Harry Dresden (i_wizard) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-03-28 15:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry dresden |
In the Hands of the Red [narrative]
Memories were vague. Being passed from claw to claw, thrown, carried into the air, toyed with. Memories of snuffling, squashed snouts, and staring, empty black eyes. Hissing. Laughter. Figures in the dark pressing him down as he struggled and screamed, all useless, his mind too full of terror to focus, to defend himself. Down, deep in the dark, where they tore away his clothes, pressed their naked bodies against his, heated, sensuous dream-bodies that unraveled into nightmares. He felt the skin split and burst apart around their true forms. Sweet perfumes gave way to a rotten-fruit reek.
And their tongues. Soft, intimate, warm, moist. Pleasure that struck like hammers while he tried to scream against it. Chemical pleasure, animal sensation, heartless and cold, uncaring of his horror, revulsion, despair.
Harry didn't know where real life left off and the nightmares began, but he thrashed himself awake, screaming a scratchy hollow scream that made little more noise than a whimper. He screamed until he ran out of breath, and then all he could do was sob.
Dinah, some portion of his brain whispered. They took Dinah.
No one was coming to hold him. No one was coming to make it all better. No one had, not since Malcolm Dresden had died. Harry knew he was going to have to save himself.
Breathing first, then. He forced himself to control it, to stop the racking sobs and draw in slow, steady breaths. Next came the terror. The pain. Humiliation. More than anything, he wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after. He wanted to be not.
But Harry wasn't not. He hurt too much. He was very painfully, very acutely, very much alive.
Dinah. Vampires. Red Court.
Harry tested his limbs, and found them all present and functional. Cold steel clamped on his wrists, and as he felt with his fingers, the chain connecting them was looped around a thick metal bar. It was a start. Harry had none of his tools - everything had been torn away by the monsters.
Using evocation was normally a risk in these kinds of situations. Harry was a magical thug, with plenty of power, and not so much finesse. But since his apprentice was a sensitive, it had given Harry the challenge of working hard on his control. Without his blasting rod or his staff to focus, there was still plenty of risk involved. But at this point, caught by the remains of the Red Court, with Dinah out there somewhere, the need to free himself was greater.
Harry drew in his will, slid his right hand as far from the bad as he could, letting his already scarred left hand rest against it. He focused force into a thin beam, a wedge to slice the metal holding him, and released it in a whispered "Forzare!" The wedge was thicker than he'd wanted, but the magic, combined with his own fear and panic, slammed into the bar. It dented wildly, pulling Harry's wrists along with it. He bit his tongue to hold in a yell when the cuff bit into his wrists. The shriek of the metal bending had been loud enough - there was no time for more precision. Harry called up his will and slammed another shot of force into the bars, this time from the opposite direction. The bar screeched again, but this time it snapped under the pressure. Hearing footsteps, Harry shifted his hands to try and hide the warping and the split of the metal, and shut his eyes to feign unconsciousness.
A door opened. Harry Listened. The creature looking in sniffed at the air, then took a few tentative steps closer. Harry thought fast, wondering how to kill this one if it came too close, without letting anyone else here realize he was awake.
"Mason!"
The creature in the room spun, sighing. "I was only going to have a taste, Diego. Just a little bite."
Harry wasn't certain what happened, but there was a thud close by as 'Mason' fell, shouting in pain. "The wizard stays as he is," Diego answered. "The King wants him to see the rite. Only then, does he become one of us."
Harry froze. It was impossible. He'd killed the Red King. The Red King, the Lords of Outer Night, they had all died in the bloodline curse. He'd been there. He'd seen it. The King... had he been brought here? Just before the curse had reached him?
The vampire left the room, shutting the door behind him. Harry barely noticed. A new swell of rage was coursing through him, and he tore himself away from the bars. The handcuffs still held his wrists, but at least they were in front of him. This was something he could work with.
Listening at the door a bit longer, Harry heard when the hall was emptied again. He tried the doorknob, but found it locked. Of course. Well, there was no time like the present. He pointed at the door, and called out, "Ventas servitas!" There was a roar of wind, and the wooden door shattered, splintering outwards into the empty hallway. A few light bulbs burst as well, but the hall was still better illuminated than his dank cell had been. Harry stepped through the shattered door, just as Mason rushed into the hall. Harry shot him a grin, and said again."Ventas servitas!" A gale swept through the narrow hall, sweeping the vampire off his feet and into the far wall with bone-shattering force. Mason hit the floor, and jumped back to his feet, glaring at Harry. The wizard pointed his right hand at the vampire, and snarled, "Fuego"
A beam of fire, only wide as Harry's finger and burning white-hot, struck the vampire, cutting him in half. Blood rushed out of the body, and the two parts slumped to the ground, twitching in death throes.
Harry leaned against the wall for a moment. Normally, he would be reeling about now, but that didn't seem to be the case. He hadn't been the Winter Knight long, but he could certainly approve of the fringe benefits. There was a door to the left of him. Inside, Harry found most of his gear, and some spare clothing that had probably been a waiter's uniform. Black pants and a white shirt. At least they were clean. His rings, bracelet, and duster were there, and Harry wasted no time in putting them on. One of the silver rings provided enough kinetic energy to break the chain connecting his handcuffs, and Harry even had a bit of a bounce in his step when he exited the room.
There was a sharp crack, and his right leg had already collapsed under him when Harry identified it as a suppressed gunshot. He threw himself backwards, into the room again, as another shot cracked the door frame. Harry clamped a hand over his leg, expecting pain, but his leg was numb at the moment. He'd been shot enough to know that it would be screaming in a few moments.
Wait a minute. He'd been shot. All at once, Harry felt better. Cheerful, even. Things were getting back on track. He'd been unharmed for far too long, and now, finally, he felt like things were back to normal. It made him smile.
"Wizard!" The voice of Diego called. "The King wants you alive. I would hate to kill you."
"Good!" Harry called back. "I'd hate to die!"
"Ah, we agree! Come out, Wizard Dresden. Throw away your tools, and I will take you to him."
"You mean, you'll put down your gun, and I'll put down my staff, and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people?"
Sadly, some people just couldn't appreciate pop culture. "I grow weary, wizard. I would prefer not to kill you, but I will take pleasure in it. Will you come out?"
Harry's leg was starting to burn. The bullet had gone through some muscle, but seemed to have missed the major arteries. He knew this by virtue of still being alive to notice. Walking was going to hurt, but pain... oh, hell's bells, he could deal with that later.
Activating his shield bracelet, Harry pushed himself to his feet. He hobbled into the doorway, and glanced towards the vampire. Diego was kneeling, holding a pistol in one hand, aimed directly at Dresden. The cold fear at staring down a gun didn't quite register anymore. "Get used to disappointment," Harry snarled, and released the kinetic energy stored in half his rings straight at Diego.
The force literally crushed the vampire. Diego slammed into himself before striking the back wall. Blood oozed out of his skin, bits of bone erupting from the flesh. Harry's stomach churned at the sight. If there had been anything in his stomach, he was certain he would have thrown up. Monsters, he reminded himself. Vampires. Red freaking Court. They deserved it.
It was enough to help him limp out of the hall, and up the stairway past the bodies. Still holding his shield around him, Harry turned a corner and found himself in a kitchen. A large kitchen. It was empty, save for a young woman who was staring at him in horror. She turned to run, but Harry spat out with "ventas servitas" and the ensuing wind had pushed the woman back in his direction. She was crying, each breath a whimper, but she turned to face him. "P-p-please," she begged. "Don't hurt me!"
Harry felt his anger slacken. This was no vampire. She would have tried to kill him already. "Come here," he said, trying to make it sound like an order. Damnit, he couldn't stand scaring women. She approached slowly, flinching with each step. Harry recognized her then - she was the waitress from the Velvet Palace. Judging by the decor and the kitchen, that's where he still was. "Where did they take Dinah?"
Her eyes opened in fear. "I... I don't know," she said, still crying. "I didn't know they were going to hurt them. I just told them who was in love, and when I told Kim, she tried to leave, and they, they--" She looked towards the back doors, her face stricken with horror. And Harry couldn't feel angry at this woman anymore. He reached out and touched her hand, feeling the tingle that proved she was a practitioner. Only faintly, likely just enough of an empath to help the vampires pick their targets.
Hell's bells. "How many girls do they have?"
"S-s-seven. Your girlfriend is seven. Diego said they only needed two more."
Harry shook his head. "Me and Dinah are just working together. They need--" Then he stopped. Looked at the woman. "Dinah? And me?"
She nodded, blinking a bit. "Yes."
Hell's stars and fucking stones bells.
"Where are they?" Harry asked again.
She shook her head violently. "I don't know! They never told me!"
Harry believed her. He let out his breath. "Go home," he said. "Don't come back here again. Ever. If anyone comes after you..." He passed her one of his cards. "What's your name?"
She took the card slowly, stunned. "Isabelle. You... you can stop them?"
Harry nodded. "I can. I will. Get home before the sun sets." As Isabelle fled out the back doors, Harry took a lump of chalk out of his pocket. Dinah had been wearing her bracelet. Since it was linked to his, no shielding spells would keep him from tracking it.
He made a circle on the ground, and closed it with a drop of his will. Then he lifted his left wrist, letting the shield charms on his bracelet dangle. Focusing on the connection, Harry shut his eyes and gathered his will. He concentrated on the link between the bracelets, the enchantments, the link between him and Dinah. "Interessari, interessarium," he whispered, letting the spell flow into the bracelet. The charms rattled, then spun on their links. After a moment, they settled. As one, they began to lean in one direction. Harry smiled a bit, and broke the circle with his foot, smudging the chalk line. The charms continued to lean.
Keys in his duster pocket. The Beetle was still in the parking lot. Harry was glad he'd left the blasting rod within. Now it was just a matter of following the spell to Dinah before the sun set.