Forsaken: Chapter I
The Price He Paid
CW: Off-screen minor character death, implied/referenced death of an infant, implied eye gore, briefly implied/referenced noncon
Note: Although the start begins with mentioning he was 13, he's 23 here! That bit's just how it all started.
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Eldwin’s body did not belong to him.
He’d known that from as young as thirteen years old, when the brand burned hot on his skin. An intricate design, a permanent symbol of what he was. Whose he was. Ownership hidden beneath gloves of fine silk or rough leather.
It was when he was thirteen that he met a stranger on the train tracks, and a promise was made. Regret instantly flooded him as he stared at the searing mark, but there was no going back. A deal was struck, and his life would never be the same.
When he looked up, the stranger was already gone.
*+*
“Hello Parvier.”
The man – Johim Parvier, thirty-two. Recently widowed – stared at him in horror. It was a look Eldwin saw often these days; it was only natural when someone stands before you covered in blood, and you know that you're next. Eldwin tilted his head to one side, patiently waiting for Parvier to find his words.
“What have you done!?” Another common reaction. Eldwin almost sighed, but refrained. He was a professional, after all.
He chose not to answer. Instead, he asked a question of his own. “What do you think?”
Parvier gaped at him, his eyes wide with panic. Then he turned and bolted, racing down the dark street as fast as he could go. Eldwin watched him for a moment, before ducking down an alleyway he knew was a shortcut. He didn't need to get there first; what awaited Parvier would keep him there for some time.
The front door was already open when Eldwin got there. He sauntered inside, running his hand along the railing as he went upstairs. The smell of blood only got stronger.
“She called for you, you know.” Eldwin leaned on the side of the door frame, his arms folded. Parvier stood frozen by the bed. He didn’t make a sound.
There, lay clumsily as if she’d fallen backwards, was a woman with alabaster skin, frazzled hair and painted lips parted with the ghost of her pleas. Empty eye sockets stared at the ceiling leaking trails of blood like tears. One hand was outstretched towards an empty cot, out of her reach.
“Begged you to save her. Save your daughter. She would have made a wonderful mother; in her final moments, despite being in terrible pain, she still tried to comfort her precious girl.”
Parvier breathed heavily. A low-pitched wail tore from his throat, a sound no man should even be able to make. Then he turned and launched himself at Eldwin, who remained in the doorway and didn’t move as Parvier’s hand enclosed around his throat.
“Where is she!?” Parvier demanded, tears streaming down his red cheeks. “What did you do!?”
“Rosie, was it? Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing her soon enough.” Eldwin brought his knee into Parvier’s crotch with full force causing him to release his hold with a stream of expletives. A well-placed kick with steel-lined boots sent him crashing to the floor. Eldwin straddled his waist to pin him, earning a scream as he pierced his hand with a dagger, through his palm to the floor. With one hand he pressed a knife to his throat. Black chains sprung from thin air, coiling around Parvier’s kicking legs like snakes, painfully tight, squeezing his arms and rendering him immobile. He stifled a whine as Eldwin dug the blade in just enough to draw a trickle of crimson seeping down his neck. “Was it worth it? What did they offer you that you didn’t already have? Sanctuary? Freedom? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I wanted a new life! Five years contract, I’d be done by the time Rosie’s in school! These people, your people, they’re all monsters, all of them! I thought-” His voice broke off into sobs. Eldwin rolled his eyes. Why he never just killed them quickly, he didn't know. “We would move away, out of the city, away from all this!”
“What a nice thought,” Eldwin said dryly, “But that doesn’t tell me why you thought you could get away with it. You were doing so well. In five years, you could have been an executive, and the world would be at your fingertips. But you’ve gone and thrown it all away.” He retraced the dagger from his neck, twirling it to get a better grip.
“I trusted you,” Parvier spat venom despite his quivering voice. “I took pity on you! No wonder you were always alone. You’re the worst of them all!"
“For what it’s worth, I had nothing against you. You brought this on yourself.” He raised the dagger, point reflected in Parvier’s terrified pupil. “Perhaps you'll be able to protect your family in your next life."
“Wait, wait wait wait, please!”
Eldwin paused. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a moment. The end result would be the same.
“Rosie,” he said weakly, “Please, she's not here, where is she, you- you can grant me that at lea-”
His eyes glinted in the silver blade. Blood spurted with a curdling scream.
*+*
“You’re late.”
Eldwin dropped to one knee, fist enclosed over his his thumping heart and his head bowed.
“I’m sorry sir,” he replied automatically.
“Silence,” Clyde ordered. “I didn’t tell you to speak.”
You never do. A flash of irritation coursed through him. I’m just somehow supposed to know, and I get punished both for not speaking and for speaking out of turn. He didn’t say that, of course. Never mind the fact that he got his job done, he was late. In a world that expects nothing less than perfection, the smallest error was written down as a failure. A weakness that must be corrected.
“Well? Report.”
It was only a simple job. Frankly, well below his level. “The mission went smoothly,” Eldwin said, careful to keep his tone level. “The targets were killed, all evidence disposed of. It was an easy task; there is nothing else of note.”
“Johim Parvier?”
Yes, he knew who his targets were. “Dead.”
“The wife?”
“Also dead. Do you not trust me?”
Eldwin felt Clyde’s gaze boring into him. “The child.”
Without missing a beat, “Dead.”
Eldwin tensed as Clyde walked from behind his desk to stand directly in front of him. Cruel fingers grasped his chin, forcing his head up.
"Liar."
The sound of his skin being struck reverberated through the office. His cheek stung, and he resisted the urge to wipe away whatever trickled down his face. He breathed out slowly, determined to not make a sound.
Clyde grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back. “You didn’t do it, did you? You were too weak to do what was needed.”
“She’s not even a year old!” Eldwin snapped, anger rising within him. He wrenched himself away from Clyde’s grasp. For a long moment he met Clyde’s dull eyes, his own blazing with fury. “What is she going to do? She won’t remember any of this. Both parents are dead, both died believing she was or will be killed. Why do we need to go further?”
He doubled over as a swift kick collided with his stomach, expelling the air from his lungs. No matter how he braced, the effect was the same. A bitter taste filled his mouth with twisting nausea and for a second he thought he would throw up. As he instinctively moved to protect his abdomen another kick to his side sent him crashing inelegantly to the floor. He tried to push himself up, trying to catch some air but all he could do was curl in on himself, arms over to protect his head, knees up to his chest.
“You don’t get to make those decisions!” Clyde landed blow after blow. “You don’t get to question me, think you know better. You. Are. Mine! Your only purpose is to follow my orders!” His voice rose with every word until he was yelling, boiling rage pushing him to his limit. “What did you do with her?” Another hard kick to his ribs. “Answer me!”
“I’m not telling you,” Eldwin managed. He gasped for breath, pulling himself up on all fours. His arms trembled beneath him. Even if he did, Clyde was unlikely to actually do anything. Even he would have to admit there was no point in tracking her down now. It wasn’t about her. It was about Eldwin daring to have a mind of his own. Knowingly and purposefully disobeying his orders. The child would live, but Eldwin was not allowed to make that decision. So he would pay the price.
“Is that so?”
Predictably, Eldwin ended up on the floor again, this time on his back with Clyde’s polished boot planted on his throat. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands by his head while his airways were cut off. His face burned, his lungs fought for oxygen, and he had to stay still. Ignore his body’s most primal instinct. It was easier said than done. But he was experienced.
“You take me for a fool.” Clyde pressed down harder and if his airways weren’t currently being crushed Eldwin might have let out a whimper. Fortunately, Clyde had taken care of that. “I let you have freedom, more than you deserve and mark my words, I can take it back just as easily. If you pull anything like this again, you will regret having taken me for granted, I promise you that.” He let go.
Immediately Eldwin rolled over, coughing and wheezing. He was able to get to his knees. He didn’t dare to stand. He bowed so low the ends of his hair brushed the ground. His body ached. This was only the start, he knew. It would be worse later. At least he didn’t think anything was broken.
“Get up,” Clyde hissed. Eldwin tentatively straightened, unsure if he should stand or not. The decision was made for him when he was roughly pulled up by the collar of his shirt. Clyde kept a tight hold, dragging him down the hall. The office building was mostly empty at the late hour, but there were a few stragglers they passed. Some pointedly didn’t look. Most watched them leave with disdain. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see. Likely, they wondered why Clyde didn’t have better control over his pet project – it’s not that he couldn’t. He chose not to.
Eldwin often wondered the same thing.
The dark cell was like a second home. In some ways, he preferred it to his nice room at the manor – at least this one looked like a prison. Chains hung from the ceiling, shackles on the wall, and a cabinet with some favourite supplies stood out of reach of any of the restraints.
He wasn’t a minimalist, but he could see the appeal. The dingy, vaguely damp atmosphere had a certain charm.
Clyde shoved him to his knees in the centre. A metal collar lay on the floor, attached to a chain. Longer cuffs hung above him. His arms were pulled taut behind his back, in the cuffs hanging from the ceiling, then he leaned down as much as he could as the collar was secured around his neck. It was a position that was uncomfortable from the start, already tugging on his shoulders. It would be killer later. He had a sneaking suspicion that was probably the point.
A gag was shoved into his mouth, iron bit clinking against his teeth. The gag fitted around his face like a muzzle, with metal inside pinning his tongue so he could not speak. It was one of his least favourite instruments, more so when Clyde attached a thin chain to the back of it, stretching it to attach the other end to his wrists, pulling his head back. Any movement would disturb the gag, scraping and tearing the inside of his mouth while the cuffs around his wrists would rub deep. He had the chains on his wrist trying to keep him up, while the one attached to his collar wanted to drag him to the floor.
Next, black cloth was tied around his head, covering his eyes. Rather pointless, seeing as the room would be dark enough when the door closed, but it made Clyde feel good, and it’s not like Eldwin could say anything anyway.
“You forget your place. You don’t get to make choices, to decide who’s punished, who lives and who dies. I gave you the chance to be useful. Do you know what happens to people who are not useful? Most are killed, or sold. Slaves. Lab rats. The only way they can find some value in their miserable lives. Is that what you want?
“Never forget that my word is the only thing keeping you safe. I have been lenient, but you can only push me so far.” Clyde’s footsteps receded, and his voice was more distant, but no less firm. The loud anger was gone, replaced with a cold, underlying tone that only said danger. “Be grateful for what you’ve been given, and don’t try to be someone you’re not. Think about your actions tonight. Decide whether it was worth it. Because believe me, if this happens again there will be no more chances.”
The room shook as the heavy door slammed shut. Eldwin exhaled slowly. He twisted his wrists, ignoring the stinging pain in his mouth to try in vain for a slightly more comfortable position. The clanking of chains was the only sound to break the stuffy silence. He soon gave up. His body ached with the dull throb of forming bruises – no doubt he’d be decorated by morning. His arms were already growing numb.
Was it worth it. Another question he asked himself a lot. It was easy to say no. Every time he spoke without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the expression on Clyde’s face. Every broken bone, every gash through his skin. Every time he nearly suffocated in his own fear, every hard-earned lesson he would still learn to this day, over and over again until it’s drilled into his skull. Every day spent in the lab, coming out feeling nauseous and trembling, unable to get out of bed as his body refused to obey him. Every time he stumbled from someone else’s room, sick to his stomach with an encompassing hollow within, it’s your own fault-
Watching the light drain from someone’s eyes beneath his hands. The rush it gives him, and the accompanying guilt for feeling that way.
Every time he looked in the mirror, and didn’t recognise the person staring back. He would ask himself that very same question – is it worth it, while he takes off his glove and glares at the mark, the reminder of the choice he made. When thinking of that night, the night on the train tracks, he thinks about why. He thinks of bright eyes shining with admiration, the sound of children’s laughter. He remembers the quiet cries at night, from one not knowing they could be heard. The utter helplessness he felt.
Tiny fingers curling in his cloak, unaware of the world they missed.
He wouldn’t linger on that question anymore. He wasn't sure he could accept the answer.
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