Deliverance

[Trillian]

[reserved]
 
He wasn’t a thief, moral like the father struggling to feed his family and steals a loaf of bread or immoral like the cheat at a poker game with an ace up his sleeve. He wasn’t a con-artist with a silvered tongue, nor a merchant with blackmail or bribery on his mind. He wasn’t a courtesan for the rich or a whore for the drunkards, not a conniving politician or a backstabbing gentleman of noble breeding. He wasn’t a rapist, nor a plunderer, but he had committed a most heinous crime of the type that his background and upbringing could neither sweep under the carpet nor excuse.

A coward, who had watched a man die upon his father’s employed estate. It was attested that surely had motive to kill this man – a simple farmer – who worked the land alongside his father, paying rent in a percentage of food harvested. It was a harsh year, a year without rain and with unmerciful gods who did not take pity on their worshippers. The public had became manic and chaotic, seeking answers in the wildest of places to end their rationing torment. Opinions grew brasher, judgments harsher, and so, as it was witnessed that a man drowned before this youth’s very eyes and he took not a step to save him, he was to be tried and likely executed as a murderer. For why else would someone not help another in this time of need? He was either a coward or a villain, and the heated arguments of the townsfolk condemned him for both.

It was then a voice was raised that a sacrifice had not been made from the land for many years and perhaps this was what angered the gods. Documents of old were lost or ruined, and what little could be gleaned from the remains talked of the God of Night walking upon the fields beneath the stars and blessing the crops.

Discussions and observations grew of the mysterious man who lived in the castle overlooking the town. Such a lofty view should come from the Gods themselves, and the man who resided in this castle, aah, he was only ever seen wandering at night, walking the fields…

And so Gage, the young prisoner, came to be bound by the hands, blindfolded and walked roughly to the dark estate upon the hills. Shoeless, his feet were bloody by the time he was delivered to the heavy oaken doors, not that he could see his position.

The two men who had brought him here had ignored his questions, and so Gage believed this walk to be to his end, a noose perhaps around his neck. But there were no gallows for him to stand upon, no itching rope hitched about his throat. He was bound by the feet instead and pushed roughly over so that he fell and hit his head upon the stoned entrance, dazed but not unconscious as the bearers of the sacrifice stole themselves away before night could claim the sky in entirety.

The moon was new, and the sky salted with the bright wash of stars, making it somehow magical to the sightless young man beneath them. His ears could still hear beneath the cloth of his blindfold however, and so he heard the door open.

[Existentially Odd]

Angus peered out from the crack between the heavy wooden door and the stone that surrounded it, looking first to the empty darkness, before his gaze fell to the bound man on the entrance stones at his feet. Again, he looked to the night, feeling that this was some sort of trick; a gift left to mock him? He could not think why, he\'d given no-one reason to do so, had deliberately kept to himself, his secrets contained within the labyrinthine stone walls of his home. Certainly he\'d encouraged the ridiculous superstitions that had seen him left in solitude - as anyone who wished to be forgotten would - but beyond that... he\'d entertained no jests and wouldn\'t tolerate them.

Quickly angered, he stepped from behind the shield of his door and sank a hard boot into the vulnerable ribs of the boy. "You c\'n jes\' fuck off!" he yelled furiously over the man\'s cries, glaring at the nearest bushes, expecting snickering eyes to be watching. No noise came, however. This confused him and his eyes narrowed as he looked downward, hands curled at his sides.

He was not a large man, by any means - in fact, his always-covered feet were enclosed in boots too big for him, so that he might stuff them with wadding and gain some extra inches to feed his ego - and of no remarkable aspect. His hair was merely brown, brushed off his forehead and tied into a pony tail that brushed his collar, his face bearing no distinctively hideous nor beautiful feature (though his mouth held too many teeth, causing them to squash crookedly into the minimal space allowed). His brown eyes were slightly watery, like they were fading from sighting the world over too many years, and smaller than evenness would have allowed, but still... they were uninteresting. Worthy of being overlooked, as were his simple black pants and cream open-necked jerkin.

His nose twitched then, as the scent of blood came to him, and he looked down at the lad in confusion. His feet were bloody. Like he\'d been dragged here unwillingly. What was the meaning of that?  "Wha\' d\'ye want, boy?" he growled down at the stranger, crouching down and tearing off the blindfold. He sensed that this joke wasn\'t aimed at him at all, now, and he wished to see this in the man\'s expression as he spoke to him. His tilted his own scowling face so that he and the prostrate man were looking more evenly at one another... only noticing then that it was no man at all.  Definitely more of a boy, which was even more intriguing.

[Trillian]

Gage was short of breath after his initial protesting yell when something large and solid thunked into his side.  He groaned before holding the rest of his noises in, not wishing to let his tormentor have the further satisfaction of hearing his cries.  A foul demand for him to leave was shouted into the empty night and all Gage could do was frown and wonder at it.
 
When his blindfold was snatched away, Gage opened his eyes progressively, revealing ocean coloured green-blue irises set in a average (maybe pretty) face that was old enough to no longer belong to a child but not old enough to be properly adult.  At seventeen, Gage had been a dilemma for the townsfolk in all manner of ways.
 
His stare was wide but not frightened once he realised that he was to be left at the mercy of this man.  The townsfolk had been a mob, feeding each other in their anger and driven without mercy.  Gage had the opinion that one man might treat him better than many.

[Existentially Odd]

Angus grabbed the boy\'s jaw in one hand, mushing his lips together without necessarily intending to and glaring down at him.  "Talk!" he demanded gruffly, shaking the head in his strong, cold grasp.  "Who are ye\'?  Wha\' d\'ye want?"

He enjoyed the feel of the warm smooth flesh in his hand and liked the look of the pretty eyes just beyond his knee, but if there were any ulterior motives in the boy being there, he would walk into the house and leave him bound to meet the morning.  He was not in the business of looking for trouble from the villagers now that he was so well established here.

[Trillian]

"Gage," he told the man who held him by the mouth, his name coming out as misshapen as his lips.  Gage raised his hands so that he could show his bound wrists more prominently, to reveal that he\'d had no choice in the matter coming here.  "Le\'go?" he asked as a request for the second question asked of him.  He was Gage and he wanted to be let go.  That covered it all.
 
If the man whose doorstep upon which he\'d been deposited showed him enough mercy to cut him free and send him on his way, Gage would not make him trouble.  He would seek out another town, start his life over and expect that the town that had abandoned him for dead would not search for him if they never knew what came of him.
 
Blue-green eyes were pleading.  It was easy to see the light of hope in Gage\'s stare.

[Existentially Odd]

The gesture drew the recluse\'s gaze to the bound hands, causing him to ponder the meaning of that as well. Why would this Gage be delivered to his doorstep, then? He had to have been delivered, for the fact was, no boy would tie his own wrists and throw himself on a stranger\'s doorstep with profusely bleeding feet unless he had some seriously morbid curiosities to satisfy - especially with the reputation Angus had created for himself in the surrounding community (he particularly liked the Night God feeding on children\'s brains if they misbehaved story... he wished he were a child laying in bed at night hearing such tales of horror to send him off to sleep).

No, Gage was a delivery of an entirely unknown nature and there was no reason for him to let the lad go without further exploration of the situation. If the townspeople wished Gage to be here at his mercy... then he would oblige them.  They were, after all, his sources of entertainment and of regular nourishment.

With a final, furtive glance at the surrounding darkness - nary a cricket chirped nor a bat flew in the early evening - he wound his fingers through his visitor\'s brown locks and dragged him inside (licking his lips involuntarily when he felt the stain of blood), flinging the lesser weight negligently across the flagstones of the entranceway so that he might slam the wooden door closed and bolt it firmly behind himself.  Security for himself must always be his primary focus; this single mortal was no great threat to him.

[Trillian]

Gage made a strangled sound as he was yanked inside by his hair, struggling to find his feet and unable to get them underneath him in time before he was hurled across the stone floor.  He landed roughly on his left shoulder and a pain flared that had him releasing his breath in a loud grunt.
 
It seemed he would not be released.  Perhaps this man wanted a slave, someone to cook and clean for him.  There were worse things in life, and Gage was sensible enough to hope that one day, after some time of obedience, he would run away (as long as he wasn\'t shackled).
 
He rolled off his throbbing shoulder and onto his back.  Staring up at the ceiling before Angus came into view, then his gaze flicked to the other man.  His expression now wasn\'t quite so hopeful to think that he would be released easily.  The other didn\'t seem to really care how he felt, but then, it was a detachment that Gage could understand.  After all, he\'d been deposited here for this man to do with what he would.  The worst Gage could think of was a few beatings if he didn\'t perform a chore the correct way.

[Existentially Odd]

Angus helped Gage to his feet - by the hair, naturally - and stuck his face close to the boy\'s.  It wasn\'t that he was unable to see in the pitch darkness of his castle, he wanted Gage to be able to see him.

"Why were ye\' sent here, bound and blinfolded?" he demanded, his voice nondescriptly masculine, except for the odd accent it had. It wasn\'t of Gage\'s native region, though Angus knew it wasn\'t distinctly of any region, for the vampire had lived many lifetimes in a vast array of districts and towns, picking up mannerisms of speech here, other languages there, all of it rolling into a fairly lyrical mish-mash manner of speaking at his great age. "Wha\' did ye\' do to end up here?  Was it a punishment of some sor\'?  Will they come back to claim ye\' on the morrow?"

He didn\'t move his face away and he gripped Gage\'s shirtfront in case the boy objected to their intimate promximity enough to attempt taking his leave. He liked the pressure of being up close, he didn\'t wish Gage to be thinking that he would be some sort of well-fed slave for a short time and then released (as he was currently daydreaming) and continue avoiding what the true dilemma here was; Angus needed to know why this gift had been placed on his doorstep and what he was expected to do with it (preferably without digging through the boy\'s mind).

[Trillian]

Being picked up by the hair was tiresome, and bothersome because his feet were still bound and it was difficult to get them under. The pain pricked at his eyes but this time he didn\'t cry out, only grunted through clenched teeth until he was standing.
 
Gage remained quiet after that, until the string of questions were asked and it appeared no more would come. He wasn\'t the type to hurriedly stammer answers. A very slow and deliberate young man, he\'d frustrated his father when he\'d worked the land, taking his time in a manner that some heralded him a simpleton. Gage\'s mind, however, worked just as fast as any other.
 
He went through the questions, answering them one by one with care. He wished to reveal only as much as was necessary and not a shred more.
 
"The townsfolk sent me here after a trial." He was thoughtful. "I did nothing to be brought here, and I believe this is punishment," he said quietly and matter-of-factly. He was calm, perhaps a little too calm given the circumstances, and his shoulder was aching. "I doubt they wish to reclaim me."
 
He was well-spoken for he\'d been schooled, and what he\'d told Angus was a great deal more talking than he\'d done in one go for the past year. He didn\'t speak up until he believed it most necessary. He believed it was most necessary now, however.

[Existentially Odd]

"Punishment?" Angus repeated, licking his lips thoughtfully as he looked the boy over.  A frown made its way across his pale forehead as thought about the implications beyond Gage\'s answers.  The vampire was able to deduce why the townsfolk would believe his home was the perfect place to dole out the retribution that this boy might deserve - he fostered those stories himself, after all - but he had to wonder what a mortal could do that would warrant such drastic action.  Never, in all his years of skulking and fostering false impressions of his own persona, had he been presented with someone upon whom he was expected to unleash his own version of punishment... whatever he chose that to be.

From this, he could only conclude that the boy had done something truly heinous, for him to be presented to a thing cloaked in nightmares and whispered horror as his sentence.

"Wha\' did ye\' do, then?" he asked suspiciously, the frown disappearing as he released his visitor\'s shirt and leaned back a little.  The nature of the crime didn\'t really bother Angus, for the villagers had passed judgment and he was already getting used to the idea that it was his duty to mete out any and all penalties as he saw fit (no point disappointing them or demeaning his own reputation, was there?), but he was curious.  "Why was there a trial?"

[Trillian]

"I did nothing," Gage repeated, not stressing or insisting with his words, merely saying them as though it had been the first time they were out of his mouth.  He knew the other man would likely not understand, but Gage was curious as to how the other would deal with the riddle of Gage\'s presence.  The townsfolk had reacted badly to his non-deed.  There was a possibiliity that this man might react just as badly.  It was better to keep him in the dark.  The concept of being thought a simpleton had let Gage out of many duties.  Perhaps if this man came to the same conclusion, he would not act as harshly upon Gage.  "There was a trial because they thought something should be done," he replied to the second question asked of him.  There was no emotion in his voice whatsoever, though he took the time to straighten out his clothing.

[Existentially Odd]

Angus had put some effort into puzzling through the vague answers he was given but when he still came up with no real understanding of what the child was talking about - and he couldn\'t be bothered digging around in the mortal\'s mind for answers of his own - he followed through on the angry impulse that surged through him.

He punched Gage with a hefty amount of his supernatural strength behind it - a neat right hook that was aimed at the lad\'s left cheek - wanting the mortal to understand that he wasn\'t interested in playing games to get his answers.  When he asked something, he expected to be told straight what he wanted to know.  "Answer me proper!  Wha\' did ye\' do to be trialled?" he roared.

[Trillian]

He hadn\'t expected a blow such as the one he received on his face.  A meaty slap sounded, like someone smacking the rump of a pig to make it move from one pen to the other.  Gage didn\'t hear it though, for a flare of light sparked in front of his eyes and he could feel himself falling
 
floating
 
towards the floor, spinning slightly.  Hands splayed out to catch himself but once they made contact his body was too heavy to hold up and he landed roughly on the cold stones.  The world had narrowed to a tiny pinprick as he fought for consciousness, white dots in his vision covering what little he could see.  A distant voice could be heard but Gage made no sense of it, only after a short delay did he realise it was a question about the trial.
 
Blinking at the grains in the stone in front of his face, resting on his right cheek and feeling like there was something heavy on his face upon his left (though he couldn\'t see anything), Gage tried to answer.
 
"Drow..."
 
Pain flared in his face and his vision of the world grew smaller still.  Everything was washed in gray.
 
"Nnh," he said, finishing off his statement before his eyelids slid shut and he was forced to surrender his consciousness.

[Existentially Odd]

Angus peered down at the mortal as he got that one word out - again, it made no real sense - and then passed out.  He growled down at the figure slumped at his feet, infuriated that the man was so weak he couldn\'t take one punch (and further infuriated that he hadn\'t thought the action through to any great degree before acting on it, causing Gage to pass out).  He glared through the darkness but found his anger abating as the unusual sound of deep breathing filled the empty stone space and he was reminded that the boy had taken beatings before he\'d been delivered to Angus\' home.  The punch was obviously just the final stroke of a bell tolled into silence.

He hauled the warmblood to his feet and held him close, deciding that he might as well place the lad where he wanted him, since there\'d be no chance of Gage seeing the way, at this point.  When he awoke in the southern turret and decided he\'d work on escaping (which Angus believed he\'d inevitably do), the vampire would have the advantage of being the only one to have seen the complicated path to the castle\'s exit from the room he planned on making the mortal\'s home.  Gage would get lost and be found by him in the maze of passages and rooms long before he tasted freedom (it was also a good idea to keep the boy injured enough that he couldn\'t move quickly, he supposed).

The vampire stared curiously down at the face lolling just before his own, liking the soft warmth of him against his cold body, enjoying the little puffs of air coming out of Gage\'s nostrils.  Angus pressed his own head forward, nuzzling at the boy\'s, tasting of his lips and kissing the hot swelling on his cheek before licking it.  The aroma of blood was thick about him, the taste - as his tongue found a trickle in Gage\'s hair - sweet and stimulating.

Angus wasn\'t used to such... indulgence.  He kept himself apart, only venturing out when the mood struck him (which was rarely, in these years of his life) and killing humanely.  He never left victims in the same vicinity, always ensured they looked like they\'d died some way other than by exsanguination and chose victims of different shapes, creeds and sexes.  Certainly, he had a preference for young victims - especially boys - but knew it would cause too great a fuss if he dined exclusively on those whose lives were still laid out before them.

The concept of feeding and not killing hadn\'t ever occurred to him... until this moment when he found his fangs in Gage\'s throat and his prisoner\'s blood filling his mouth.  He hadn\'t even acknowledged that he was hungry... yet here he was feeding!  With a blink of shock, he pulled back, only to be hit in the eye with a spurt of blood.  He pressed his mouth there again and thought rapidly.  He didn\'t wish Gage to die as soon as he\'d arrived; that wouldn\'t be punishment enough to satisfy the villagers and it wouldn\'t teach Gage any of the valuable lessons he might learn from being trapped here in the castle with him.  But... how was he to stop the blood now that he\'d unwittingly begun its flow?  Frantically, he looked around the foyer for something that might plug this great flood, knowing it wouldn\'t suffice and

Your blood rejuvenates

suddenly it occurred to him.  He bit his own lip and awkwardly brushed it over the wound, relieved to feel the river become a trickle in very little time... and then it was sealed.

Angus pulled back hesitantly, admiring his handiwork and grinning when he saw no mark, no opening, just a pristine neck.  He\'d probably taken a quarter of the boy\'s worth in blood, but his heart was still beating and breath hadn\'t stopped entering and leaving the fragile body.  He was still warm and alive.  Angus\' hands roamed Gage\'s body curiously, enamoured by the creature that had taught him a brand new life lesson... after so long emulating it.  And all while he slumbered.

The vampire carried his prize up a nearby set of stone stairs as he fondled Gage\'s body with one hand, scoping the goodly shape to the bones beneath flesh and muscle that didn\'t seem well acquainted with hard work - unlike most of the farmers Angus had ever met.  It was curious, really, how little tone there was to the lad\'s biceps, how soft his unworked hands were, yet how ripe his buttocks seemed.  The vampire could only suppose it was the grace of good fortune, for Gage was also adequately equipped as a man (he found once he worked a hand between them to cup and press at the mortal\'s crotch).

Since his pace was slowing and walking was becoming awkward due to his groping, he gave up and concentrated on getting Gage to the room he felt best suited the situation.  It took nearly half an hour of travelling to get there, for the southern turret was at the far end of the castle (the south end, naturally) and took dedication to discover beyond the maze of corridors, alcoves, niches and rooms that lay between it and the front entrance.  It overlooked nothing but forest - since the village lay to the north west - and had a few slim openings in the rounded stone walls that passed as windows (meaning that Angus would never visit Gage there in the day time) and afforded this tree-filled view, plus circular stairs that wound from the bottom to the second and third floors.  There was nothing but stone at the base, the stairs built out of the same material, but there was an old cot with bedding (that was becoming somewhat weathered, he noted as he dropped Gage upon it) and a mattress on it on the first floor up.  A table and two wooden chairs also stood in this space and Angus took the time to go and get an oil lantern, flint and steel and a candle on a holder to place on the table while Gage slumbered.

He made sure to bolt and lock the heavy wooden door as he exited - the turret had obviously been used for a purpose very similar to this one at some point, warranting the locked door and remote access and confirming that it was perfect.  He didn\'t lock anything when he was inside, of course, for he was confident that Gage would never overcome or trick him into letting him out.  Instead, he merely made his way up to the first floor and sat on one of the chairs after he lit the candle and finally removed his prisoner\'s bonds, toying with the filthy rags as he waited for the brunette to wake up.  Of course, if the mortal continued to slumber until dawn, Angus would take his leave and return the following evening, but he was content with waiting for the answers he was owed, at this point.

He leaned back on his chair after the time stretched with only Gage\'s breathing to amuse him, staring up at the third floor and trying to recall what was up there.  It was an afterthought as far as building went, for the floor was made from wood (as opposed to the stone his boots currently rested on) and didn\'t sit evenly in the space between this floor and the top of the turret - being that it seemed closer to the top.  Once, this round tower had been used only for the castle\'s defense, the thin slit windows - which Gage would have to work damn hard to squeeze a leg through, where an arm was far easier - were used only to fire arrows and bolts from so... he wasn\'t sure what was up there when the stairs had always granted access to the windows.  He glanced at the unconscious Gage, then decided to get up and check, in case there were potential dangers stored up there.

After half an hour, he returned with a smile on his face.  There were manacles built into the wall on the third floor, and a machine he\'d seen used to stretch men\'s arms from their bodies when they didn\'t wish to confess their crimes - not to mention shackles on that table and a steel drum designed to hold a fire for heating... instruments.  This had been a prison once... and now it was again.  He settled back into his seat thinking... oh, all sorts of things, now that he\'d been inspired.  He was certain he\'d live up to the townsfolk\'s collective expectations of his ability to punish Gage now.

[Trillian]

Gage did awaken before dawn, feeling weak and aching.  He lifted a hand to touch it to his face and uttered a soft grunt as he discovered the swollen flesh of his left cheek.  His eyelids felt heavy and as he turned his head to look about where he lay, he could only see blurring outlines of things.  With this movement, his neck protested a deep muscle ache, but when his hand moved to investigate by trickling fingertips over his flesh, he found nothing.
 
He tried to sit up and managed to get halway before the room spun and he fell backward onto the bed.  Bed?  He had a memory of landing on stone, now he was upon a mattress.  He\'d been shifted in his sleep then. Running a hand over his chest and then again, as though wiping the palm like something unsavory was upon it, he studied the ceiling to his room.
 
Angus had done well to weaken him, for taking so much blood had Gage licking his lips and wanting a drink and some food, but unable to even search for that.  He shifted on the bed, curling his fingers over the edge so he could pull himself to it and then over.  Attempting to brace himself with his arms, he struggled off the bed and landed roughly on the floor.
 
He lay there, panting for a long moment as specks of colour danced before his eyes, reminding him of the time he\'d drunk a great deal of his father\'s wine supply enough to spin the room and cause his body to purge the liquid.  He was thankful to be without the knotting in his stomach, though there was a throbbing pain all about his body to substitute it.