In which Infinite Realms could have gone quite differently...
A warning:
I did the research
Torture
The villagers lifted Sam and began to bind her with rope. All the while she screamed about their idiocy, their small-mindedness, how all they had to do was open their eyes...
Vlad Masters sauntered forward. Ah, the five months he'd spent here in this primitive hellhole were suddenly made worth it. And here was young Daniel come to save his idiot girlfriend from the fires. Except, no, she had already been wreathed in blood blossoms. He would never be able to save her, forced to watch her burn alive in front of his eyes.
Except, wait... The boy Tucker shot forward to eat the flowers. Vlad grabbed his shirt and dragged him back. "Oh but good people," Vlad called over the din. "Why should we be so quick to burn her?"
The townsfolk turned on him, confused and a little suspicious.
"Consider the words coming from her addled brain," Vlad said. "She may merely be bewitched. She is dressed like a wanton, maybe she's just a common scold who's lost her mind to the monster writhing on the ground before her?"
The mob began to murmur. Vlad recognized the anticipation. He kept his grip on the Foley boy even as Tucker relaxed, as the torch was pulled away from his friend. She wasn't going to be burned. Not today.
"Nightingale," Vlad barked.
"Sir!"
Vlad turned anticipatory eyes to the witch hunter in the impressively large orange coat. John Fenton-Nightingale had the same look of wanting. "Weave a wreath of blood blossoms," Vlad purred. "The ghost boy will suffer the wounds of the Lord ere he's put down. As for the scold... I'm thinking the dunking stool."
"And if she's unclean?" Nightingale asked. "I mean, if she survives she must be possessing an unholy pact with that black and white spirit in the circle."
"Then we'll just have to find out what her pact is," Vlad said.
"Wait, what do you mean 'if' she survives?!" Tucker demanded. "You're going to kill her!"
"Eventually," Vlad said. "We should see if there's a way to cleanse this one, too. I'm sure somebody could use a field hand."
"Yes, my son Damien and his wife Anthea could use the help," Nightingale said. "Newlyweds and all."
"Of course, of course. Meanwhile I'm sure we can find someplace for this one. I'll lock him in the joggs, you tend to the ghost."
"Yes, Sir, Vladdy!" Nightingale said, bounding off toward the mob.
"That's kind of eerie," Tucker said.
"You have no idea," Vlad agreed.
Still, Tucker struggled as Vlad dragged him away, as he could still hear the pained screams and ranting shouts of his best friends.
-00000-
Tucker leaned against the wall of the stone building. The iron collar around his neck itched. It was heavy, too, and he couldn't get it off. Worse, the chain was so short he couldn't sit down. "Man, this bites," he lamented.
"It is not spiked," said a voice Tucker knew and yet didn't. "Are you a demon then who cannot stand the purity of iron?"
Tucker glared at the old guy who looked and sounded so much like Jack Fenton. "It's an expression," he snapped.
"I see," Nightingale said. "You came with the scold and the spectral menace, perhaps you can tell me something."
Tucker glared.
"When I placed the wreath of blood blossoms upon the brow of the ghost it fainted and enfolded itself within a human guise. What puzzles me, though, is why that guise looks so much like the form of my son Damien."
Tucker's glare melted into confusion.
"Now I cannot parade about the specter as I should for fear of it taking its human guise. There is already enough talk of our family being cursed. All the best witch hunters are cursed, you see. And I am the very best in this colony. The... only in this colony but that's beside the point."
"What is your point?" Tucker asked.
"What do you know of the creature's guise?" Nightingale demanded.
Tucker crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"You're resisting, aren't you."
Tucker nodded.
Nightingale lit up with a great smile. "Oh goody, this'll be so much fun! I have so many inventions I've never had the chance to try! You have no idea how boring it is living in a colony where we burn all our witches. Never get a chance to use all the neat torture devices I invent!"
Tucker gulped. This was... bad.
-00000-
It wasn't just bad. It was worse.
A dull, blinding pain lanced through Tucker as he tried not to move. The weights tied to his feet were not helping one iota.
"I call it the Nightingale Horse," Nightingale shouted from below him. Tucker glared down with hazy pain-filled eyes at the man in orange standing ten feet below him. "I figure two hours a day to start with. We don't want to damage you permanently. And this way you can still talk, unlike the scold you so innocently call your 'friend'."
"What do you mean 'unlike Sam'?!" Tucker demanded.
"Why, she's locked into a scold's bridle until the dunking stool is built," Nightingale dismissed. "Her voice is quite grating. And she must be bewitched if 'shouting' is her only mode of speaking. Everyone knows only shrews and scolds shout, ever."
Tucker shifted, trying to do something. He shrieked as the point of the horse bit into him.
"But tell me, how does this make you feel? I've always wanted to know."
"Why not get on it," Tucker scowled.
Nightingale gave a distasteful look and gestured to someone on the ground. The weighted ropes dangling from Tucker's feet were pulled, wrenching a scream from him. "I'll ask you once more," Nightingale said, glaring. "How does this make you feel."
Tucker glared right back. It didn't last long as the ropes were pulled again and the world began to fall. Vaguely he heard someone screaming and then a thud.
Nightingale slapped a hand over his face as Tucker passed out and was dragged off the horse. He glared at the two idiots who were supposed to be pulling the ropes. "No, no, no, you artless wagtails, you're supposed to pull in tandem," he snapped. "Otherwise the subject falls off!"
-00000-
Danny came to, exhausted. For some reason his arms ached and he itched all over. His eyes burned as he opened them to face someone he knew all too well. He hawked a loogie and spat, aiming right for the eyes.
Vlad pulled back but not fast enough. He wiped the saliva from his eye. "Well then," he said. He gestured and the ropes began to tighten.
Danny looked around, confused. He realized his wrists were tied together behind his back as they were raised behind him. He struggled, trying to undo them as his arms were folded back as far as they would go. And still the rope tightened, lifting his feet off the floor as his shoulders went from ache to silent scream. "Dammit, Vlad, you sick fuck!" Danny shouted. "I'm going ghost!"
Vlad placed a necklace of blood blossoms over Danny's head just as his hair turned white. Pain lanced through him as the itching turned to outright fire, all but overshadowing the pain in his shoulders. He screamed and writhed even as a sickening pop suddenly had one shoulder twisted unnaturally.
"Must you make such a big production about this?" Vlad drawled. "Just give me the map and this will all be over. You'll be able to save your little friends before they become... irreparably damaged. Who knows, you might even discover a portal back to the Ghost Zone on your own. Maybe in a few years you'll be able to go home."
Danny kicked at Vlad, trying to at least bloody him a little.
Vlad caught Danny's boot and pulled. A second pop heralded Danny's other shoulder dislocating. White rings appeared around his waist but didn't go anywhere. Vlad gestured again and Danny was lowered back to the floor.
Danny fell to his knees, hurting too much to stand. He didn't entirely know what was going on when a double-edged steel spike was fitted between his chest and his chin, holding his head up.
"Keep his arms tied," Vlad commanded. "If the specter manages to expel the fork just put it back. We don't want him passing out."
Danny glared at Vlad as the man sauntered off.
-00000-
The first thing Sam did when the scold's bridle was removed was demand water. The mob laughed though she wasn't entirely sure why until...
"What do you think you're doing?!" she demanded. "You can't do this to me! I'm not a witch! You're all just stupid! Let me go!"
"The scold isn't very smart," Nightingale observed.
"Doesn't seem like it," Vlad agreed. "Perhaps her idiocy is what allowed her to be enthralled to the specter."
"She might even be a changeling," Nightingale said, growing excited. "They tend to be outspoken idiots. Ooo, I hope so. I've never seen a changeling get dunked. I wonder if she'll sink at all."
"Shall we unweight the chair so you can see?" Vlad asked.
Nightingale sighed wistfully. He ordered the girl to be tied to the chair and the dunking apparatus wheeled to the edge of the river. "Maybe after we get some sort of confession out of her," he said.
"You can't be serious!" Sam cried. "I'm not a witch! I'm not a witch! You can't do this to me!"
"Drop her!" Nightingale shouted.
The chair was lowered into the river as Sam screamed. A gurgle sounded from the river as she went under.
"Definitely an idiot," Nightingale observed. "She didn't even try to hold her breath." He gestured and the rope was pulled, bringing her back to the surface.
Sam coughed and sputtered as she thrashed in her bonds. Another gesture and she was dunked again to the delight of the mob. A cascade of bubbles streamed to the surface as she screamed underwater and was brought back up.
"Tell me your connection with the spectral menace!" Nightingale shouted.
"He's not a menace!" Sam cried.
Again she fell underwater. She kicked and thrashed on her meager breath, trying to loosen the ropes, pull herself to the surface, anything to avoid the drowning that was sure to come. And then she was brought back up.
"The stool's weighted, my dear Samantha," Vlad purred. "If those weights fall you'll surely float. Nobody as impure as yourself could ever sink properly. And then you'll need to be cleansed in the fire. Keep thrashing and I assure you those weights will come undone."
Sam went still with fear before she went back to her attempts to escape. She went under again, water flooding her nose. She snorted underwater, trying not to loose all her air. Her lungs burned and the world started going dark. And then the sun was back along with the jeering crowd, that man who looked so much like Danny's father, and Vlad's evil, evil eyes. But the anticipation in Nightingale's eyes... Suddenly Sam realized why Danny had never told his parents.
She went under again, this time without thrashing. She closed her eyes and conserved her air. She knew she had to get out of this but she had to be alive to do so. What was it she'd learned in history class? The only way to prove innocence was to drown?
She was brought back up again. And then she realize what she had to do. "The specter's name is Phantom and he has an accomplice!" she shouted.
Nightingale motioned for the boys with the rope to pause. He wanted to hear this.
"The specter's accomplice walks among you in human guise," she shouted. "A demon in pious clothing! None other than your beloved Vladimir Masters!"
The mob grew quiet. Vlad went still as he realized so many eyes were turning to him. And the whispers.
"He did just appear one day."
"His speech was so strange. So much like theirs."
"What if he is one?"
"He did warn us there were witches coming. He's the one who suggested we abandon hanging for burning."
"We have to make sure..."
Vlad backed away even as the mob closed in on him and shoved him into the river. He swam to the surface. "You idiots!" he snarled. "You'd believe anything that came out of a witch's mouth if it meant getting to toy with another soul!" But they were all... looking at him... like that?
Sam giggled from the stool, still held on the surface by the ropes. "Vlad, you float," she said.
Vlad's eyes turned red as the mob began to turn against him. He snarled at them and took to the air before taking his ghost form. The screams were music to his ears but the symphony only lasted so long before Nightingale started trying to ward him away with those damned blood blossoms. Vlad swooped down and phased Sam off the dunking stool even as the rope was dropped and the chair sank out of sight.
"Not so fun from this angle is it, Vlad," Sam taunted.
Vlad growled at her and let her drop so he was carrying her by her ankle. "Samantha Manson, I will drop you back in the river," he warned. "Thanks to your little stunt I now have to grab Daniel before the mob finds him. Do you have any idea what they'll do to an artifact like that map?"
"All you care about is the stupid map!" Sam shouted. She grabbed her skirt and tried to hide her panties from his view. "And don't look down!"
Vlad looked down, visibly disinterested, and looked back as he flew into the church. He dropped Sam among the pews, not caring if she landed uninjured. He smirked at the crack; he guessed that she didn't. He left her there as he descended the steps behind the altar into the catacombs. He found Daniel in a chamber, trapped in his ghost form by the blood blossoms around his neck, the heretic's fork under his throat, the summoning circle around him... Bleary green eyes opened at him, too glazed to properly glare. Vlad stepped forward, staying on the far side of the summoning circle. He grabbed an iron rod from the wall and tore the necklace of flowers away. "Wake up, Daniel," Vlad growled.
Danny closed his eyes and let himself fall out of ghost form. He went limp as he did, the pain overwhelming him. Vlad snarled and used the rob to drag Danny out of the circle, close enough to where he could pull the heretic's fork out of him. Blood welled from where the spikes had penetrated his chest and neck, his arms were stuck in odd angles as his shoulders were still dislocated, and Vlad knew that the boy was sore in so many other ways from various implements used on him. "All you had to do was give me the map," Vlad lamented. "That's all I wanted. Then you and your friends wouldn't have gotten hurt like this."
"Fuck... you..." Danny mumbled.
Vlad chuckled and lifted Danny around his middle before flying away. "I see you still have your fire," Vlad purred. "That's good. That means you'll recover."
Danny struggled weakly, whining as the movement jostled his arms.
"Give me the map, Daniel, and I'll pop your shoulders back in," Vlad offered. "If you don't you'll start to lose feeling. Function. What would it be like to go through like without arms, I wonder..."
"My... my friends..."
"I left them in the dubious care of your father's illustrious ancestor," Vlad allowed.
"You... bastard..."
"They'll be all right," Vlad assured. "The boy will never be able to sire children and the girl almost drowned on her own stupidity. Honestly, if you're being forced underwater you're supposed to hold your breath."
"Hate... you so... much..."
"I know, little badger. The map?"
"No..."
"Then I leave you three here. There are other settlements I can infiltrate. I admit, I never considered I'd be conquering an era that has yet to invent the flush toilet. But if you ignore that and the glaring lack of ice cream... it's not that bad."
Danny glared. Vlad landed them in the forest outside the town. The chants of 'burn the demon, burn the witch, burn the specter' could still be heard on the edge of the trees. Vlad grabbed one of Danny's arms and twisted, setting the joint back together. He clamped his hand over Danny's mouth to try and stifle the scream before pulling away and letting the boy gasp. As soon as angry blue eyes turned back to him he popped the second shoulder back in. Danny's scream broke through Vlad's hand and the chanting paused before changing direction.
Coming closer.
"Give me the map or we die here," Vlad threatened. "They'll burn us both."
Danny glared at Vlad and shook his head.
"Danny!"
Both Danny and Vlad turned to the new shout. Sam was helping a hobbling Tucker through the forest. She waved at them. "Good thing you screamed or we wouldn't have been able to find you!"
"Give me the map or they die too," Vlad said. "Do you really think your father's ancestor would let them go? Especially after what she's said and done?"
Danny looked at his friends. He couldn't... He sighed and pulled the map out of his shirt.
Vlad bowed slightly as he took the map and opened it.
The world changed.