South Attic, Early Wednesday Morning
Jun. 28th, 2006 08:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
demonbelthazorBel slept uneasily, tossing and turning, his dreams haunted as much as his waking hours.
He was ten years old when he made his first kill. He remembered her eyes, brown and defiant and scared, as she struggled to hold back more of the tears that already streaked her cheeks. He remembered feel of her hair in his hand as he jerked her head back and the muffled cry she made when he slid his athame across her throat. Most of all he remembered the blood on his hands.
He liked the classes about learning to use his powers. He needed them to be strong to fight off the other young demons. Whenever Raynor wasn't around, they would throw fireballs or punch or kick him. They told him he wasn't worthy to be in the Brotherhood, that he should be killed. Half-breed, they called him. He was getting stronger; the younger boys left him mostly alone now, and the ones his age like Tarkin wouldn't bother him unless there were more than two of them. It was Vornac and the older boys who still abused him. They wouldn't if Raynor was watching, but Belthazor knew from experience that nothing escaped Raynor's notice. He knew what was happening but made no attempt to stop it. His protection would only go so far.
This day was different. The upper class, and some of the middle, his class, would be making their first kills. They'd brought the witches in, bound and gagged to prevent them from casting spells or using powers. It wasn't a test of skill or survival, it was simply to feel what it was like to kill. Fireballs were not to be used; it had to be bare-handed or with an athame.
Belthazor watched as the older boys went first, taking pleasure in snapping necks and stabbing hearts. One by one the witches died, and he struggled for the resolve to do as ordered. But when his turn came and he looked at the witch's proud but frightened eyes, he faltered.
Raynor saw his hesitation and shook his head in disappointment. He turned his back.
Vornac reached him first. Belthazor barely had time to register the movement before Vornac's fist was connecting with his stomach. The other boys all jumped in, shouting and punching and kicking. He fought back at first, but they outnumbered him, so he curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the worst of their blows.
The attack stopped when Raynor turned around. The boys made a path to let him through as he strode forward and angrily picked Belthazor up from the floor. "Do your duty, Belthazor," he said. "Kill the witch." He shoved Belthazor to his knees beside the girl, dropping an athame beside his hand. "Do not disappoint me again," he added before stepping back.
Belthazor looked at the athame, then looked at the witch. He could sense the boys behind him waiting for him to falter again so they could administer another beating. This time Raynor might not stop them. He had to prove he was a demon or the threats to kill the half-breed would come true.
He picked up the athame with a trembling hand, then seized a handful of the witch's hair and jerked her head back. Her eyes never left his, even as he drew the athame across her throat, slashing fast and deep to make her death quick. I'm sorry, went unspoken. To utter the words would mean another beating.
"Now that one," Raynor said, pointing to another witch. Tarkin whined behind him; that was his kill. Belthazor moved to the girl, avoiding this witch's eyes, and yanked her to her feet. He dropped the athame and put both hands on her neck and twisted. Bones snapped and he dropped her lifeless body to the ground.
"Well done," Raynor said. "Now the rest." There were three more witches remaining, and he coldly murdered them all.
After that it got easier.
Bel awoke and sat up with a cry. He didn't want to remember this. Already the details were fading from his mind as he willed them away. Shaking, he heard Claire's voice in his mind: "Remember." No. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
He was ten years old when he made his first kill. He remembered her eyes, brown and defiant and scared, as she struggled to hold back more of the tears that already streaked her cheeks. He remembered feel of her hair in his hand as he jerked her head back and the muffled cry she made when he slid his athame across her throat. Most of all he remembered the blood on his hands.
He liked the classes about learning to use his powers. He needed them to be strong to fight off the other young demons. Whenever Raynor wasn't around, they would throw fireballs or punch or kick him. They told him he wasn't worthy to be in the Brotherhood, that he should be killed. Half-breed, they called him. He was getting stronger; the younger boys left him mostly alone now, and the ones his age like Tarkin wouldn't bother him unless there were more than two of them. It was Vornac and the older boys who still abused him. They wouldn't if Raynor was watching, but Belthazor knew from experience that nothing escaped Raynor's notice. He knew what was happening but made no attempt to stop it. His protection would only go so far.
This day was different. The upper class, and some of the middle, his class, would be making their first kills. They'd brought the witches in, bound and gagged to prevent them from casting spells or using powers. It wasn't a test of skill or survival, it was simply to feel what it was like to kill. Fireballs were not to be used; it had to be bare-handed or with an athame.
Belthazor watched as the older boys went first, taking pleasure in snapping necks and stabbing hearts. One by one the witches died, and he struggled for the resolve to do as ordered. But when his turn came and he looked at the witch's proud but frightened eyes, he faltered.
Raynor saw his hesitation and shook his head in disappointment. He turned his back.
Vornac reached him first. Belthazor barely had time to register the movement before Vornac's fist was connecting with his stomach. The other boys all jumped in, shouting and punching and kicking. He fought back at first, but they outnumbered him, so he curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the worst of their blows.
The attack stopped when Raynor turned around. The boys made a path to let him through as he strode forward and angrily picked Belthazor up from the floor. "Do your duty, Belthazor," he said. "Kill the witch." He shoved Belthazor to his knees beside the girl, dropping an athame beside his hand. "Do not disappoint me again," he added before stepping back.
Belthazor looked at the athame, then looked at the witch. He could sense the boys behind him waiting for him to falter again so they could administer another beating. This time Raynor might not stop them. He had to prove he was a demon or the threats to kill the half-breed would come true.
He picked up the athame with a trembling hand, then seized a handful of the witch's hair and jerked her head back. Her eyes never left his, even as he drew the athame across her throat, slashing fast and deep to make her death quick. I'm sorry, went unspoken. To utter the words would mean another beating.
"Now that one," Raynor said, pointing to another witch. Tarkin whined behind him; that was his kill. Belthazor moved to the girl, avoiding this witch's eyes, and yanked her to her feet. He dropped the athame and put both hands on her neck and twisted. Bones snapped and he dropped her lifeless body to the ground.
"Well done," Raynor said. "Now the rest." There were three more witches remaining, and he coldly murdered them all.
After that it got easier.
Bel awoke and sat up with a cry. He didn't want to remember this. Already the details were fading from his mind as he willed them away. Shaking, he heard Claire's voice in his mind: "Remember." No. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
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Date: 2006-06-28 01:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-28 01:16 pm (UTC)"Is she threatening you?"
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Date: 2006-06-28 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-06-28 01:50 pm (UTC)"Why isn't she screaming?" she asked. "She's a witch. I thought you killed witches."
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Date: 2006-06-28 01:54 pm (UTC)"I know that she must be there, Cole," she said softly. "But I can't see her." She touched his arm. "Is she talking to you or just being there?"
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Date: 2006-06-28 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-28 02:09 pm (UTC)She looked over to where the ghost was supposed to be. "He protects me and he loves me." She shook her head. "Killing me is not something he would do or even thinks about."
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Date: 2006-06-28 02:13 pm (UTC)"He hurt me. And I was all tied up so I couldn't even fight back."
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Date: 2006-06-28 03:37 pm (UTC)"I wish I wasn't dead," she said, before disappearing again.
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