The next morning Remus woke up on the floor of the shrieking shack. He
looked around, and sighed in relief. It had just been a dream. He lay
back down and let his senses come back to him. It only took a few seconds
before he tensed up again, and began to panic. The familiar metallic taste
of blood was all through his mouth.
The best thing to do in these circumstances, he'd found, was to just get back to familiar surroundings before any recollection of the night revisited him. It was similar to getting blackout drunk, he assumed, so he'd heard on 20/20. When he stumbled back into the boys' dorm, everyone was still thankfully sleeping, so he went to clean himself up.
Good thing they HADN'T seen him too, because he looked a treat. His jaw was smeared savagely with blood and his arms had gathered a collection of nasty looking gashes. He changed out of his now torn and tattered clothing into fresh robes and threw the other ones away. He washed his face and brushed his teeth a few times to get that guilty taste of blood from his mouth. But he couldn't escape the flashbacks. Right while he was trying to concentrate his thoughts on the scrubbing sounds of his toothbrush, like the needle on a record changing, some new scenes entered his head. They were like slides, or slow motion film. A boy running up ahead, frantically through the woods, with the faint smell of tobacco around him. He'd been in the woods for a secret cigarette. Himself pouncing on the boy, tearing, ripping, carnal pleasure coursing through him. Next, a sensation of fullness, accompanied by the image of a terribly mutilated corpse. That corpse, bloody and marred, just kept flashing like a gruesome picture from a horror movie. He sat himself down on the toilet, breathed deeply, and tried to remove that horrible scene from his brain. It helped when Rob came in, blurry-eyed and wild-haired, to wash his face.
When he was suitably awakened, he looked over to Remus and said, "What's up, buddy? Not feeling good?" His voice cracked in the middle of the word good, and he turned red with embarrassment. Remus laughed in spite of himself.
"Just a bit dizzy, that's all. I'm OK." Rob continued with his morning routine, neglecting to brush his hair however. They all lumbered down to the Great Hall and took seats around the girls they'd met, who were already there. Remus sat conspicuously next to Laura and asked sheepishly how she was doing. They carried on as extensive a conversation as the morning would allow. Remus was inwardly amused at how Rob hardly took his eyes off Caroline, and vice versa. Talking to Laura made Remus temporarily forget his problems, but all too soon the bell rang.
Thank God they had Potions first, because Remus didn't think he could deal with any teacher but Trager. He'd fallen back into a black pit of depression. It was an effort barely to breathe, and he didn't think he'd even be able to say his name when Trager called it on the roll. But he nearly fainted when Trager came to one name.
"Coles?" He called. When there was no answer, he continued in a Ferris Bueller-esque fashion, "Coles.Coles.Bueller.Bueller.Haha, guess Mikey's not here today." Everyone in the class laughed appreciatively while Remus began to quietly hyperventilate. That face in the memory. He'd known it. Michael Coles, who sat exactly one bench in front of him, and always had crazy dandruff flakes on his robes. No one knew where Mike was, except for Remus. The boy was hamburger meat somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.
Reality began to dawn on him as the class progressed. As he mindlessly sliced some random root for insertion into the potion, his thoughts swam. They'd find the body sooner or later. Maybe they'd dismiss it to animals. That was partly true. But there would be saliva tests. There would be fiber samples. No doubt he'd left at least a shred of clothing on the body. Hair samples. Anything. They'd know. If they could determine suspects from a splatter of blood on the wall, they'd find Remus.
Then the punishment. He'd be put away. Even if he WAS taken pity on, even if he did plead insane or something, they'd pronounce him a danger to society. He'd be kept in a room with one small window, and fed hard dinner rolls and water for the rest of his natural life. He'd have to writhe in unaided, unfulfilled agony on every full moon until he died. The more Remus looked at it, the more he knew there was only one way out of this. He stashed a scrap of paper, some ink and a quill in the pocket of his robe and asked to be excused to the bathroom.
Remus ran down the hallway, his eyes livid with fear. Life wasn't worth living anymore. He couldn't bear the fact that he was a cold-blooded killer. It was better to just end his life here and save himself the misery of being a convict. He pushed himself into a boy's washroom and threw himself against the wall in the end stall.
A trembling hand reached into his robes and extracted a large bottle of painkillers he'd swiped from the hospital wing. He eventually, with some difficulty, tipped the entire bottle down his throat. He sunk down the wall, waiting for what he hoped would be swift and painless death.
It came in a rush of horror and anguish. Physically, Remus was sick until he couldn't move. Mentally he wanted nothing more than to live again, to see Rob and Sirius and especially Laura. But he had no choice now. Death was imminent as he lay down on the cold tile floor, blinded by pain. At that moment, the door swung open. There stood Jonathan and Sirius.
"And so." Jonathan stopped what he was saying as he noticed Remus, sick, and lying down on the bathroom floor. "Oh my god. Sirius. go back to the classroom, and get me the blue vial on the top shelf of the 7th year's cabinet. fast."
Sirius, who had been staring at Remus in horror, nodded, and bolted off down the hall.
"Remus." Jonathan said, looking sick himself, "What the hell did you do."
Remus didn't respond. He was dangerously close to blacking out now, and his vision was going blurry. Jonathan sat him up, and picked up the empty pill bottle lying on the ground nearby.
"Oh fuck Remus," he gasped, looking from the bottle, to the dying boy in front of him. Just in time, Sirius burst into the room with the blue vial, closely tailed by Rob.
"Rob wanted to come help," Sirius explained, handing him the bottle. Jonathan took it from him, and tipped its contents down Remus's throat.
"And now we pray to god it works," Trager sighed. The only had to wait a minute before Remus's eyes started to flutter back open.
"What's goin' on." he muttered drowsily, trying to sit up.
"It'll be ok Remus," Trager sighed, helping him sit up. "You'll be ok."
There was a knock at the door, and Caroline, Sarah and Laura all stepped inside the bathroom.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Sirius said.
"Do you think we care?" Laura snapped at him, then gasped when she saw Remus on the floor. "Oh my god. what happened."
Trager didn't say anything, just held up the bottle of pills instead.
She stood momentarily frozen in shock, then ran over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh god Remus, what the FUCK were you THINKING?"
"Laura?" he mumbled, still really out of it.
"We should get him to the hospital wing," Trager said, only to be ignored by the two of them.
"How could you do that?" Laura continued in hysterics. "I mean, you're only 11! I'm not ever leaving you alone ever ever ever ever ever again! Even if I have to sleep with you to do it!" This caught Remus's attention, and he smiled slightly at the girl by his side. He wasn't fully coherent yet, but sleeping with her didn't sound bad to him at all.
"Laura," Trager said, laughing at the expression that had come across Remus's face, "come on, let's get him to the hospital wing."
Laura looked up at him I disbelief. "How can you be laughing at this?" she yelled at him. This only made Trager laugh harder.
"Laura, I'm not laughing at what happened to Remus. I'm. oh never mind. Come on; let's get him out of here." She sighed, but reluctantly agreed to let him go.
The best thing to do in these circumstances, he'd found, was to just get back to familiar surroundings before any recollection of the night revisited him. It was similar to getting blackout drunk, he assumed, so he'd heard on 20/20. When he stumbled back into the boys' dorm, everyone was still thankfully sleeping, so he went to clean himself up.
Good thing they HADN'T seen him too, because he looked a treat. His jaw was smeared savagely with blood and his arms had gathered a collection of nasty looking gashes. He changed out of his now torn and tattered clothing into fresh robes and threw the other ones away. He washed his face and brushed his teeth a few times to get that guilty taste of blood from his mouth. But he couldn't escape the flashbacks. Right while he was trying to concentrate his thoughts on the scrubbing sounds of his toothbrush, like the needle on a record changing, some new scenes entered his head. They were like slides, or slow motion film. A boy running up ahead, frantically through the woods, with the faint smell of tobacco around him. He'd been in the woods for a secret cigarette. Himself pouncing on the boy, tearing, ripping, carnal pleasure coursing through him. Next, a sensation of fullness, accompanied by the image of a terribly mutilated corpse. That corpse, bloody and marred, just kept flashing like a gruesome picture from a horror movie. He sat himself down on the toilet, breathed deeply, and tried to remove that horrible scene from his brain. It helped when Rob came in, blurry-eyed and wild-haired, to wash his face.
When he was suitably awakened, he looked over to Remus and said, "What's up, buddy? Not feeling good?" His voice cracked in the middle of the word good, and he turned red with embarrassment. Remus laughed in spite of himself.
"Just a bit dizzy, that's all. I'm OK." Rob continued with his morning routine, neglecting to brush his hair however. They all lumbered down to the Great Hall and took seats around the girls they'd met, who were already there. Remus sat conspicuously next to Laura and asked sheepishly how she was doing. They carried on as extensive a conversation as the morning would allow. Remus was inwardly amused at how Rob hardly took his eyes off Caroline, and vice versa. Talking to Laura made Remus temporarily forget his problems, but all too soon the bell rang.
Thank God they had Potions first, because Remus didn't think he could deal with any teacher but Trager. He'd fallen back into a black pit of depression. It was an effort barely to breathe, and he didn't think he'd even be able to say his name when Trager called it on the roll. But he nearly fainted when Trager came to one name.
"Coles?" He called. When there was no answer, he continued in a Ferris Bueller-esque fashion, "Coles.Coles.Bueller.Bueller.Haha, guess Mikey's not here today." Everyone in the class laughed appreciatively while Remus began to quietly hyperventilate. That face in the memory. He'd known it. Michael Coles, who sat exactly one bench in front of him, and always had crazy dandruff flakes on his robes. No one knew where Mike was, except for Remus. The boy was hamburger meat somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.
Reality began to dawn on him as the class progressed. As he mindlessly sliced some random root for insertion into the potion, his thoughts swam. They'd find the body sooner or later. Maybe they'd dismiss it to animals. That was partly true. But there would be saliva tests. There would be fiber samples. No doubt he'd left at least a shred of clothing on the body. Hair samples. Anything. They'd know. If they could determine suspects from a splatter of blood on the wall, they'd find Remus.
Then the punishment. He'd be put away. Even if he WAS taken pity on, even if he did plead insane or something, they'd pronounce him a danger to society. He'd be kept in a room with one small window, and fed hard dinner rolls and water for the rest of his natural life. He'd have to writhe in unaided, unfulfilled agony on every full moon until he died. The more Remus looked at it, the more he knew there was only one way out of this. He stashed a scrap of paper, some ink and a quill in the pocket of his robe and asked to be excused to the bathroom.
Remus ran down the hallway, his eyes livid with fear. Life wasn't worth living anymore. He couldn't bear the fact that he was a cold-blooded killer. It was better to just end his life here and save himself the misery of being a convict. He pushed himself into a boy's washroom and threw himself against the wall in the end stall.
A trembling hand reached into his robes and extracted a large bottle of painkillers he'd swiped from the hospital wing. He eventually, with some difficulty, tipped the entire bottle down his throat. He sunk down the wall, waiting for what he hoped would be swift and painless death.
It came in a rush of horror and anguish. Physically, Remus was sick until he couldn't move. Mentally he wanted nothing more than to live again, to see Rob and Sirius and especially Laura. But he had no choice now. Death was imminent as he lay down on the cold tile floor, blinded by pain. At that moment, the door swung open. There stood Jonathan and Sirius.
"And so." Jonathan stopped what he was saying as he noticed Remus, sick, and lying down on the bathroom floor. "Oh my god. Sirius. go back to the classroom, and get me the blue vial on the top shelf of the 7th year's cabinet. fast."
Sirius, who had been staring at Remus in horror, nodded, and bolted off down the hall.
"Remus." Jonathan said, looking sick himself, "What the hell did you do."
Remus didn't respond. He was dangerously close to blacking out now, and his vision was going blurry. Jonathan sat him up, and picked up the empty pill bottle lying on the ground nearby.
"Oh fuck Remus," he gasped, looking from the bottle, to the dying boy in front of him. Just in time, Sirius burst into the room with the blue vial, closely tailed by Rob.
"Rob wanted to come help," Sirius explained, handing him the bottle. Jonathan took it from him, and tipped its contents down Remus's throat.
"And now we pray to god it works," Trager sighed. The only had to wait a minute before Remus's eyes started to flutter back open.
"What's goin' on." he muttered drowsily, trying to sit up.
"It'll be ok Remus," Trager sighed, helping him sit up. "You'll be ok."
There was a knock at the door, and Caroline, Sarah and Laura all stepped inside the bathroom.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Sirius said.
"Do you think we care?" Laura snapped at him, then gasped when she saw Remus on the floor. "Oh my god. what happened."
Trager didn't say anything, just held up the bottle of pills instead.
She stood momentarily frozen in shock, then ran over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh god Remus, what the FUCK were you THINKING?"
"Laura?" he mumbled, still really out of it.
"We should get him to the hospital wing," Trager said, only to be ignored by the two of them.
"How could you do that?" Laura continued in hysterics. "I mean, you're only 11! I'm not ever leaving you alone ever ever ever ever ever again! Even if I have to sleep with you to do it!" This caught Remus's attention, and he smiled slightly at the girl by his side. He wasn't fully coherent yet, but sleeping with her didn't sound bad to him at all.
"Laura," Trager said, laughing at the expression that had come across Remus's face, "come on, let's get him to the hospital wing."
Laura looked up at him I disbelief. "How can you be laughing at this?" she yelled at him. This only made Trager laugh harder.
"Laura, I'm not laughing at what happened to Remus. I'm. oh never mind. Come on; let's get him out of here." She sighed, but reluctantly agreed to let him go.