Chapter 18: Throwing Daggers
Before you read: The following contains dubious and/or nonconsensual material. Reader discretion is advised.
Fenton stared straight ahead, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlocked.
"Dad?" Silence.
"I think he's in shock." Biff whispered to Joe.
"Can I get you some water Fenton?" Phil asked. But the Hardy patriarch remained quiet.
"I think maybe your father needs a few minutes to absorb everything you have told him." Amy said quietly. Fenton's dark eyes darted in her direction.
"I think I've had plenty of time to wrap my brain around this." Fenton stood abruptly and walked over to the window to peer down to the street below, but stopped before he touched the curtain. "Right, sunset."
"Believe me Dad, I had a hard time swallowing all of this back in January..." Joe's voice trailed off as Fenton shot his youngest son a look that clearly translated to "stop talking NOW!"
"Why don't we order up some dinner while we try to formulate a plan?" Biff suggested, suddenly remembering that with everything that happened today he had failed to stop and eat.
"Room service is too expensive." Fenton snapped.
"Your dinner will be on my bill Mr. Hardy. I insist." Amy offered. Fenton looked at her and then shook his head.
"I need some air." Joe's father left the room, closing the door with a soft click.
"Should someone go with him?" Phil asked, concerned with the odd look that was on Mr. Hardy's face when he left.
"No, I know that look, that is his "beyond pissed" face." Joe said as he slumped on Biff's bed and ran a hand through his hair again.
"You're going to snatch yourself bald doing that." Phil commented and Joe quickly removed his hand from his hair.
Amy looked at her watch and turned to Biff.
"If you are going to eat, go ahead and order your dinner, pick something out that Mr. Hardy will eat too. I am going to call a few of my friends who kept watch on the hotel last night and ask them to meet me on the roof after dark." Amy then went into Frank's closet and pulled out his laundry bag of worn clothes. She heard Phil make a weak noise in his throat at the sight of Frank's rumpled cotton shirt. "So they can get his scent Phillip." The raven haired boy nodded in understanding.
"I know, I know…" Phil said in a shaky voice. He excused himself to step into the bathroom and closed the door.
"I'm going with you two tonight." Joe insisted, his jaw set in grim determination.
"Like anyone could have stopped you." Biff said as he sat down beside his friend on the bed.
An hour later Fenton walked back into the room. His face was less tense and pinched than it was when he left. But Joe knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. His father was like that. Long after he and his brother had gotten too old to spank or sit in the corner for their misdeeds, their father would walk away, calm down to sort it out, and then return to hand down the appropriate punishment. Suddenly Joe felt he was twelve all over again. Funny how one look from your parents can make you feel so small, no matter how old you get.
"Alright, I think… I think I can understand why you felt justified in not telling me the truth months ago. That doesn't make it hurt any less that you couldn't trust me with this information, no matter how out of this world it appears." Fenton said.
"We were trying to protect you and Mom too, Dad." Joe interjected. Fenton looked like he was going to say something else but stopped. He sat down on the settee near the window and sighed heavily.
"Alright son, well, all of you…I'm obviously… out of my element here." Mr. Hardy began. "So we'll try it your way. Where do we begin?"
…..
Frank stared up at the ceiling above from his place on the bed. There were no floor joists, or pipes to be seen like in your usual basements. Instead it was an arched cement formation. The peeling wallpaper exposed dingy grey cement walls, not cinder block, and not the brick and mortar construction one would expect to find in a building that was build almost two hundred years ago. Based on the clean lines and the out-dated wallpaper, this was definitely a more modern construction, at least from the middle of the last century. There was a small bathroom, whose door was missing, but there looked to be a roughed out shower stall, toilet and an old fashioned sink with exposed plumbing. There were sunken built-in shelves in Eric's corner of the room. Maybe at some point this could have been a fallout shelter.
"I've missed you." Eric said in a hurt voice. Frank ignored him and rolled over to face his own wall, his chains clacked noisily as he did so. His bonds did not have him tethered to the wall like Eric was. He was free to shuffle about the room as he pleased. But for now Frank preferred the comfort and security of his own bed. And he could have cared less right now if all Eric could see was his bare back and bottom.
"Not a day went by that I didn't think about you."
"You just don't get it, do you?"
"I love you Frank."
"But I don't love you, Eric. I'm in love Phil." Frank sat up.
"What can he give you that I can't?"
"With him I can have a life. Not an existence. That's what he can give me. I've asked Phil to marry me Eric. I. Asked. Him. We're getting married this spring. We have a future planned. We want to have a family. A family that includes children, raising them, and watching them grow. I want to grow old with Phil. I want his face to be the last one I see when I leave this world." Frank closed his eyes for just a moment, thinking back to the look on Phil's face as he hovered over Frank the last time they made love.
"I would lay down my life for that man. I have, I've got the scars to prove it! And I would do it all over again. He's done the same for me. Phil proved it by coming to rescue me with Joe and my friends. He's been by my side through every painful step of my therapy.
That's what love is Eric! Putting the ones you love before yourself. Putting their needs before your own... Because of your needs, your wants, I saw a therapist once a week for four months for what you did to me. For raping me! For forcing me to have sex with you for fear you would hurt the people I love. You hurt me Eric! Not just physically, but mentally. I…I still check in with her once a month. We go over the diary I keep of the dreams and nightmares I have. Do you remember what nightmares are like Eric? Ezekiel told me you vampires don't dream." Frank stood and shuffled closer.
"Let me remind you. When you and I dated, you told me you had nightmares about your mother passing away. You had nightmares about your father beating the shit out of you. About the bullies you had in high school when you came out.
I have nightmares about you and me in that prison of a mansion and you are ripping me open from the inside out and burying your fucking teeth into me!" Frank's chest was still heaving with emotion when he finally stopped talking.
They heard a clicking sound and then a heavy "clunk" when the locking mechanism of the door released. His captors came down the stairs. The man was toting a wicker tray with a few lidded food containers. Frank could smell the warm food within and his stomach gave a protest of hunger. The woman (Montana? Gizelle?) followed him, but she was wearing the clothes the brunette had worn into the shop, down to his deck shoes. Frank sat down and covered himself with his pillow, not nearly as comfortable with his nakedness in front of strangers as Eric appeared to be.
"Emile?" Eric struggled to get up from his bed, hissing when the chain touched his skin as he moved. "Please, what has gotten in to you? Why have you chained us up like this? I thought you wanted to help me." Eric pleaded.
"Eric, I am shocked! You wanted me to bring Frank to you, and I did. My end of our arrangement is fulfilled. Yours on the other hand…" Emile set the tray of food at the foot of Frank's bed.
"Who are you?" Frank asked boldly.
"Quoi? Eric has not told you?" Emile looked down to see Frank's red and swollen hand and the flush of emotion across his face.
"Mon dieu! I would have thought this to be a happy reunion. I must admit I was surprised not to see the two of you in a lover's embrace when I came down here. My name is Emile Louvel. This is my good friend Mozelle Ledet." The woman gave a small curtsy.
"What do you want with me?"
"To reunite you with your old lover. He said he would do anything to get you back. So that is what I have done. But my dear Mozelle has discovered that there is more to you than meets the eye. And though I am a hopeless romantic, I am never one to turn away a golden opportunity."
He touched Frank's face and turned it just so, then to the other side. His eyes lit up and he smiled greedily.
"Ahhh… Yes. You will prove quite valuable to me." Emile whispered huskily in his ear and then ran his tongue over the shell of Frank's ear. Disgusted by the man's advances, Frank pushed and struggled to get away from him, knocking into the tray of food and upsetting the contents. Emile sighed and picked up the plastic containers that fell on the floor.
"That, mon ami, was quite unnecessary."
Emile suddenly turned back to Frank and backhanded him across the face. The force of the blow knocked Frank across the bed and his head hit the cement wall. Frank saw stars flash in front of his eyes and his head felt like it was going to explode. His ears rung loudly and it was a few minutes before he could make sense of what was going on around him. He heard Eric shouting, Emile speaking angrily, and then the tray of piping hot food was lifted from the foot of the bed.
"Ah Shit! Emile, not the face!" Mozelle cried out. Emile huffed and took the food back upstairs. Mozelle moved over to Frank to check him out.
"Damn, now I'm gonna have a bump on my head too, but you're not bleeding. Oh well, at least your hair's thick enough to cover it." Mozelle placed a hand on Frank's bare chest. Frank tried to shy away but the woman yanked on his shackles to pull him closer.
"Hush, Lamb. This won't hurt me one bit." She smiled and as her hand came in contact with his skin again, a tingling sensation overcame Frank. Every fiber of his being felt like it was vibrating, shaking and he could not control the way his hands and knees trembled. His toes began to curl and he shut his eyes, gritting his teeth waiting for the sensation that he was a living, breathing earthquake to end. When Mozelle finally released him, Frank could still feel the aftershocks.
"Wha…what d-did you…you d-do tah… to muh…mme?" He opened his eyes and gasped at what he saw before him, his own mirror image.
"How do I look? Do these shorts make my butt look big?" Mozelle giggled. She turned to Eric who was glaring at the shape-shifter. "Oh come on, Eric. Don't tell me that you've never fantasized about lil' ole Frank here having a twin. You know how much fun threesomes can be." She winked in his direction. Eric looked past her to check on Frank.
"Frank? Are you…" But Frank glared and the vampire shut up.
Emile came back down the stairs, his composure back to his suave, cheerful self. He held Frank's wallet in his hand and handed it off to Mozelle.
"Ma chérie, you look good enough to eat." He grabbed Mozelle around the waist and kissed her deeply. Frank had to turn his head to keep himself from gagging. That was not an image he wanted to commit to memory. He heard Eric growl deeply in his throat as the vampire watched the partners' intimate display. Emile broke from the kiss and swatted Mozelle behind playfully.
"Have fun mon cher. Bring home someone pretty." He said as Mozelle smiled and hurried up the stairs.
Alone with his captives, Emile walked over to Frank and grabbed the chain that linked his shackles. Frank struggled and tried to pull away as the man dragged him over to the middle of the room. But he could steadily feel his strength waning and was no match for the surprisingly strong man. The werewolf withdrew a penknife from his pocket and swiftly pierced the skin on the inside of Frank's hip, nicking his brachial artery. Frank screamed out in pain and tried to put pressure on wound despite the awkwardness of the clunky manacles.
"Emile! What are you doing? You're hurting him!" Eric's eyes widened in shock, but already the captivating smell of Frank's blood was drawing him in.
"No Eric. I am merely teaching young Frank a valuable lesson in manners. When food is set before you, you graciously accept it. You are hungry Eric. Show him how a grateful guest is to behave. Feed and then you will heal him." The werewolf commanded.
Eric hesitated, recalling the look on Frank's face when he was pouring his heart out earlier.
"I would hurry if I were you. If he dies I will personally end your debt of servitude sooner than our arrangement entails." Emile hissed.
By now Frank had dropped to the cold, hard floor. Blood was trickling down past his fingers and painting the inside of his leg, his groin and dripping down onto the smooth cement under him.
Eric dropped down to his knees in front Frank.
"Frank, please… you'll bleed to death if I don't." he begged. But Frank looked up to him with unfocused, yet hate-filled eyes.
"I… can live…with that." He managed to say while his head spun and pounded from his injury and blood loss. Eric shook his head sadly.
"Then I'm sorry…" The vampire pushed Frank's shoulder so that the brunette lost his balance, which did not require much effort at this point. His hands inadvertently uncovered the wound as he fell back and Eric latched on to the puncture. Frank could feel the painful suction from Eric's greedy mouth. Yet thanks to the open wound, the vampire's teeth did not rupture his skin.
"No…no…" Frank began to weep helplessly and his knees shook violently. He covered his face with his bloodied hands to block out the world, to block out this moment, the beginning of a new nightmare. Frank then felt Eric's tongue swiping across the wound and the weird sensation of the tissue knitting back together.
Eric licked up the blood that had smeared onto the inside of Frank's leg, his balls and cock. He grabbed Frank's shackled hands and licked them clean. Then Eric took his face in his hands used his tongue to clean Frank's face of the blood and salty tears that had run down the sides of his head.
"It's okay Frank. I'm done. I'm done..." Eric tried to soothe and brushed a tear away with his thumb. Frank was done too. His body and his mind had had enough. Eric saw his eyes roll back and his trembling body finally went limp.
"Frank!" But he could tell by Frank's still strong heart beat that he had merely fainted. A low groan reached Eric's ears and he looked up.
Emile had made his self comfortable on Frank's bed. Really comfortable. He had been pleasuring himself while Eric had fed and cleaned Frank. Emile caught Eric staring at him, mouth slack in shock.
"Quoi? You know I like to watch. Are you not going to finish?"
"No." Eric growled, lifting Frank and holding him protectively to his chest. Emile shrugged and tucked himself back into his pants.
"Suit yourself. Enjoy the time that you have together." Emile turned off the light and climbed back up the stairs, leaving Eric to wonder what he had meant by that.
….
Author's Note:
I've got to get something off my chest because it's been bothering me.
When I wrote SN, Hersher State Park was a product of my imagination based on bits and pieces of state parks I researched on the internet. That said, since I am writing about a building that does exist in real life, I have no clue whether or not the Pontalba Buildings in New Orleans have basements or not. I've researched Google, and have come up with nothing to confirm or deny this. It is probably safe to say they don't, due to the level of the water table in that part of Louisiana.
I had initially wanted to stow Frank and Eric in an attic or upper level of the building, but that might make it too easy for roof-hopping Biff and Amy to locate them.
I say all this simply to cover my butt incase any of you are NOLA residents or have been there and know more about those buildings, since it's been well over ten years since I've been there.
Whew, I feel better now.