âŁïž WOUNDS - Chokehold âŁïž
CHAPTER SEVEN
Summary: A god, a demon, a man... what was the difference? They all look the same when they're deciding how to damage you.
Pair: Henry Creel/Vecna/001 x Female Reader
Content/Warning Labels: dark slowburn, Hawkins Lab, angst, violence, flashbacks of abuse, Martin Brenner is straight up evil in this, trauma, manipulative Henry, smut (kissing, voyeurism, masturbation, oral if you squiiiint, Henry wants to be in control so bad), touch starved, yearning
WC: 8k | Read on Ao3
(Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six)
Yet, no matter how deeply I go down into myself, my God is dark, and like a webbing made of a hundred roots that drink in silence.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, The Selected Poetry
The next day was as frigid and clinical as every other.
You were glad Henry wasnât on the day shift. You didnât know if you could bare to look at him ever again. You knew, in the very pit of your being that heâd seen you, in that fraction of a second as youâd yanked yourself out of the void.
How were you meant to explain yourself? How were you meant to face him? Your mind ached as you sat at the maze in the rainbow room, absentmindedly spinning the marble through it.
When night came, you almost decided to stay in your room like an obedient, shamed little rat. The more you looked at the frigid space, however, the more you wanted to be in the tide of his warmth.
So you went.
As you heard the night nurse clipping away down the halls, you moved, blanking the camera lenses, using the blind spots Henry had shown you to get your bearings.
You found the white rook settled in the crevice of the door frame of the utility room on your floor, a beacon. Suddenly the door felt like a dam, threatening to burst as your fingers fell around the handle. You opened it tentatively.
His hand fell around your wrist as soon as you stepped inside. He moved in the darkness, shutting the door with a quiet click as he pulled you in. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only light was dim, coming from a single thin strip of a fading fluorescent. The shadowed hues played off his blond tufts, set neatly as always, iced his blue irises.
The air was thick. His face was maddeningly unreadable.
âHenry,â you exhaled. âYou werenât followed?â
He shook his head softly.
âFeeling better?â He asked quietly.
âStill a bit out of it.â
âHm.â
Your throat tightened.
âDid you⊠did you find anything out?â You aimed at casual, but it came out as a strained whisper in the dark of the utility closet.
He studied you for a moment, expression calm but obscure.
âYou know, itâs not an easy thing, breaking in to Brennerâs private offices.â His voice was strange, stilted.
âI - I know it mustnât be.â
âNo,â he said, his voice low as he took a step closer to you. âIt is even more difficult not getting caught.â
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat.
âDid - did you?â
You didnât know why you were still pretending. Your insides felt on fire at his gaze, at his every word that was pointed and dripping.
âNo.â
You breathed out. He stepped closer in the dark.
âBut you did.â He said softly.
Your lips pulled apart a fraction as he studied you. âI -â
âI saw you.â
You felt a surge of hot defensiveness crawl through you, desperate to save your reputation, which you feared was now bleeding out into nothing in front of him.
âI - you - you saw me. It - it was only fair -â But you knew it was useless. You knew how wrong it was, watching him like that.
âI was helping you then.â He said, eyes narrowing.
You pushed a sharp breath through your nose.
âI know.â You admitted quietly, finally. âIâm sorry.â
âAre you?â His eyes had grown darker, the cerulean a deep midnight blue.
You hesitated, and then raised your eyes back to his.
âNo.â
He huffed softly, taking another step forward, invading your space.
âNeither am I,â he murmured, his index finger rising slowly to stroke featherlight under your jaw. âFor seeing you.â
He tilted your chin up, the pad of his thumb brushing over the flushed pink of your lower lip, sending a jolt through it.
âYou saw everything?â He asked softly, his sculpted face flushed a delicate shade, barely perceptible in the low light, if you hadn't been looking at him so intently.
âYes.â You breathed.
He was so close you could feel the hum of his warmth. Was that your heart hammering, or his?
âI shouldnât have.â
âNo.â
Henry stepped forward far enough to push you back into the metal bench. It was cold, bumped up against your lower back. His face was still, but there was something lurking behind his eyes. He leaned into you, his height towering as he pressed his body against yours.
Your insides were aching, embered and alive by the heat of him so close to you. His mouth hovered over the shell of your ear.
âBut you did. You wanted to. You wanted to watch me like that,â his voice was a ghost of itself, writhing into your head.
You swallowed audibly. âYes.â
He hummed, the vibration rumbling through your ear, sending a cold shiver up the back of your neck. He ran a finger down the softness under your throat that pulsed with life. A slickness pooled out between your thighs as he hovered there, gentle yet commanding.
He leaned back a fraction to take you in, looking intrigued, his doe eyes shifting over every inch of your face.
âHenry -â The way your voice shook surprised you.
He smiled calmly. His lips parted before he spoke.
âYour turn.â He whispered.
âW-what?â
âItâs only fair, isn't that what you said?â He murmured, running his knuckle up your flushed cheek. Your breath hitched as you realized what he was asking for.
âYou watched me come undone, now I want to watch you.â He purred, the edge to it unmistakable.
He brushed his full lips over the bone of your jaw, and dragged them down to the beat kicking wildly in your throat. You shuddered against him as he sucked over your pulse with wet lips, claiming the proof of life like it was his own.
For a moment, you wondered if you had fallen asleep waiting for midnight. If this was one of the dark corners of your selfish desire that found you when you were floating somewhere between wake and dreams.
Your hands finally left the cool metal, attempting to brush up the sides of him, but his fingers snapped across your wrists abruptly.
âNo,â he muttered as he raised his head, his nose dragging up your jaw. âI said, your turn.â
He let one of your hands go and shoved the other to the bench behind you, his fingers still tight on your wrist, holding you there as he pressed against you. You could feel the hard line of his erection against your thigh. It was an agony, the ache so hot and deep within you as your mind reeled over the feeling.
âHenry -â
Henry's eyes pierced into yours, an unrelenting instruction. You swallowed. He pulled back just enough to give you room, his heat still radiating onto you.
Your breath shook, the fingers of your free hand trembled as you brushed under your sweater and hooked the waistband of your pants. Henryâs gaze fell, tight on your every movement, following your fingers as you swept your trousers and underwear from your hips.
The low light fell across your exposed flesh in the space between you.
His eyes were unyielding, analyzing every detail of you as you stood there, your blood hot with the vulnerability of exposure. And yet, you'd wanted nothing more than for him to see you like this again. He hummed gently, shadows falling about his angelic face.
âShow me...â His voice was caught between a command and a beg.
Your chest rose in a jagged breath and you moved your hand. You slid a finger languidly through your slit, parting the slick flesh, gathering your arousal. You brought your hand up to his face, your finger glistening under the light.
Henry was motionless, a sharp breath drawing in as he surveyed it.
Then, as if he physically couldn't restrain himself, his lips curled over your finger, hot and wet as he sucked it into his mouth. You couldnât contain the broken noise you made as he whined in his throat, his eyelids fluttering closed. He breathed against your finger as you ran it over his mouth, pulling his bottom lip down under your fingertip.
âShow me what you wanted to do to yourself when you watched me.â He murmured.
He followed your fingers as you moved between your legs again. Your every nerve felt alight under his controlled gaze as you slid your fingers slowly through yourself. Your lips parted on a soft breath as you dragged up over your clit.
Henry's face was veiled in shadow as he watched every flicker, every tight circle you made over the swollen nerves.
âThat's it,â he said softly, âdid you want to touch yourself like this when you saw me?â
You whined at the coiling pleasure, as he started undoing you with his eyes and his words alone.
âYes...â
âDo you want my fingers touching you like that?â
Your hips rolled against your hand desperately, your thighs brushing against his.
âYes, I do,â you whimpered pathetically, your insides blooming with heat.
âShow me where you want them.â
You slid your fingers down through your slick and pushed into yourself, whining as you stretched around them. Your chin tilted up, your mouth begging for his, but he kept his gaze between your legs.
âThatâs it, go inside like that.â Henry praised, watching your fingers intently. âDeeper.â
You pushed higher into your aching cunt, curling your fingers up, the sounds wet and obscene in the quiet of the room.
He groaned, content, finally leaning back into your neck. âShould I tell you what I wanted?â
âY-yes, tell me...â you begged as his lips parted over your skin, laying a wet trail.
âI wanted your hand around me⊠your mouth⊠wanted to be inside that pretty thing I saw between your legs. I looked at you for so long.â He breathed, his finger brushing under your ear. âSo long.â
You moaned at his confession as you pumped your fingers faster, your eyes becoming hazy. His fingers tightened around your wrist.
âI wanted you undoing me,â he purred into your ear.
Your desire mounted into a scorching pleasure twisting deep in your belly.
âPlease, Henry⊠kiss me,â you begged. âIâm doing what you want, arenât I?â
âNo, youâre repenting.â
He brushed his lips against your throat as a string of broken moans fell from your mouth. His hand came up to cradle your jaw, his thumb sliding through your parted lips.
âPleaseâŠâ You groaned as you pulled your fingers from yourself and circled them tightly over your clit again.
âNo. Not yet.â
There was something cold lurking in his eyes that made the thrill even more exquisite, made you ache desperately for him. The way he was controlling you so angelically, with nothing but his eyes and his whispered words.
âFuck -â you whined as your fingers spun urgently across your swollen nerves.
âThatâs right,â Henry purred, âkeep going.â
He was undoing you with his velvet cadence and his intense eyes, every atom of himself narrowed in to you, in to the world between your legs, his angelic face edged with a quietly violent hunger.
âIâm - going to -â you breathed raggedly as you felt your orgasm cresting.
âSay my name.â Henry demanded excitedly, his hand twisting tight around your wrist.
His command was the final pin he pulled.
âGod - Henry -â you cried out as you climaxed, your hips shuddering and thrusting, your cunt clenching around nothing as the pleasure pulsed through you in exquisite waves.
Henry was swift, falling to his knees between your legs. His hands were tight on your bare thighs as he tilted his face up between your legs. He licked a single broad stroke through your pussy, making you flinch and whine as he tasted your slick. He groaned in content, lapping another single stroke over you before his mouth fell to your thighs with gentle, possessive kisses.
He breathed at your knees for a moment before rising, his fingertips running up your bare legs as he stood. Finally, he crashed his lips over yours, a reward, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.
âNext time,â he murmured into you, ânext time I will do this properly.â
Your breaths drew down, normalizing again as he lingered in your neck.
âNext time? Henry, Iâm here right now.â The desperation was hot on your tongue as you slid your hands up into his hair. He breathed into your mouth as you spun your lips across his.
âI canât.â
âWhat, why not?â
âIâm on shift. I have to return.â
Your hands slid down his neck and settled against the hard plains of his chest contained beneath the crisp white fabric.
âWhy do you do this? Why do you deny yourself?â
âWhat? I donât.â
âYes you do,â you said irritably, dropping your hands from him. âYou donât let yourself have anything good. No without clawing for it first, do you Henry?â
âThatâs not trueâ
âThen why are you always running away?â
His face had softened now, his eyes calm and stripped of their edge.
âIâm not running away.â
âYes you are,â You sighed. âYou canât run away from this place so youâre running away from me instead. Every time you get close itâs like you canât stand it. Itâs like you - you want to punish yourself. I'm sick of it. I want you to show me who you really are.â
He tensed at your words, and expelled a long breath. âYou shouldn't want that.â
Your teeth clenched.
âWhy shouldn't I?â You snapped. âDon't you want something good in all this misery?â
He was silent, studying you.
âMy priority is finding out who you are. Helping you.â
âIs it? Or is it playing games with me?â You spat, shoving him away and pulling up your pants.
âI'm not -â
âYes you are. And you keep doing it.â
His brow knitted softly, his jaw clenching in the dim light.
âI donât think you really want love, do you Henry? I think you just want to feel its sting so you can prove to yourself that youâre alive.â
âLove,â he pushed the word out like it was sour. âCannot exist in a place like this.â
âIn the lab?â You spat. âOr in you?â The light flickered aggressively above you, whirring like a threat as your frustration coiled.
His head jerked back a fraction, as if youâd shoved your fingers into an open wound. For a moment, you thought he might sweep out the door and slam it behind him. But he just stood there, looking like a desolate angel in the dark.
âYou want to figure out who I am so badly then do it. Figure me out. But I wonât give you any more of whoever the hell I am without you showing me who you are first.â
You swung past him in the dim light.
âNineteen, please -â
âThatâs not my name.â You hissed, not looking back at him as you left him in the dark.
***
You could barely sleep for days after your encounter with Henry. When had your waking life become even more of a nightmare than your shattered dreams? You tossed aggressively in your bed, heaving sighs out into the dark.
You were angry.
Angry at him. Angry at yourself for wanting him, for how desperately you needed him to save you from yourself, from this place. This wretched place and it's ceaseless control, gripping you tighter every second of every day.
When had you become someone who needed rescuing? When had you become so fragile? It was a feeling that didnât settle, like it didnât belong to your body. Not in this life, not in the one you couldnât remember.
The frustration was coursing through you, unbearable. You shoved your pillow over your face and screamed. The force left you before you could reason with it. The light above you shattered, raining glass and plastic and bits of fluorescent tubing down onto you in an array of sparks and crackles.
âFuck!â You yelled, bolting up out of bed to throw the blankets off, sweeping the debris from your face and the mattress. It spread with a harsh scattering across the floor.
You sank down onto the side of the bed and hung your head in your hands. You didnât know what was ruining you faster. Your mind, or Henry.
It wasn't long before the night nurse was knocking on your door. She unlocked it, and swung the metal open into the dark.
âWhy bother knocking if you were going to come in anyway?â You asked in a huff.
She eyed you, then the floor, then the ceiling.
âWhat happened?â
âThe light... malfunctioned.â You said, flicking on the desk lamp.
âRight.â She frowned as she assessed the damage. âAre you hurt? Cut by any of these shards?â
âNo.â You huffed.
She hummed disapprovingly. âI'll come back with a brush and dustpan. Stay here, don't step on any of this.â
You shot up off the bed and advanced. For a moment she looked terrified, as if you were about to throw her down the corridor. You had to admit, you'd thought about it. But really, you and your aching head just wanted out of this room.
âI'll get it.â You said tightly.
âWhat -â
âI know where the supplies cupboard is. Please. I can't sleep, I need a walk. My mind is... overloaded, clearly.â
She frowned and curled her lips in, studying you.
âPlease,â you said, in your most pleading voice that still afforded you a shred of dignity. Your eyes fell to her name badge. âPlease, Helen -â
As her name tumbled from your mouth, you heard a voice carry behind your own. Sinister, covered in a layer of honey too thin to completely mask it. Your own voice choked, your skeleton growing cold bone by bone as you heard it.
His voice. Papa.
"...Nurse Helen here will give you some oxygen now..."
Then came the splitting pain in your head. A flash of film behind your eyes. The nurse, half hidden behind a surgical mask, the same dull hazel eyes peeking out. Bright lights blowing out your pupils, steel suns radiating directly from above. Shaped, suffocating rubber being placed over your face by the nurse's hands.
You felt the imprint of it, felt the dread rising, every nerve screaming under your skin. A scorch of fury ran through you, alive and untamed, and for a fleeting moment, you saw yourself crush her into a mangled pile.
Instead, you stuttered, swallowing the shadows down your throat.
âH-Helen,â you repeated thickly, voice sounding miles away as you stomped down the dread.
âAre you alright, Nineteen? You've gone awfully pale.â She remarked.
âI, uh, yes, I'm fine. I just - I just need some air, like I said. Please?â You asked again, your eyes staring into nowhere.
She considered you for a second longer before finally sighing in surrender.
âThree minutes. If you're not back in that time I will call the guards,â she warned tightly. âI'll fetch some new linens, in case there's any shards in these.â
You nodded and sped out, trawling down the halls in hurried paces. You knew where the supplies cupboard was, you'd passed it hundreds of times.
So how did you end up outside the staff dormitories? Specifically, the wing labelled 'Orderly Staff'? You stood staring through the steel-netted windows in the doors for far too long, your mind feeling both completely blank and entirely too full.
The hairs on your neck stood up, electrified as you felt the air behind you shift.
A hand grabbed your wrist.
Reactively and unstoppably, you spun, yanking your arm free and pushing a violent, frightened wave of kinetic force forth from your other hand. He went skidding down the hall and hit the wall with an ungracious thud, gasping as the wind was knocked clean from his lungs. He doubled over, his blonde tufts falling haphazardly as he coughed.
âWhat the fuck, H -â Your voice caught as you saw the camera blink red down the hall. â- Peter.â You hissed.
You stalked towards him and helped him straighten up. He shook his hair back and pushed his hands over his trousers, neatening them.
âSorry,â he choked, voice tight and strained from the lack of air. âI should have known better than to grab you like that.â
âYes, you should have,â you groaned. âAre you hurt? I didn't mean to -â
He held up a hand and shook his head, his hair still falling in a delicately mussed way that was far too beautiful for the walls around you.
âNo, don't,â he protested. âMy fault entirely.â
You sighed, heart still hammering, stomach tight with guilt. He searched your face, his eyes turning inquisitive as he recovered from the blow.
âWhat are you doing here?â He asked quietly.
Your head didn't move, but your eyes flicked up to the camera blinking down the hall again.
âI - I got lost.â You replied, too low for the camera to hear you.
âYou got lost?â
âI was meant to go to the supply cupboard.â
âAt 3am?â
âYes.â You chewed your lip. âI - exploded a light.â
His eyebrows slid upward together, curious.
âYou... okay,â he breathed. âWhy?â
Because of you.
âIt was accidental.â
âWell I didn't imagine it would have been recreational.â Henry chuckled lightly. âBut you came here, instead? Why?â
âI didnât mean to.â
He stepped a pace closer. Close enough for the shape of the conversation to change, but not close enough that it would have looked inappropriate to anyone viewing the monitors.
âYou didn't?â
âI -â you breathed, âI donât think so.â
His eyes were swimming in yours again, dangerously, too dangerous for a monitored hall way.
âSomething happened,â you whispered even softer, your eyes falling to the floor. âI saw something.â
He exhaled slowly, his brow knitting down as he studied your face, only now realizing how fraught you looked behind the eyes.
âTell me.â He murmured.
âThe nurse -â
At that moment, she rushed around the corner, finding you and Henry standing a perfectly acceptable distance apart. Just a simple orderly and a lost looking experiment.
âAh, there she is now.â Henry said, his tone calm and practiced. âHelen, Iâm afraid Nineteen here went a corridor too far. I was just about to escort her back.â
Helen's cheeks pulled in, her face set in a stern frown.
âWell, thank goodness for you, Peter. I was about to call the guards, Nineteen. You told me you knew where to go.â
âSorry,â you offered meekly, shrugging.
âWhat do you two need?â Henry asked, addressing Helen deliberately instead of you. âI can get it for you, if that would help.â
âItâs no problem Peter, Iâll get it on the way back to her room.â
Her fat fingers grasped your forearm, making you flinch. He nodded politely, his hands settling steadily in front of him.
âWonderful. And donât worry, Nineteen. Soon youâll know this castle like the back of your hand. Right Helen?â He smiled, gesturing at the walls.
Your ears rang at the way his voice fell around the word.
Castle.
Helen returned his smile, though hers was oddly stilted, something about him making her wary like it did so many others. As she lead you away, you could see the instruction in his eyes. You nodded once at him, imperceptibly, letting her drag you back through the halls in clipped silence.
***
After finally cleaning up the ungracious scene, once the nurse had decided you werenât a complete basket case and finally left you alone, you slipped into bed and closed your eyes.
You left yourself there, pulling your mind from your body like separating Velcro. Your feet touched the waterlogged floor of the darkened ether, and he materialized almost immediately, pacing in the blackness in front of his bed.
âHenry?â Your voice was a hollow whisper, eerie tendrils of sound reaching through dimensions towards him.
He stopped pacing and looked up, his eyes drawing towards you.
âCan you see me?â
âA little, not properly. Not all of you.â He said softly. âIt's as if you're a ghost.â
To him you looked like nothing more than a faded apparition, while to you he looked like a pale beacon of radiance in the blackness, every detail shockingly vivid.
He sat on the side of the bed.
âFinish telling me what you saw earlier.â
âIt was her name that did it, I realized I'd heard it before.â You sighed. âI saw her above me. She was wearing a mask, but I recognized her eyes. She was leaning over me, putting an oxygen mask on my face. I can... I can still feel it. I can taste the rubber.â
Henry frowned. âDo you think it could be from when you were in the infirmary?â
âNo, Henry, this was before, I'm sure of it. Just like the other things I've seen, it came to me so violently, the way they all do. It made me want to...â
âWant to what?â
You paused, a sigh falling from you.
âTell me.â He said softly.
Not a demand, an invitation. One you trusted.
âIt made me want to kill her, for a moment. I - I thought I might -â
His face remained oddly still and composed despite the harshness of your confession. His hands slid down to rest on his thighs as he looked at the shade of you.
âThere was something else. Papa, he was talking. He said something about her giving me oxygen.â Your brow creased as you recalled it. âBright lights... but I couldnât make out anything else.â
Henry was quietly studying you, taking in every word.
You came closer, and sat on then edge of the bed next to him. The void was so cold and empty that even his warmth couldnât penetrate it. It felt like sitting the bottom of a lonely ocean.
âYou said, once youâre caught or made or lured, you can never get out.â
âI meant it.â Henry huffed, looking at his feet.
Your eyes fell to his long, slender fingers resting elegantly on his thighs.
âI think I was made.â You whispered, as if the words said too loudly would make the thought solid enough to break you.
âOf course you were.â He said stiffly. âTell me everything you remember, from the beginning.â
âI donât know if things are in order, exactly.â You sighed.
âIt doesnât matter, just tell me the things you have seen.â
âWell, there's a man, a violent man. Always hurting me.â Your throat tightened. Henryâs jaw clenched.
âThen, there was the sound of cans, empty ones. Like theyâre being crushed. Um - there's a bus. That was a vivid one. The driver, I saw him too. The seats⊠and the noise. Really shrill, like old brakes.â
Henry nodded calmly.
âThere was another one - a man in a suit. He gave me something...a piece of paper, or a flyer or something. There was rain, rain in my shoes...â
âYou said you needed to fix your shoelaces.â Henry said suddenly, his head turning to you. âWhen you were drugged, you said your shoelaces needed more thread. You said they were ripped, you'd tried to mend them.â
You bit your lip.
Henry stood up swiftly, moving through the space. As you followed his form in the blackness of the void, a dresser materialized. He pulled open a drawer and rustled inside briefly before pulling out a bundle of keys, rattling together metallically on the ring.
âKeys?â You asked, your voice hollow as it stretched through the ether.
âBrennerâs office, the filing cabinet, probably some others on here.â
âHow did you...?â
âHis personal assistant. Sheâs new. I -â He paused.
âYou what?â
âI got them from her.â
âI donât suppose she just handed them over.â You said snidely. âWhat did you do?â
His face was stony. âI know how people work. They are easy to distract. Easy to make do things.â
Your eyes fell to the floor, stomach twisting as you recalled doing everything he said only days ago in the dark confines of the utility room, nothing but his velvet voice and haunting eyes controlling you.
Did he see you as something just as commandable, just as pathetic?
He read your expression, and his feet shuffled awkwardly.
âNot like that.â
âIâm not like that, or you werenât like that with her?â
âBoth.â He said tightly, sitting down beside the ghost of you on his bed.
You didnât say anything, just stared down at the dark water rippling gently underneath your bare feet for what felt like forever.
âI shouldnât have done that,â he admitted in a hush. âIt was... self indulgent.â
You shook your head softly. âNo, watching you was. But I donât... I donât regret what happened.â
His eyes gazed into the ghost of your own. âNeither do I.â
Your hand whispered out towards him, coming to rest on his thigh. He flinched, the muscle in his leg twitching in response.
âYou can feel me, canât you?â
âA little.â He murmured, his eyes tight to your hand on his leg. âItâs cold, though.â
Your stomach twisted oddly. You let your hand rest there in the dark as he studied it, his initial reaction settling into calm and curiousity.
âI will look in Brennerâs office first. See if I can find anything out -â His breath hitched sharply as you moved your hand upwards, turned your fingers in to his inner thigh.
âYou flinch every time I touch you, you know?â You said softly, brushing your hand higher.
âDo I?â He breathed tightly.
His leg jerked a touch more as you hitched your hand up to the crease of his hip.
âDo I repulse you or something?â You frowned.
âDonât be ridiculous.â He huffed, his voice still tight and breathy. His Adamâs apple bobbed in his pale throat as he swallowed. âIâm not - Iâm not used to people touching me like that.â He said quietly.
âSorry,â you said, pulling your hand away. âI... know what you mean. Everyone who has touched me has damaged me.â
Henryâs eyes followed your hand as you dragged it away.
âCan you-â he paused, words stuck in his throat. âDo you think you can put it back?â It was barely a whisper.
The contrast of this Henry compared to the commanding presence heâd wielded over you in the utility room was so harsh it took you a moment to reconcile that this was the same man.
You obeyed, resting your hand on his thigh again. He exhaled a short, soft breath, his brow knitting down.
âI can barely feel you.â He said sadly.
âWell, Iâm not really there.â
He huffed a small breath, turning to look into your shaded eyes. He looked like an angel in the blackness, lit from within, a sort of gentle halo thrumming around him.
âNo, youâre not.â
You sat in silence for a while, your cold shade of a hand resting on his leg in the darkness, his face contorting into several different emotions, all lit with the same cerulean blue. Your fingers rubbed idly against the white fabric.
âI canât... I canât feel it anymore.â He frowned after a while, looking up at you. âIn fact I can barely see you.â He reached out towards your face, but his hand touched nothing, just sank heavily through the air.
âIâm fading, I think. My head is hurting.â
âThen go,â he smiled softly. âYou donât have to sit here with me all night.â
âWhat if I want that?â
He smiled higher, shaking his head.
âGo, please.â He instructed softly. âThere will be testing tomorrow and if youâre exhausted, heâll know. Theyâll medicate you again.â
You sighed, breath falling out into the blackness between you.
âAlright,â you pulled your hand away, and this time he flinched when you removed it.
You stood up, his eyes intense on your form as it began fading in and out of view with the exhausted effort of your psyche.
âGoodnight, Henry. And whatever you do with those -â you nodded down towards the keys still clutched in his fingers. âBe careful. Donât make me watch them break you again.â
His face held a hung smile, an edge of grief in his eyes.
âI will be careful. I promise.â
With that you faded into nothing, pulled backwards into your body.
You wanted to return to him, properly. You wanted to touch him until you stopped feeling haunted. You wanted to claim every part of him, sink your teeth into his neck, feel the shape of him weighed down by you, by every terrible thing inside you that only he could soothe.
You lay heavily on your mattress, blood trailing a thick path of crimson into your lips and down the side of your cheek. You swiped at it, limbs boneless and sapped, head throbbing as you spun into the pit of dreamless sleep.
***
Henry stood like a chalk sentinel against the dark tiles of the testing room. Perfectly still, perfectly gentle, perfectly observing.
The room still held the ominous imprint of your chaos from weeks prior. The feeling settled oddly against your skin. You stared at the spot where the bodies had crumpled, bloodied and crushed by your chaos. Nothing but shiny black tile stared back at you.
Your throat dried.
You fell into line at the wall with the others. A row of grey, hairless rats, waiting for your lordâs instruction.
âToday you will be tested against each other.â Brenner said as he paced down the line. He moved to the center of the room and outlined two large chalk circles on the floor.
âEach of you will take a turn in the circle. You will attempt to push your opponent out of their circle. Whoeverâs feet leave the circle first will be the loser. The winner will face another challenger.â He said brightly, rubbing the chalk off his fingers as he spoke.
You thought about how easy it had been to throw Henry down the hallway. But you hadnât had an audience then. You hadn't had Brenner's ominous presence looming over you, or the many eyes that now glanced at you warily, the memory of the room not only weighing on you alone.
âTwo and Eight, youâll start. Peter, if you will?â
Two strode into the circle as if he owned it. Eight hesitated, small stature eclipsed by the brutish teen. Henry nodded dutifully, approaching each of them in calm paces, placing blindfolds over their eyes with practiced hands.
It was easy work for Two, easy as swatting flies. You watched as he dispatched his opponents one by one, sending their small feet skirting outside of the chalk lines with his forceful strength, his face curling with smirks of triumph with each subject he sent careening over the floor.
One by one until it was only you, waiting against the wall alone.
âNineteen.â Brenner nodded.
You studied Twoâs face as you stepped forward. It was square, sweaty, arrogant. A deep red blood trail slipping from his nostril to his lip. The edges of the circle were warped and smeared from the many whoâd been defeated before you.
Henry stepped up behind you like a ghost. You kept your face rigidly composed as he slipped the blindfold over your eyes. His fingertips ghosted across the top of your ears as he went, heating your entire spine with a static hum.
Your mind trailed into the dark spaces you'd shared as he shrouded your vision. Your body bloomed with heat, yearning to return to them.
âBegin.â
Twoâs power thrust forward like a wall against you, a dense thrumming of energy as you attempted to push against it with your own. The two forces ground against each other like opposite ends of a magnet. You felt your heels rise a touch as his turned heavier, becoming leaden against your limbs, a weight that threatened to send you backwards. You could feel the blood already slicking your upper lip as you grunted your own force forward, attempting to move him even an inch.
Then, the taunting began.
âIs that all youâve got? Useless.â He shoved harder, forcing your heels to lift higher, sliding you back in your circle. âYou think you have a chance against me, is that it?â
âTwo.â Brenner warned.
âCanât you see how weak she is Papa? You waste so much time with her.â He snarked. You heard a few of the others snicker in response.
You grunted louder, pushing out more force, but he quickly retaliated, making you slide even further back.
âThe six year old gave me more of a challenge than this mangey dog.â Two snarled.
His force began to shift. It took on an odd shape, the wall finessing down into a precise form. It pushed up you in a wave, landing over your throat. It wrapped around your flesh, digging, choking.
Tighter, tighter...
You felt the white-hot agony, splitting you at the seams.
-
All you could taste was the rancid copper. Had your teeth been knocked loose this time? Had you swallowed them? Your fingers were in your mouth, counting them, smearing blood across enamel.
Tattered threads ripped free under your fingernails, tiny fibers of dread, the floorboards beneath you groaned. There was an animal... no, a voice. Was it Death's this time?
âWhat the fuck did you say?â He snarled, spit flying down onto you.
Is this how you die? Is this how you join her? Blood falling against the tatter as his fist grappled around your collar, yanking you up from the floor.
âDo it.â It's hysterical, pure elation at the thought. Though you really want to say "please... please, donât make me beg... donât make me do it myself."
A god, a demon, a man... what was the difference? They all look the same when they're deciding how to damage you. Your head against a rock, a wall, a floor... what was the difference? They all feel the same when your skull is rammed against them.
âI know what you did to her. I know you did it but I just can't prove it.â
It was taunting disguised as begging. Begging through blood and saltwater and bone. His face was a contorted snarl of itself, red-raged and seething. His fingers were digging into the column of your neck, so deep, so brutal, as if to breach the flesh.
It ached and clawed and crushed until it didnât, until the oxygen was gone, until he had sapped every pathetic atom of it. Until the hall was empty, liminal, white.
Could you hear her? Was she singing? Were you there now? Were you finally gone, was this mercy?
Was this mercy?
-
Darkness had a shape.
The shape of tiles, the shape of grout, the shape of something terrible and powerful and wretched. The shape of Two. Levitating, pinned flat-backed against the wall, his limbs splayed, his fists tight and trembling, pathetic and useless.
Who was doing this? Who had him so violently restrained? Who had their hand outstretched in front of you, fingers splayed? Who was splitting you open straight down the middle?
A crunch, a scream. Then another. Another.
âEnough!â
The hand receded. The arm fell. Two slid to the floor, a whimpering mess, three fingers bent into jagged shapes, face purple and sweat-soaked, his chest heaving with cries.
Your hands were shaking violently, your lips and teeth were saturated in the taste of your own blood.
âTwo, can you stand?â Brenner was hovering over the boy, a hand on his shoulder.
He groaned and cried as he was lifted by the arms. âY-yes Papa.â
The rest of the children were all huddling terror-eyed against the wall.
You found the only face you could. Your sentry, your rook. His face was rigid, his haunting blue gaze already boring into you. He had that look in his eyes again.
Recognition.
âI -â was the only word you knew.
âPeter, take Two to the infirmary. Then return to us.â
Henry nodded, lingering on your bewildered face for a beat before moving.
âThe rest of you will return to the rainbow room.â He said simply.
They filed out obediently. You moved to follow them, but you were stopped abruptly, a cold hand around your wrist.
âNo.â Brenner spat. âStay. Sit.â
Like a dog, you did.
He sank you down into an empty chair by the shoulder.
Henryâs eyes darted back to you as he helped Two through the door, the brutish arrogance of the boy reduced to nothing but tears and wails, holding his mangled hand by the wrist.
âHave I not warned you enough, Nineteen?â Brenner snarled, pacing calculated strides in front of you. âHave I not made you understand the gravity of your actions, the seriousness of the consequences?â
You were silent, wordless. You could still feel the dread and despair of what you'd seen writhing through you. It would be all too easy to mangle him as well, wouldnât it? You could do it right now, you could -
âDonât even think about it.â Brenner said, his practiced eyes reading every single thought behind yours. âYouâre nothing without me, don't you remember? You were nothing before me, and youâll be nothing after Iâm gone.â
You swallowed. His fingers shoved into the buttons of his pager. He leaned down into you, his breath a flume of cold mint and tobacco.
âIt seems you have real power, Nineteen. Beyond what I thought, and your progress is nothing short of remarkable. And regrettable as this next part is, it is a necessity. You are fortunate that I do not take away your powers completely. The only reason I am not doing so is because of what you displayed here today. It was... remarkable.â
He clicked his teeth as he eyed you. âRegardless, punishment is inevitable.â
âPapa, please, I didn't mean to -â
He held a rigid hand up, silencing you. The door opened.
Henry's steps faltered a fraction as his eyes darted over you, desolate and slumped in your chair.
âAh, Peter.â Brenner said curtly, straightening up. âTwo?â
âBroken fingers. He should be perfectly fine, once mended.â
Brenner turned his sharp gaze back to you.
âHow many?â He asked over his shoulder.
Henry hesitated. âThree.â
âHm.â Brenner hummed. âThree it is.â
Your head darted back towards the door as one of the guards swung it open, his heavy black boots thumping over the tiles.
âNineteen - left or right?â Brenner mused casually.
âW-what?â
âYour left hand, or your right hand?â
âPapa, please, I didnât mean for any of that to happen, I swear, I didnât even know I was doing it - I didn't even see -â
He leaned down into you again, his face so calm it was sickening.
âI said - left hand, or right hand?â
You knew he wasnât going to relinquish the reigns of punishment, the thrill of the performance. It tasted too sweet, to satiating for him to surrender.
Henryâs jaw was clenched harder than youâd ever seen it, the blue hue of his eyes depressed into a dark ocean.
âLeft.â You murmured weakly.
âPeter, hold her back.â
His command was the blade of a guillotine, coming down across your neck. Ice ran through every one of your veins in slow motion. Henryâs whole body stiffened.
âDoctor Brenner -â He protested, voice stuttering.
Brennerâs fingers cinched a vice around Henryâs wrist. Brutal, bruising, the threat not even disguised. He flinched aggressively, looking more terrified than you thought possible, every perfect feature marred with dread.
He stared at you, his face twisted into helpless guilt and turmoil.
âNow, Peter.â
Henryâs throat worked. He glared into the face of the monster, and then moved, his chest bowing in with a great sigh as he approached you.
For a moment, it was just the two of you. Two chess pieces on the board in the dark, two terrorized souls spinning into each other's eyes with regret and fury and lament toiling in the color.
Henry guided you up from the chair gently, as if trying to ease the brutality that would come next. He slipped his fingers around your right wrist, and stepped behind you. You gasped sharply as he pulled your hand up behind your back, twisting your arm up to your shoulder blades, pinning it there.
âPapa, please -â you choked out.
Brenner simply nodded at the guard. You could feel Henryâs entire body trembling behind you, could hear his breaths wracking through him. In one swift move the guard yanked you to the floor. Henry followed you down, his knees buckling, his grip unyielding. As you yelled out, you heard him whisper, the sound falling sombre and strained from his lips.
âIâm sorry.â
He was a wall behind you, still pinning your right arm back as the guard violently pulled your left to the ground. He crushed his boot to your wrist, forcing your fingers to splay across the tile. You writhed and thrashed, yelling desperate choked pleas. The guard pinned your wrist with his entire weight.
âIâm sorry.â Henry murmured again, his voice breaking over itself, cracking in the back of his throat. âIâm so sorry.â
The pain was almost blinding as the guard's other boot came crashing down onto three of your splayed out fingers. You shrieked, guttural cries of agony as his foot came down again, and again, his entire weight cracking over your fragile fingers, until you could do nothing but whimper and sob. Henry was violently shaking, amongst your own cries you could hear his chest catching with silent, guilt ridden sounds.
âSufficient.â Brenner said finally. His face was nothing but a collected, composed expression of nonchalance as he stared down at your fingers, mangled a deep, bone-bruised purple, streaked with blood where your skin had torn.
Henry relented your right arm immediately, but his fingers lingered around your wrist, as if he physically couldnât bring himself to let go. The guard just smirked, straightening himself up and retreating.
âPeter, take her to the infirmary. That looks like it needs attention.â Brenner nodded at your mangled, bruised fingers before leaving the room in his usual clipped stride.
Henry said nothing, only the sound of his ragged breaths in your ear as he led you through the halls, his hand still around your wrist, the other at your upper back. Your sobs of pain drew down as you walked, your fingers throbbing ceaselessly.
He stopped you just outside of the ward.
âI canât tell you how sorry I am.â His voice was almost a whimper, almost nothing. His eyes were damp and avoidant.
You felt devoid of all emotion but pain.
âItâs not your fault.â You said, voice robotic. âBetter Papa hurt me than both of us.â
He looked broken, traumatized. Your eyes felt hollow as they tried to hold the image.
âBesides, I deserved it.â
âDonât.â
âI hurt Two, Henry. I didnât mean to, I didnât even know I was doing it at first. But he - he started choking me. After that itâs like Iâd fallen back into a nightmare.â Your voice choked as the images reeled through your mind.
There were cameras, of course there were.
Henry held you anyway, pulling you into him, his body stiff and still trembling with guilt-laden breaths as he held you there, letting you cry against him in your pain in anguish.
âWhat you did in there -â Henry said finally as your head pulled back from his chest, his tear-stained white shirt. âIâve seen that kind of power before. Papa has seen it before. You need to be very careful.â He murmured.
Papa...
âWhat do you mean youâve seen it before?â
Henry sighed. âThere was someone else, before. A long time ago. Someone he could not control. In the end, he took away their power.â
âSoteria.â You murmured.
Henry nodded. âYes.â
âWhat happened to them?â
âThat story doesnât have a happy ending, Iâm afraid.â
His thumb whispered up your wet, tear-stained cheek. âI meant what I said. I am going to figure this out. Until then, you must do whatever he says, you must be whatever he needs you to be. Don't give him a reason to weaken you.â
You nodded, eyes still wet, fingers throbbing with a hot drench of pain. Henry's hand tightened around your wrist one last time.
âThe time will come. You'll need your powers if you're going to survive this place. Or ever leave it.â He breathed.
You knew he was right. The time would come.
To end the nightmare once and for all.
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