#it is a horribly distinct smell. one that causes me pain for my sensitive nose.

[hollowsart]

EUGEUGUEHUGHGHH SKUNK AGAIN.

@ most of the world: I’m so envious of you.. you have no idea what skunk stench is like.. gosh I wish that was me.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 14: No Call No Show

Characters: Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: We find out where Shane went Monday after work and exactly why she hasn’t been responding to any attempts at communication…and unfortunately, she’s not just taking some “me time.”

Want to reminisce about when this was just a happy little fluffy romance? Return to chapters past, or look at my other smutty drabbles here!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  SHANE FIGHTS BACK, BUT DEFINITELY GETS HER ASS KICKED, SO FAIR WARNING, IT’S VIOLENT. Language, mature themes, emotional abuse, mention of narcotics (morphine), vomiting, foreshadowing and mention of potential future violent/non-con/dub-con activities, but if those acts occur, they will not be portrayed on the page, but rather between chapter or section breaks, so don’t worry. Also, I use the “R” word, but not to discuss non-con, but rather to add an educational note about why one should yell “fire” when one is being assaulted. Basically no Sy material whatsoever, but he’s mentioned, so I’m tagging it as such! Shane being somewhat blasé about her mortality. I really don’t want to trigger anyone, so please read with caution or wait until you emotionally are ready to deal with our girl going through the shit.

Author’s Note: Really REALLY nervous about this one. This is not the resolution you are looking for, my friends. In fact, it’s not a resolution, at all. Lol. I foresee many people disliking this chapter for some reason or another. That’s actually okay. It’s not a chapter you’re meant to “like” per se. I don’t “like” it. I’m prepared for it to get very few notes, and I’m positioning it anyway. I think it’s some of my better writing, but I hated putting Shane through the ringer like this. It’s just one of those chapters you “get through.” And honestly, if you truly didn’t like it please give me feedback so I can improve and tweak. {For reasons other than “My beebeeeeee!” or “never mention anything less than consensual ever again kthxbye” because a) of all, MY beebee too, and b) of all, that’s what warnings are for and why they should be read.} That being said, I hope it at least tides you over until the next chapter. At least you know where she is…not that THAT’S a big relief under the circumstances! Lol!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Previously, in Virginia…

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. "

"I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her."

Three days earlier, in Missouri…

Shane blinked her eyes open to little avail. She couldn't tell where she was, other than what seemed to be the back seat of a fairly new-model large vehicle, like a Suburban or a Tahoe. She thought it was new because the new car smell was still overpowering the nicotine and tobacco odor of at least one of its occupants. She could also smell the sickly sweet stench of artificial cherry permeating the cabin. The source must be very close to her nose as she lay there helplessly restrained while the vehicle jostled down the road. The smell reminded her of the horrible liquid pain reliever her mother would give her as a child when she had a fever or leg pains. She had taken enough of it then to make her averse to most cherry flavorings as an adult. She wanted to retch.

She could also make out the faint glow of a dashboard lit with LED lights, brighter and softer than those of older models. But she soon had to shut her eyes again. Her head was throbbing and her memories were fuzzy. She remembered very little of Monday…was it still Monday? But she was trying to think, despite the pounding of many drums in her cranium where a brain should be.

She remembered staying at work late to finish notes. She remembered heading home…and she remembered forgetting her phone at her desk and deciding to turn around to get it…when suddenly she was surrounded by vehicles and unable to move without having an accident. Had she known the circumstances then, she would have tried to muscle through. The horrific events came flooding back in traumatic flashes like lightning, or the pulse of passing streetlights in an unfamiliar city.

She remembered…

The glass by her left ear shattered. A hooded, hulking figure reached in through the new opening, fumbling for the handle to open the door. She'd had the presence of mind to fight back there. To punch at the probing extremity. But the extremity hit back, landing a solid smack against her left cheek, stunning her for long enough that the cruel apparition found the unlock button, pressed it, and opened the door. She didn't go quietly. She fought like the hellcat her mother always told her to be. Her foot found the odd solar plexus and groin before enough dark nemeses arrived to overpower her. They dragged her away from her car and out onto the pavement of the church parking lot she'd used to turn around. She did not make it easy for them. She kicked and punched and tried to twist out of their grips like vices. She yelled "fire" as she was taught as a young woman, not knowing the men's intentions, but certain they weren't kind, and knowing that yelling "rape" was not always effective at summoning help. Either way, it didn't matter. She could have shouted anything. No one was near enough, or cared enough, to come to her aid. As soon as her soft hands hit the gritty pavement, though, the violence intensified. She lost count of how many times she got kicked in the back, stomach, ribs. One asshole even kicked her in the tit. She'd find out who that was and he'd find himself in a special brand of pain…if she ever got out of this alive. She heard them calling her awful names that she was sure she hadn't earned, and especially not from these guys. About six of them, she thought. She hardly knew six guys. She certainly didn't know six guys that would want her roughed up like this. She heard one of the men start to say "Come on, guys, we better save some for--" and with that, she blacked out to the tune of the distinct "thunk" of a wooden baseball bat making contact with the back of her head.

She wanted to forget…for it to be a terrible nightmare…to wake up.

But she was awake. This was a waking nightmare. The cold leather on her cheek was made colder by the harsh air conditioning blowing toward her from above and below. She shivered from the chill and from the terror she was trying to suppress. Where were they taking her? For what purpose? And for whom were they leaving parts un-bruised…though it didn't feel like it.

She finally felt them slowing, heard a turn signal clicking, the courtesy of which she applauded despite her position in the active abduction taking place, and felt the gentle displacement of her body toward the driver side, knocking her head into the door. A right turn. Not that it would matter too much, but at least when she escaped, and she made herself think "when" and not "if," she would know which direction to turn to get back to town.

The blow to the head had left her sensitive to light and sound. As she was yanked from the back seat, all she could see was the glow of a dusk to dawn light above them. Normally a soft, guiding light, this one just as well have been the sun itself the way it stung her tender eyes. She squinted against it, thankful as she never would have thought to be, when a shroud was placed over her throbbing head. She could still hear the power coursing through the bulb and fixture, though. Normally a dull hum, in the state she was in, it was as loud as accidentally switching your TV to the snow channel at full volume.

"Bring 'er inside." She heard an unfamiliar male voice say.

Two strong, ruthless hands grabbed her by the armpits, causing her to cry out in pain. Such a tender place to bear weight, and why even big strong Sy hated crutches…Sy. Would she ever see him again?

"Shut up, bitch, or we'll knock you out again." She believed them, and being fairly certain she had at least a mild  concussion, she wasn't sure what a second blow of an indeterminate velocity might do to her brain. She dealt with the stabbing pain as the men dragged her across what sounded like gravel, then grass, then something hard and smooth, maybe the slabs of an old, sunken, and somewhat uneven footpath. Soon, she felt the pain of her knees hitting what she assumed were porch steps. One, two, three of them. She was trying to concentrate through the fog now setting in, and maintain consciousness. Paying attention to the sensations, she told herself, was not only helpful for that task, it might help her escape. Remember the scents, too, she reminded herself. She tried to shake off the nauseating cherry and cigarette stench from her olfactory glands and take note of the bouquet around her.

Burnt leaves…gasoline…engine grease…the tang of sappy, just cut firewood…straw…manure…this seemed to be a farm. With a barn nearby…perhaps with horses. She loved horses. If she could find a gentle horse in the night…escape might be easier than she'd anticipated.

Entering the house was a noisy affair. There was a metallic keening from the spring of an aluminum screen door. She imagined it had one of those big swirly cross beams like her grandma's used to have that she always though was supposed to resemble a butterfly. A heavier, wooden door creaked open as the three figures muddled their way in, and the floorboards protested, as well, at the weight of her captors. So, she thought, not only a farm house, but an old farm house.

"Where do you want her?" the man on her left asked into what she only knew as the void, so far.

"Take her to the cellar. I've got things set up down there." a familiar voice chuckled and growled. How did she know the voice? Was he a patient? She couldn't think of anyone she'd treated that would want her abducted and brutalized.

"You got it, E." Ugh, for some reason it bothered her when guys referred to each other by their first initials. Girls, no big deal. But bros…there was something so thoroughly douchey and…familiar about it all…

"Hold on." the man called "E" said, and she heard footfalls approaching her. As he got closer, she smelled…patchouli and incense…and the sea…and it brought back a rush of pain from past trauma followed by literal pain from his punch to her gut. She hadn't been expecting it. Obviously. The wind had been taken out of her. Literally and figuratively. She did know this man…all too well.

"We've got some catching up to do, sweetheart." the pet name dripped like venomous honey from the tongue of the snake before her.

"Elliot." it wasn't a question. She coughed the name out like a pill that had gone down sideways.

Her escorts continued their transportation of her prone body to its destination…she didn't want to think FINAL destination, but the more she learned about her situation, the more she worried that she wouldn't make it out alive.

They had to get creative in carrying her down the narrow staircase to the cellar. They argued for a moment about who would take the top half and who would go backwards.

"How about the one who takes my top half goes forward and the bottom half goes backward?" These idiots. Where did Elliott find clowns like this who needed to be told by their prisoner the best way to sort out their domestic dispute.

She thought she felt them shrug, and silently take her advice as she felt herself being lowered down the stairs, feet first, panic threatening to overtake her restrained limbs.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they stood her up to remove her shroud, and cut the zip ties from around her ankles and wrists. She then noticed a small cell that reminded her of the ones in the sheriff's offices in some westerns she'd seen. She started to freak out, anticipating her future in that horrid place.

"Guys, please. No. Please don't do this. I don't know what Elliott's told you about me, but I'm a good person. I don't deserve this. I have a job and friends and a family who will worry sick about me. I am begging you to let me go. Please!"

"You're wasting your breath, lady." one of the men said, gruffly.

"PLEASE!" she appealed, desperate to get through. "Don't you guys have wives or girlfriends? Mothers, sisters, aunts, or female cousins? What if a woman you cared about was in this situ---" and before she could finish the question, one of the men punched her for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. She fell to her knees, vomiting. And the world went black again.

~~~~~~~

There were no windows. There was no clock. There was just a small twin mattress in one corner of the cell, and a bedside commode in the other. As accommodations went, it was hardly a Hilton, but it could have been worse. It was all lit by a 60-watt bulb in one of those hanging fixtures her dad had always called a trouble light situated on a hook on the side of one of the exposed joists outside the cell. He'd had a similar one for the longest time. He and mom will be worried sick before long, if they aren't already, she thought. The light was aptly named for these circumstances she was in. Trouble. A heap of it. And no idea of how to get out of it.

And honestly, no idea why Elliott would want her here. How he could do such a monstrous thing as having her kidnapped. How he came to live in this place when he never worked a day in his life. She was so confused. She hoped at the very least, he'd give her answers before he murdered her, if that was his plan.

She had woken up on her side, almost her stomach, with her right cheek on the scratchy surface of the bare mattress. Whoever put her to bed had been wise to position her like this given the likelihood that she might puke again. She noticed a small bucket, presumably for that purpose, next to the mattress. There was a caseless pillow next to her head, but she hadn't found that comfort during her nap of…she couldn't tell how long. Not that it mattered. The more she slept, the less time she'd have to process this horror movie she was currently living out.

She heard the door open at the top of the stairs and Elliott shout at one of his flunkies, "What do you MEAN you didn't get her phone?" a pause while indistinct words came from said flunky across the room, or maybe the house. "Well, find it. Tear that piece of shit Explorer apart if you have to. I want that phone." She took exception to her sweet little Norah getting called a piece of shit. That was her Millennium Falcon. And yes, she'd gotten flack for naming her Norah the Explorer, but she didn't care.

Elliott stomped down the stairs, grinning the most infuriatingly happy grin she'd ever seen on him. She wanted to maul him. To tear those stupid eyes out of their sockets with her own fingernails. But she controlled her anger and resisted even acknowledging his greeting of "Hey, sweetheart."

She ignored him.

"It's good to see you."

Silence.

"I missed you."

She stared right through him.

"I heard you and that meat head soldier broke up."

She scowled at him.

"There she is. There's my girl."

"I'm not your girl, Elliott, and I haven't been in years. Why am I here?" She broke. She couldn't take it.

"We'll get to that why soon enough. First, let's talk about why you and Cap'n Crunch are no longer breakfasting together? Soggy cereal? Limp toast? Was he letting you leave the table unsatisfied?"

"As if you ever satisfied me when we were together." She spat back, calling Elliott out on his notorious selfishness in all aspects of life and relationships.

"I've changed."

"Bullshit." she rolled her eyes.

"It's true!" he insisted. "I can give you references."

"I honestly don't give a shit. We're not together. Sy and I are. Happily. And you better let me go soon. He was expecting me at his place after work. He's probably out looking for me right now." she lied. It was worth a shot.

"Now it's my turn to call bullshit, because I know that isn't true." He looked at her with that patronizing stare he had.

"You don't know shit, Elliott."

"I know that your boy took off over a week ago for Virginia and hasn't come back, at least not the way he left. I believe he's supposed to be gone at least a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. He wasn't sure at last report."

She was literally willing him to burst into flames before her. Her gaze revealed her hand.

"Told ya. You think you're the only one with connections at the fort? I've got me a sweet little sergeant who works in ATC over there. She can out-squat anyone else on base…and let me tell you, it shows." he lifted his eyebrow, lasciviously.

"You disgust me."

"Why? You never seemed to mind my…sexy imagination." he winked at her.

"No, I'm happy that you're getting it good on the regular from an ass that won't quit. But come on. You clearly only got with this girl because you thought it would give you the upper hand against me."

"Well, that's very self-absorbed thinking."

"Really, Elliott? Do you see where we are right now?" they looked around at the dank cellar and he shrugged, unable to deny or rebut. "And this woman. Does she know about this little scheme?"

He gave her one of his more evil grins. "Who do you think kicked you in the tit?" Okay…she was new levels of pissed off now.

"Why…the actual FUCK am I here, Elliott!?"

"Well, Shane, you embarrassed me with that little stunt at the bar a few weeks ago. You thought you were hot shit, parading your sasquatch of a boyfriend around in front of me, in my town, humiliating me as all of my friends watched. And then that dickhead sucker punched me in the parking lot. I shoulda pressed charges. But him being a veteran, I knew how that woulda gone in this town. I didn't have a snowball's chance. So I waited. And I planned. And I was patient. And I watched for my moment. And it finally came. I've been watching you leave work every night for the past week, and you're always with someone, or headed somewhere else, or going straight home. Last night…last night I knew was the night when you didn't leave until after 7. You were the last one out, and I knew that it had to be then. The plan, not that you need to know, is to plaster your social media with humiliating photos, piss off everyone that you love, including your precious Sy, and alienate everyone you've ever cared about until you're miserable and alone."

Shane was crying now. She thought she might be sick again. She reached for the bucket. The delusion of this man thinking that anyone in that bar besides maybe the ones that were there with him that night gave a shit about him. Thinking that the town was his. He was a nobody there. He hadn't grown up there, he didn't work there, he didn't participate in community events. He was kidding himself if he thought anyone cared enough about him that he should feel shame over her relationship with Sy, especially five years after their relationship with each other had ended.

"How's that for a 'why,' sweetheart?" he boasted.

"It's making my ask myself a lot of questions. Like why I ever agreed to go out with you all those years ago. Why I didn't see the signs that you were a psychopath sooner. And why I put up with your terrorism for so long thinking you'd ever really change. I can't believe I ever slept with you, you absolute barbarian." and she heaved into the bucket, non-productively. She hadn't eaten since lunch, and that had to be well over twelve hours ago.

"Well, ya did. And ya can't change the past. But I'm about to take your future into my hands. As soon as we find your phone, we're gonna have us a ball, little girl."

"You honestly think I'll cooperate with any of that?"

"You won't have a choice." he held up a little glass vial. "Morphine. A tiny dose of this stuff, and you'll do anything I tell ya."

"Please. Just let me go now, and I won't press charges. I won't go to the cops, at all. I'll call in to work with a headache, or something and you can live your life with Sergeant Squats and we can leave each other alone."

"A good offer, but I need to get something out of this. I need my pride back."

"And you're gonna get that by dragging me through the mud online from my own Facebook account? Is that really the way you wanna do this? When you could just show me what a great life you've built for yourself. This is a great place here, it seems, I mean, I only smelled it, and felt how big it was while I was getting dragged around the place. But, Elliott, if you had just told me about all this, I would have been happy for you!"

"This place is Sasha's."

"Oh." she grasped for something, anything to make him see how insane he was being without saying the words. "Well, I'd still have been happy for you finding an established woman with a great job. Why couldn't you have just written me a letter telling me that? An email! Something."

"This is how it's getting done, Shane. Because this is the only way that truly ruins your life in the process. Because at the end of all of this, the backlash is going to be too much for you, and you're not going to be able to handle this life anymore…"

"No. Elliott, no."

"Yes. You're gonna take one last hit of the morphine and drive that shitty Ford right into the lake."

"You used to care about art. About beauty. You used to be sensitive. You used to have a soul. What happened, Elliott? What happened to your humanity?" Shane asked, crying, in mourning for the man he used to be. The one that she used to care for.

"I fell in love. And she broke my heart. And nothing has been the same."

"Elliott, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, fuck, not you, don't be stupid. No, Kara. I met her right after you kicked me out, and SHE broke my heart." he  turned and started up the stairs, pausing to look over his shoulder and say, "I'll be back when I have your phone. And I'll bring friends." before he ascended, shutting the door firmly behind him.

She had never been so relieved to NOT have her phone in her life. Hopefully, her coworkers had it safe and sound, and locked up at work.

Up Next: Chapter 15-Recon

[lomlwintersoldier]

Castle of the Black

Part 2: Reclaimed

Summary: Your once thriving planet has been taken over by monsters that had once only been creatures of fiction. Now, ten years after the Great Darkness that brought these creatures, you must fight for your life to survive the horrors of the castle of your captor.

Word Count: 2230

Warnings: language, sensitive topics

A/N: Sorry for such a late update guys! Life just gets in the way sometimes. Anyways I hope you like this next installment and are as excited as I am for this series!! xx

You’d never seen so many in your life. Some sat atop jet black horses and others stood beside them but they all had the same red eyes, angry and bloodthirsty.

Your breath catches as you glare into the eyes of the demon in front of you. His crimson eyes scan your entire face but you hold fast, your hand tightening on the sword at your hip, ready to fight the second he made his move.

He seems to lose interest in you as he moves on from you and just as he turns his back, you draw your sword before he has time to react and with one fast strike, you sever his head from his body.

Small snickers come from the crowd of demons in front of you and your brow furrows in confusion at their response. And when you look back behind you, you know why; much to your horror, you see the demon grasping his own head between sickly gray hands and plant it back in it’s places, the skin knitting together with sickening pops.

That’s when all hell breaks loose. Your friends suddenly rush the demon crowd, hacking and slashing but you know it’s useless.

They’ll just keep putting themselves back together until we’re all dead, you think to yourself in horror, but still you fight. You can’t let them fight this battle by themselves but as more of you fall, a horrible sense of dread fills you.

“Peter!” You scream, looking for your only member of your family. You scan the fighting crowd and almost sob in relief to see him still standing, fighting them with all the strength he has. You rush over to him but you don’t get far; one of the demon grabs you by your neck and slams you to the ground, causing all the breath to leave your lungs in a painful rush. You cry out but the demon holds you against the wet dirt, choking the life from you. Your eyesight goes in and out, blurring and darkening as you struggle to hold on to life.

“That’s enough, Reznor.” One of the other demons snarls, kicking the smaller one, Reznor, off of you. You suck in a breath the second his cold hands are off your throat and roll to your side, pulling yourself up onto your knees so you’re not a defenseless damsel. The older demon smiles at you, but it’s not a reassuring one; he looks at you with malice and desire, and you glare angrily up at him, daring him to try something.  “I’m sure we can find use for this one.” You spit at his feet. “I’d rather you kill me now.” “But that’s such a waste of such a pretty face.” The demon caresses your cheek. As his pale fingers trace over your lips you snarl and bite, earning a harsh growl from him, and he slaps you straight across your face. “Bitch. I’ll have to teach you some manners when we return.” He grabs you by your hair and you cry out; he drags you to the center where the rest of them have gathered a few others. While you’d been fighting your own battles, you saw the rest had lost theirs. Most of the villagers lay dead, bodies and limbs scattered in the mud.

You’re placed beside three other girls and you almost breathe a sigh of relief when you see Peter, gagged, kneeling next to a few other boys who are also being gagged, but a horrible sense of dread sinks into you as you realize this is only the beginning of a long and painful existence. Still you’re just glad to see Peter alive. His cheek is cut and he looks like he’s seen hell but when he notices you looking at him, he gives you a reassuring nod. We’ll be okay, his eyes say.

You nod back but just as you turn back to what’s in front of you, a hard slap is delivered to your cheek. You nearly fall to the side at the impact and immediately whirl back on your attacker, hissing.

You're eyes meet with a blonde, long haired man, thin and sickly and you instantly feel an intense hatred for him but you don’t have much time to think as he roughly shoves a gag in your mouth, causing you to suck in a harsh breath.

“Pay attention, love. I won’t waste time explaining everything twice.” He says in a thick British accent. You glare at him but stay silent, deciding to pick your battles.

The British one turns away from you and turns his sickening smile on to the few members of the family you had left.

“Now. My name is Alec.” He begins, his pale grey eyes sweeping over the small jumble of prisoners, his tongue darting from his mouth to lick his lips.

“As you can see,” he continues. “Most of the members of your family’s are dead.”

A choked whine escapes one of the girls beside you; you follow her gaze to one of the bodies and your heart clenches as you realize the man lying there is her husband, dead and cold. You catch her eye and give her a grievous look as tears stream down her face.

“And the rest of you are to be taken back with us and divided up.” Alec finishes. He glances back at the other demons and gives a short, curt nod, and they all move in unison towards you and your friends and your heart clenches in fear. You scramble back, unable to scream because of the gag in your mouth, but one of them grips your arm tightly, throwing you in the back of one of the wagons.

Your eyes dart around the small, wooden compartment, the distinct smell of mildew and rot piercing your nose; the others are thrown in with you, all bound and gagged as well.

“Don’t make trouble now.” Alec says threateningly, his eyes daring all of you to challenge him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or do. I haven’t tortured anyone in a long time.” He smirks as he caresses one of the girl's cheeks. He chuckles sinisterly and slams the doors shut, leaving you in complete darkness, pressed leg to leg with your friends.

You don’t know how long you were in there but it felt like days in the pitch darkness. None of you could speak because of the gags tied around your heads but you doubted any of you would talk if you could. Fear had sunk its claws deep into all of your hearts; fear of what would happen to all of you but you couldn’t let it take hold the way it had the rest of your group. You always had to be the strong one and this time was no different so you tried to make reassuring eye contact with the people in closest proximity to you. You can’t do anything to physically calm them down since you’re so tied down but the fact that you’re connecting with the others brings a certain degree of comfort to them. It’s all you can give them now.

After what feels like hours of sitting crouched in the cramped space, the door of the wagon is suddenly thrown open, letting a piercing shard of light creep into the cart, blinding you as rough hands grip your arms, dragging you out. “We’re home.” A low voice says as the demon carries you out of the cart. As you stare at the mansion in front of you, you feel that the picture should be accompanied by a clash of violins and haunting sounds. Rain patters on your face as you take in the sinister, cold castle. How they even found a place like this to squat in after the apocalypse is unbeknownst to you but you don’t have time to ponder the existence of the place as they start dragging all of you to your feet and leading you into the mansion like cattle being led to a slaughter.

The halls are made of icy white marble, sending a chill through your bare feet as you stumble through the mansion until you finally reach what looks to be a great hall. A group of demons have gathered and are eyeing the group of humans that have been dragged into the large marbled hall with a hungry gaze. The gag keeps your mouth shut but your eyes dart around the room, defensive as they stare at you. “This one’s pretty.” A red haired demon with light green eyes comments, chucking one of the girls, Emma, under her chin. “I want that one.” “We do this civilly, Adan.” Reznor snarls, slapping Adan’s hand away from Emma’s face. “We auction them off for fair prices.” Adan growls at Reznor but leans back into the crowd as your heart sinks, a sickening feeling filling your stomach. You and your friends were to be split up and used for slave labor.

They grab Emma first, setting her on a raised pedestal so that all the demons can see her. “Pretty blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes. She has soft hands but I’m sure they can be hardened when she cleans holes you call your homes.” A sickly looking demon calls out, holding up Emma’s hands so they can see every inch of her. Tears stream down her face as they continue to talk about her like she’s merchandise until finally one of them bids on her. 

You watch as one by one, your friends go up to that pedestal and watch as each of them are auctioned off to a demon, disappearing into the rain until finally only you and Peter are left. Reznor gives you an evil look as he grips you by your hair, earning a throaty scream muffled by the gag from your lips. You wriggle your way out of the gag and sink your teeth into his arm and you feel a short burst of pride when you hear him swear but it’s short lived. He retaliates by slapping your cheek hard, so hard that you hit the floor with a nauseating thud.

“This one,” Reznor chuckles maliciously. “This one has a fire in her that will not be tamed. I’m sure a few of you would love a woman like this one. However, this one is claimed.” He pulls you up on the pedestal as you protest, trying to scramble from the post but he holds you with a strength you don’t expect from such a skinny frame.

“Get the fuck off me.” You choke out as you struggle but he holds you tightly.

“Nephew!” He calls out ignoring your growls and protests, beckoning the crowd. “Where is my nephew!” The crowd of demons parts, allowing for a large, muscular man to make his way through the crowd. He stands before the pedestal, glaring at you and Reznor with a stony gaze. He had piercing blue eyes and long dark brown hair. “I hand picked this one for you, James.” Reznor smiles evilly.

James looks you up and down with an expression of obvious disgust on his face before looking back up to his uncle. “I have no need for her.” “You have never taken a human, James. It is time for you to join your brothers and be a true demon.” Reznor’s smile becomes increasingly more sinister and threatening as you glare at James with narrowed eyes, daring him to take you.

“I have no need for a human, uncle.” He replies tersely before turning his back to you, readying to walk away but suddenly, Reznor throws you like a ragdoll, launching you directly at James who whirls around with inhuman speed, catching you before your skull smashes on the marble. His hands are cold as they grip you tightly, lowering you gently to the ground.

“Take her.” Reznor says. There’s no mercy in his eyes now, the mocking tone dropped from his voice and now replaced with a dangerous anger. “Take her or she dies. And we all know of your sympathy for humans.” James looks down at you before rolling his eyes and exhaling angrily. “Fine.”

He takes your arm but his touch is not painful or intending to hurt you which surprises you since no touch you’ve felt since you were taken has been as gentle as his. He begins to pull you from the room but your eyes flick back, catching Peter’s eyes.

“Wait!” You cry out as he starts to take you from the room. “Peter!”

Your eyes meet Peter’s which are filled with fear and you look up at James with pleading eyes.

“Please. He’s my brother.” You beg him, clutching his arm as tightly as you can.

“I have no use for two of you.” He brushes you off as you glance back at peter. “I’ll be okay, Y/N.” He reassures you. “I’ll see you again soon.” You try to reach him but another demon blocks you. “You’d better get out of here before Reznor changes his mind.” He warns James who nods and grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet and quickly striding out of the hall. “What does he mean, change his m--”

“He means Reznor might kill you anyways.” James replies harshly. “Now shut up. We have to get out of here.”

Castle of the Black Masterlist

Masterlist

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