Dorcas is torn to pieces (certaindoom) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-09-19 22:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/09 september, dorcas meadowes, leoben yaxley |
Who: Dorcas Meadowes and Leoben Yaxley
When: Saturday, 19 September 1980; night
Where: Ben's stables
What: Lesson #1
Rating: Violence, Ben's creepy and Dorcas's mouth
Status: Completed log
The familiar, deep pull of apparation pulled at Leoben, tearing away the surroundings of the castle. In their place, came the very plain wooden walls of the stables. Plain even, in that he'd stripped the walls of the knives. The magnetic strips remained, but they were bare. He had plans for her after all. She - Dorcas - was stunned and held tightly in his left hand. Now though, in the safety of his own property, he dropped her rudely on the ground. The building itself was not particularly large. His family hadn't owned horses in a handful of generations, but the building remained. It did not particularly smell like a stable any more. He had done too much in this space for the comforts of grain feed to still linger. In fact, there was an odd absence of smell, his own doing. He didn't want it to smell like rotting corpses after all, or burnt flesh. Neither appealed to him very greatly and so, he'd investigated a charm to simply dampen all smells. It was an odd blindness of senses, but it was better than the alternative. He stretched, tended an odd bruise or two obtained during the scuffle and the bent over the stunned form of Dorcas Meadowes. He plucked her wand out of her hand and then patted her for any further weapons. There were none. And so he leaned against one of the four cold metal tables and murmured, "Rennervate." The stunning spell did nothing to dampen the adrenaline running through Dorcas's system and even as Yaxley lifted it, she was still very much in fighting mode. She didn't even process that she was no longer at the castle ruins and instead thought only of grabbing her wand and beating the ever loving shite out of Leoben Yaxley. But her wand was nowhere to be found. Her hands ran desperately across the ground, fingers scrabbling against dirt as reality set in. This was not the castle. This was... Her eyes found Yaxley's shoes first, her gaze travelling up his trousers and shirt and by the time she reached his face, her own eyes were wide in terror. She had no wand. She was god knows where with Leoben Yaxley and there was no way of looking at the situation that came up as anything but bad. Really, really bad. She let out a soft desperate cry as the terror that had kept her frozen in place gave way and she began scrambling back across the ground, not even bothering to get up, just frantically trying to put as much distance between herself and the Death Eater who had destroyed her entire family. Even still, she could not stop staring at his creepy, disturbingly calm face. No, that wasn't doing a damn bit of good, some vague lingering sense of reason told her as she began desperately looking for a way out. A door. Seeing the giant double doors and thinking of nothing but escape, she forced herself to her feet and bolted towards them. Leoben was still placidly calm, watching the fight run out of her face, replaced by fear. This was his favourite part. Nearly, anyway. He enjoyed watching the realisation that it was over. That they were his to do with as he liked and that no one was coming. That they were more alone than they could ever have thought possible. He stayed where he was, even as Dorcas scrambled toward the door. Of course. Escape was always the first thought. He hoped she wouldn't cling to it for very long. It was boring. This building had long been hexed for only the arrival and departure of himself (and the occasional companion). The doors not only wouldn't budge, but would start to heat themselves up after too much pounding. And so he said nothing, content to watch. She would learn for herself. And oh did Dorcas pound on them. When throwing her weight against the door didn't work, her hands curled into fists and she just beat at the heavy wood over and over again. And when her fists ached with bruised and burnt flesh, it was the palms of her hands that slammed into the door. "HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE!" she screamed over and over again until the burning heat of the door finally became too much to bear and she stumbled back, looking at Yaxley with terror and loathing and desperation. "Let me go!" she cried out, her voice wavering as tears filled her eyes. "Haven't you- Haven't you done enough?" Not that arguing or trying to reason with him had been even remotely successful so far. Once again, her eyes were wildly darting around the stables in search of some other means of escape, or some place to hide or... she didn't even know what. Just something. And then she remembered the small keychain in her pocket. Oh thank god. She was going to throw her arms around Al and thank him over and over again for every last one of his protective, brotherly instincts. And then never leave the house again. Despite the flash of relief, her hand was still shaking as she fumbled in her pocket until her fingers curled around her salvation. Again, a deep silence from Leoben, waiting for Dorcas to scream her peace, to finish her lesson that there was no escape. "No one is coming to save you," he said quietly, in some elongated pause between her screams. It was all he said, all he cared to say. Her cries for help, for safety had no affect on him whatsoever. He simply remained calm and still, though he was observing carefully. It was only then, when he saw a change and the way she reached for her pocket, that he moved. He didn't think he missed a weapon, but his search had been superficial at best. He was not going to give her the chance to turn against him. This was his game now. There were rules - and never mind that he made them up on a whim. "Crucio," he hissed, turning his wand on her. Dorcas had just managed to clutch the portkey in her pocket when the cruciatus hit and her hands curled instinctively to her chest as she crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony. Still, if she could just... All she had to do was say the word and she'd be free from this, safe from Yaxley, safe in Frank and Alice's house. She just needed to fight the horrifying pain long enough to manage one word and then, finally, in the midst of all of her incomprehensible screams was a desperately cried out, "STALWART!" She felt the start of the familiar tug behind her navel but before the portkey could carry her away, another powerful spasm of pain tore through her. She had no control over her own body as she screamed and writhed and convulsed on the ground with agony she had only known once before in her life and it felt like an eternity but could have only been an instant before the keychain - now covered in her father's blood - fell from her hand and vanished. Dorcas barely even realised it. All she knew was the pain wasn't stopping. It wasn't going away and she wasn't safe and everything hurt more than even her screams and now tears could express. Leoben held it, taking several steps closer to Dorcas's writhing figure and redoubling his concentration. It was anger and hatred, for everything she was and stood for, for marring the society that he had grown up in, for daring to spit in its face with her constant complaints. She had no idea. He kept his wand trained on her for another long minute, watching the tears stream from her eyes before finally he only tired of her screams and let it go. But he didn't stop there, instead growling "Levicorpus," and letting her face hang upside-down just out of arm's reach from him. "What was that?" he hissed. Dorcas didn't want to hang in the air. She didn't want to do anything but curl up on the floor and cry and hurt and instead she was upside down, her body still aching and her muscles still spasming even after he'd lifted the curse. But what she wanted clearly did not matter. It was only at his question that her mind was pulled from thoughts of pain and torture. The portkey. Oh god. She twisted her head to look down on the ground, desperate for any sight of it, hoping for all the world that it hadn't gone off, that it had just fallen and she would be able to grab it and get out of here and... There was nothing. No little red disc on the ground. No. Oh god no. Panic and terror set in once again and she let out a sob, her body trying to curl up on itself even in the air although she couldn't manage anything beyond her arms wrapping tightly around her chest as she gave a violent shake of her head and fresh tears filled her eyes. "Let me go. Please," she begged, not even able to think of answering his question or acknowledge the utter futility of her pleas. Leoben was having none of this. Already he was tired of her screams, of her crying and begging. She was going to ruin this for him merely be behaving like a whimpering child and he wanted none of it. He turned and hurled her down onto the floor with an aggressive sweep of his wand to send her sprawling across the (not remotely padded) floor. "You will answer me when I ask you a question," he demanded, keeping his wand on her. Hardly had he completed the sentence than he added a single word on top of it, a vicious addendum. "Crucio." There was no relief to be found in being back on the ground, not when her shoulder and head crashed painfully into the floor and a moment later, as the pain of the cruciatus tore through her body again, she found herself thinking maybe she would have been better off if she'd just cracked her head open or broken her neck or anything. She couldn't answer his question now. She couldn't do anything but thrash wildly on the ground and scream. Scream and hope desperately that the pain would just stop. One way or another. The knowledge that she was going to die here was quickly becoming undeniable. She had no means of escape, was left to the mercy of a man who possessed none and even her friends... no, that was the one thing to hold out hope for. That they would find a way to save her. They would come for her and she just had to stay alive long enough so there was something to save. Leoben held it for another long few seconds and then dropped his wand. He wasn't entirely sure what a prolonged cruciatus could do to someone and as entertaining as the notion of it was, he didn't want to find out yet. He had plans. There were things that had to happen first. And so, for a moment, he let her breathe, standing a handful of feet away. "Now you will answer me," he said, the edge of cool gone from his tone. "What was in your pocket?" As the curse was lifted again, Dorcas was left gasping for breath. Slowly and deliberately, as it took some effort to force her body into complying with her wishes, she brought her knees up toward her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs if somehow she might protect herself this way or bring some relief to her aching body. Even after his question, it still took another minute before she was able to answer. It was not that she was intending in any way to defy him. Not now. She was terrified that he would curse her again, that the respite from the pain would be all too brief. It was just that she couldn't manage words. She took a few more deep breaths and tried to control herself. And then finally, without looking at him, there was a soft, rasped answer from her raw throat. "Portkey." Leoben was nearly about to raise his wand again, the tip already twitching upwards in strained anticipation and irritation at defiance. But no. He caught the word as it fell from her lips and gave her a brief, thoughtful look. A portkey. Were they all carrying portkeys? He supposed it wasn't an entirely stupid idea. It would, at least, provide them a way around anti-apparation wards. "See, that was not so hard, was it?" he asked, almost gently, the smallest of lilts in his voice as he spoke now. "We can be pleasant so long as you do as I ask and answer my questions." For now, was the tacit addendum. "Is this standard for your side, to carry portkeys on your person?" Businesslike, all over again. Dorcas closed her eyes, curling her body more tightly on itself as he started asking her questions. It wasn't so much that question as the fear of what else he might force her to reveal, how she could be made to betray her friends just to save herself, to spare herself the agony of his cruciatus. Because she couldn't go through that again. And god, why did have to use that voice. That voice that for reasons that completely escaped all sense still seemed to trigger some bit of hope in the far reaches of her mind, that perhaps there would be some escape. That he would interrogate her and it would be horrible but when she'd told him everything she knew, he might actually let her go. It was another long moment before she finally answered. "No," she replied softly, her gaze still fixed on the ground. "It was from a friend." Which was true and yet not all at the same time. She didn't know who else in the Order actually carried a portkey on them, only that they had been made. Leoben mused silently for a moment, apparently satisfied with the answer. After all, he'd given Evangeline something very similar. And if she had any friends, he supposed they had to be aware of her incessant mouth. He pulled her wand from his pocket and stood closer to her, nudging her lightly with his highly polished toe. "Watch," he commanded, firm and insistent despite the lack of volume. He wanted her to see. He wanted her to watch him splinter her wand and throw the remaining pieces in the incinerator. And then he wanted to see how helpless she became afterwards. Dorcas instinctively cringed away from his toe, her first thought that a far more painful kick would be quick to follow. It would have been fitting, really, in its own way, as payback for how she had kicked him. But then it was just his quiet demand. She wasn't interested in watching anything Yaxley had to show her, she knew that much. She wanted to resist, and even did for a moment, refusing to look at him even as she uncurled herself and slowly sat up. But with resistance came pain - that was a lesson that had been well learnt already - and finally she tilted her head up to him, her fear and wariness evident on her tear-stained face. Leoben held her eyes for a moment and then showed her wand to her, holding it between his fingers to let her see that it was very much hers. And then he snapped it roughly in half, watching her face carefully for a moment before flicking his own wand at the incinerator in the corner. The room was immediately bathed in a warm glow as it roared to life, and with another swish (and flick) of his own wand, he levitated the splintered pieces and dropped them in, listening to the flames devour them. He nodded toward the device, in a somewhat bored attempt to direct her attention at it. "I put Christian Meadowes in that. Piece by piece," he said, with something of a smirk. Despite all of the still-lingering pain and weakness in her body, the sight of her wand stirred some spark of life in her and in a sudden burst of movement, she lunged for it, desperately trying to grab it from his hand. But it was snapped before she could even hope to reach it and she fell back to the ground. "NO!" she cried out, her face a mask of horror. Her wand. Beyond the fact that it was the only thing she'd actually managed to hold onto for thirteen years of her life, there was no hope of fighting without it. And then he kept talking. For a long moment she didn't move. She just stared at Yaxley, with murderous hatred slowly overtaking fear. She didn't need to turn and look at the incinerator to know what it was. She could feel the warmth, she could hear the fire. And at the thought of her baby brother being... dismembered and burnt, she snapped. She threw herself at Yaxley, desperately trying to knock him to the ground with what rage-fuelled strength she possessed. Leoben found her reaction mostly satisfying. It was what he'd been expecting, in any case. He wasn't sure what else he expected but to be lunged at, and he took several steps backwards. She was going to get her filth all over him. "Crucio," he snarled again, stepping out of the way so that she wouldn't fall on him. She was covered blood after all, and even if he'd spilled it himself, he didn't want it on him now. Second-hand stains? No, Ben wanted nothing of it. The curse crashed straight into her chest as she launched herself at him and she fell hard to the ground, screams once again tearing from her throat, if more hoarsely and not quite as loud this time. Thoughts of her wand and her brother were instantly gone from her mind, left only with burning, searing pain that consumed every last one of her senses. She couldn't even tell one round from the next. If this time was better because she was actually getting accustomed to the feeling or if it was worse because her nerves were so sensitive. They seemed to be equally horrifying thoughts. All she knew was that the cruciatus was far and away the worst pain she had ever experienced in her life. Worse, even, than the first full moon after being bitten, when she had been up all night in tears. Leoben held it far longer this time, pushing limits he'd never touched before. It was little more than he'd expected, but that didn't mean he enjoyed having her throw herself at him. The rules were that she would remain (relatively) safe and unharmed so long as she did as she was told. Attacking him was not part of the game. And so he stood close, keeping his wand trained on her for as long as he felt like it was an effective punishment before finally dropping his focus and allowing her to breathe. He straightened his tie and smoothed a wrinkle on his sleeve before idly pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. "I have things to attend to," he said. "Namely, to see if Mr Bones is still alive." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "We will resume our talk tomorrow. Have you anything further to say before I depart for the night?" It felt like it was never going to end. To the point where Dorcas started clawing at her own skin with her nails in some desperate attempt to free herself from the agony he was inflicting on her. And then, even after he broke off the curse, she still could not think of anything but the pain in her body. She was still shaking violently, screams fading to soft, raspy whimpers from her throat in between desperate gulps of air. His mention of Ed tore through her in a fresh wave of agony - this one purely emotional - as she realised she had very likely gotten him killed. And she hadn't even thought- She'd been so focused on herself, she didn't think about the fact that her best friend was probably dead. And it was her fault. There was a question, and Dorcas knew the penalty of refusing to answer, but she didn't have anything to say to him. She was done pleading with him. She just wanted to be left alone, to find some corner that she could drag herself into and curl up into a ball and make everything go away. But an answer was demanded and so she whispered the only words that could come to mind. "Fuck you." Leoben frowned, with a swift motion again turning her upside down to hang in front of him. "I will break that mouth of yours long before I kill you," he breathed, deadly calm as he drug the pad of his thumb over her chin and toward her lower lip. "Good night, Miss Meadowes." He dropped her - with a degree of care only to ensure he didn't snap her neck - and turned to leave, without another word. He stepped harmlessly through the double doors, letting them bang shut behind him. Shower, certainly, before bed. And perhaps a glass of scotch. Tonight had been productive. She cried out in surprise as he dragged her into the air again and god, he was touching her. Why was he touching her? If she'd had any more fight in her, she likely would have tried to bite off his damn thumb, but as it was, all she could do was try to pull her head away from him. And then she was back on the ground and he was gone and Dorcas was left alone with her pain and her thoughts. Even still, her breaths were punctuated by soft whimpers and while she wanted to move, to find somewhere in this place that might provide some small margin of comfort, or at the very least hadn't been the place where she'd just been tortured, she couldn't summon the strength and instead curled back into the fetal position. She didn't understand why he hadn't just killed her. She didn't understand why he'd keep her alive, unless it was to subject her to more of this and force her to betray her friends and that was a thought that brought the tears streaming from her eyes again. And her parents were dead. And she didn't know what had happened to Ed. And... She couldn't take it. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she began whispering over and over again to the empty room, hugging her knees tightly to her chest until she finally drifted off into a restless, nightmare-filled sleep. |