Otherworld: Part Eight

[minviendha]

It takes me a little longer to find Viviane. Finally, I swallow my distaste and push into the middle of the encampment of bunkhouses where I’ve seen the soldiers retreat at night, and there she is, staked to the ground by a silver peg to keep her from digging it up, a few feet of heavy chain linked to the collar around her neck. I cringe to look at her.

                What used to be a lithe, healthy body has wasted away to shreds like those of the once pink rag around her shoulders. She is but a coat of bruised skin over muscle and bone, and much less of the former, burned off by weeks of too little food that can’t sustain a faster than human metabolism. The rational parts of me notes that as a problem. The majority of me just gibbers with fear.

                I can see her nostrils flare, taking in my scent, but she doesn’t lift her head for a moment longer. When she does, I can’t help stumbling back. Her face is ravaged but still savaged pretty, teeth now bared. But it’s her eyes that frighten me; her eyes blazing with whirling, unadulterated hatred and rage, and savage, savage hunger. She’s chained, but whatever the soldiers think, she’s not beaten. Oh, no.

                I wonder for the first time if I’ll get away from her alive and sane. I’ll have to talk fast, get her attention now before she works herself into more of a deadly frenzy or smells my fear.

                Her eyes sharpen. Ah, shit.

                Too late.

                Her voice is a malevolent hiss. “So. The rat decides to come back to the nest. See her prize she gathered with her beady eyes and nose poking where they shouldn’t be. But one day…oh, one day. The trap will close and snap!” I jump, and she gives a soft, hoarse laugh. “I hope I will taste your blood, someday. I hope that I will rip out your throat and watch your eyes glaze over as my Pack feasts on your entrails. It will be no more than you deserve, little rat.”

                I blanch. Struggle to keep my voice steady. “Viviane, I came to say-“

                Her eyes are half closed, glazed with a yellow film. Her smile is cruel and hard. “No, don’t speak. I like a silent hunt. Nothing but your heart pounding, your breath sharp, and the smell of…fear…in the air…” Her voice rolls over me, wrapping tendrils of terror around my mind so I can hardly think. I struggle to break free, feeling like a deer staring into the lion’s eyes. I draw a deep, ragged breath.

                “I wanted to tell you…” My voice sounds high and desperate in my own ears. Viviane’s laughter rolls through the falling darkness. I can see her moving, the soft clink of her chain as she gets to her feet, but I can’t move. “Wanted to tell you that…” I can’t think. Then suddenly, she fades into the darkness and vanishes.

                “Frightened, little rat? Run and hide. Run. The blood pumping through your body will only make my feast richer. You have no escape. There is nowhere to hide. I am chained now, but when I am free…you will die in pain and terror.” Her voice is all around me, and I spin in circles, breathing fast, adrenaline pumping, terrified.

                “Viviane? Viviane, come out! Let me talk to you!” I cry into the darkness, desperately. There is no answer except for a soft snarl all around in the dark, sliding across my skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

                She explodes out of the darkness with nary a sound, one arm wrapping around my neck tightly while the other sweeps out of the darkness and as I drag myself back, trying to flail at her face, find her eyes or her wrist, anything. Wolf-claws rip at my shirt, my skin, leaving furrows of pain but I can’t scream until I yell, “TAINE TOLD ME TO COME!”  as loudly as I dare.

                Silence falls. She vanishes again. I lie on my back, panting frantically, and push myself to my feet. The darkness lifts a little as I draw closer to the post and I catch the gleam of chain and collar and hear the harsh whisper of her breath.

                “Taine spoke to you.” Her voice is flat and toneless, but I catch the barest hint of a tremble. “Told you to come here.”

                I nod, then swallow hard. “Yes.”

                “Why?”

                I swallow again, trying to resist the urge to back away. I feel a hot trickle of blood down my cheek but try to ignore it for now. “He said you owe him a sunny life in Hell.”

                There is a long silence. I hear a soft coughing noise, then I realize that it’s laughter. Harsh, ragged laughter. I catch a hint of her mouth, twisting in a smile.

                “He said that?”

                “Yes,” I whisper.

                “Ah, yes. The bastard. He knew. He knew, damn him.” Her voice sounds strangely pleased. “So he’s planning. I thought he’d been leashed. Should have known better, I suppose. Why you?” She asks suddenly, sharply.

                I hesitate. “Who else is there?”

                She seems satisfied with that non-answer, and is silent for a while. “So what does he want me to do? I can’t exactly do what I like.”

                I take a deep breath. “I’m going to help get you out of here. All of you. I don’t know how, yet. But-“ I stop as she snorts softly.

                “Liar. You’re human. Kindness and mercy are foreign concepts to you.”

                I twitch, stung. “You’re one to talk about mercy as if you know what the word means!”

                There is sudden silence. Then she laughs softly. It is a mirthless sound. “You know nothing,” she says, too softly. “Nothing. Always, ignorance is the trademark of your kind. What reason have you ever given us to show you mercy? You, who have never showed us any? If our positions were reversed, if we were in your thrall, how much of my Pack would live still? How many did die in the years where we were forced to hide what we were?”

                “You eat humans!”

                “You might as well. I know little about humans, but I know enough to know that in all their wars, they have spilled more blood into the ground than all the vampires have even drunk, that you have killed far more needlessly than werewolves ever have to survive. Do the deer hate the wolves? No. You lived too long without predators.”

                “I’ve heard stories –“

                “So have I!” she snaps. “Stories of werewolves skinned and hung on doors as a warning, or a curse. Stories of Selkies in seal shape harpooned by seal hunters in the Arctic, or of young Selkies torn from their Pod and displayed as curiosities until they die because they won’t eat. Stories of Dryad forests ripped from the ground to make space for fat cows and weak humans. How many of Taine’s ancestors do you think were stabbed through the heart, burned, staked out in the sun to die screaming in agony as they burned? How many of Keearh’s were shot from the sky, mistaken for birds, their feathers pulled from still living wings because they are long and beautiful, to adorn a lady’s hair? You know nothing. Nothing.”

                I cringe. “I never thought of that.”

                Her snort is not so much amused as a sneer of anger and derision. “Obviously. Humans never do.” She turns away, pacing in the other direction. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you.”

                I step back, involuntarily. “Because I’m going to help you out of here. This place is bad, wrong, and I don’t like being trapped.”

                I can see her lip curl as she looks back at me. “Tell a better lie. Did you think of that one yourself, or did they come up with it for you?”

                Frustration roars to the surface. “How can I convince you that I’m telling the truth?” I demand, stamping my foot.

                She turns around, her eyes suddenly calculating, a queer sort of intelligence that I haven’t seen before lurking behind the savagery on the surface. Not human intelligence, but not less, either. Just different. “Ask Taine what happened the first time I saw him. If you can tell me that, then I will know. If you are lying, though...” A malevolent smile tips the corners of her mouth upwards. I shiver.

                Even in human shape, I can see her ears prick. “Get out of here,” she snaps. “Someone’s coming.” I hurry back into the darkness, but I pause and look back. The ferocity of a moment before is gone. Viviane lies curled on the gravel, whimpering softly and looking totally and completely beaten. I can’t help a shudder as I hurry away, certain now more than ever that Viviane is more dangerous than even the stronger Keearh.

That's the last of it, so far. I'll make a post for comments above, to save my email. :D And if you got all the way through it, I love you. I am very open to criticism on this.