The Devil's Destiny---5
His stomach was finally returning to normal with just a minor twinge of the agonizing fire he'd felt earlier. His arms and shoulders felt leaden as he struggled against the cords holding him tight. He'd tried to pull his ankles from the cords attached to them, but gave up when all it did was cause more agony to his shoulders when he lifted his feet completely off the floor. Time held little meaning for the gunslinger as there was no means to measure it in the dark confines of the cave. No light entered the cavern once the fire went out leaving him no way to tell whether it was night or day. He sagged against his bonds and let his head drop to his chest. 'I'm not giving up,' he thought. 'Just need to rest for a little while.'
He had no idea how long he slept but the sound of footsteps brought him back to the familiar darkness. He knew Maguire was back and he knew he'd need every ounce of strength he could muster to survive whatever this madman had in mind for him. He closed his eyes as a spark of light caught near him, the brightness of the quick flame causing his eyes to blink rapidly.
Maguire built up the fire until it illuminated the cavern. He rubbed his hands over the flame, smiling at the heat he felt there. He stood up and walked the short distance between the fire and his victim. "Hello, Chris, I hope you slept well."
Larabee refused to answer, his body trembling as the warmth of the fire finally reached him. Revulsion filled his eyes sending a warning that he'd find a way to repay what Maguire was doing to him.
Maguire hid the fear he felt wash over him as the restrained man glared at him. He knew if his victim ever got free he'd pay dearly for the pain he inflicted on him. He turned away from the gunslinger, hoping the blond hadn't read the fear in his own eyes. "I guess you're not feeling very talkative this morning, Chris. That's okay because I'll do the talking for both of us. I want you to know a little about me."
"I know all I need to know," Larabee snarled.
"No, Chris you don't. I'm sure you remember me telling you you're not my first victim. You are number five. At least that's the official count, I learned as I went and the others will never be found. I can also include the bastard who called himself my father. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to him for teaching me the things I could do. The power I could gain by taking a man's life at just the right moment," he stalked back to the gunslinger, a look of longing on his face, licking his lips as if tasting the hint of desire, a desire to own this man's soul. "The power that you hide deep inside you. The power only you know about. You've felt it every time you've taken a life. Haven't you, Chris? All those innocent victims dead by your hand."
"I never killed an innocent man," Larabee growled.
"How can you be sure? Don't bother answering that because it really doesn't matter. You have the strength of each victim inside you and when you die at my hands I will gain not only your strength and soul but theirs as well. My father taught me many things about pain, Chris, and I will teach them all to you before you die." He reached out and ran his fingers along Larabee's right cheek, smiling when the blond tried to pull away. "Before you die you will beg my forgiveness and know that I am your master. The owner of your soul. The only man worthy of taking your life."
"You're a coward, Maguire," Larabee sneered as the cold fingers continued to touch him.
"I am not a coward, Chris. If I was I wouldn't be able to fulfill my destiny. Or should I say our destiny?" He walked back to the fire and picked up the cup he placed near the flames. "I have something for you to drink. It's just water and a little something to get your imagination working properly. It's something my father used to use and I know from personal experience that it makes for a wild ride. It's made from the nightshade plant and has been used in many ways. For our purposes it'll be used to give you a taste of what losing control is all about. It'll make you feel really strange, make your heart race faster than that beautiful animal you ride. Hopefully I'm using the right amount this time and you won't get so sick to your stomach," he explained.
Larabee swallowed, painfully aware of the last experience he suffered with liquids this man forced down his throat. He clamped his lips tightly as Maguire stood before him.
"That won't do, Chris," Maguire told him, Once more reaching for the blond hair and pulling the head back. The corded muscles in the exposed throat sent a ripple of pleasure through the evil man. He recognized the strength in them and knew when death took this man, that strength would be his to harness. "It would be easier if you'd just open your mouth."
Larabee ignored the calm voice but couldn't ignore the pain as his hair was pulled back, stopping just short of pulling it from his scalp.
Maguire released the blond hair and grabbed his victim's nose, squeezing tightly until the gunslinger had no choice but to open his mouth and gulp in the much needed air. As soon as the mouth opened Maguire forced the liquid inside, clamping his hand over the lips in an effort to keep his prisoner from spitting the liquid back out. He repeated the process until the cup was empty and the bound man was coughing and gasping for breath. "It would've been so much easier on you if you'd only drank it and sat back to enjoy the experience."
"G...go to h...hell," Larabee gasped weakly, his chest heaving as he drew in the much needed oxygen.
"I assure you that is where I will end up someday. I have pledged my soul to the devil and received the strength to do what I need to do. It's a bargain I will continue to benefit from, Chris, and you are the stepping stone that will help me be strong for my destiny. Rest now because once the drug takes effect there will be little rest for you until it runs its course."
"Bastard!"
"You'll call me worse than that before we're through," Maguire grinned as he walked back to the fire. "Much worse."
Chris closed his eyes against the pain and nausea, knowing the drug Maguire forced on him was already starting to affect his vision. He groaned as a throbbing ache built in his head and tried to ignore the voice that continued to tell him of their future together. He lost the fight with the nausea and a thin stream of vomit erupted from his mouth.
"Dammit, I should make you take more of it," Maguire snapped as he walked backed to his victim. "We'll wait a little while and see if there was enough left in you to produce the effects I want," he laughed as the green eyes dulled with pain. "Relax and let the drug work for you, Chris. I can guarantee you won't be disappointed in its effects. Or Should I say I won't?"
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They rode fast and hard, knowing their leader matched the descriptions of Robert Maguire's other victims. Each man prayed their friend was safe and they'd find him working on the place they considered his little piece of heaven.
Vin rode slightly ahead of the others, his worry and fear for his friend causing him to keep the pace fast and furious. He followed the trail he'd covered many times before and soon pulled Peso to a halt in the clearing that surrounded the tiny shack. His eyes drifted to the horse standing in the corral. It seemed so natural, yet something felt out of kilter as he dismounted and hurried towards the animal.
"Something's wrong." Wilmington hurried towards the corral and stood beside the tracker.
"I'm gonna check the house, Buck."
Wilmington nodded and tried to ignore the look of guilt in the tracker's eyes. "Vin, we could be wrong," he said, not believing his own words but needing to say them anyway.
Tanner nodded as he watched the other four men search the surrounding area for any signs of the gunslinger. He walked to the small house and opened the door. He stepped into the gloomy interior, knowing instinctively that Chris wasn't there. His eyes swept over the inside, coming to rest on the small bed, the empty table, the cold stove. 'Dammit, Cowboy, where are you?' the thought, leaving the house to join the others. He stopped as his eyes fell on a dark stain on the step leading into the house. He reached down and touched it, knowing instinctively it was blood. He called the others over and showed them his discovery.
"Vin, can you see if you can pick up a trail?" Wilmington asked, his eyes drifting to the darkening sky overhead.
Tanner nodded slightly and moved to search the area.
"JD, you ride back to town and tell Mary we didn't find Chris but we're going to keep searching for him."
"Buck I want to..."
"Look, Kid, I know you want to help search but someone's gotta stay in town in case Chris returns," Wilmington snapped.
"Easy, Brothers. We don't need to be at each other's throats right now. If Brother Chris is in trouble we need to work together to get him out of it. Buck, if JD really wants to go with you I can go back to town and let Mary know what's happening."
"Thanks, Josiah," Dunne said gratefully.
"Alright, Kid, you come with us. Josiah, as soon as we find out anything we'll try and let you know. Hopefully Vin will find the trail pretty quickly." The ladies man said, knowing in his heart that Chris Larabee was in danger and he was pretty certain where that danger came from. He looked toward the side of the shack and his eyes met those of the tracker. He knew Vin felt the same way he did. Robert Maguire was a madman who preyed on men fitting Chris's description. Now Chris was missing and there was blood on the step leading to his home. 'Stay alive, Pard, we'll find you,' he silently vowed.
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Chris knew the things he was seeing weren't really there, but it didn't make it any easier for him. He heard Maguire's soft laughter as the first of the nightmarish creatures appeared before him. He recognized most of them as animals, but they'd become distorted and gruesome as a result of the nightshade's influence. A large bear with the head of a cat hissed as it raced towards him out of the fire. He squeezed his eyes tightly only to open them to a new and even more terrifying sight. A man stood before him holding a woman's head, her long blond hair streaked with red, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes beseeching him to help her. "N...no," the word barely passed his lips as the vision faded to be replaced by a snarling wolf. Its paw snapped out and Chris felt something sharp slash across his chest. He cried out as his head dropped forward and all visions stopped.
Maguire wiped the bloodied scalpel on his shirt. He knew what to expect from Larabee. Knew the drug caused horrific visions and saw the terror in his victim's green eyes. The fear and the pain succeeded in making the prisoner pass out. He reached up and tenderly placed his hand under the strong chin until he was looking into the face he knew so well. "I promise to show you just how much you can take before I take what is rightfully mine, Chris. Sleep for now and gain what little strength you can because our next meeting will involve a little more physical pain." He cleaned the shallow slash he'd made across the taut chest with whiskey before leaving his victim alone once more.
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Chris opened his eyes and groaned as he shifted his arms, taking the weight off his shoulders. The fire no longer blazed and the meager light came from the embers glowing in the small circle of stones. He shifted uneasily, his back stiff and painful as he finally stood up straight. He looked around the cave, wondering if Maguire was hidden in the shadows, watching him, enjoying the discomfort he was in. He shivered as a cold chill wormed its way down his spine.
He didn't know how much time passed since the hallucinations ended. Cold fingers of dread trailed down his spine as he tried to forget the images he'd seen while under the influence of the drug. His stomach churned and his body trembled as one vivid memory returned. Vin Tanner's body dangling at the end of a rope, his bloodied clothing draped down his lifeless body. His blue eyes filled with resentment as his damaged throat cried out his anger at Chris Larabee. He trembled again as the words echoed threw his mind. 'Ya did this ta me, Chris, ya promised I wouldn't hang and then ya ran out on me. I'm dead 'cause of yer cowardice Larabee. Strung up like some mangy dawg. All yer fault ya bastard!' The cold dead eyes lacked the luster they held in life and somehow the gunslinger knew he'd never see them again.
"No, Vin, I didn't. I didn't run out on you," his weak voice echoed around the cavern. He coughed against the dryness of his throat, crying out as the movement pulled on his tethered limbs. His body shook as he rode out the pain in his shoulders and back. Breathing deeply, he fought hard to stave off the black curtain. The strong wave of nausea nearly choked him and he lost his battle, his tortured body slumped in defeat.
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"Vin, are you alright?" Wilmington asked worriedly.
"It's not me ya gotta worry 'bout, Buck," Tanner answered. "It looks like whoever..."
"What do you mean whoever? I thought we agreed it was Maguire?" Dunne asked.
"Look, JD, Chris has a lot of enemies out there and I think we'd best be ready for anythin'. I think it is Maguire but I want ta be sure. We can't just go inta this thinkin' it's that salesmen. We need ta find 'em and make sure we get Chris back in one piece," the tracker said. He bent low to the ground and found the tracks he was looking for. "Looks like he headed this way," he said and mounted Peso. He could hear the others do the same and he lead them away from his best friend's home. Something was different about the little shack, something he couldn't place his hands on. A shiver of dread ran down his spine as he thought of never sitting on the front porch and sharing a drink with the enigmatic gunslinger.
A drop of rain landed on the tracker's hand and he prayed the rain wouldn't get to the point where it washed away the tracks. 'Please, God, let us find him 'fore it's too late,' he thought as more drops joined the one rolling down his hand.
Five men with a single purpose rode north away from Four Corners. That purpose was to find their leader and make whoever took him realize the error of their actions. Five sets of eyes glared angrily skywards as the clouds opened up and rain fell heavily around them. Determined to continue they pulled up their collars and hunkered down in their saddles as they raced after the sharpshooter.
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Maguire sat on a blanket by the small fire, watching the unconscious man's labored breathing. 'Such perfection,' he thought. 'He will live on through me. Through you my strength will grow, my life will be extended and I can fulfil my destiny,' he smiled at the gunslinger. "Our destiny will be fulfilled and our lives shall be one." He checked the blade of the thin knife in the embers, more than satisfied when he saw the white heat pulsating off the metal. His earlier victims left him with an empty feeling inside, as if they lacked what he needed and their final death throes did nothing to earn them his respect. "You will, won't you, Chris?" he asked, tapping the pale cheek, his finger trailing along the furrow he'd made along Larabee's chest. He pressed firmly and elicited a low moan from the bound man. "It's time to wake up Chris," he whispered in the gunslinger's ear. "It's time to feel the fires of hell, feel them ignite on your bare skin. It's time for you to scream," his soft voice promised. "Oh not the final scream, it's much too early for that, but this will be the first of many screams that will be dragged from your throat."
Larabee opened his eyes and tried to pull away from the hand touching his chest. "B...bastard!" he swore angrily. His weak voice still conveyed the strength of his soul and the promise he'd made earlier. He smiled as he saw the other man flinch slightly. "Will...kill...you," he warned.
Maguire swallowed deeply, amazed that even beaten, whipped and tied up this man still conveyed a strength and determination he'd never seen before. "I'm not afraid, Chris. I'm awed at your strength. I now know I made the right choice!" He once more pulled the scalpel from his pocket and sliced a thin line down the palm of his left hand. He watched as his own crimson fluid ran down his arm before placing the blade at the prisoner's left hand.
Chris felt the blade cut into his palm but didn't make a sound. The pain was minor compared to the other agony in his body. Every fiber of him was repulsed, when the madman sealed their bond in blood.
"Ah, Chris, now we are well and truly joined. Brothers by blood as well as destiny," the evil man laughed as his own blood mixed with Larabee's. "Our lives are forever joined, our souls destined to meet time and again in lifetimes to come." He released the gunslinger's hand and turned back to the fire. "I'm afraid the next part of the ritual is going to hurt you more than it does me."
He watched as the fire sparkled off the edge of the knife the madman pulled from the fire. The blade glowed with its own heat and light as his captor slowly walked towards him. Larabee couldn't help but cringe as the blade was placed before his eyes.
"I can see by the light in your eyes that you've experienced a hot blade before. The beauty of it is that the wounds will be cauterized immediately as long as I don't make them too deep," the face lit up expectantly as he lowered the blade to the gunslinger's abdomen. "Just feel the heat of fire, Chris," he whispered as he slowly, but forcefully drove the blade into the taut flesh of his victim's stomach. His eyes lit up in malicious glee as the bound man cried out.
An intense pain lanced through his stomach, igniting the agony in the rest of his body. He fought to get away, but his struggles were in vain.
Maguire withdrew the blade from the shallow wound and placed it on the writhing man's inner thigh.
Chris felt the fight slowly leaving his body as again and again the grinning man placed the blade against his body.
Maguire continued cutting and burning him at the same time. He knew he had to possess the gunslinger's soul. "Pain is a wonderful way to show a man how much he can take before it breaks him, Chris."
The pain continued, driving Larabee to the brink of madness until the glowing blade lost its heat. Chris sagged against the cords holding his hands, feeling the blood flow freely down his arms. He knew without looking that his wrists were torn and raw from his struggles to get away from the madman before him.
"Was that good for you, Chris?" Maguire's face was filled with awe as he watched the blond man. The resemblance to his first victim, his father, was amazing. The blond hair, the green eyes, the handsome face, the taut muscles were so much like the man who'd beaten him. Yet that was where the similarities ended. Where his father was a cruel, malicious man who enjoyed beating on his son, Chris Larabee was a man with a tortured past. A man who lost his family to a senseless act of a woman whose love he didn't return.
He continued to watch as the green eyes slid closed, knowing that his victim was stronger than most men faced with such loss. He proved that strength time and again by rising above the tragedy. Maguire was able to see the vulnerable side of the man in black the moment he felt those intense green eyes light on him in town. "I'll leave you to reflect on your pain, Chris. I won't even force the Nightshade on you right now because I can see you're in enough pain without it. I'll be back in a couple of hours," he promised.
Larabee watched through hooded eyes as the man left the cavern, leaving him to suffer his pain alone. He looked up at the cords above his head and once more tried to pull his hands free. The only thing he succeeded in doing was cause himself more pain. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift towards exhausted sleep. There was nothing he could do until he rested and let his body regain some strength. 'I'll get you, Maguire,' he vowed as darkness beckoned once more.
TBC