes away from Fred, and tried to concentrate.
It was broken quickly as he felt his coat and shirt being pushed off his shoulders and a second later he screamed.
She had bitten into his shoulder and none too gently. The pain was greater even than that he had felt when whatever projectile it was had shot him.
He was shaking violently and Fred's grip tightened.
Bloody hell! Damn it! Concentrate, George!
He wanted to yell and shout at his brother that it was kind of hard to concentrate when there were teeth in your shoulder. But he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the blood pouring down his chest and over his clothes. It didn't work but nonetheless he tried to keep his concentration.
George screamed again but as one both twins cried "Relashio!"
The cords binding George snapped without the use of a wand and he viciously threw the monster from his shoulder, screaming in pain as he felt her take some of his flesh with her.
Still crying out in pain, he crawled and grabbed his fallen wand, sending a jet of red into the screeching beast's chest sending her promptly flew back into the wall.
George staggered to his feet and murderously aimed his wand at the stunned, unmoving figure.
"You sick, ugly hag…" he muttered viciously and then unflinchingly uttered the spell
"Avada Kedavra!"
One flash of green light, one jerk of the body and she was dead.
Swaying on his feet unsteadily, George touched his shoulder and barely bit back another scream. It stung like nothing else could and there was definitely a piece missing.
You did it George. You actually did it.
"Did bloody what?" he spat aloud, gripping his shoulder and trying his hardest not to tremble.
You actually killed.
'Did you expect me to do otherwise? That thing tried to eat me in case you didn't notice that!'
It's scary watching you kill like that.
George ignored the voice of his twin and shakingly aimed his wand into the satchel. "Accio dittany."
At once the little bottle flew into George's hand. He did a double take as he lifted his eyes to his right to find no one.
Those precious seconds Fred had been with him had felt so much like it should be. Like Fred were alive again. But he had gone again and George couldn't be sure he had really been there at all or if it was just him losing his head.
Choking back the lump in his throat he poured some of the liquid onto the gruesome wound. Immediately new skin began to stretch itself over the spot that flesh had once been. The blood stopped pouring over his chest and down his back, and George yelled again as the process occurred painfully.
Unable to hold it back, he trembled violently as he looked again at the unmoving corpse and then at the crusts of toddler pie.
His stomach gave an almighty, none-too-gentle heave and he dropped to his knees, smashing them hard against the wooden floor and vomited violently. Emptying his stomach effectively and feeling himself turn steadily greener as he tried not to imagine a little boy being baked into a pie.
xxxXxxx
It was a good five minuted before he managed to get off the floor and stand, however unsteadily. A sudden thought struck him and he turned in the direction the scream had come from earlier. His eyes hardened,, he really didn't feel like playing hero to a kid who was probably dead by now anyway.
He didn't really give a damn about anyone anymore. Maybe it was the cruel adrenaline that came from killing or maybe it was just the kind of person grief and depression was turning him into. If George was honest with himself he'd have to say the latter was more likely.
He ignored the blood over his clothes and skin and shouldered the bag again, casting a dark look around the kitchen that would have looked lovely had it not been the corpse spoiling the otherwise grandmotherly scene.
George spun and pushed his way through the front door taking the snow and freezing wind as a great relief as he stepped out into it.
It was a completely different world compared to the warm and inviting interior and the feel of the wind on his no longer whole shoulder was most unpleasant, even beneath the layers of clothing covering it.
George was trembling now but only half from the cold. Trembling was all he could do now to keep from sobbing, from curling up and sobbing like a little child again.
If Fred thought that letting his twin see him again would make George feel better, he was sadly mistaken. It only made him long for death and long to be with Fred again more.
And now it was as though Fred had truly abandoned him. He had returned long enough to effectively save his brother's life, make a comment about George killing and then he was gone.