Disclaimer: Children of the Lamp belongs to P. B. Kerr
Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the reviews! You R&Rers are awesome :)
Does anyone have a good idea for the title of this fic, because the current one's sorta… suckish. I was thinking something along the lines of the alphabetical alliteration or something, but I don't know… Any ideas?
...
The next day, when Philippa awoke, she was still bound to the chair, which was cemented to the floor. The night before, Dybbuk told her, in all seriousness, his plan for her.
When they first met, Philippa liked him. Even after everything he did when they were kids, she still sorta liked him. Until when he actually killed his good side and she never heard from him again. Until yesterday, that is.
All the feelings- fear, anger and grief went through her as she contemplated her future. She hoped that John would be looking for her, but she hadn't sensed anything from him at all. Maybe they hadn't noticed her absence yet…
Maybe she could knock some sense in Dybbuk to her go, but this time, she'd try a different approach.
"DYBBUK!" Philippa yelled at the top of her lungs. She heard footsteps. Thanks goodness.
"Yeah?" he asked drowsily, still clad in pajamas. He had on black silk pajama pants and a black tee-shirt. For the first time in years, Philippa could see Dybbuk's piercing eyes.
"W-Wow," she said, not meaning to.
"Finally took the time to notice my devilish good looks?" Dybbuk smirked.
"N-No!" Philippa scoffed. "Let me go," she changed the subject.
"We've been through this before," Dybbuk yawned. "I'm tired and I don't feel like helping right now."
"You really are your father's son," Philippa observed.
"Fine. Whatever. You win. You happy?" Dybbuk said coldly.
"…Well?" Philippa asked, exasperated.
"Well what?"
"Aren't you going to untie me?"
"Nah," Dybbuk shrugged. "I don't really feel like it."
Dybbuk abandoned Philippa and after changing into another black tee-shirt and black jeans, he headed upstairs to his study. He kicked the door open and plopped down on his comfortable red leather chair. There was a large globe on his desk and he opened a drawer, pulling out several little flags.
He pinned one flag right over New York City, another in London. He pinned another in Nepal and one more in Brazil. Dybbuk continued this until there was a small flag poking out of nearly every point on the globe.
Dybbuk sighed contentedly. He leaned back and pulled out a map from another drawer. He picked up a bright red sharpie and drew an evil smiley face over the map.
Dybbuk was planning his ever so evil plan. It's not that he didn't like being good; but evil was so easy and being good meant you were weak- at least in his eyes. When Dybbuk effortlessly did away with his good side, he had this warm feeling inside- a feeling of power.
He was tired of helping mundanes and once he regained his djinn power five years back, he set off to work with other djinn. Dybbuk hated the Marid after he convinced himself he wasn't one of them. The Jann and the Jinn irked him just as much. They always had to be good and ruined his plans, doing the right thing. The Ghuls were okay, and so were the Shaitan, but Dybbuk preferred working with the Ifrit.
Members of the Ifrit always thought they could outsmart him, but they were wrong. Dybbuk gained control of\ countless Ifrit casinos and bars through cheating, lying and stealing. Not long after, his father, Iblis Teer, came crawling to Dybbuk and he exploited his father just as his father had done to him years ago.
Dybbuk didn't want to interact with good djinn nor did he want to interact with bad. He liked some of the qualities from the Marid, Jann and Jinn, and some qualities from the Ifrit, Ghul and Shaitan.
So it seemed only logical for Dybbuk, who wanted to lead his own tribe, to lead a combination of good and evil. Except that no self-respecting djinn would join his newfound tribe…
As of yet, Dybbuk was one of the few Ifrit/Marid that existed in the djinn world, not that he'd ever acknowledge it. He knew of a few other part Ifrit part Marid, but decided that they would get in his way. The only way to make a tribe just the way he wanted was to raise them the exact way he wished to. Meaning that he needed to breed some first…
Dybbuk took a break from his deep thoughts and returned to his map.
"It's good being evil," he grinned.
"That it is," a voice behind Dybbuk startled him.
"Don't do that," Dybbuk turned around, facing Iblis.
"What? Are you going to make me?" Iblis mocked.
"You know I could," Dybbuk growled.
Iblis kept quiet.
"So, Dad, whatcha been up to?" Dybbuk asked.
"After you stole my power, son, and made me stay under your careful eye in this wretched house, I think you know very well what's going on," Iblis spat.
"Oh, right," Dybbuk grinned sadistically.
"What have you been doing?" Iblis inquired.
"Not that it's any of your concern," Dybbuk started. "But I've been planning my world domination."
"Haha, cute," Iblis laughed. "I remember when I wanted that."
"Good times, right? Well it never worked for you, because you're stupid, Iblis. I've got a plan and I've even started carrying it out," Dybbuk said, pride in his voice.
"Hmm… And how has that worked for you so far?"
"It's been good," Dybbuk grinned.
"Remind me what your ever so great plan is?" Iblis continued, his tone bored.
"Maybe next time you should listen when I state my evil business," Dybbuk said. "I told you; I'm starting a new djinn clan- half good, half bad. We'll get anything we want and soon absorb the other clans and I'll rule them all!"
"I tried that," Iblis stated. "And I just ended up with you," he spat.
A bloodcurdling scream from the basement alerted Dybbuk that Philippa was in trouble.
"Well? Aren't you going to help your little bitc-" Dybbuk grabbed Iblis at the collar.
"Don't call her that," he growled before walking off to see what Philippa's problem was.
...
A colony bats flew over Philippa's head and she couldn't help but scream. Ever since she was little, she hated bats. One of the bats found her shoulder to be comfortable and roosted there. Philippa weakly glanced over to her left shoulder where the bat was.
She screamed again.
No sooner did Dybbuk arrive. "What's your problem?"
"B-B-Bat!" Philippa cried. "GET IT OFF!"
Dybbuk winced as he rubbed his ear. "Could you scream any louder?"
"B-" Philippa started.
"Yeah, sarcasm," Dybbuk lifted the bat off of her shoulder and let it go.
"Why didn't you tell me there were bats down here?" Philippa asked, her eyes full of tears.
"I-It's not that bad," Dybbuk scoffed.
"Whatever," Philippa turned her head to the side.
Philippa's sharp gesture hurt Dybbuk. He could take crap from his father, from his enemies, but one little thing from Philippa and he was weak?
"I'm sorry," Dybbuk blurted before he realized what he was saying. He bent down to make eye contact with Philippa.
"You mean it?" Philippa looked hopeful; maybe Evil Dybbuk wasn't as bad as she thought.
"Nah," he stood up again. He was so close to untying her… What had just possessed him?
"Oh," Philippa frowned. Her stomach rumbled.
"Hungry?" Dybbuk asked. Philippa nodded weakly. "Yeah, too bad."
"What do mean…?"
"I mean- Deal with it," Dybbuk grunted.
"What's your problem?" Philippa exclaimed. "One minute you're nice, the next you're a butthole!"
"Get used to it," Dybbuk walked off in his signature manner.
"And what the heck is with you walking off all the time?" Philippa yelled to him, but her cry fell upon deaf ears.
...
Layla and Edward Gaunt were sitting at their dining table, worried out of their minds.
"Maybe she's with some friends, Layla, dear," Edward tried to soothe his wife.
"I called the school, Edward, she didn't show up today," Layla said, nearing tears.
"Where's John?" Edward asked, taking his worried wife's hand into his.
"He called. He's at a friend's house," Layla sighed.
"I think we're just overreacting," Edward suggested. "Phil might have taken one of those crazy teenager cut-class kind of days."
"Yes, but you know Phil," Layla Gaunt looked into her husband's eyes. "She wouldn't do something like that…"
...
Philippa just sat there, thinking. It's not as if she had anything better to do. After all, there are only so many things djinn can do, tied to a chair in a house that had a powerful binding.
Philippa's mind wandered to Dybbuk… The emotions she got from seeing him after so long were jumbled. On one hand, she was angry that he had kidnapped her, furious about showing up after everything he's done in the past and worried about what will happen to her. On the other hand, she, daresay, enjoyed his company. Why? It was a mystery to her. Maybe there was something in the food she ate last night.
She pushed the thought of being the mother of Dybbuk's child out of her mind. Maybe she misinterpreted what he was saying… Hopefully, thought Philippa.
She dozed off a little, tired from everything that was going on. She needed to save energy, considering that it was so cold Philippa could see her breath.
After a few hours, she began to rouse. Philippa blinked a little before realizing that she wasn't sitting in a chair. She sprang up and rubbed her wrists, glad to have the feeling back in them. Philippa took in her surroundings- the heating was on, she was in a bedroom, on a comfortable bed and there was a huge window beside her, letting in copious amounts of sunlight.
The only problem was that everything was blurry. Philippa reached for her glasses, which are usually over her eyes and felt nothing.
Nothing ever turns out good when I wake up in new surroundings… Philippa mentally grumbled. She didn't notice another presence appear in the room.
Philippa put her hands out, feeling around for her glasses. She looked all over the bed, to see if they had fallen off while she was asleep and she began to search the furniture. She carefully got off of the bed and stuck her hands in front of her, to look for obstacles. Her hands reached out to feel what felt like a ….nose…?
"Ow! Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!" Philippa could tell who it was from the voice.
"When did you get here, Dybbuk?"
"About a second ago," Dybbuk replied irritably. "Looking for these?" he held her glasses.
"…And what would those be exactly? I can't see without my glasses, you know," Philippa reminded.
Dybbuk sighed and placed Philippa's glasses on her, careful not to hurt her. He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Better?"
"Much," Philippa pushed her glasses onto her nose. "Why the sudden change?"
"In what?" Dybbuk asked, feigning innocence.
"The conditions in which you're keeping me in," Philippa replied. If anyone else had kidnapped her, she wouldn't be this compliant.
Dybbuk shrugged, "I thought I'd make it more like old times," Dybbuk grinned at her.
"Old times?" Philippa scoffed. "I think when you kidnapped me-"
"Don't say it like that… It sounds so… ugly," Dybbuk interrupted. "Anyways, I thought you'd be a little appreciative. I mean, if you liked your chair so much…"
"Nah, it's okay," Philippa flashed him a fake smile. Her features turned serious. "Why are you doing this Dybbuk?"
"You wouldn't understand," Dybbuk replied.
"The same way I don't understand why you're not djinn?" Philippa asked sarcastically.
"You don't get it," Dybbuk shook his head. He plopped down on the bed, beside Philippa. Philippa just kept a watchful eye on Dybbuk.
"You can explain it to me, you know," Philippa said knowingly.
"Yeah, but... I don't want to."
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