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Stahl Nacht
by CrimsonNoble
A/N: I's having hella comp problems. Forgive me. Delayed to hell. My
computer doth detest FF.N... And I'm skiving off my English to do this.
I don't like Mr. Wyckoff.
Disclaimer: I make no claims toward ownership of Harry Potter. I do,
however, claim ownership of Ange. 'Cause they're mine.
WARNING: This is rated R for a reason. Should you choose to ignore
said reason, read at your own risk. Masochism, sadism, sensuality,
graphic violence, and harsh language. Possible male/male
relationships, and definite female/female. Quite probable threesome
relationship between any of the above. Ye hast been warned. Should
any of the above be objectionable to you, there is a back button on
your browser, a convienient hyperlink back to the main Harry Potter
section of the site, and a simple right-click will reveal an option
for "back", if your computer works like mine. Can't help mac users
there.
Spoilers: OotP, GoF, PoA, CoS, SS.
Chapter 14:
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
Severus watched curiously as Lie extended his hand upon request. He
noted the ring adorning the ring finger, a simple, plain metal band
that no one would have thought different from any other, save that it
had nothing on it.
When Lie started to bring the hand back, he looked on in confusion.
Why would he disobey after such a show of obedience?
It was when the other hand started to pull the ring off that he started
to realize why he was. Even if it had no significance to anyone else,
evidently his host wanted the ring.
"No. Leave it there." Cais ordered, contentment underlying her words.
The world bounced, and Lie extended his hand again.
The platinum-haired woman traced the scars on the back of the hand,
tilting her head as she did so. "What does it mean?" She inquired.
Lie's tenor responded automatically. "I will not tell lies. Someone
thought I was lying when I was not. I had to write with something that
drew blood from my hand to use for ink."
Cais nodded musingly. "Interesting concept... hmm..."
Lie mumbled something in agreement, and fell silent, waiting for
further instructions. They were not long in coming.
"Place your hand here," the woman ordered, indicating something that
bore startling similarity to a pair of rolling pins pressed against
each other.
Lie stared at it for a moment, before Severus thought he could detect
a slight smile spreading across their face.
Blocky fingertips pressed against the crack between the pins, and a
beep echoed through the mostly Spartan room.
The next thing Snape knew was pleasure of an almost orgasmic intensity
as Lie's mind fed his own sensation, though his own mind supplied a
shriek of agony as the pins began to roll over the hand, crushing bone
and pulping muscle.
An instant--an eternity later, Lie fell to his knees as the pins
cylinders reached his wrist and reversed course. The sensations began
again anew, though Snape found this to be more agonizing than the first
time it had stroked the flesh.
His hand came free, and Lie held the mangled member in front of his
face, gazing through eyes almost crippled with ecstasy. The fingers
were unrecognizable, other than by the shards of bone sticking out at
odd angles, and the mutilated fingernails at the tips of the leftover
flesh. Blood had sprayed up his arm when it had been shoved away from
the pins, and ended up bursting the vein. Indeed, his heavily belted
pants also bore a layer of the viscous fluid. As did the once-grey
shirt. Perhaps the most disturbing part of the macabre spectacle was
the way the ring had nearly severed the finger it adorned, and might
have been the only thing holding the digit on. The inflictor, the
preserver.
Such wicked irony.
Cais turned away, unable to disguise the smile that had spread across
her full lips at the sound that had echoed from the boy's lips.
"Now fix it." She ordered as she left the room. That had left her
surprisingly aroused, and that made her uncomfortable. She'd have to
do something to remedy the problem.
"Ah," she murmured as she remembered something. "Until you do fix that,
the room will be periodically shocked a low level electric current.
I doubt there is much left in your head to scramble, but if you do not
work quickly, you will not be sentient much longer."
The door shut with a welcome finality, and Snape's mind was at liberty
to concentrate solely on the spikes of agony-pleasure the hand
unleashed on his own.
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
-------
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0521, January 6.
"What was that thing?" Was the question that was generally the
most prominent in the minds of the Order members.
Raye leaned against the wall of the chaotic room, her legs folded
at the knee, one ankle on top of the other, each foot under the opposite
thigh. Her eyes rested closed serenely, in comparison to the madness
of activity in the rest of the room.
Her hands rested on the floor, in each cupped palm a pool of blood
from the no-longer moving corpse lying several feet away, a tide of
blood spreading outward from where the shoulder had been impaled, and
the head severed. The head itself rested across the room, where the
albino-like woman had flung it after tearing it free.
The resistance offered by the neck had told her all she needed to know
to determine what the thing had been.
Of course, no one bothered to ask her what it was, so she didn't say.
Volunteering for something that didn't involve bloodshed wasn't her
way.
It was long minutes before she rose, pouring the contents of her right
hand into her left, watching as the crimson fell freely from her hand,
falling as if from a pane of glass, leaving no residue. How could it?
There were no lines on her palm for it to catch in.
She calmly bottled the liquid, shoved the bottle into the band of her
bikini bottom, and started out of the room.
To be stopped by a semi-irate McGonagall. "What happened here?" She
demanded, her voice strained and cracking with suppressed fury.
Raye blinked lazily as she looked at the taller woman. "I was just
going to inform Vector of a slight problem with her scrutinty of her
house. You will find out if you follow. If not, go fetch the old one
and attend."
McGonagall refused to be satisfied with the answer. "Tell me, or I
will not allow you to leave!"
Pale eyelids narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Stand aside woman." She
snapped quickly. She had patience, yes. She could sit for days on end,
waiting for someone to step into her crosshairs.
The one thing she could not stand, however, was old people who looked
old, and acted like it made them better.
The wrinkled woman glared at her, fury lining the corners of her mouth.
"No."
Raye's hand lashed out, the back impacting the side of the woman's
face, sending her to the floor.
"One warning." She mumbled, and exited.
Unfortunately for her, the old woman was shortly stepped on several
times as the body started to feel around for the missing head, and
people darted away from it in a mad rush.
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0549, January 6.
-------
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
Cais glanced through the one-way window as another gasp rent the still
air of the complex.
"Taking a while, is he not?" Mumbled a voice behind her.
"Euri... I believe it took you what, a year?" She responded blithely,
making sure her amusement was evident in her voice. "You needed to
repeat--what six times?--before you figured it out."
The scowl was equally audible. "I finished the rest in record time,
you know."
"I'm not denying that. But you do know he is going to kill you, right?"
Euri glanced through the window. "He is welcome to try. I expect Isis
will be happy to meet him."
Cais gave him a skeptical look. "Still on about that feather, are you
not?"
Euri's shoulder bounced off the wall with his reply. "I suppose. I
still say it has to be one hell of a feather."
Full lips twitched. "Come on now. He has only spent a few in there. He
is doing better than most."
Euri nodded, his head bouncing off the transparent surface. "You know
as well as I do. The nail that stands above the rest..."
She finished the sentence for him. "... is the one that gets hammered
down. Remember, that is my job. Not yours."
The man pouted. "Awww... My little one is giving me no excuses to
pound. He is boring..."
An amused laugh echoed through the hall. "So, yours is a he now?"
Euri blushed. "Yes."
"That is so sweet!" Cais exclaimed. "You fell for it!"
Euri's ears literally burst into flame, which he slapped in an attempt
to put out. That was a tendency he hadn't quite got over since his
master had inflicted it upon him.
Severus shrieked as best he could as another shock of Thor's gift
shattered his senses. Even through the excruciating agony of the
electricity frying Lie's, and by extension, his own, nerves, he could
feel the hardness of the boy's erection pressing against his stomach
as he curled into a ball.
The consciousness once known as Severus Snape was loosing his battle.
The duality of sensations from everything was slowly, but strongly
tugging at his mind, beckoning it into the deep, peaceful darkness.
And he was slowly beginning to think it might be a good idea.
He had long ago, years--days? minutes?--ago, lost track of how long
it had been since the mauling of the hand.
Slowly a scattered thought peiced itself together. Could she have
made a memory... like this?...
His responding thought was slow and long in coming, as just before it
completed forming, another electric current rent his thoughts apart,
and black encroached the edges of his vision as the back of Lie's head
rammed into the metal floor as the muscles in his back hyper-contracted
with the energy pulsating through them.
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
-------
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts. 0603, January 6.
"So, Miss--" The aged wizard was cut off by the sharp look, promising
retribution should he finish that statement. "Raye'rok," he amended
hastily. "You claim to know what this thing was?" He inquired,
remarkably delicately considering the corpse lying at his feet. The
head, which had been blinking at the time, Raye had taken upon herself
to squash in much the same way she squashed a cockroach.
Raye nodded, absently running a hand through the azure bob-cut of hair
decorating her scalp.
"It... was a reanimated corpse." She affirmed.
The thing was disturbing to her. Not scary, but disturbing. It had
been dead. And then it had stood back up. That was something she was
most emphatically not used to. Dead things stayed dead.
Then again, typically she didn't see much of a corpse anyway.
"Someone brought it back to life?" The man demanded sharply.
"No..." Raye shook her head slowly, trying to ignore the occasional
spasm from the headless body. "I said reanimated, not revived. It was
a... puppet. It was--and still is--being controlled by the magic--or
science--of whoever brought it back. The head was the focal point, so
when I dealt with that, it died. Again."
McGonagall broke in, bandaged and casted as she was, "So it's really
dead now?"
Raye shook her head again. "I think it was magically done. If so, the
magic will find a new focal point soon enough. Then it will not matter
that the head is gone."
Sharp, peircing blue eyes looked at her. "How long will this continue?"
Raye looked back, sheilding her eyes with her hand. "No legilmency,"
she reminded the man before continuing. "It will continue forever.
Should the focal point become a finger, it will attempt to stuff
itself down someone's throat. My advice: Burn it, launch the ashes
into the sun, and then figure out who the reanimator is."
"Why?"
Raye looked at the man curiously. "Because, this boy was either dead
for two days, reanimated, and died at my hands, or he was killed, then
revived, and has been among your number for two years. Or some length
of time splitting that."
The eyes of one Flitwick widened considerably. "How do you know so
much about this?" He asked, nearly bouncing in his seat.
Raye shrugged. "Seen it before. It managed to kill a few people before
I returned the favor. It killed a few more people before I figured it
out."
The arm of the corpse lifted, and scrabbled around on the floor during
the few moments it took for Raye to shove her arm through it's chest.
"Typically," she continued as if nothing had happened, though she was
answering the questioning gazes, "the magic latches on to the strongest
remaing life source. Head, then heart, then the rest of the major
organs."
She kicked the body, and then turned to walk away. "Now, I am late for
something. I might come back, I might not. If I do not, I did not
deserve to. So, take care!"
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts. 0614, January 6.
Relle--Bwuhahahaha... late for classes? Yep. 'Tis what Raye considers
his/her birth. Understand: Snape is already out of Raye's head if it
is told with an actual location/time/date. Not that he's much use to
anyone, but... the rest is back to within Raye's head. All of that
happened really, really dang fast. His body is, at the moment of the
end of chapter thirteen outside, being restrained in St. Mungo's,
frothing at the mouth. And that's another thing, it can't be called
Saint Mungo's, 'cos to be a saint you have to be cannonized by
the church, and there's no saint Mungo. I rant again. Battle Royale is
about a bunch of ninth-graders in Japan, who are put on an island to
kill each other as part of a Program put in place by a merciless
dictatorship. Several current Threesome possibilites, the most likely
being Raye/Harry+Tonks+Luna, then Ron+Hermione+Ginny (I'm a sick
bastard), then Remus+Ameila+Lockhart. >.>
ReginaLucifer--happy birthday then. Bonne Anne and all that rot. ^_^
Thing being Ange or Neko? Ange don't get an explanation yet, Neko's
just one who likes to toy with the heads of potentials. Or the thing
Raye dealt with?
by CrimsonNoble
A/N: I's having hella comp problems. Forgive me. Delayed to hell. My
computer doth detest FF.N... And I'm skiving off my English to do this.
I don't like Mr. Wyckoff.
Disclaimer: I make no claims toward ownership of Harry Potter. I do,
however, claim ownership of Ange. 'Cause they're mine.
WARNING: This is rated R for a reason. Should you choose to ignore
said reason, read at your own risk. Masochism, sadism, sensuality,
graphic violence, and harsh language. Possible male/male
relationships, and definite female/female. Quite probable threesome
relationship between any of the above. Ye hast been warned. Should
any of the above be objectionable to you, there is a back button on
your browser, a convienient hyperlink back to the main Harry Potter
section of the site, and a simple right-click will reveal an option
for "back", if your computer works like mine. Can't help mac users
there.
Spoilers: OotP, GoF, PoA, CoS, SS.
Chapter 14:
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
Severus watched curiously as Lie extended his hand upon request. He
noted the ring adorning the ring finger, a simple, plain metal band
that no one would have thought different from any other, save that it
had nothing on it.
When Lie started to bring the hand back, he looked on in confusion.
Why would he disobey after such a show of obedience?
It was when the other hand started to pull the ring off that he started
to realize why he was. Even if it had no significance to anyone else,
evidently his host wanted the ring.
"No. Leave it there." Cais ordered, contentment underlying her words.
The world bounced, and Lie extended his hand again.
The platinum-haired woman traced the scars on the back of the hand,
tilting her head as she did so. "What does it mean?" She inquired.
Lie's tenor responded automatically. "I will not tell lies. Someone
thought I was lying when I was not. I had to write with something that
drew blood from my hand to use for ink."
Cais nodded musingly. "Interesting concept... hmm..."
Lie mumbled something in agreement, and fell silent, waiting for
further instructions. They were not long in coming.
"Place your hand here," the woman ordered, indicating something that
bore startling similarity to a pair of rolling pins pressed against
each other.
Lie stared at it for a moment, before Severus thought he could detect
a slight smile spreading across their face.
Blocky fingertips pressed against the crack between the pins, and a
beep echoed through the mostly Spartan room.
The next thing Snape knew was pleasure of an almost orgasmic intensity
as Lie's mind fed his own sensation, though his own mind supplied a
shriek of agony as the pins began to roll over the hand, crushing bone
and pulping muscle.
An instant--an eternity later, Lie fell to his knees as the pins
cylinders reached his wrist and reversed course. The sensations began
again anew, though Snape found this to be more agonizing than the first
time it had stroked the flesh.
His hand came free, and Lie held the mangled member in front of his
face, gazing through eyes almost crippled with ecstasy. The fingers
were unrecognizable, other than by the shards of bone sticking out at
odd angles, and the mutilated fingernails at the tips of the leftover
flesh. Blood had sprayed up his arm when it had been shoved away from
the pins, and ended up bursting the vein. Indeed, his heavily belted
pants also bore a layer of the viscous fluid. As did the once-grey
shirt. Perhaps the most disturbing part of the macabre spectacle was
the way the ring had nearly severed the finger it adorned, and might
have been the only thing holding the digit on. The inflictor, the
preserver.
Such wicked irony.
Cais turned away, unable to disguise the smile that had spread across
her full lips at the sound that had echoed from the boy's lips.
"Now fix it." She ordered as she left the room. That had left her
surprisingly aroused, and that made her uncomfortable. She'd have to
do something to remedy the problem.
"Ah," she murmured as she remembered something. "Until you do fix that,
the room will be periodically shocked a low level electric current.
I doubt there is much left in your head to scramble, but if you do not
work quickly, you will not be sentient much longer."
The door shut with a welcome finality, and Snape's mind was at liberty
to concentrate solely on the spikes of agony-pleasure the hand
unleashed on his own.
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
-------
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0521, January 6.
"What was that thing?" Was the question that was generally the
most prominent in the minds of the Order members.
Raye leaned against the wall of the chaotic room, her legs folded
at the knee, one ankle on top of the other, each foot under the opposite
thigh. Her eyes rested closed serenely, in comparison to the madness
of activity in the rest of the room.
Her hands rested on the floor, in each cupped palm a pool of blood
from the no-longer moving corpse lying several feet away, a tide of
blood spreading outward from where the shoulder had been impaled, and
the head severed. The head itself rested across the room, where the
albino-like woman had flung it after tearing it free.
The resistance offered by the neck had told her all she needed to know
to determine what the thing had been.
Of course, no one bothered to ask her what it was, so she didn't say.
Volunteering for something that didn't involve bloodshed wasn't her
way.
It was long minutes before she rose, pouring the contents of her right
hand into her left, watching as the crimson fell freely from her hand,
falling as if from a pane of glass, leaving no residue. How could it?
There were no lines on her palm for it to catch in.
She calmly bottled the liquid, shoved the bottle into the band of her
bikini bottom, and started out of the room.
To be stopped by a semi-irate McGonagall. "What happened here?" She
demanded, her voice strained and cracking with suppressed fury.
Raye blinked lazily as she looked at the taller woman. "I was just
going to inform Vector of a slight problem with her scrutinty of her
house. You will find out if you follow. If not, go fetch the old one
and attend."
McGonagall refused to be satisfied with the answer. "Tell me, or I
will not allow you to leave!"
Pale eyelids narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Stand aside woman." She
snapped quickly. She had patience, yes. She could sit for days on end,
waiting for someone to step into her crosshairs.
The one thing she could not stand, however, was old people who looked
old, and acted like it made them better.
The wrinkled woman glared at her, fury lining the corners of her mouth.
"No."
Raye's hand lashed out, the back impacting the side of the woman's
face, sending her to the floor.
"One warning." She mumbled, and exited.
Unfortunately for her, the old woman was shortly stepped on several
times as the body started to feel around for the missing head, and
people darted away from it in a mad rush.
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 0549, January 6.
-------
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
Cais glanced through the one-way window as another gasp rent the still
air of the complex.
"Taking a while, is he not?" Mumbled a voice behind her.
"Euri... I believe it took you what, a year?" She responded blithely,
making sure her amusement was evident in her voice. "You needed to
repeat--what six times?--before you figured it out."
The scowl was equally audible. "I finished the rest in record time,
you know."
"I'm not denying that. But you do know he is going to kill you, right?"
Euri glanced through the window. "He is welcome to try. I expect Isis
will be happy to meet him."
Cais gave him a skeptical look. "Still on about that feather, are you
not?"
Euri's shoulder bounced off the wall with his reply. "I suppose. I
still say it has to be one hell of a feather."
Full lips twitched. "Come on now. He has only spent a few in there. He
is doing better than most."
Euri nodded, his head bouncing off the transparent surface. "You know
as well as I do. The nail that stands above the rest..."
She finished the sentence for him. "... is the one that gets hammered
down. Remember, that is my job. Not yours."
The man pouted. "Awww... My little one is giving me no excuses to
pound. He is boring..."
An amused laugh echoed through the hall. "So, yours is a he now?"
Euri blushed. "Yes."
"That is so sweet!" Cais exclaimed. "You fell for it!"
Euri's ears literally burst into flame, which he slapped in an attempt
to put out. That was a tendency he hadn't quite got over since his
master had inflicted it upon him.
Severus shrieked as best he could as another shock of Thor's gift
shattered his senses. Even through the excruciating agony of the
electricity frying Lie's, and by extension, his own, nerves, he could
feel the hardness of the boy's erection pressing against his stomach
as he curled into a ball.
The consciousness once known as Severus Snape was loosing his battle.
The duality of sensations from everything was slowly, but strongly
tugging at his mind, beckoning it into the deep, peaceful darkness.
And he was slowly beginning to think it might be a good idea.
He had long ago, years--days? minutes?--ago, lost track of how long
it had been since the mauling of the hand.
Slowly a scattered thought peiced itself together. Could she have
made a memory... like this?...
His responding thought was slow and long in coming, as just before it
completed forming, another electric current rent his thoughts apart,
and black encroached the edges of his vision as the back of Lie's head
rammed into the metal floor as the muscles in his back hyper-contracted
with the energy pulsating through them.
UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!UNKNOWN!
-------
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts. 0603, January 6.
"So, Miss--" The aged wizard was cut off by the sharp look, promising
retribution should he finish that statement. "Raye'rok," he amended
hastily. "You claim to know what this thing was?" He inquired,
remarkably delicately considering the corpse lying at his feet. The
head, which had been blinking at the time, Raye had taken upon herself
to squash in much the same way she squashed a cockroach.
Raye nodded, absently running a hand through the azure bob-cut of hair
decorating her scalp.
"It... was a reanimated corpse." She affirmed.
The thing was disturbing to her. Not scary, but disturbing. It had
been dead. And then it had stood back up. That was something she was
most emphatically not used to. Dead things stayed dead.
Then again, typically she didn't see much of a corpse anyway.
"Someone brought it back to life?" The man demanded sharply.
"No..." Raye shook her head slowly, trying to ignore the occasional
spasm from the headless body. "I said reanimated, not revived. It was
a... puppet. It was--and still is--being controlled by the magic--or
science--of whoever brought it back. The head was the focal point, so
when I dealt with that, it died. Again."
McGonagall broke in, bandaged and casted as she was, "So it's really
dead now?"
Raye shook her head again. "I think it was magically done. If so, the
magic will find a new focal point soon enough. Then it will not matter
that the head is gone."
Sharp, peircing blue eyes looked at her. "How long will this continue?"
Raye looked back, sheilding her eyes with her hand. "No legilmency,"
she reminded the man before continuing. "It will continue forever.
Should the focal point become a finger, it will attempt to stuff
itself down someone's throat. My advice: Burn it, launch the ashes
into the sun, and then figure out who the reanimator is."
"Why?"
Raye looked at the man curiously. "Because, this boy was either dead
for two days, reanimated, and died at my hands, or he was killed, then
revived, and has been among your number for two years. Or some length
of time splitting that."
The eyes of one Flitwick widened considerably. "How do you know so
much about this?" He asked, nearly bouncing in his seat.
Raye shrugged. "Seen it before. It managed to kill a few people before
I returned the favor. It killed a few more people before I figured it
out."
The arm of the corpse lifted, and scrabbled around on the floor during
the few moments it took for Raye to shove her arm through it's chest.
"Typically," she continued as if nothing had happened, though she was
answering the questioning gazes, "the magic latches on to the strongest
remaing life source. Head, then heart, then the rest of the major
organs."
She kicked the body, and then turned to walk away. "Now, I am late for
something. I might come back, I might not. If I do not, I did not
deserve to. So, take care!"
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts. 0614, January 6.
Relle--Bwuhahahaha... late for classes? Yep. 'Tis what Raye considers
his/her birth. Understand: Snape is already out of Raye's head if it
is told with an actual location/time/date. Not that he's much use to
anyone, but... the rest is back to within Raye's head. All of that
happened really, really dang fast. His body is, at the moment of the
end of chapter thirteen outside, being restrained in St. Mungo's,
frothing at the mouth. And that's another thing, it can't be called
Saint Mungo's, 'cos to be a saint you have to be cannonized by
the church, and there's no saint Mungo. I rant again. Battle Royale is
about a bunch of ninth-graders in Japan, who are put on an island to
kill each other as part of a Program put in place by a merciless
dictatorship. Several current Threesome possibilites, the most likely
being Raye/Harry+Tonks+Luna, then Ron+Hermione+Ginny (I'm a sick
bastard), then Remus+Ameila+Lockhart. >.>
ReginaLucifer--happy birthday then. Bonne Anne and all that rot. ^_^
Thing being Ange or Neko? Ange don't get an explanation yet, Neko's
just one who likes to toy with the heads of potentials. Or the thing
Raye dealt with?