Chapter 10 (by YOUR MOM
"El Muerte Rojo... El Muerte Rojo..." Dorian murmured quietly to himself. Skinner was waiting patiently outside, as the Immortal searched through his vast library for any Spanish translation books. He bit his lower lip, and pulled one certain old, thick book out from the corner, and flicked through it quietly.
Meanwhile, in the Artist's Lair...Mina was growling dangerously, furious dark orbs narrowed at the guards and iron bars that surrounded them. Tom was lying unconscious beside her, a trail of crimson blood seeping from a wound on his forehead. Nemo was silent, staring at the ground, and Jekyll was conversing with a strange looking French man, who sat in the corner, his arms tied behind his back. His small moustache twitched, and he meekly replied to Jekyll's interrogating.
Mina was not impressed. It wasn't like the League to be beaten like this. And how many times had they been captured that evening? Twice. Twice, for God's sake! Mina stood, and began pacing angrily. If only they had Quartermain. He was the one with the plans. Mina was... she winced faintly to herself, rose-red lips pursing tightly.
"So, you're really a well-known villain?" Jekyll was peering most interested at the Artist, bright eyes wide with awe.
"Well... uhm... sort of." The Artist attempted a weak smile, though it failed. Inside, his organs were wrenching. He couldn't even remember how he got there. Now he felt like Dorian.
"Is you're name really the Artist?" Jekyll pried again.
"... No." The Artist sighed.
"... Then what is it?"
"... Ferdinand. Ferdinand Pierre." Ferdinand turned crimson, and averted his eyes to the cold ground. Jekyll, however, smiled pleasantly, and patted the other on the shoulder.
"It'll be okay, Ferdinand. We'll get out of this alive."
That didn't make Ferdinand feel any better.
Before the Artist could reply, suddenly a small form was dragged past their cell. All of the League members who were able-bodied lifted their gazes to stare through the small rectangular opening at the door, at the shrieking form of some Spanish man. He squirmed like burning snake, saliva spitting from his mouth at the guards who were dragging him. Taking a mighty breath, he finally let out the most familiar words...
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"The Red Death!" Dorian cried, pushing the doors open and almost stumbling into Skinner in his rush to get outside. "El Muerte Rojo is the Red Death!" He almost beamed, holding up the large thick translation book.
Skinner arched a brow, and absently re-adjusted his hat. "Thaaaat's great, Dorian. But that doesn't help us."
Dorian smirked, eyes gleaming.
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"El Muerte Rojo?" Jekyll murmured quietly to himself, and narrowed his eyes. He had heard that some place before- he was sure of it. And that was when Mina turned on the Artist.
"This is your headquarters! You should know how to get out of these cells!" She hissed viciously, causing poor Ferdinand to shrink back against the wall.
"I... I... I can't.... can't remember..." He stammered, hands writhing in their rope bonds.
"If you don't remember now I swear to God I'll drink you dry!"
Uhhhhhh that sounded dirty. ---Ferdinand gulped softly again, and Jekyll tried to intervene.
"Please, Mina, just leave him alone for a few moments." He whispered softly back, but the vampire didn't listen. Instead, she snarled, revealing neat triangulars, and pushed past him to grip the Artist's collar. He yelped, wriggling even more.
"Do you remember now?" She growled, voice rumbling in her throat.
"I-I-I..." Ferdinand began, eyes averting to the door, where a hairline crack had made it's way up to the small rectangular window.
And that's when recognition bloomed.
The cell the League were locked in was compact and dank. On the outside, the guards could only see inside if they peeked through an open rectangular shape on the door. The walls were made of hard iron, and were practically unbreakable.
It was, of course, the kind of cell James Bond would be put in, because there would always be a way out. But see, the League wouldn't have to go through all the action of escaping- because, due to funding reasons, the Artist could only afford plastic and cardboard doors.
Back at Dorian's Mansion ... thing..."See?" Dorian held up an old newspaper clipping in front of Skinner's face, and waved it around a little.
".... I'd be able to see it better if you stopped waving it." Skinner replied in a grumble, and snatched the paper away. Dorian pulled a face and mouthed Rodney's sentence, rolling his eyes before pointing at the large heading.
"Can you read it?"
"Of course I bloomin' can, you reject."
"Whatever." Dorian smiled slyly, and folded his arms.
"Red Death Sweeps Britain. Isn't that supposed to be black?" Skinner read out the headline, and then blinked, peering up over at the paper at Dorian. The Immortal shrugged, and itched at his freshly shaved beard. Poor thing.
"... That's what everyone else said, too. But it was different to the plague. People... just seemed to burst into flame."
"They call that spontaneously combusting."
"I don't mean like that." Dorian huffed, and shook his head. "Anyway... One of the victims managed to survive long enough to say the name of his murderer." Dorian stated matter-o-factly, and pointed at the last line.
". . . Most have been childishly naming this terror of a disease 'Anthrax'. We are not sure if this is a type of Anthrax, or not, but one of the victims managed to recall the 'creature' saying his name was . . . Thrax."
"I still don't get how this can help us." Skinner arched a brow, and handed the paper back to Dorian. Gray let out an exasperated sigh, and placed the newspaper clipping back on his desk.
"Do you realise, that knowing somebody's name is one of the greatest weapons of all time?"
"Oh yeah?"
"... Mm-hmm."
"... Interesting."
Dorian cocked a brow, and pulled a face again. "Shkinner?"
"Mm?"
"... Shut up."
At the Artist's Lair again, which has been overrun by Thrax (who isn't Anthrax)'s lackeys..."WHAT?!" Mina practically screeched at Ferdinand.
"Well... I... I didn't know... I thought... I thought that you wanted to make... y'know... a dramatic exit... or... or something." He murmured meekly, and sniffed.
Mina's eyebrow twitched, and she sent a powerful kick into the door. It shook, and in place of her shoe toe, was a deep dent. "We can make a dramatic exit anyway! I can't believe you didn't tell us the walls were PAPER!"
"Well... not really the walls, just the doors. And... it's cardboard, not pa-"
"I. DON'T. CARE!"
"Ooookay."
Mina took a deep breath, and quickly tucked some strands of hair behind her ear.
"Now we can go."
God. Back at Dorian's. Rahrah. Blahblah. ;
"Alright. Let's go destroy Thrax, and that pitiful Artist chap." Dorian swept his cane into his hands, topping his head with an elegant grey bowler hat. He stood patiently at the door, lifting a steely gaze towards the stairs, where Skinner was slowly ambling down.
"Cor- nuh, Gray, we're getting the League first." Rodney replied as he shuffled his own hat on, pushing a new pair of pince-nez onto his invisible nose.
"No, Mister Skinner, first we destroy Thrax and the Artist. Then we can help your moronic League." Dorian arched a brow, leaning softly against his cane. One ankle crossed over the other as he stood, his spare hand resting against his hip. Skinner stopped half way down the stairs, white painted lips tautening.
"I think you misunderstood me, Mister Gray- first we get the League. Tha's our main priority, hear?" He placed his gloved hands against the railings of the stairs, which brought back some unwanted memories of Dorian sliding down it in an almost sexy way. Skinner crinkled his nose, jerking his hands away sharply. Damn it, he wasn't gay. Not GAY. He liked Mina, damn it. Not men. Mina. Men. ... Dorian was looking quite handsome today... Dammit!
Dorian chuckled silkily, lifting his hand from his hip to rub a recently scrubbed face. "Stop being dim, Skinner. Oh, no, wait... you can't help it. But we mustdestroy Thrax and the Artist first."
"Shut up. I refuse- we're saving the League."
"No- we're killing Thrax."
"We are not!"
"We are!"
And that was when Skinner flung a very expensive looking vase at Dorian's head.
The Artist's Lair: Dundundundun...The bodies of Thrax's cronies were piled up outside the cardboard prison, which now had quite a large hole in it. Mina cracked her knuckles, kicking one last man before turning sharply on her dangerous heel, and following after the rest of the League- Artist included.
Getting out of the Lair had been a tad bit harder, though all they seemed to run into were a few weak guards. The main problem was that Ferdinand couldn't remember a way out of his own Lair, seeing as he'd always left from the front of the galleria. He didn't tell the League this until they had exited out the back way, and ended up in a stinking alleyway- he'd thought they'd rather go out the back way, for it would be more secretive. Yet again Mina almost killed him.
Yay more Dorian and Skinner!Dorian hung a somewhat dazed head, the Immortal sitting pathetically in one of the plush chairs in his library. His hands were tied to the arms of the chair once more; a gag around his mouth to keep him from repeatedly yelling insults at Skinner as the Invisible Rogue grumpily left the mansion. It took only fifteen minutes for him to untie himself, and wander over to his window.
But Skinner was long gone. Dorian cursed faintly to himself, rubbing a hand through lustrous black hair. The imbecile! What did he think he was going to do, barge in there, all guns blazing, and save the League without getting a scratch? Ugh, how the Invisible Man annoyed Dorian so. Especially since Rodney had managed to somehow tie Dorian to a chair without getting stabbed in the process. Quite kinky, really.
Dorian rolled his eyes, quite unhappy that Skinner had gotten in the way of his plan. Yes, he did have a plan. Find the Lair (which wouldn't be hard, for there was a large sign reading 'The Artist's Lair- a new Gallery' down Butterfield Road, pointing in the direction of the large warehouse), kill Thrax and the Artist, and then, well, kill the League as well. Skinner wouldn't have died, Dorian would see to that. Rodney was...
Dorian shook his head as he made his way into his study. Rodney was just special, that was all. He didn't have any damn feelings for the stupid thief. None at all. Not even as a friend.
Well, maybe as a friend.
Skinner growled to himself as he stalked down the misty street, fists bundled into the pockets of his jacket. There was already a bruise forming over his cheekbone where Dorian had landed quite a good punch, but Skinner was easily ignoring the pain. He had better things to do, like finding the League.
"Damn that freaking immortal." Skinner grumbled beneath his breath, kicking at a loose stone, which ricocheted off the nearest wall, and into an alley.
A yelp came from the shadowed area- the rock must have connected with someone, quite painfully it sounded. Skinner blinked, tilting his head in the yelps direction, and slowly made his way towards it.
That was when he heard Mina's voice.
"What do you mean we could have gone out the front way without getting lost?!" She shouted, and when Skinner looked, she was leaning over the cowering figure of that French bloke he'd beaten the crap out of. Yanno, the one that molested Dorian? The Artist, obviously.
"I thought... you'd... uhm... want to go out the back way?"
"Why on EARTH would we WANT to go out the BACK way?!"
Skinner attempted to block out her shouting, barely making out the shapes of the figures behind her. There was Jekyll, trying to get his word in and help poor Ferdinand, and then Nemo beside him, with Tom's unconscious body draped over his shoulder. Skinner rolled his eyes. Somehow, this lot was actually quite comforting.
"Hello, my freaky darlings." A sarcastic grin was set against his lips now, as the Invisible Man sidled into the alley.
All eyes turned towards him, Mina stopping half shout to stare.
"Skinner?"
"Yes lovely? Oh, by the way... how in hell'd you get out of this one?"
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Dorian grumbled quietly to himself as he stalked about his study (a room just down the hallway from his library). So far, he had found nothing that could help them destroy Thrax. Not that he cared- why would he? The only reason why he wanted to be rid of the monster was because it had hurt Skinner. And, well, called Gray 'baby'. That had been kind of scary.
The Immortal stood in the corner of the small room, holding a candle above the pages of a thin book, steely eyes scanning the words quickly. He was so indulged in his reading that he didn't seem to notice when a form silently moved into the study, their features hidden in the shadows. That was- until they placed a hand on his shoulder.
Dorian jumped, candle extinguishing, spun to slam the book against the intruder's face, only to be pushed back against the shelf; book flying straight over the figure's head. Gray grunted faintly, a hand jerking to the side to grab his sword, when whoever had pinned him took a step back. They bent, lifting the dropped candlestick and placed it neatly on the table. Soon after igniting it, the 'intruder' was now revealed as, yes, the one and only Wilhelmina Harker. The vampire brushed herself off, lifting a dark gaze to stare at Dorian.
"Hello, lover." She lifted a brow as Dorian slowly unsheathed his sword.
"What brings you here, dear Mina? I thought you were still trapped in that lovely Artist's place." Dorian tilted his head slowly to one side, that familiar, knowing smirk lacing over his lips once more.
Mina shrugged, swinging her scarf over one shoulder as she took a step closer.
"Tsk, Dorian. I thought you were smarter than to fraternize with such a stupid villain like the Artist."
"Fraternize? Why, whatever do you mean?" Dorian took a step forward also, both brows lifting.
"I mean-"Mina's voice immediately snapped from its pre-coital simmer, to fester dangerously as she snarled. "You never change, Gray. I know you're working with the Artist to destroy us; even if he is a complete git."
Dorian rolled his eyes, leaning one hand against his cane.
"Why would I want to do that for? I can kill you on my own."
"You didn't succeed last time."
After this, came silence, Dorian turned. He picked up the book he had thrown, and simply continued to read.
"Don't turn your back on me, Dorian!" Mina snarled, her voice picking up a grating sound, as if her vampiric teeth were grinding against one another.
Dorian ignored her, quite simply.
Mina snapped, completely, her last nerve had been ground to the last grain. Sharply she swung her knife forward, catching Dorian against the small of his back. He stiffened, though barely flinched. Turning, he once more pulled at his sword, lashing back at Mina. The vampire countered the attack, ducking below the flashing blade, and shoving the tip of her knife into Dorian's thigh. Gray ignored the momentary pain, prior to sharply kneeing upward, catching Mina's face. She staggered backwards, hair flinging out of its proper bun as she immediately entered the battle, slicing her leg around to catch Dorian's side and slam him back against the desk.
"I'll murder you for good this time, Gray." Mina growled low, faster than she was the last time the two fought, for she abruptly slammed her knife down into Dorian's arm. The immortal bit back a loud curse, attempting to pull himself from the table. While he was busy trying to pry the knife from his arm, and the oaken desk, Mina smirked to herself. Dorian seemed to be suffering lack of concentration, though Mina was left dumbstruck as to what he could be thinking about. Instead of pondering on that point for a while, she flounced forward, slithering the Immortal's sword from his loosened grasp.
Dorian's grey eyes lifted to Mina's own blue, before the sword came sharply into his gut. It sliced easily through flesh, organ, sinew and bone, even table.
"... Ow." Dorian wheezed faintly, back managing a small arch as he left his pinned arm, and went to pull at the sword. Mina snapped her hand forward, lacing long fingers about Dorian's chin to push his head back against the table.
"I've always wondered what it would be like to taste your blood, Dorian..." She murmured, slowly leaning closer.
And that was when the most unusual hero arrived, or, well, had been there the whole time, and just simply decided to join in at that moment. Mina was unexpectedly thrown back, away from the restrained everlasting Dorian, and against the wall. Apparently this was all done by thin air, until the imperceptible protagonist picked up a book. It clocked Mina right on the forehead.
"Get over yerself, Harker!" Rodney Skinner snapped from his position beside Gray. The immortal had finally unfastened his arm, and was now still working on twisting the sword out from his insides; which also wasn't a very pleasant feeling.
Mina stared, softly brushing a small trickle of blood away from her lips.
"Skinner? What... what are you doing?" Her voice seemed a little meeker than usual, though she slowly squared her shoulders.
"To be damn truthful, I have no bloody idea." Skinner replied.
"I knew it!" Mina quite suddenly cracked her knuckles, an eyebrow twitching. "You're working with Gray, against us! How could I have missed it? I don't believe you, either, Skinner!"
"Shut up." Dorian grunted, his sword landing with a clatter against the carpeted floor. He slowly slunk from the table, holding his abdomen as the wound slowly faded away into ash.
"Stay out of it, Dorian." Skinner gave the Immortal a shove, which simply earned him a blank blink. "And you, Mina, stop jumping to stupid conclusions. I jus' like the table, is all. I didn't want you staining Gray's dirty blood all over it."
"Won't you just admit it and save me the trouble of having to bleed it out of you?" Mina took another small step forward.
"I don't have anything to admit!"
"Why don't you both take this outside?"
"Shut UP Gray!" Mina and Skinner both snapped in unison.
"Al-l-right."
Skinner and Mina continued their heated argument, causing Dorian to unnaturally receive a bad migraine. It became even worse when the other League members arrived at the door of the study, staring quietly, including the Artist.
"What is he doing here?!" Dorian abruptly shouted, voice raging over those of Skinner's and Mina's. Everyone turned to stare.
"Oh, hello my lovely Mister Dorian Gray." Ferdinand wiggled his fingers and smiled pleasantly, one side of his moustache twitching.
"GET OUT!" Sword up, Dorian moved to the Artist, the tip of his blade slashing poor Ferdinand hard across the face. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The hilt of his sword next met Nemo's nose, and Dorian's foot slammed up into Jekyll's crotch.
Skinner stayed completely silent, hoping Dorian wouldn't come attack him either. The poor League members had no hope as Dorian continued to beat at them, including Mina, until they were all shoved dazed outside, the door locked tight behind them. Dorian flung his back against the door, chest rising and falling hard. He let his sword slip again, eyes closing for a few moments.
Dorian became alert once more when he heard footsteps moving down the stairs, and he lifted his gaze to stare at the long leather jacket hovering mid-air at the small platform.
"Nice work Gray." Skinner muttered grumpily, arms crossing over his chest. Dorian clenched both fists at that, moving quickly away from the door, up the stairs, as if prepared to try and punch the invisible man.
Skinner lifted both hands to shield his face, stepping back. "Whoah! Whoah! Easy-"He stopped short when he felt Dorian's arms slink around his back, the Immortal's head nestling against the base of his neck. Skinner absolutely, completely froze. His arms jerked to his sides, remaining still as Dorian hugged him.
"I just..." After a few moments of awkward silence, Dorian slowly lifted his head away, though still held a tight grip on Skinner's back. Rodney was very glad that he was invisible, or else Gray would see his cheeks flush a bright crimson. "... Wanted to say..." Gray continued, slowly inching closer, and closer.
"Thank..." Now he was far too close for comfort, nose brushing up against Skinner's own. Dorian tilted his head, moving even closer, when a fist suddenly met his cheek, sent him staggering to the side, and onto his backside against the steps. Skinner lifted both fists, preparing to punch Dorian again.
"Don't ever do that again, Gray." Rodney rumbled.
Dorian stared at the floor, a hand against his cheek, shoulders sagged. His nose slowly crinkled as a snarl laced his lips, silver eyes nay innocent, yet cold and full of hatred once more.
"Get out. Go join your stupid League. Die along with them, Mister Skinner. Just... get out." He whispered, remaining seated.
Skinner didn't need Dorian to say anything else. He turned, snatching up his hat and shoving it on his head, continuing on, even till he was two blocks away from Dorian's mansion. The thief slowed his pace, a sigh escaping his lips as he stopped.
"Shit."