Aberforth Dumbledore - he knows everything (theoldgoat) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-11-12 10:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-11] november, aaron pryce, aberforth dumbledore |
Who: Aaron Pryce & Aberforth Dumbledore
When: 11 November 1979, afternoon
Where: Stratford-on-Avon
What: Abe indulges his Gryffindor side and extracts a little revenge.
Rating: R for violence
Status: Complete
Aberforth grabbed his cloak and shot out the door of Rhisiart's home, making sure he had the little kit of surgical tools he'd bought earlier. He knew where Tabitha's little lapdog was and he would never get a better opportunity than this to extract a little revenge. The more cunning Slytherin side of his brain was suggesting that this could well be a very bad idea but it was overwhelmed by his anger, his grief... and the weed he'd been smoking in honour of Agnes. Right now, he was as impulsive a Gryffindor as ever there had been. Right now he was the person who would walk right into the middle of a fight between two wizards far more powerful than him.
He ducked into the nearest alley and apparated to Stratford-on-Avon. Thankfully it was a town he knew, though he hadn't been there for some time, and he knew where the tourist areas were. If people had been talking to Pryce about Shakespeare then it was most likely that he was near the theatre where Shakespeare's work had been shown.
Once he was near the theatre, he ducked into another alley, watching the crowd go by. It didn't take long to find the werewolf. Even though he was a Muggle, he just didn't fit in. There was a wild air about him that made him stand out. A slow calculating smile crossed Aberforth's face and he walked out of the alley, ambling along the street in plain sight. Easiest way to lure a wolf was with bait. He'd just saunter along the street until he was sure Aaron was following him then lead him somewhere out of the way and ambush him.
Werewolves like the Pryces embraced their animal side more than certain others, and a lone wolf would always try to pick off an older or weaker member of a herd, rather than go for the young, strong bucks. And Aaron was tired of laying low, tired of ignoring the urge to kill and really fucking tired of this stupid fucking town, so when he spotted an old man walking on his own, he closed his journal without worrying about whether ink was going everywhere, shoved it into the backpack he'd taken from one of his younger victims and got to his feet, ignoring the others. It had been too long since he'd felt blood beneath his hands; it was time for a new hunt, a fresh kill.
Aberforth hid his smile; the wolf had taken the bait and now he was going to ensure that he choked on it. He continued sauntering along the street then he turned down a side street and ducked into the first alley he came across. He darted down into the depths of the alley and behind a large, rather smelly garbage bin. He then pulled his wand out and waited for the werewolf to walk into the alley. He let the werewolf approach until he was out of immediate view of the street and then he stepped out from behind the bin and pointed his wand at the wolf. "Stupefy!"
Aaron had about a moment to snarl and think how much he really fucking hated wizards before the spell hit. It was always his weakness, fighting wizards as a human; they had magic on their side. When he was a wolf, he had speed and agility, but as a human, he didn't have any means of fending off the spell.
Aberforth waited a moment after Pryce went down and once he was sure the wolf was down for the count, he hurried forward and grabbed hold of Pryce's arm. It took only a moment to apparate him to an old abandoned house he knew of and part of his brain found it amusing that he chose the house where he'd met Rhisiart all those decades ago. He'd been escaping a werewolf on that night when he'd found a friend in a vampire. How ironic that he would bring a werewolf here now.
He levitated Pryce down to the basement and dumped him on the floor until he found a sturdy chair upside down in the corner. He dragged the chair out into the middle of the room and set it upright then he stuck is firmly to the floor with a little magic. He then levitated Pryce into the chair and bound him there tightly, again using magic. He then dug around the basement for a table, which he set up beside the chair so that it was both handy and so Pryce could see everything that was on it.
He then set things up. He placed the hammer and screwdriver he'd found on his search in prominant potsitions then he pulled the surgical kit he'd obtained out of his robes. He opened it up and placed it in full view of Pryce. Only then did he turned to the werewolf and wake him with a quick Ennervate. He wiated while the wolf woke up, not saying a word, just staring grimly at the bound man.
Aaron woke with a snarl, sounding more animal than human for a moment. When his head cleared, he eyed the things on the table and then the wizard standing in front of him.
"About time you lot got some balls," he sneered. Whatever the wizard had planned, it wasn't as though he could exactly stop him, or talk him out of it. "What's it to be, old man?"
Old man. He reminded Aaron of his father, greying and with angry eyes, but Aaron's father had never had the fucking guts to do anything. The wizard's grim stare was returned by one full of hatred.
Aberforth didn't bother to answer the wolf. He'd expected bravado but he'd learned a few things during the wars and one of those things was that silence was a very powerful weapon. He contimued to stand and stare for a moment then he stepped silently over to the table and picked up a small knife. He held it up the light coming in the tiny windows high up on the walls, ostensibly examining the edge on the blade. He then pointed his wand at the werewolf and gave it a flick, concentrating hard to cast the spell he wanted wordlessly.
He knew he'd succeeded when the ropes writhed and shifted, still binding Pryce tight to the chair but giving him more room to work. He then leaned forward and with an almost interested look on his face, he cut the front of Pryce's shirt away. He then cut the sleeves away, working around the ropes on his shoulders and wrists. Once that was done, he put the knife away and picked up one of the scalpels.
Silence, was it? That just reinforced his likeness to Aaron's father, who had always been so fucking quiet and did this fucking pansy in a dress think that Aaron was scared of him? Aaron didn't do fear; he wasn't even scared of Fenrir, for all Fenrir was their alpha. Respect, sure, but not fear. And he sure as fuck wasn't scared of some old man who had to do his dirty work on someone who couldn't even fight back.
Aberforth stepped forward and brought the scalpel down so that the blade was resting lightly against the skin in the middle of Aaron's chest. He pushed down slightly, breaking the skin and watching as blood welled around the blade. He then drew the scalpel down Aaron's chest for about three inches before removing it, giving a nod of approval. The blades were as sharp as he'd anticipated.
He placed the scalpel at the top of the wound he'd just created and pressed down harder until he felt the blade hit bone. "Your wife killed someone I cared about," he said in a cold clinical voice as he drew the blade down the wound again, more blood welling out of the wound. "I suppose I could have run around uselessly trying to track her down but it just seems more reasonable that if she killed someone I cared about, that I should kill someone she cares about. Turnabout is fair play after all."
The sound Aaron made was more animal than human, a snarling roar of pain. He spat in the wizard's face, his own expression twisted almost beyond recognition with pain and hatred.
"And you can't take your vengeance like a fucking man, can you?"
Abe gave a quick flick of his wand to clean up the spittle, paying it little mind. He also paid little mind to what Pryce had to say. One of the other things he'd learned is that ignoring the insults of your enemy was unnerving.
"You and your lot don't fight like men so why shouldn't I play by your rules. If they're fair enough for you, they're fair enough for me, hmm?" he said with mild interest as he placed the scalpel on Pryce's shoulder and cut down once again, watching the blood run down his skin with detached interest. And he was rather emotionally detached by now. He had to be. He could not be Aberforth Dumbledore, amiable publican, right now. If he was, he'd stop and that would defeat the purpose of this.
Aaron snarled again, twisting against the ropes, looking as though he was going to try to bite Aberforth.
"We don't tie people up to kill them," he spat. "We just get the fuck on with it."
"Hmm, true enough," Abe replied as he drew the scalpel down in two quick moves to join up with the first cut he'd made, creating a bizarre parody of a Y-incision. "But that is because you are a savage."
He placed the scalpel down on the table then considered the tools he had at his disposal. He made a small thoughtful sound then gave a flick of his wand that had the ropes writhing again, dragging Pryce's hand over to the table and forcing it flat against the wood. Abe nodded in satisfaction and picked up the hammer. "You know, it's been a long time since I've done this. Of course, I was after information last time. This time... I don't really care about that." With that, he raised the hammer and brought it down hard against Pryce's shoulder. He knew the werewolf would have been expecting him to aim for his hand and a little of the unexpected was a good thing.
Aaron let out a roar of pain as the bone in his shoulder shattered with a sickening, wet crunching sound. Despite the pain -- or perhaps because of it, because animals fought more when they were in pain, and there was no denying that Aaron Pryce was more animal than human sometimes -- he twisted enough in the ropes to sink his teeth into Aberforth's wrist, biting down hard and yanking.
Aberforth grunted when Pryce sank his teeth into his wrist and for a moment he tried to pull away. Then he let his wrist go with the motion and used his other hand to backhand Pryce solidly across the side of the head. Only then did he pull his wrist away. He examined it for a moment. The flesh was ripped and torn, messy and bloody but the mood he was in at the moment meant that the pain was nothing more than a dull throb. He'd feel it later but for now he merely pointed his wand at the wounds and bound his wrist in bandages.
"That was something of a mistake," he said calmly. "Now I'll have to gag you." He pointed his wand at Pryce and a moment later the werewolf was gagged. He then raised the hammer again and brought it down square in the middle of Pryce's hand.
The gag may have stopped Aaron from biting, but it didn't do much to muffle the bestial roars of pain. Aaron fought against the ropes, snarling, the hatred in his eyes replaced by sheer animal frenzy.
Aberforth stepped back and eyed the wolf. It was easy to see that the man was almost entirely lost to the beast and he wasn't surprised that it had happened so quickly. The last time he'd done this, the man had held out for much longer. He placed the hammer on the table and considered what to do. It was pointless trying to pound an idea into the mind of an animal. Animal didn't understand rationality. But then the point of this was more to send a message to Tabitha.
He looked down at Aaron's hand and picked up the scalpel again. "Dear, dear. I seem to have done quite a bit of damage there," he said clinically. "I'll have to fix it." He placed the scalpel on Aaron's wrist. He had to move quickly with this. He cut deeply with the scalpel, picking up and using the other implements as needed until he had completely severed Aaron's hand. Once he was done, he pointed his wand at the stump and cauterised it. He didn't want Pryce dead after all. He wouldn't be much of a message if he was dead.
A mere scrap of cloth wasn't nearly enough to keep back Aaron's agonised screaming. By the time Abe got to cauterising, there was nothing of humanity left in Aaron's eyes, just the beast, snarling and raging at the human who was hurting it.
And then Aberforth started cauterising the wound, and even the beast had its limits. Aaron's body promptly decided that that was quite enough for one day, and he passed out.
It wasn't difficult to work out when Pryce passed out. The sudden cessation of the noise was a clear indicator. Abe tucked his wand into his sleeve and transfigured a small pice of rubbish into a box. He placed Pryce's hand inside the box and set a preserving charm on it. He tehn cleaned up his instruments and tucked the kit away in his robes.
Once he was ready, he released the bonds keeping Pryce in the chair and levitated him up and out of the basement. He placed Pryce on the ground and placed his hand on the man's chest, apparating both of them to a field near where he'd been attacked by the two vampires a few months ago.
He then straightened up and looked down at Pryce for a moment before apparating back to London. He had an owl to send to Tabitha. She needed to come and collect her husband.