Series:TPTB-Ch.15, Triggered (Marcus/River)
Title: Triggered (15/?)
Series: The Powers That Be
Author: Romanceguru
Disclaimer: Joss is the boss of me.
Rating: R for heaps of immorality.
Fandom: Firefly/Angel Crossover
Characters/Pairing: Marcus/River, Simon, & OC.
Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing.
Timeline: Continued from immediately from “ No Rest for The Wicked.”
A/N: This, by far, was the hardest chapter to write! There were many edits.
Betaed thankfully by the dark and mysterious elsibet34.
Catch up here.
Marcus moved towards the siblings with wicked grace, each step purposely calculating as he presented River her gift. Inside though, he was struggling to suppress the curl of his lip as he watched the display of sentiment before him, how the girl clung to her brother, seemingly out of love rather than fear.
Glancing briefly at Simon, jealousy unwittingly crawled into every nerve ending, making it difficult for him to remain impassive, to play this game in his normal manner.
He had anticipated all of it; the shock, heartache and predictable dedication. Only, for the first time in his existence, he didn’t particularly enjoy being on the outside and looking in, feeling a reluctant stranger to humanity.
It was true that River had been his, but never in the way he witnessed now. That fact churned the darkness in his heart, causing a sharp loathing to replace his practiced indifference. A dark, gray electricity gleamed in his eyes as he looked on.
River gripped her brother‘s hand fiercely. There were no words, only emotions tangled and choked about in her throat as Marcus’ merciless blue eyes entrapped hers. She was stuck there, frozen by circumstance.
“I don’t understand.” River finally muttered, her eyes and mind searching his. “There has to be a why.”
“You’re wasting your time trying to find reason, River.” Marcus reasoned coolly.“I’ve told you before. We do, because we can.” With a small smile and flick of the wrist, he gestured to the minions at the ready, hoping to build on the high and take back the control he never should have relinquished.
All at once, the ground beneath River’s knees began to shake violently, her large brown eyes widening as she felt Simon’s hand slip from hers. She ripped herself from Marcus’ self-satisfied expression, her breath hitching painfully in her chest as she turned to grab feebly for the contact that was no longer there.
A frenzied excitement surged from the creatures in the courtyard below as the giant slab to which Simon was strapped began to lift steadily upward. The grinding sound was almost as deafening as the blood-thirsty cries that filled the tepid evening.
Falling forward onto her hands, River watched in a stupor as her brother’s body was raised upright, a spectacle for all to see. It was then the full reality of her powerlessness sank in, the heavy truth weighing her inexorably to the ground. It was all too much to process; seeing Simon for the first time in four years, and then seeing him in this way, helpless and about to die.
“No! Please. You can’t…” River dropped her chin and eyes to the ground, pleading weakly to herself, to the one who wanted her to beg. It was their old game, her despair for his enjoyment.
Closing her eyes, she tried to reason Marcus’ cruelty against the intimacy they had briefly shared, the power of which still rang true in her bones. Her body trembled in its memory, flesh feeding on fire. But it was a lie and this was its truth. The air already stank of death.
“River.” Simon pleaded, trying to get his sister to refocus her attention. She seemed trapped somewhere, lost. “River, we haven’t much time.” He explained patiently, his beautiful eyes rapt and alert as he tried his best to be brave for her.
“I know,” River whispered perceptively as she faded back into the moment. Picking herself up from her knees, she rearranged the cumbersome material of her white cotton dress and stepped closer. There was so much she wanted to say, but no words held enough meaning.
Looking down from his perch, Simon held his sister’s sad eyes for a moment, noticing that they were more grave, more tortured, than he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t bear to add to it, to be the cause of any further suffering.
Coming to a decision, he looked past his sister, eyeing Marcus cautiously, this man-thing who had been keeping his sister captive for months, and knew that he’d overhear them at this distance. Raising his chin defiantly, Simon acknowledged the well-dressed creature, hoping to play on his ironic sense of decorum.
“If you’re going to do this, if you’re going to murder me,” he challenged, “will you at least permit us to say goodbye?”
At her brother’s request, River dared a look over her shoulder at Marcus, studying the familiar lines of his cruel face to gauge his reaction. Even now he was a fortress, impenetrable and chillingly resolved.
Her own expression gave nothing away, but inside, she was trembling, gutted by trepidation. At long last, she was coming to see the creature behind the mask, fear him properly as she should have all along.
Narrowing his eyes, Marcus appraised the doctor resentfully, sensing his obvious desperation. A nervous sheen of sweat covered the man’s pale face and he couldn’t help but feel a giddy excitement for what was to come.
Lowering his gaze to River‘s, he met her piercing eyes, noticing the change in them. Good, he thought with some satisfaction, she was starting to see things as they meant to be.
Directing his attention back to the doctor, he gave his answer. “Very well, but do make it quick.” He permitted dryly, gesturing calmly to the crowd around them. “These fine creatures came to see bloodshed, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
Smirking, he turned away and walked down several steps to where Culverton stood, but when he reached the man, his insolent smile had faded. It took everything he had not to look back over his shoulder, to remain indifferent.
River shivered as she watched Marcus retreat, the back of his suit signaling the mounting regret she now felt. What would Simon think if he knew she had loved a monster?
Looking steeply up at her brother, her surroundings merged into a chaotic blur, the perverse waves of anticipation blending into the background as she shut them out and focused on only him.
Hanging like Christ sacrificed, his face remained a good three feet above hers, a quiet, intimate goodbye just out of reach. Beyond that, the pitch black night hung ominously overhead, seeming to have swallowed all its stars.
Noting that Marcus was aptly engaged in conversation with a short, ruddy blonde man, Simon seized opportunity and beckoned to his sister with a hint of urgency. “River. Do you see that…”
Before Simon could finish instructing her, River was already dragging a large, empty wooden champagne box to the base of the slab. Climbing atop, she stood almost equal to his height, her long dress and hair catching in the warm wind.
Simon smiled compassionately down at his sister. Despite everything, after searching for so long, his heart soured to see her alive before him; even more beautiful than he remembered.
Tears welled up in River’s eyes, her small body trembling unconsciously as she fidgeted her hands along his shoulders, neck, anywhere, just to touch him, commit this moment to memory. Every second with her brother was not enough, because any one of them could be their last.
“I should have never…I’m not what they say.” She confessed blindly, her frantic eyes finding his, needing to explain the whole confusing truth. “Showed me off like a dog, but I won’t do it.” Her voice was unsteady, but her eyes were resolute. “It’s all my fault. Should be me up there.” She decided bravely. “I can convince him.”
“No.” Simon refuted instantly. “Don’t ever think that. Not ever.” He admonished, though his tone was gentle. “We’ll get through this, Mei mei, I promise.”
Pulling instinctively at his cuffs, Simon longed to wipe away his sister’s tears, to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, but his wrists remained securely fastened and all he could do was gently shush away her fears.
“Come here.” He coaxed tenderly, and River leaned in close, laying her head compliantly against his chest where she began to pluck numbly at the buttons on his dress shirt.
“It’ll be okay.” He repeated soothingly, resting his chin on the top of her hair. She smelled like home and something else, something not her.
“It won’t.” River argued at his reassurance, shaking her head adamantly. “Things are going to get much, much worse.” She relayed, choking back tears. All she could see was red. It saturated the white cotton under her fingertips and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Wrapping her slender arms around Simon’s torso, she closed her eyes to shut it out, pressing her face against his shirt. “You’ll die. They’ll all die.” She whispered fervidly.
Simon tensed at her words, but it was all he needed to confirm everything he had discovered about her. Kissing the top of her head, he forced an encouraging smile. “My sister, always the pessimist.” He teased lightly. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread knotting in his stomach at her forewarning.
Glancing up, Simon noticed that Marcus was eyeing them edgily. Their time was up.
Resolute, he lowered his mouth to River’s ear and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent one last time and suppressing the guilt for what he was about to do.
“I’m so sorry, River.” He apologized, and before she could respond, he muttered a single phrase, a long string of words foreign to his tongue, and hoped beyond hope that everything he loved about his sister wouldn’t be lost.
The crying ceased instantly and River’s eyes shot open, awakened to the gray slab of cement before her. Without another thought, she released her brother and spun around, calculating the degrees of threat in the hundreds before her in matter of seconds.
The minions huddled around the torture devices to the right were the first to go as River sprang from the empty crate, kicking it up and sending it full speed in their direction, shards of wood impaling all three at once. A hush fell over the island upon the impact, heads and ominous eyes turning just in time to watch the bodies waver and fall weightily to the ground.
Culverton nudged Marcus as they both looked on in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise. “Ah, there’s our girl!” He exclaimed almost reminiscently, a large grin capturing his face. “Second best keep secret in the ‘verse…until now, that is.”
Marcus growled low, irritated by this unexpected disruption in his plans. He had wanted the girl to feel everything when they had begun to gut her brother alive. One glance at the doctor told him that this was his doing, a final pathetic attempt to best the inevitable.
“Word’s going to get around after this.” Culverton observed in an amused tone. “Hope you’re insured, Marky. The girl is going to make a mess.”
While he straightened his tie, Marcus’ expression was grim. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He assured his former assistant as he started intently back up the steps to defuse the situation.
At the slab, River sprung forward on her hands, flipping her body effortlessly three times, and bridged the distance between herself and the carefully laid out weapons. Their sharp points and polished handles gleamed menacingly in their containers as she surveyed the twisted assortment. She couldn’t help but feel they had purpose.
Reaching down, she grabbed the fabric of her over-long dress and tore it, creating a jagged hem around the knees to free her limbs from obstruction. The targets were many, and without turning, she could feel them rushing from below. The first infliction of violence had triggered their carnal desire; she was their natural enemy.
The noise became deafening as the group closed in, the quickest of them leading the pack.
Snatching up first a long-sword and a then single chained mace, River the Weapon gripped them fiercely, her senses now operating at full capacity; sight, smell, and sound all worked in harmony with intuition. There was no grey to cloud her mind. No impediment to cause hesitation.
Readying her weapons, she heaved the mace up into the air, and with a quick spin, turned to face the onslaught. The spiked globe whirled around and around, gathering a fatal momentum, but the creatures did not hesitate. Bowling the ball into the first line, she managed to take out 5 at once, bodies flying back and tripping up those behind.
A nasty looking troll lumbered over the bodies, inadvertently finishing off the dying creatures as his gigantic feet crunched their bones like dry leaves. Catching the mace in midair, he ripped the weapon from River’s grasp causing her to stumble backwards into the waiting arms of a vampire.
Unfurling its fangs, the thing pulled River up under the arms, grinning as he leaned in for the kill. The apish troll swung at River with his axe, death coming at her from all angles. Ducking the blade, she felt teeth graze her skin and a whoosh as the weapon met with the vampire’s neck, freeing her of his embrace.
Rolling under the Troll’s legs, River reemerged on the other side, using her sword effectively on two Haklar demons. The Troll stupidly followed the girl’s motion, bending over to peer between its large, chunky legs. It only took one kick to knock him off balance and onto his back. It took more than that to finish him off.
Not taking his eyes off River, Marcus moved briskly through the swarming beasts, reaching out and easily breaking the necks of those he passed. A giant troll fell to his end in the distance, and Marcus smiled despite himself. Even though he knew this day would eventually come, he found himself spellbound by the girl’s knack for destruction.
Eager to reach her, the current crowd control situation was quickly trying his patience. Next time, he was going to remind Culverton not to go so wild with the invites. A quiet, intimate sacrifice among close friends would be sufficient enough.
Snatching a lizard demon up by the neck as it leapt in midair, Marcus looked at the snarling thing curiously. “Going somewhere?” He questioned rhetorically as he squeezed his fist closed.
Simon’s heart leaped into his throat as he witnessed the carnage that unraveled before him. Despite reading all of the files, nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing his sister so changed. This girl was a vehicle of death that moved with his sister’s grace. Swallowing hard, he felt his heart sink. This was what they had made her, and he had unleashed it upon the universe.
They were coming in fast now, River picking up her pace and handling the sword as if it were merely an extension of her natural form. Another creature leapt upon her, blade meeting bone as she separated its head clean from its body in mid-air.
Momentum was not wasted as she continued to hack and sever vital limbs as if they were made of butter. When one dropped, others rushed in; they came one, two, three at a time to meet the same fate.
The crowed thinned dramatically as Marcus and River fought their way towards one another, every movement precisely timed and un-wasted, a dance beating a crescendo to climax.
Sweeping down, River picked up a broken piece of crate and lodged it deep into a vamp’s heart, turning her into a cloud of evaporating dust. River came to a stand-sill, waiting a second for the air to clear, and when it did, he was there on the other side.
Tossing a limp carcass to the ground, Marcus appraised River up and down as she readjusted her grip on her weapon, unleashing her wide, dark eyes upon him. Blood dripped freely from the blade, from her hair, and none of it was her own.
“Congratulations on your newfound sense of self.” Marcus praised, his eyes sparkling approvingly as he gestured to the mass of bodies lumped at their feet. “I knew you had it in you.” Grinning lecherously, he couldn’t help himself as he added, “You look lovely by the way.”
River stared blankly in response, tilting her head mechanically. She noted that there were no visible weapons, but the creature had managed to kill twice her number. Scouring her brain, there was no input, no stratagem for this one, whatever he was. For the first time since being triggered, River hesitated.
Marcus looked increasingly amused. “Don’t stop on account of me. We were just getting to the fun part, and we both know this isn’t your first time.” He finished suggestively.
Something deep within River snapped at the comment, memories and feelings that were not locked properly in place, and she acted upon her better judgment. Wielding her sword at Marcus, she slashed downwards across his chest.
Taking a simple step back, Marcus avoided the blade and caught River’s wrists, disarming her in a matter of seconds. He snapped the weapon in half so it clamored loudly as it hit the ground. “Is that all you’ve got?” Marcus challenged, looking down to find that his tie had a tiny gash in it. Well, he’d have to give her two points for effort.
Looking up, Marcus’ mischievous smirk retuned. “I’ve seen you feistier.” He taunted.
Blind anger replaced control as River swung her leg around, only for it to be batted it away as it if she were nothing more than a fly. After several more attempts, Marcus countered, punching her squarely in the chest and sending her to the ground like a broken doll.
Hovering above, Marcus smirked down at a crumpled River. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked with feigned politeness. “You’ll have to excuse me. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
Sucking a painful breath, River sat up and twisted her head to look in her opponent’s eyes. There was something familiar about them, the way they seemed to change from gray to blue at will.
“River!” Simon called in dismay as he watched Marcus strike his sister to the ground, his heart kick-starting only when she had sat back up again.
Even from a distance, he could see the stoic determination on her face and he couldn’t let this continue. “You don’t have to fight him.” He instructed in a panic, struggling futilely against his bindings. “It’s okay to run away.”
Marcus chuckled as River’s dark eyes remained fixed on his. She hadn’t even flinched when her brother had called out to her. “You’re wasting your last breath, doctor.” He acknowledged blithely, observing the empty rage in the girl’s eyes as he cocked his head curiously. “Poor thing doesn’t even know who you are. Neither of us, for that matter.” He amended.
“Just don’t, don’t touch her.” Simon warned desperately, hating that there was nothing he could do. That he couldn’t even try.
“A little too late for that.” Marcus shrugged casually. Turning towards Simon, there was a malicious gleam in his eyes. “Did she tell you that we were lovers?” He asked offhandedly.
Simon’s face hardened instantly, his eyes turning murderous. “She would never. I don‘t believe it.” He argued strongly, but the words tasted like denial. He had seen enough horribleness in one night to know that anything was possible.
Marcus just hummed knowingly as he stepped over a severed arm, a foot, methodically making his way over to the boy. “I’m sure she would have told you eventually.” He comforted mockingly. “If it hadn’t been for your impending death.”
Behind him, River climbed in the opposite direction, making her journey over heaps of slick bodies to the weapons cache. Sliding her hand over the instruments, she felt what she was looking for. Grasping a pair of sais, a dark ire pushed her to her feet, her mind focused intensely on only one objective.
Simon’s lip curled up in disgust as the horrific image of his sister and that thing together, intimate, seared irreversibly in his brain. “She’s just a child.” He accused vehemently.
“Seventeen today.” Marcus acknowledged indifferently, he almost seemed bored as he closed the distance between them. “Grew up while you fumbled uselessly around the universe. No doubt motivated by the false hope that you could somehow be her hero.”
“Ta ma de hun dan!” Simon spat under his breath, his face beet-red.
Stopping before the doctor, Marcus’ lips found his trademark smirk, feeding off the anger he‘d provoked. “And as you were busy failing her so miserably,” he went on, “I simply provided her what you could not.” Pausing for a moment, he played casually with the end of his crisp sleeve. “Come to think of it.” He amended, “You should be thanking me.”
“Never.” Simon spat, a rage he had never before felt pumping like venom through his veins.
“Very well, then.” Marcus resigned unconcernedly. Jerking his arm back, a short blade emerged from under his sleeve, catching the light, and Simon’s widened eyes before it was impaled cleanly through his torso.
Everything went white as an impossible pain tore through Simon’s gut, and for an instant he thought he was gone, floating somewhere where it no longer hurt. Then the world came spiraling back in all its unwanted intensity. Blood rushed up into his throat where he choked on it, coughing it violently from his lips.
In a haze, in a world that resembled a dream, Simon saw River emerge from behind Marcus. His head and eyes were heavy, lolling shut without his permission, but he heard a scuffle, the same sickening separation of flesh and bone, only this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t his own.
After another minute of rustling, there was a pressing against his stomach, the sound of chains snapping like string before he was pulled from the platform to the ground.
The world swam before Simon’s eyes as he tried to focus. Minutes passed as he faded in and out. There was a softness surrounding him, a cool hand on his brow and something falling against his cheeks. The droplets felt both warm and cool, like a summer’s rain.
Slowly, everything came into focus as he fought the pull towards the unknown. River was staring down at him, pain and love furrowing her brow as tears painted paths down her dirty, handsome face.
Hope trumped pain as Simon recognized the sadness in his sister’s expression. Coughing on more blood, his surprise was stifled. “You know who I am.” He choked in relief.
River gave him a ridiculous look, her eyebrows raised slightly as she cradled her brother’s head in her lap. “You’re Simon.” She stated plainly, then her expression changed, this time it was hopeful.
“Don’t talk.” She commanded, soothing her free hand across his forehead. “I can feel them coming.”
Lifting his left arm, he felt for the tiny hand pressed urgently against his wound, and squeezed it weakly. “I-I’m so sorry, River. He was right. I couldn’t save you.”
River shook her head fervently. “No, you did! You saved me, Simon.” She vowed, smiling through tears. “I see things clearly now.”
Simon smiled peacefully as he rolled his head back and looked straight up into the night sky. “It’s bright. Brighter than you’d think it’d be.” He confessed dreamily.
“No! Don’t look there.” Panic seized River as she shook her brother gently. “Come back. It won’t be long now. Then we can be together.” She promised, pulling him closer, refusing to let them have him.
Words emptied mindlessly from her lips, she had to keep talking, keep him here. Just a little while longer. “You can tell me stories and I‘ll listen. Promise not to interrupt. I don’t do that anymore.” She vowed, rocking them slightly.
“We can go anywhere. Home if you’d like. And I‘ll be good, Simon, I swear. Just please…please don‘t leave me here alone.” She was sobbing uncontrollably now, an unconscious desperation taking hold.
Leaning down, River pressed her cheek against Simon’s, his skin cool where everything inside her burned. She remained there, listening to his breath grow more shallow and the night grow steadily silent.
Laying a few feet away on the hard ground, Marcus had heard every word. He had regained consciousness almost immediately after the girl had stabbed him, but instead of yanking the sai from his neck and getting to his feet, he simply lie there listening to River offer her brother a future, one with love and hope and everything else humankind desperately clamored for in their darkest hour.
As he listened to River quietly weep, as the number of living eventually faded to from three to two, he wondered why he still hadn’t moved.
But most of all, he wondered why he, Marcus Hamilton, the one who had carefully orchestrated everything to cumulate in this very moment, couldn’t find one ounce of satisfaction in its sounds.
---
TBC
Next CH: Revelations
Series: The Powers That Be
Author: Romanceguru
Disclaimer: Joss is the boss of me.
Rating: R for heaps of immorality.
Fandom: Firefly/Angel Crossover
Characters/Pairing: Marcus/River, Simon, & OC.
Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing.
Timeline: Continued from immediately from “ No Rest for The Wicked.”
A/N: This, by far, was the hardest chapter to write! There were many edits.
Betaed thankfully by the dark and mysterious elsibet34.
Catch up here.
Marcus moved towards the siblings with wicked grace, each step purposely calculating as he presented River her gift. Inside though, he was struggling to suppress the curl of his lip as he watched the display of sentiment before him, how the girl clung to her brother, seemingly out of love rather than fear.
Glancing briefly at Simon, jealousy unwittingly crawled into every nerve ending, making it difficult for him to remain impassive, to play this game in his normal manner.
He had anticipated all of it; the shock, heartache and predictable dedication. Only, for the first time in his existence, he didn’t particularly enjoy being on the outside and looking in, feeling a reluctant stranger to humanity.
It was true that River had been his, but never in the way he witnessed now. That fact churned the darkness in his heart, causing a sharp loathing to replace his practiced indifference. A dark, gray electricity gleamed in his eyes as he looked on.
River gripped her brother‘s hand fiercely. There were no words, only emotions tangled and choked about in her throat as Marcus’ merciless blue eyes entrapped hers. She was stuck there, frozen by circumstance.
“I don’t understand.” River finally muttered, her eyes and mind searching his. “There has to be a why.”
“You’re wasting your time trying to find reason, River.” Marcus reasoned coolly.“I’ve told you before. We do, because we can.” With a small smile and flick of the wrist, he gestured to the minions at the ready, hoping to build on the high and take back the control he never should have relinquished.
All at once, the ground beneath River’s knees began to shake violently, her large brown eyes widening as she felt Simon’s hand slip from hers. She ripped herself from Marcus’ self-satisfied expression, her breath hitching painfully in her chest as she turned to grab feebly for the contact that was no longer there.
A frenzied excitement surged from the creatures in the courtyard below as the giant slab to which Simon was strapped began to lift steadily upward. The grinding sound was almost as deafening as the blood-thirsty cries that filled the tepid evening.
Falling forward onto her hands, River watched in a stupor as her brother’s body was raised upright, a spectacle for all to see. It was then the full reality of her powerlessness sank in, the heavy truth weighing her inexorably to the ground. It was all too much to process; seeing Simon for the first time in four years, and then seeing him in this way, helpless and about to die.
“No! Please. You can’t…” River dropped her chin and eyes to the ground, pleading weakly to herself, to the one who wanted her to beg. It was their old game, her despair for his enjoyment.
Closing her eyes, she tried to reason Marcus’ cruelty against the intimacy they had briefly shared, the power of which still rang true in her bones. Her body trembled in its memory, flesh feeding on fire. But it was a lie and this was its truth. The air already stank of death.
“River.” Simon pleaded, trying to get his sister to refocus her attention. She seemed trapped somewhere, lost. “River, we haven’t much time.” He explained patiently, his beautiful eyes rapt and alert as he tried his best to be brave for her.
“I know,” River whispered perceptively as she faded back into the moment. Picking herself up from her knees, she rearranged the cumbersome material of her white cotton dress and stepped closer. There was so much she wanted to say, but no words held enough meaning.
Looking down from his perch, Simon held his sister’s sad eyes for a moment, noticing that they were more grave, more tortured, than he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t bear to add to it, to be the cause of any further suffering.
Coming to a decision, he looked past his sister, eyeing Marcus cautiously, this man-thing who had been keeping his sister captive for months, and knew that he’d overhear them at this distance. Raising his chin defiantly, Simon acknowledged the well-dressed creature, hoping to play on his ironic sense of decorum.
“If you’re going to do this, if you’re going to murder me,” he challenged, “will you at least permit us to say goodbye?”
At her brother’s request, River dared a look over her shoulder at Marcus, studying the familiar lines of his cruel face to gauge his reaction. Even now he was a fortress, impenetrable and chillingly resolved.
Her own expression gave nothing away, but inside, she was trembling, gutted by trepidation. At long last, she was coming to see the creature behind the mask, fear him properly as she should have all along.
Narrowing his eyes, Marcus appraised the doctor resentfully, sensing his obvious desperation. A nervous sheen of sweat covered the man’s pale face and he couldn’t help but feel a giddy excitement for what was to come.
Lowering his gaze to River‘s, he met her piercing eyes, noticing the change in them. Good, he thought with some satisfaction, she was starting to see things as they meant to be.
Directing his attention back to the doctor, he gave his answer. “Very well, but do make it quick.” He permitted dryly, gesturing calmly to the crowd around them. “These fine creatures came to see bloodshed, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
Smirking, he turned away and walked down several steps to where Culverton stood, but when he reached the man, his insolent smile had faded. It took everything he had not to look back over his shoulder, to remain indifferent.
River shivered as she watched Marcus retreat, the back of his suit signaling the mounting regret she now felt. What would Simon think if he knew she had loved a monster?
Looking steeply up at her brother, her surroundings merged into a chaotic blur, the perverse waves of anticipation blending into the background as she shut them out and focused on only him.
Hanging like Christ sacrificed, his face remained a good three feet above hers, a quiet, intimate goodbye just out of reach. Beyond that, the pitch black night hung ominously overhead, seeming to have swallowed all its stars.
Noting that Marcus was aptly engaged in conversation with a short, ruddy blonde man, Simon seized opportunity and beckoned to his sister with a hint of urgency. “River. Do you see that…”
Before Simon could finish instructing her, River was already dragging a large, empty wooden champagne box to the base of the slab. Climbing atop, she stood almost equal to his height, her long dress and hair catching in the warm wind.
Simon smiled compassionately down at his sister. Despite everything, after searching for so long, his heart soured to see her alive before him; even more beautiful than he remembered.
Tears welled up in River’s eyes, her small body trembling unconsciously as she fidgeted her hands along his shoulders, neck, anywhere, just to touch him, commit this moment to memory. Every second with her brother was not enough, because any one of them could be their last.
“I should have never…I’m not what they say.” She confessed blindly, her frantic eyes finding his, needing to explain the whole confusing truth. “Showed me off like a dog, but I won’t do it.” Her voice was unsteady, but her eyes were resolute. “It’s all my fault. Should be me up there.” She decided bravely. “I can convince him.”
“No.” Simon refuted instantly. “Don’t ever think that. Not ever.” He admonished, though his tone was gentle. “We’ll get through this, Mei mei, I promise.”
Pulling instinctively at his cuffs, Simon longed to wipe away his sister’s tears, to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, but his wrists remained securely fastened and all he could do was gently shush away her fears.
“Come here.” He coaxed tenderly, and River leaned in close, laying her head compliantly against his chest where she began to pluck numbly at the buttons on his dress shirt.
“It’ll be okay.” He repeated soothingly, resting his chin on the top of her hair. She smelled like home and something else, something not her.
“It won’t.” River argued at his reassurance, shaking her head adamantly. “Things are going to get much, much worse.” She relayed, choking back tears. All she could see was red. It saturated the white cotton under her fingertips and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Wrapping her slender arms around Simon’s torso, she closed her eyes to shut it out, pressing her face against his shirt. “You’ll die. They’ll all die.” She whispered fervidly.
Simon tensed at her words, but it was all he needed to confirm everything he had discovered about her. Kissing the top of her head, he forced an encouraging smile. “My sister, always the pessimist.” He teased lightly. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread knotting in his stomach at her forewarning.
Glancing up, Simon noticed that Marcus was eyeing them edgily. Their time was up.
Resolute, he lowered his mouth to River’s ear and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent one last time and suppressing the guilt for what he was about to do.
“I’m so sorry, River.” He apologized, and before she could respond, he muttered a single phrase, a long string of words foreign to his tongue, and hoped beyond hope that everything he loved about his sister wouldn’t be lost.
The crying ceased instantly and River’s eyes shot open, awakened to the gray slab of cement before her. Without another thought, she released her brother and spun around, calculating the degrees of threat in the hundreds before her in matter of seconds.
The minions huddled around the torture devices to the right were the first to go as River sprang from the empty crate, kicking it up and sending it full speed in their direction, shards of wood impaling all three at once. A hush fell over the island upon the impact, heads and ominous eyes turning just in time to watch the bodies waver and fall weightily to the ground.
Culverton nudged Marcus as they both looked on in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise. “Ah, there’s our girl!” He exclaimed almost reminiscently, a large grin capturing his face. “Second best keep secret in the ‘verse…until now, that is.”
Marcus growled low, irritated by this unexpected disruption in his plans. He had wanted the girl to feel everything when they had begun to gut her brother alive. One glance at the doctor told him that this was his doing, a final pathetic attempt to best the inevitable.
“Word’s going to get around after this.” Culverton observed in an amused tone. “Hope you’re insured, Marky. The girl is going to make a mess.”
While he straightened his tie, Marcus’ expression was grim. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He assured his former assistant as he started intently back up the steps to defuse the situation.
At the slab, River sprung forward on her hands, flipping her body effortlessly three times, and bridged the distance between herself and the carefully laid out weapons. Their sharp points and polished handles gleamed menacingly in their containers as she surveyed the twisted assortment. She couldn’t help but feel they had purpose.
Reaching down, she grabbed the fabric of her over-long dress and tore it, creating a jagged hem around the knees to free her limbs from obstruction. The targets were many, and without turning, she could feel them rushing from below. The first infliction of violence had triggered their carnal desire; she was their natural enemy.
The noise became deafening as the group closed in, the quickest of them leading the pack.
Snatching up first a long-sword and a then single chained mace, River the Weapon gripped them fiercely, her senses now operating at full capacity; sight, smell, and sound all worked in harmony with intuition. There was no grey to cloud her mind. No impediment to cause hesitation.
Readying her weapons, she heaved the mace up into the air, and with a quick spin, turned to face the onslaught. The spiked globe whirled around and around, gathering a fatal momentum, but the creatures did not hesitate. Bowling the ball into the first line, she managed to take out 5 at once, bodies flying back and tripping up those behind.
A nasty looking troll lumbered over the bodies, inadvertently finishing off the dying creatures as his gigantic feet crunched their bones like dry leaves. Catching the mace in midair, he ripped the weapon from River’s grasp causing her to stumble backwards into the waiting arms of a vampire.
Unfurling its fangs, the thing pulled River up under the arms, grinning as he leaned in for the kill. The apish troll swung at River with his axe, death coming at her from all angles. Ducking the blade, she felt teeth graze her skin and a whoosh as the weapon met with the vampire’s neck, freeing her of his embrace.
Rolling under the Troll’s legs, River reemerged on the other side, using her sword effectively on two Haklar demons. The Troll stupidly followed the girl’s motion, bending over to peer between its large, chunky legs. It only took one kick to knock him off balance and onto his back. It took more than that to finish him off.
Not taking his eyes off River, Marcus moved briskly through the swarming beasts, reaching out and easily breaking the necks of those he passed. A giant troll fell to his end in the distance, and Marcus smiled despite himself. Even though he knew this day would eventually come, he found himself spellbound by the girl’s knack for destruction.
Eager to reach her, the current crowd control situation was quickly trying his patience. Next time, he was going to remind Culverton not to go so wild with the invites. A quiet, intimate sacrifice among close friends would be sufficient enough.
Snatching a lizard demon up by the neck as it leapt in midair, Marcus looked at the snarling thing curiously. “Going somewhere?” He questioned rhetorically as he squeezed his fist closed.
Simon’s heart leaped into his throat as he witnessed the carnage that unraveled before him. Despite reading all of the files, nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing his sister so changed. This girl was a vehicle of death that moved with his sister’s grace. Swallowing hard, he felt his heart sink. This was what they had made her, and he had unleashed it upon the universe.
They were coming in fast now, River picking up her pace and handling the sword as if it were merely an extension of her natural form. Another creature leapt upon her, blade meeting bone as she separated its head clean from its body in mid-air.
Momentum was not wasted as she continued to hack and sever vital limbs as if they were made of butter. When one dropped, others rushed in; they came one, two, three at a time to meet the same fate.
The crowed thinned dramatically as Marcus and River fought their way towards one another, every movement precisely timed and un-wasted, a dance beating a crescendo to climax.
Sweeping down, River picked up a broken piece of crate and lodged it deep into a vamp’s heart, turning her into a cloud of evaporating dust. River came to a stand-sill, waiting a second for the air to clear, and when it did, he was there on the other side.
Tossing a limp carcass to the ground, Marcus appraised River up and down as she readjusted her grip on her weapon, unleashing her wide, dark eyes upon him. Blood dripped freely from the blade, from her hair, and none of it was her own.
“Congratulations on your newfound sense of self.” Marcus praised, his eyes sparkling approvingly as he gestured to the mass of bodies lumped at their feet. “I knew you had it in you.” Grinning lecherously, he couldn’t help himself as he added, “You look lovely by the way.”
River stared blankly in response, tilting her head mechanically. She noted that there were no visible weapons, but the creature had managed to kill twice her number. Scouring her brain, there was no input, no stratagem for this one, whatever he was. For the first time since being triggered, River hesitated.
Marcus looked increasingly amused. “Don’t stop on account of me. We were just getting to the fun part, and we both know this isn’t your first time.” He finished suggestively.
Something deep within River snapped at the comment, memories and feelings that were not locked properly in place, and she acted upon her better judgment. Wielding her sword at Marcus, she slashed downwards across his chest.
Taking a simple step back, Marcus avoided the blade and caught River’s wrists, disarming her in a matter of seconds. He snapped the weapon in half so it clamored loudly as it hit the ground. “Is that all you’ve got?” Marcus challenged, looking down to find that his tie had a tiny gash in it. Well, he’d have to give her two points for effort.
Looking up, Marcus’ mischievous smirk retuned. “I’ve seen you feistier.” He taunted.
Blind anger replaced control as River swung her leg around, only for it to be batted it away as it if she were nothing more than a fly. After several more attempts, Marcus countered, punching her squarely in the chest and sending her to the ground like a broken doll.
Hovering above, Marcus smirked down at a crumpled River. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked with feigned politeness. “You’ll have to excuse me. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
Sucking a painful breath, River sat up and twisted her head to look in her opponent’s eyes. There was something familiar about them, the way they seemed to change from gray to blue at will.
“River!” Simon called in dismay as he watched Marcus strike his sister to the ground, his heart kick-starting only when she had sat back up again.
Even from a distance, he could see the stoic determination on her face and he couldn’t let this continue. “You don’t have to fight him.” He instructed in a panic, struggling futilely against his bindings. “It’s okay to run away.”
Marcus chuckled as River’s dark eyes remained fixed on his. She hadn’t even flinched when her brother had called out to her. “You’re wasting your last breath, doctor.” He acknowledged blithely, observing the empty rage in the girl’s eyes as he cocked his head curiously. “Poor thing doesn’t even know who you are. Neither of us, for that matter.” He amended.
“Just don’t, don’t touch her.” Simon warned desperately, hating that there was nothing he could do. That he couldn’t even try.
“A little too late for that.” Marcus shrugged casually. Turning towards Simon, there was a malicious gleam in his eyes. “Did she tell you that we were lovers?” He asked offhandedly.
Simon’s face hardened instantly, his eyes turning murderous. “She would never. I don‘t believe it.” He argued strongly, but the words tasted like denial. He had seen enough horribleness in one night to know that anything was possible.
Marcus just hummed knowingly as he stepped over a severed arm, a foot, methodically making his way over to the boy. “I’m sure she would have told you eventually.” He comforted mockingly. “If it hadn’t been for your impending death.”
Behind him, River climbed in the opposite direction, making her journey over heaps of slick bodies to the weapons cache. Sliding her hand over the instruments, she felt what she was looking for. Grasping a pair of sais, a dark ire pushed her to her feet, her mind focused intensely on only one objective.
Simon’s lip curled up in disgust as the horrific image of his sister and that thing together, intimate, seared irreversibly in his brain. “She’s just a child.” He accused vehemently.
“Seventeen today.” Marcus acknowledged indifferently, he almost seemed bored as he closed the distance between them. “Grew up while you fumbled uselessly around the universe. No doubt motivated by the false hope that you could somehow be her hero.”
“Ta ma de hun dan!” Simon spat under his breath, his face beet-red.
Stopping before the doctor, Marcus’ lips found his trademark smirk, feeding off the anger he‘d provoked. “And as you were busy failing her so miserably,” he went on, “I simply provided her what you could not.” Pausing for a moment, he played casually with the end of his crisp sleeve. “Come to think of it.” He amended, “You should be thanking me.”
“Never.” Simon spat, a rage he had never before felt pumping like venom through his veins.
“Very well, then.” Marcus resigned unconcernedly. Jerking his arm back, a short blade emerged from under his sleeve, catching the light, and Simon’s widened eyes before it was impaled cleanly through his torso.
Everything went white as an impossible pain tore through Simon’s gut, and for an instant he thought he was gone, floating somewhere where it no longer hurt. Then the world came spiraling back in all its unwanted intensity. Blood rushed up into his throat where he choked on it, coughing it violently from his lips.
In a haze, in a world that resembled a dream, Simon saw River emerge from behind Marcus. His head and eyes were heavy, lolling shut without his permission, but he heard a scuffle, the same sickening separation of flesh and bone, only this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t his own.
After another minute of rustling, there was a pressing against his stomach, the sound of chains snapping like string before he was pulled from the platform to the ground.
The world swam before Simon’s eyes as he tried to focus. Minutes passed as he faded in and out. There was a softness surrounding him, a cool hand on his brow and something falling against his cheeks. The droplets felt both warm and cool, like a summer’s rain.
Slowly, everything came into focus as he fought the pull towards the unknown. River was staring down at him, pain and love furrowing her brow as tears painted paths down her dirty, handsome face.
Hope trumped pain as Simon recognized the sadness in his sister’s expression. Coughing on more blood, his surprise was stifled. “You know who I am.” He choked in relief.
River gave him a ridiculous look, her eyebrows raised slightly as she cradled her brother’s head in her lap. “You’re Simon.” She stated plainly, then her expression changed, this time it was hopeful.
“Don’t talk.” She commanded, soothing her free hand across his forehead. “I can feel them coming.”
Lifting his left arm, he felt for the tiny hand pressed urgently against his wound, and squeezed it weakly. “I-I’m so sorry, River. He was right. I couldn’t save you.”
River shook her head fervently. “No, you did! You saved me, Simon.” She vowed, smiling through tears. “I see things clearly now.”
Simon smiled peacefully as he rolled his head back and looked straight up into the night sky. “It’s bright. Brighter than you’d think it’d be.” He confessed dreamily.
“No! Don’t look there.” Panic seized River as she shook her brother gently. “Come back. It won’t be long now. Then we can be together.” She promised, pulling him closer, refusing to let them have him.
Words emptied mindlessly from her lips, she had to keep talking, keep him here. Just a little while longer. “You can tell me stories and I‘ll listen. Promise not to interrupt. I don’t do that anymore.” She vowed, rocking them slightly.
“We can go anywhere. Home if you’d like. And I‘ll be good, Simon, I swear. Just please…please don‘t leave me here alone.” She was sobbing uncontrollably now, an unconscious desperation taking hold.
Leaning down, River pressed her cheek against Simon’s, his skin cool where everything inside her burned. She remained there, listening to his breath grow more shallow and the night grow steadily silent.
Laying a few feet away on the hard ground, Marcus had heard every word. He had regained consciousness almost immediately after the girl had stabbed him, but instead of yanking the sai from his neck and getting to his feet, he simply lie there listening to River offer her brother a future, one with love and hope and everything else humankind desperately clamored for in their darkest hour.
As he listened to River quietly weep, as the number of living eventually faded to from three to two, he wondered why he still hadn’t moved.
But most of all, he wondered why he, Marcus Hamilton, the one who had carefully orchestrated everything to cumulate in this very moment, couldn’t find one ounce of satisfaction in its sounds.
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TBC
Next CH: Revelations