Status: Slowly Active.
I Hope They Taste of Me Forever
Chapter Thirty-Four
How much time had passed, I wondered? Weeks? Days? Hours? Memories forced their way from the depths of my mind to right before my eyes, memories of the last time I’d been in this place. The dark, the cold, the smell. Even the timelessness, it was exactly the same. How long had it been since I had first been dragged into the Dandy cell? Two, three years? A hundred? Hell, I couldn’t even remember how old I was. Simple mathematics was beyond my capability at this point.
I wished I could see someone else. I saw the others being dragged down here too, but it was so dark. Patrick could be right in front of me, but I couldn’t know. Not a whimper or a breath could be heard, I couldn’t even hear my own. The only sound was a slow dripping, every four and a half seconds into a small puddle that had formed. I tried to tell myself it was just water, it was just a leaky pipe, but I couldn’t shake the awful image of ruby drops falling from death to meet their predecessors.
The chains attached to my wrists dug into the little flesh there was, I could imagine the deep imprint, but it was my whole body that felt restricted. I looked down, but of course saw nothing. My hip itched horribly from whatever material pushed into it… perhaps a kind of lace? Now that I had noticed it, this restriction was all I could feel. Skin-clad, whatever it was. I began to feel hot, even in this cold dungeon, and began to struggle a little. What had happened here? I wished I could remember, but Carden’s elbow to the back of my head had knocked me out cold after I had…
No. I didn’t want to think about that. That was all in the past now. He was in the past.
My breath hitched uncomfortably as I heard footsteps drawing closer, heavy and purposeful. The flames of a distant torch began to flicker and I winced, remembering a very similar situation occurring years before. Reminiscing on the agony of Beckett’s torturous methods (without the need to even raise a hand) had not left me keen for more. Ever. It was a slight mercy, however, when I realized that it was not Beckett descending the stone staircase. It was a Dandy I did not have a great deal of experience with, but I believed him to be Spencer. I was sure, however, that he was perfectly capable of causing substantial damage to me. As his flame drew nearer, I realized that there was no one else around me. I had indeed been all alone. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. After a few mumbled words he released me from my chains, his hand making a vice tight grip around my wrist even worse than that of the chains. My fight was gone. I was over it. I was completely disarmed, even my energy was taken from me. I felt just as pathetic as I had the last time I was here; a fragile girl without a change of surviving to 21 in this world. All my training, all my fighting over the last couple of years was useless. It was a pathetic way to improve my self-esteem, to make me feel stronger, to make me feel useful. But it was all pointless. Eventually, I just ended up exactly where I started. So instead of being stubborn and putting up a fight that would probably do nothing more than earn me a few extra bruises, I just remained silent and followed the Dandy obediently.
When we finally reached the top of a seeming never-ending staircase, he roughly shoved me into the arms of another Dandy. I looked up, only half willingly, to see a familiar face, stony gaze set forward and specifically not on me. The light from a ridiculously ostentatious chandelier above hurt my eyes, so I glanced down. I stifled a noise of disgust I could feel rising in my throat as I realized what restricted me so; a certain gift from the man who now held me captive, one I had long since ignored. Now knowing what it was, I could almost feel the laces of the corset tugging at my back harder, binding me in clothing. How metaphorical. Did Dandies find this sexy? Did this turn them on? Despicable.
As we began moving through a labyrinth of hallways, I waited for Brendon to say something. It was probably a little too hopeful to imagine him whispering an elaborate plan to set me free, but I yearned for even a comment on my attire from his cocky side. Of course, his lips remained sealed shut, and his fangs remained behind them. A small mercy, though, his grip was far gentler than Spencer’s. Almost comforting. But nothing could be comforting in this situation. Eventually, the minimum of words slipped as a murmur from his lips.
“I’m going to need you to put this on.”
I hardly got the chance to see the strip of black satin before he maneuvered it around my face, brushing me cheek lightly before it covered my eyes. He tied it tight and I couldn’t see a thing.
“That too uncomfortable?”
I shook my head. It was a lie, but I had more to worry about than whether or not my blindfold was too tight. He took my wrists again and guided me around a few more corners, before finally coming to a stop. I could feel the atmosphere change straight away. Whispers of Dandies echoed through what I presumed to be a large room, maybe a hall of some kind. God knows this mansion was large enough for it. I began to yearn for my lost sense. I wanted to see what was happening around me. Lack of energy, perhaps, but that didn’t poison all hint of common sense.
“Ah, Elle, you’ve decided to join us!”
Beckett’s voice boomed loud over the whispers. All our games over the last few years, all the taunting, all the attitude, this was the moment it was all leading up to. I could feel it pulsing through my veins, a sixth sense to replace the one that was temporarily lost.
“I don’t think ‘decided’ is the right word for it.”
Beckett was smirking at my words. I could feel it. His footsteps echoed through the now silence as he made his way towards me. All for dramatic effect of course, he could have been at my throat in a flash of an instant.
“Thank you, Brendon,” he announced after considerable dramatic pause before fastening his own grip on my arms and nodding Brendon away. I could feel a sort of reluctance on Brendon’s part, but his soul was Beckett’s now. There was nothing he could do for me, even if he wanted to.
I followed Beckett’s lead before he told me to stop moving, and pushed me hard against what felt like a pillar. He held me in place there as another Dandy tied my wrists tight together around the pillar with supernatural speed. After I struggled a bit and we were both certain that I could not break free, the other Dandy removed the material across my eyes and I blinked until my vision returned to focus. This new scene was not quite what I had expected. I expected something sinister, not much different to the dungeon, only with more room. Perhaps a pile of skulls in the corner. The kind of thing you’d expect of the headquarters of the most powerful undead. What I saw instead was a big marble hall, well lit with an enormous glass window overlooking a different perspective on the Chicago skyline. It was beautiful. A different kind of dramatics.
There were perhaps two dozen Dandies standing around, watching me with curiosity. Most seemed to be men, dressed to the nines in tails and top hats, but the few women scattered throughout the room were not easy to miss, their eerie beauty clad in elaborate gowns and lips set into perfect malicious scowls, all directed at me. I recognized Lena straight away, perched by Beckett’s side with a painted expression of disinterest. Just beyond that cold exterior, however, I could see she was fuming. And where Lena was, Emily remained close by with no effort to disguise her distaste. I tried my best to ignore them and focus solely on Beckett, the man I was sure would soon be raising a toast of my blood over my lifeless body.
“Carden!” Beckett called. “Bring in the other two.”
Carden tipped his hideous beige hat and disappeared behind the pillars across the room from me. I watched as Beckett taunted, sipping from an antique tea cup and placing it back onto the saucer that a female Dandy held out for him. Like this was some kind of high afternoon tea. This continued for a stretch of time before the sounds of a struggling prisoners reached the room. I’d expected Pete, watching him fuming beyond the gag tied around his mouth as Carden forced him into an uncomfortable looking chair facing Beckett from the right. What I didn’t expect was the person mirroring him on the left side of the room. Beckett watched me for a reaction, and I tried my very best not to give him the satisfaction.
If Pete looked worse for wear, it was nothing compared to my brother. Matt was covered in grime and scratches, the hatred in his eyes burning brighter than ever. I couldn’t even tell if he’d seen me yet. I tried not to watch him but I couldn’t just ignore the sudden ghost of my past life hovering in the corner of my eye. My body was numb, from head to toe. I’d half hoped my energy would have sparked once more at this point. But alas I felt more like a hall ornament than ever.
“You may all leave.” Beckett demanded into the silence.
Some of the Dandies took quick flight; others lingered for as long as they could until Beckett snarled. Lena’s hand lifted from his shoulder hesitantly, before finding it again.
“William…”
“I said go!”
His thundering voice chased the remainder from the room, even Lena who cast me one vicious glance before disappearing. Now all that remained were Beckett and his prisoners. Pete, Matt and me. Beckett chuckled maliciously.
“Now, let’s have some fun.”
I wished I could see someone else. I saw the others being dragged down here too, but it was so dark. Patrick could be right in front of me, but I couldn’t know. Not a whimper or a breath could be heard, I couldn’t even hear my own. The only sound was a slow dripping, every four and a half seconds into a small puddle that had formed. I tried to tell myself it was just water, it was just a leaky pipe, but I couldn’t shake the awful image of ruby drops falling from death to meet their predecessors.
The chains attached to my wrists dug into the little flesh there was, I could imagine the deep imprint, but it was my whole body that felt restricted. I looked down, but of course saw nothing. My hip itched horribly from whatever material pushed into it… perhaps a kind of lace? Now that I had noticed it, this restriction was all I could feel. Skin-clad, whatever it was. I began to feel hot, even in this cold dungeon, and began to struggle a little. What had happened here? I wished I could remember, but Carden’s elbow to the back of my head had knocked me out cold after I had…
No. I didn’t want to think about that. That was all in the past now. He was in the past.
My breath hitched uncomfortably as I heard footsteps drawing closer, heavy and purposeful. The flames of a distant torch began to flicker and I winced, remembering a very similar situation occurring years before. Reminiscing on the agony of Beckett’s torturous methods (without the need to even raise a hand) had not left me keen for more. Ever. It was a slight mercy, however, when I realized that it was not Beckett descending the stone staircase. It was a Dandy I did not have a great deal of experience with, but I believed him to be Spencer. I was sure, however, that he was perfectly capable of causing substantial damage to me. As his flame drew nearer, I realized that there was no one else around me. I had indeed been all alone. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. After a few mumbled words he released me from my chains, his hand making a vice tight grip around my wrist even worse than that of the chains. My fight was gone. I was over it. I was completely disarmed, even my energy was taken from me. I felt just as pathetic as I had the last time I was here; a fragile girl without a change of surviving to 21 in this world. All my training, all my fighting over the last couple of years was useless. It was a pathetic way to improve my self-esteem, to make me feel stronger, to make me feel useful. But it was all pointless. Eventually, I just ended up exactly where I started. So instead of being stubborn and putting up a fight that would probably do nothing more than earn me a few extra bruises, I just remained silent and followed the Dandy obediently.
When we finally reached the top of a seeming never-ending staircase, he roughly shoved me into the arms of another Dandy. I looked up, only half willingly, to see a familiar face, stony gaze set forward and specifically not on me. The light from a ridiculously ostentatious chandelier above hurt my eyes, so I glanced down. I stifled a noise of disgust I could feel rising in my throat as I realized what restricted me so; a certain gift from the man who now held me captive, one I had long since ignored. Now knowing what it was, I could almost feel the laces of the corset tugging at my back harder, binding me in clothing. How metaphorical. Did Dandies find this sexy? Did this turn them on? Despicable.
As we began moving through a labyrinth of hallways, I waited for Brendon to say something. It was probably a little too hopeful to imagine him whispering an elaborate plan to set me free, but I yearned for even a comment on my attire from his cocky side. Of course, his lips remained sealed shut, and his fangs remained behind them. A small mercy, though, his grip was far gentler than Spencer’s. Almost comforting. But nothing could be comforting in this situation. Eventually, the minimum of words slipped as a murmur from his lips.
“I’m going to need you to put this on.”
I hardly got the chance to see the strip of black satin before he maneuvered it around my face, brushing me cheek lightly before it covered my eyes. He tied it tight and I couldn’t see a thing.
“That too uncomfortable?”
I shook my head. It was a lie, but I had more to worry about than whether or not my blindfold was too tight. He took my wrists again and guided me around a few more corners, before finally coming to a stop. I could feel the atmosphere change straight away. Whispers of Dandies echoed through what I presumed to be a large room, maybe a hall of some kind. God knows this mansion was large enough for it. I began to yearn for my lost sense. I wanted to see what was happening around me. Lack of energy, perhaps, but that didn’t poison all hint of common sense.
“Ah, Elle, you’ve decided to join us!”
Beckett’s voice boomed loud over the whispers. All our games over the last few years, all the taunting, all the attitude, this was the moment it was all leading up to. I could feel it pulsing through my veins, a sixth sense to replace the one that was temporarily lost.
“I don’t think ‘decided’ is the right word for it.”
Beckett was smirking at my words. I could feel it. His footsteps echoed through the now silence as he made his way towards me. All for dramatic effect of course, he could have been at my throat in a flash of an instant.
“Thank you, Brendon,” he announced after considerable dramatic pause before fastening his own grip on my arms and nodding Brendon away. I could feel a sort of reluctance on Brendon’s part, but his soul was Beckett’s now. There was nothing he could do for me, even if he wanted to.
I followed Beckett’s lead before he told me to stop moving, and pushed me hard against what felt like a pillar. He held me in place there as another Dandy tied my wrists tight together around the pillar with supernatural speed. After I struggled a bit and we were both certain that I could not break free, the other Dandy removed the material across my eyes and I blinked until my vision returned to focus. This new scene was not quite what I had expected. I expected something sinister, not much different to the dungeon, only with more room. Perhaps a pile of skulls in the corner. The kind of thing you’d expect of the headquarters of the most powerful undead. What I saw instead was a big marble hall, well lit with an enormous glass window overlooking a different perspective on the Chicago skyline. It was beautiful. A different kind of dramatics.
There were perhaps two dozen Dandies standing around, watching me with curiosity. Most seemed to be men, dressed to the nines in tails and top hats, but the few women scattered throughout the room were not easy to miss, their eerie beauty clad in elaborate gowns and lips set into perfect malicious scowls, all directed at me. I recognized Lena straight away, perched by Beckett’s side with a painted expression of disinterest. Just beyond that cold exterior, however, I could see she was fuming. And where Lena was, Emily remained close by with no effort to disguise her distaste. I tried my best to ignore them and focus solely on Beckett, the man I was sure would soon be raising a toast of my blood over my lifeless body.
“Carden!” Beckett called. “Bring in the other two.”
Carden tipped his hideous beige hat and disappeared behind the pillars across the room from me. I watched as Beckett taunted, sipping from an antique tea cup and placing it back onto the saucer that a female Dandy held out for him. Like this was some kind of high afternoon tea. This continued for a stretch of time before the sounds of a struggling prisoners reached the room. I’d expected Pete, watching him fuming beyond the gag tied around his mouth as Carden forced him into an uncomfortable looking chair facing Beckett from the right. What I didn’t expect was the person mirroring him on the left side of the room. Beckett watched me for a reaction, and I tried my very best not to give him the satisfaction.
If Pete looked worse for wear, it was nothing compared to my brother. Matt was covered in grime and scratches, the hatred in his eyes burning brighter than ever. I couldn’t even tell if he’d seen me yet. I tried not to watch him but I couldn’t just ignore the sudden ghost of my past life hovering in the corner of my eye. My body was numb, from head to toe. I’d half hoped my energy would have sparked once more at this point. But alas I felt more like a hall ornament than ever.
“You may all leave.” Beckett demanded into the silence.
Some of the Dandies took quick flight; others lingered for as long as they could until Beckett snarled. Lena’s hand lifted from his shoulder hesitantly, before finding it again.
“William…”
“I said go!”
His thundering voice chased the remainder from the room, even Lena who cast me one vicious glance before disappearing. Now all that remained were Beckett and his prisoners. Pete, Matt and me. Beckett chuckled maliciously.
“Now, let’s have some fun.”