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salenakingston · 3 years

Text

Another bit of backstory. I’ve really been enjoying writing these snippets. Prompt submissions are still open!

Prompt: None

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death, Corpses/Bodies (minor), Cannibalism (minor)

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 4,273 words

“I’m surprised you saw someone so new to the complex.”

“It is rare indeed, but there’s something peculiar about him.”

“Yes, I noticed that too.”

“And your thoughts?”

“He isn’t a greater risk than any of the other agents.”

“This won’t be the only time he appears.”

“I know, but because he is not a threat, or has proven what he is capable of, it is left to simpler decisions for now.”

“If I may interject.”

“Yes?”

“I might be able to help.”

“You have a plan? Why the interest in him?”

“It’s part of my job to assess new agents. Besides, you’ve never seen anyone connected to me before. I’ve noticed some quirks of my own. This plan is not without consequence, but may be an efficient way to learn more about him.”

“Very well. Let’s hear it.”

----

Malceum paced his small room, his mind racing ever since he had returned. He hated that she had been right in her own assessment. He had insisted she allowed him to give her a ‘proper’ physical, checking how her body was currently against everything that was listed in her records. He wondered if it was to prove a point, or for entertainment, that she granted his request. She had been compliant through the entire process, obeying every instruction he offered.

Part of him wondered why she changed her tune so quickly, when she had the confidence to mouth off to him before. How was it that the mention of one woman could make her flip a switch? It didn’t make any sense, just like her own assessment. Everything matched up with her records.

A body that was functioning, but only just enough. Every piece of her seemed to have some kind of problem. The beast seemed to entertain him further, having taken a seat next to her bed so they could discuss some treatment options. Mistake number one was suggesting options of a magic-based nature. Since the moment he’d walked into her room, she never raised his voice to him. Sure, she offered him plenty of sass, but not anything above her acceptive tone. The animal finally began to show its fangs, quite literally. Her tone grew sharp, growling echoed in her voice.

“Absolutely not,” she had said. Why? Even though the surgeon was confident in his skills, he knew based solely on facts that magic could offer more than just his bare hands. Who would want traditional means over something like that? Ok, if she was going to make such a fuss about it, then best not to revisit the subject. Either that or press her another time.

There had to be some kind of solution. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Mistake number two was trying to negotiate a further treatment plan. Anything he tried to prescribe to her was something she had already tried, or was shot down. “I already make use of the oxygen tank whenever I am in here or on down time. Too many drugs will either mess with my senses, or make it so I will have to take an extended leave from my work. Neither I am willing to accept,” she had said then. She was so damn stubborn.

He had half a mind to discharge her from work anyways, but he feared her. And he feared his employer. She didn’t seem like someone who would lash out at him, but her short temper and growing frustration could fester, putting him in the line of fire.

He had to save his own hide, even though he didn’t know why he bothered.

In the end, he cleared her just like the rest of them.

And that left him here, pacing, wondering if he had made the right decision.

His racing mind wasn’t doing the headache he had developed any favors. His lack of sleep was nothing new, but extended sessions always took a toll on him. Whenever he did sleep, nightmares were there to greet him. There was no safe haven for him, not even in a place as protected as the Whitegale Estate.

A knocking at his door guided him back to reality, “Y-Yes?”

He couldn’t see who was on the other side, as he kept his door locked. It was one of the reasons that kept him from getting close to the other personnel he worked with. It kept him from being a danger to those around him, and kept them from seeing the mess of a human being he had become. It was a gentle voice, probably one of the nurses. She had given another knock on the door, probably just to make sure he knew she was still there, “Mr. Whitegale is looking for you.”

Again? So soon? Why? Had Salena blabbed to him about their discussion? One hand moved to his head, the pounding growing worse from the onslaught of questions. He won’t know until he gets there, and he could not keep his employer waiting, “T-Than-nk y-you. I’ll be t-the-ere so-oon.” He could hear her footsteps leaving the door, leaving him alone once more.

Well, as alone as he could ever be. He would never be truly alone.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he was standing still before he found the will to make his way to the door. The halls were empty, and one look outside the window showed why. Night blanketed the sky, the only light coming from the moon and stars. This just made him question more. He couldn’t have been isolating himself for that long. Why would his employer want to see him at such a late hour? Had someone been brought in late? Then why single him out?

And why allow him to come on his own time? No one else had come to bring his attention back towards the summon.

Malceum’s eyes fell on the door standing between him and the man on the other side. He had done his best to get his trembling hands to calm, swallowing down his nervousness. Alexander had not been unfair to him so far, in fact the man had been rather generous. There was no reason to believe that would change now. Hand grasped at the knob, turning, and then he stepped into the office.

Alexander sat behind a paper filled desk, two chairs sitting at the far side of where he was. Their eyes met upon his entrance, door closing behind him. He moved his hands together, doing his best to mask the shaking that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. If it wasn’t out of nervousness, then it had something to do with him.

“Malceum. Thank you for coming. I know this seems rather sudden. I wanted to start with thanking you for taking care of Salena. I know she can be hard to handle, but she means well.”

“N-No pr-robl-lem. I-It’s my j-job-b to t-tak-ke ca-are of th-hos-se y-you s-sen-nd to me.”

“Yes, I am aware, but she updated me on the talk you had.” Of course she had. Why would he have expected otherwise? He couldn’t help the way his eyes lowered at that statement, Alexander noticing the change in expression. If he wasn’t so tired, he was sure the older man would have given a chuckle, “You have nothing to worry about. A lot of this is new for you, and she’s a rather special case. Just give her some time, she’ll grow on you.”

D-Doub-bt it-t.

“Anyways, the reason I called for you is because something has come up.”

“D-Did y-you-ur w-wif-fe see me a-ag-gain?”

“Not this time.” No? Then why him? Was this some kind of medical emergency? He could hear the shuffling sound of more papers, a few laid out in front of him, as if he were looking over some kind of list. He looked up to the surgeon soon after, “I have a mission that I would like for you to go on.”

“Me? A-Are y-yo-ou s-sur-re?”

“I know it’s outside of your job requirements, but you were asked for specifically.” Asked for? What? Who would want him to come along for anything? Was this something that would need someone of his medical skills? The questions wouldn’t stop coming every time the older man spoke. He couldn’t seem to comprehend why anyone would want him. He didn’t even know anybody, as he had purposefully isolated himself.

He couldn’t keep silent, “W-Who a-ask-ked for m-me?”

“I did.”

Both men turned their heads to the leftmost chair sitting in front of the desk. A familiar figure stood up from where it was sitting, moving so that Malceum could see. Her.

Salena Kingston.

Why?

She was dressed, not in a gown like he had seen when they were in her medical room. This time, she wore something that he could only describe as something out of a fantasy book. He could tell the material was made of leather, sticking tightly against her skin? Fur? She was far too complicated for him to make coherent thoughts.

Salena moved her arm against the top of the chair, leaning against it slightly. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed compared to when they were in the medical wing. Did she hate it there? He couldn’t blame her, especially with how many times she seemed to wind up there. Her gaze was fixated on him, causing a small shiver to move down his spine, “I am going out hunting. I wanted to see if you would like to come along.”

“H-Hun-nt-ting?”

“I do it every now and then. Sometimes they are prompted by Alexander, but that is not the case. I thought you might like to get out of the estate for a bit.”

Yes.. but why him? He just couldn’t understand it.

He did. Clever little mutt. She knew there was something wrong with his host. This was an attempt to draw him out. That had to be the only reason. He wouldn’t allow it. The headache seemed to grow worse at that moment, a voice in the back of Malceum’s mind being the only thing that kept him from moving his hands to cradle his head, “Don’t you dare. It’s a trick. I will not have you expose me more than you already have. You’re going to go right back to your room, unless you want me to make you suffer more.”

“I-I d-don’t-t th-hin-nk I wo-oul-ld be th-he b-bes-st ch-hoic-ce for s-som-meth-hing-g l-lik-ke t-this-s.”

“I’d be willing to make a deal with you, Sorrowgrave. All I ask is that you come on this one hunt with me. I know Alexander pays you, as he does everyone else. I can pool part of your earnings to the same place my money goes. I can have small shipments of dreamless sleep potions sent to you with this. You wouldn’t have to rely on me if you want them.”

This bitch. She knows what he wants, and he truly does want this relief. He can’t even remember the last time he slept without having a nightmare. He knew either way he was going to suffer. The hollow wouldn’t ever stop until he agreed to surrender his being. The only way he would continue on was getting any small mercy that he could.

“A-Alr-righ-ht.”

Both Salena and Alexander gave a nod, the older man turning his attention to the wolf, “Do you have a place you’ll be going?”

“Yes.” Strange that she mentioned no specifics. Was it not necessary to tell her employer where she was taking them? Guess not giving the accepting nod from Alexander. She moved past him, one hand moving up. It was that same magic she had used before, bigger this time. The opening was large enough for the two of them to move through it. Her head turned enough to catch him in view, “Follow me. This portal is going to put a strain on your body, but you’ll be fine shortly after we arrive on the other side.”

He nods.

She takes the first step through, followed by him. He could feel the strain she was talking about. When he stepped out, it took everything in him not to buckle down under the weight. When his vision refocused, he could see Salena not too far ahead of him. She didn’t have the same strength he did, find her form against the earth. It looked almost as if the very air around her was pushing her down. He should have guessed that if this magic put a strain on the body, then of course she would have it worse than him. But then why travel by these portals in the first place? What was the point?

While she recovered, his eyes moved around the land. He didn’t travel much, but where they came to looked like no place he’d ever seen before. The grass under them looked washed out, bits of dirt poking through in patches. There were trees, though few given it seemed they were along hills. Even this seemed like it was devoid of life. Near death was a good way to describe it.

Finally he could hear Salena getting up onto her feet. She dropped the portal they had come through, pushing towards the top of the hill. It would be best for him to follow her. Her eyes peered over the top, looking down at the base of their hiding place. He could see a stone tower in the distance, small patrols and camps around it. Both men and women were patrolling. Their clothing was rather strange. It was a mixture of white and red. They looked like how crusaders would have been dressed in human history.

Surely they hadn’t gone back in time somehow.

Malceum had barely noticed that Salena had begun sneaking ahead without him. Wait, what was she doing? Why were they here? Why did it look like she was stalking them?

Wait…

Wait!

He only just seemed to notice the sheen of a blade resting at her side. No, not just one blade, two of them. One of her hands was gripping on. Her eyes narrowed creeping closer. He wanted to yell at her, call her back and demand to know what she was planning to do. There was nothing he could do as red bagan to cloud his vision. Blood spilled from the crusaders, her blade, claws, or even her teeth finding ways to ravage them. This wasn’t hunting, it was slaughter.

OH? Seems she’s a murderer just like you are. I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you should go down there and join her.

No. He couldn’t do this. He could say that this time. He wouldn’t risk drawing himself to the surface with her around. He had to do something other than let her continue.

She had been careful up to this point, picking them off one by one. Blood stained her mouth and clothes. She could see him moving down the hill, not paying too much attention to his surroundings. Eyes narrowed as she noticed a scarlet moving behind him. He must have been spotted. Deal with the threat themselves rather than raise the alarm. He watched as she stomped her foot down, but nothing seemed to happen.

Then a gurgling noise rang out behind him. He turned around to see the crusader… impaled on a spike of thick ice, blood dripping down onto him. His body was shaking again, that feeling of a thrill he was missing out on wracking around in his brain. She moved over to him, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t pay attention. He could see that she looked to the side, voices crying out.

They were calling out one thing.

‘Death Knight.’

What did that mean? He wasn’t whatever that was.

He seemed to come back into focus, seeing that Salena had turned on the growing mass. Was she ready to take them all on by herself? Just how much blood was she willing to spill? Taking a tight grip of her wrist, he began to drag her away. She seemed to give him a surprised look, snarling as her lips turned up. He could see another string of magic leave from her hand, the other reaching for a loose part of his duster. She had taken him into her arms, fleeing to the hills.

They managed to lose their attackers, the trembling in his body stopping as they did. He hated that he could still smell iron in the air. Once she was sure the crusaders were gone, he was set down, a bloody corpse being tossed at his feet. Had her magic grabbed one of them? Just what the hell was she playing at? Just what kind of life had he actually landed in joining up with this lot?

He couldn’t stand it any longer.

“W-Wha-at t-the fuck wa-as th-hat?”

“I told you we were going hunting. You weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. You gave us away.”

“I-I m-mad-de it cle-ear I wa-as not-t t-the b-bes-st for th-his. Y-You j-jus-st mur-rde-ered t-them-m.”

“They deserve it.”

“W-Who a-are-e you to j-jud-dge t-the-em?”

“Someone who has first hand experience with them. I’m far from the first person who despises them.”

“T-Tha-at’s b-bes-side th-he p-poin-nt!” Why couldn’t she seem to get it through her thick skull?

“Then you would rather I kill someone that doesn’t deserve it?”

What?! Was she serious?

“K-Kil-ll no o-one!”

“I can’t do that.” She… She what?

“W-Wha-at are you t-talk-king a-abo-out? Y-Yes you c-can-n!”

He noticed her eyes narrow down again. There was that shiver again. How was it that both women he interacted with seemed to have eyes that bore down past his skin? He almost felt himself take a step back, “No. I can’t. If I stopped killing, I would drive myself insane.” Had she really killed that much? Was she so much like him that she got a thrill out of it? He hated this. He hated her. He hated that she bribed him into coming along on this.

“I don’t see why you are making a fuss with me. I thought you would need something like this.”

Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes back at her. It didn’t seem to have the same effect that her’s did on him, “Y-You d-don-n’t kn-now me.”

“You’re right Sorrowgrave, I don’t. However, it’s part of my job to keep tabs on the new recruits, and that includes you. You have little ticks. You obviously don’t get enough sleep, someone with a stutter is not too worrisome, but you’re constantly twitching. I know you’re not nervous, otherwise you wouldn’t have stood up to me like you did. You’re acting more like an addict that hasn’t had his fix in a long time.”

“H-How-w w-woul-ld y-you kn-now?”

“Because I was just like you, Sorrowgrave. You will drive yourself crazy if you continue on like this.”

He wasn’t sure if it was humor in a fighter trying to give medical advice to a surgeon, or her lack of logic that made him relax slightly, “Y-You-u’re s-supp-pose-ed to d-dis-scour-rage ad-ddic-cts f-fro-om th-heir-r v-vic-ces.”

“My own vice, unnatural as it is, can not be fixed. I have to hunt. I’m sorry you don’t see it the same way. I thought feeding your’s would be a temporary fix until I could figure out a better solution.”

“W-Why-y do you c-car-re?”

“Everyone can see that something is wrong with you. No one knows to what extent, but they can see the signs.” He could feel her hands reaching for the mask he wore across his mouth. His hands shot up, covering her own to keep her from removing it. She almost seemed to be smirking as he did this, “You see? I stand a good chance of helping you, all you have to do is let me.”

“Y-You w-won-n’t let-t me do th-he s-sam-me.”

“You did help me though. Your stitching is far better than my own, and I have no doubt you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’m one of Alexander’s best for a reason, but that means a greater risk. I’ll need someone like you.”

He hated this. He just wanted to go back to the estate. He wasn’t supposed to bond with anyone. They were a weakness, or even a target. The hollow made it clear he already had an interest in her, and this was certainly not helping. If he had control of his host, Malceum had no doubt he would be jittering with joy.

Was it worth trusting her though?

No one had ever shown him this sort of backwards kindness. She offered him mercy, and now here he was in her position, spitting it back in her face. Why?

Why did it have to be like this?

In his mental crisis, he had barely noticed that Salena was trying to remove his mask again. He honestly wasn’t sure why he felt his hands go lax, allowing her to do so. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on first glance, but a spike in his headache made his lips curl up. Nothing but sharp teeth, just like her own. Her hands moved up again, forcing his mouth open. It was almost as if she could tell this was unnatural.

There was nothing special about him. He was as human as they come. Someone else had forced him to do this to himself.

And he didn’t take kindly to the impromptu investigation of his host. The pain in his head grew worse. It was as if the hollow was unwinding himself in his host’s mind, sticking thousands of wires through his brain. Mouth shut down along the beast’s arm, head pulling back to tear at the flesh.

Her head moved down, staring at him. There was that flicker she had seen before. Her arm raised in his grip, not allowing the shade or hair to block her view, “Caught you.”

Shit.

Why was she so still? Why wasn’t she bothered? He was a freak. He was trying to peel her own flesh away from her body. Why wasn’t she trying to stop him? Why didn’t she kill him like she was doing just a few moments ago? Why couldn’t he just let go? Let me go!

And he listened. Teeth removed themselves, his form staggering away from her. All she was trying to do was help him, and he had bitten her. She stepped closer to him, her hands moving to grip his arms. She lowered themselves down to the grass. He could hear her speaking, but couldn’t bring his eyes up to meet her own, “Sorrowgrave, let me help you. Feed the demon as it were, and let’s go back.”

She knew about him, but not what he was. How was it that she was on point? His eyes moved over to the body she dragged along with them. That trembling came back, and his stomach suddenly felt so empty. He scooted closer to the body, teeth sinking in. He could feel a hand moving along his back as he ate, hating himself every moment that passed.

Another portal opened, the familiar halls of the estate greeting them.

Again she fell to the floor, but this time he moved over to help her up.

Their bloody hands met one another.

They seemed to be standing in front of a door, one he had seen briefly in passing. He could see the halls leading to the medical wing from where they were standing. Wait… why were they here instead of heading to his room? He found his gaze up at her, a small portal at her side. Like before, she reached in, pulling out a familiar green vial. No. Don’t.

He will just break it again.

“I promised you I would get you a steady shipment of these, and I plan to keep that deal. You came with me. Start with this one for now.”

He reached out to take it from her, knowing what the outcome would be. If he didn’t try to take it, he would take over and do it for him. As his hand drew closer, she took a firm grip of his wrist. What the hell was she doing now? Her mouth lowered to the top of the vial, popping the opening with her teeth. The hand gripping his wrist moved up, forcing his mouth open again, the other hand pouring the liquid down his throat.

She knew. She knew what he would do, and acted accordingly. If he wasn’t suddenly feeling so tired, he would have thanked her.

He could vaguely feel her taking him into his arms. She adjusted him so she could open the door they were standing near. It was a furnished room, one that he couldn’t see very well with the darkness of night. One thing he could make out was a bed, one that he was being lowered into. This wasn’t his bed… so where were they? He would have to ask her when he woke. His mind began to fade, growing blank for the first time in years.

She watched him drift, finding her hand moving through his gray hairs before turning to leave. He’s had it rough, so sleeping in her bed would probably do him some good rather than the sub quality of the ones the medical personnel use. She quietly shut the door behind her, moving down the hall to a very familiar room.

The new door swung open, Alexander still sitting at his desk. Shutting the door behind her, she took a seat in front of him, “We have much to discuss.”

#my writing #tw; blood #tw; violence #tw; death #tw; bodies/corpses #tw; cannibalism #novembria #malceum #the good doctor #alastair #salena #the terrible trio

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talesofnovembria · 2 years

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17 for the memory ask

Send A Number to Experience One of My Muse’s Memories

17. A memory of something they regret

You’re not entirely sure what to make of the place you find yourself. It’s a hallway, yes, but one that seems to be made of metal… or some kind of other material that’s not easily breakable. You look closer at the walls, and see there are doors there, no knobs along any of them. It looks like there are keypads next to each door, though you know none of the codes required to open them. Each door has a small, rectangular window near the top. The rooms are numbered down the line.

What kind of place was this?

A loud bang interrupts your thoughts, making your head turn. It came from one of the nearby rooms, though what made that noise, you are unsure. It is enough for you to notice there are two figures coming down the hallway, both walking past you. You recognize Salena as one of them, but not the man following along at her side. He looks much older, with his gray hair, but something tells you Salena wouldn’t be as close to him if that was the case. He’s got multiple scars along his face and neck, the only parts of his skin that seem to be exposed aside from his hands. He’s wearing a brown duster.

You happen to catch something about Salena as you move to catch up with her. The silver ring she is normally wearing on her finger seems to be missing. You look at her face and have to pause. There’s something off about it, but you can’t seem to pick out what it is.

A sigh echoes in the air as she moves closer to one of the rooms near the back of the hallway, “Thank you again for helping me with this. You didn’t have to help me with the room itself, just be here in case anything happens.”

“I l-lik-ke s-spe-e-end-din-ng t-t-tim-me wi-ith-h y-you.”

“I appreciate that. Most don’t want to.”

You can’t help but pick out a subtle undertone of sadness in her words.

“T-Then-n th-hey are m-m-miss-sin-ng o-out.”

Salena doesn’t say anything, her hand moving up to enter the numbered code for the door. You watch as it swings open, following both of them in before it shuts behind them. You look around the room. The inside seems to be made of the same material as the outside wall, though that shouldn’t be too much of a surprise. You see a bare bed in the corner with a nightstand. There’s little else in the room save for some restraints. This room looked like it would fit well within the walls of a prison.

You didn’t seem to notice Salena was making the bed, the man helping her at the other end. Were they preparing for this room to be occupied by someone? That seemed to make sense. At least this ‘cell’ would have some kind of comfort to it.

“Thank you for the help, Malceum.”

You see her moving to the nightstand, taking a look inside the drawers. The man, Malceum, offers her a smile, “I-It’s-s no t-t-troub-bl-le. D-Do you do t-th-his-s o-of-ften-n?”

“Sometimes.” She raises her hands to make quotation marks with her fingers, “‘Perks’ to being one of his best. I get to handle transport and containment of the many dangerous things Alexander likes to keep down here.”

“S-Soun-nds-s l-lik-ke a h-has-s-ssle.”

“It is, but thankfully I have someone like you to make sure nothing too bad happens to me. I imagine you’ll be seeing more of this place.”

“Y-Yea-ah?”

You notice there’s a beat of silence before Salena speaks again, “Yes, especially if I am here more often.”

“I s-s-supp-pos-se t-th-hat-t mak-kes-s s-sen-ns-se.”

You glance over at Salena, seeing her pull something out from the nightstand. It looked like some kind of round object, almost like a collar of some kind. You can see her hands trembling ever so slightly. As you move closer to her, you can hear her muttering something under her breath, but you don’t know what it is. It’s like she said it in a language you’ve never heard of.

You reel back as she lunges at Malceum, pinning him down to the ground. She takes the collar, locking it to his neck before shoving him back to the wall. She dashes for the door, slamming her fist along the wall to shut it before he can escape. You watch as confusion floods the man’s face, but it doesn’t last long. Tears flow from his eyes as rage takes its place. He pushes himself up, racing for the door… you know he’s not going to break through it…

His fists bang against the metal as he screams, “You damned worthless mutt! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!” You blink as the thick stutter he had seemed to disappear in an instant.

You look up to see the top of Salena’s head leave the sight of the window. Your eyes narrow as you turn back to the man. He’s banging his fists so hard blood has started to break through, “You lied to me! Used me like everyone else!”

You move towards the door, finding you are able to phase through it. When you do, you find Salena hasn’t actually gone far. She moved out of view from the door’s window, but collapsed along the wall, having slid down to the floor. You see deep red soaking into her clothing.

“I trusted you! You betrayed the last bit of myself I could give to anyone!”

You watch in horror as she takes her hand, thickly coated in blood as she drags it across her arm. Her head is turned down, so you can’t see the expression on her face. From what you can see, her ears are hanging against her cheeks, tail curled between her legs.

The banging grows louder, more violent, “Just kill me already!”

Both sets of claws attack her body, blood flowing down from her open wounds. The clothes she wore were stained an awful color.

“You're just like every other Zealot! Like every other so-called Mortal to ever exist! You fear what you do not understand!”

You tilt your head at that. Zealot? Why was that so important to call out? You turn your gaze back to Salena, her claws seeming to dig as deep as she could manage across the right side of her chest. If that had been on the other side of her… You lower yourself down towards the ground, and you finally are able to see her face. Guilt covers her entire being… and she too… has tears falling from her eyes.

You are certain it’s not the amount of wounds she’s giving herself that are causing those tears.

“I'm the innocent one here! You should be the one to be locked up!”

You haven’t been paying that much attention to Malceum’s screaming, keeping your eyes on the woman that keeps hurting herself. Now that he has drawn your attention again, you can hear the sickening sound of bone snapping from inside the room. That seems to cause Salena to make more deep cuts across her own flesh.

The sound of sobs fill your ears as the memory begins to fade out. As it turns to black, you can hear Salena repeating what she said in the room. Before the memory is lost to you, you finally hear it in a language you understand…

“I’m sorry…”

#bitch in armor: salena #balancing madness: malceum #meme reply #tw; blood #tw; self harm #tw; death mention #tw; broken bones #((OHHH BOY))#((You really had to ask for this one huh Dana?))#((Well out of the LONG list))#((You get this moment))#((It's extremely high on her regret list))#((A wonderful thank you to my husband))#((For Mal's angry screaming))

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viviskull · 3 years

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talesofnovembria replied to your post “Bites you bites you bites you BI...”

Malceum seems unbothered by the green arm biting at him, “S-So th-his-s is w-what-t c-const-tit-tut-tes as a d-dem-mon n-now a d-day-ys?”

???’s just hanging onto his arm like a bug, still scratching at him with his teeth fingers. Just give him some time to hang out there. He’ll tire himself out, eventually.

#text post #It's eggs {Crack}#FUCKER! {???}#talesofnovembria #Icon Cred: artsyfeathersartsyblog

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salenakingston · 3 years

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Decided to forgo the prompt thing this time around and write a little something that came to my head on my way home from work. Been writing a lot more backstory related stuff to the main trio, and I don’t intend to stop. It’s so fun to play around with.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Medical Procedures (minor), Blood

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,117 words

The halls of this estate seemed to just go on and on. Guess that was to be expected when being invited to a place like this. The Whitegale name was one that stretched far beyond the reaches of Sweden, for a number of reasons. Alexander’s wealth and power was nothing to scoff at, but more than that, it was what he had chosen to do with it. He could very well be running his own country with the number of contacts he had, and the people that flocked to him on the promise of a good paycheck. The Whitegales never seemed to be short of work.

And that’s why he was here.

News articles continued to pile up on top of one another, the gap between his own kills becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed that since discovering his project had been a failure, he was not allowed much room to breathe. The demon had put up with him before then, no doubt already knowing the outcome before even his host had learned the price of dealing with those that were already dead.

Magic was real, but even in this new world, there were laws that had to be obeyed. No one could come back from the dead without being broken. Pleas and cries haunted the mind, be it in the waking world or when asleep.

He couldn’t stay at his office anymore, not without risking getting caught. His brain argued with him that he deserved to be taken in. He had lost count of how many lives he had stolen away, be it from those that deserved death or not. He did not care so long as he could get a laugh out of it. He would take.. And take.. And take until there was nothing left of who he once was. Life was slipping away from his fingers.

Sometimes he even wondered what the point of fighting was anymore.

Malceum had found himself on the steps of the estate, mostly by chance. Forced to flee his home country. It was quite the jump to make, Germany to Sweden. Anywhere else might have been a better idea, a place where he might be able to isolate himself so that he couldn’t thrive off the thrill of others… but there was one thing that drew him in to the promise the Whitegales proposed.

Stability.

A roof over his head.

A job.

He could be left wandering country to country without the promise of being able to see anyone. No one owed him anything, and he couldn’t very well work and move at the same time. He needed a new place to call his own. While the estate itself didn’t belong to him, since Alexander had taken him in, he was granted his own space along with the other medical personnel in the building. He had work, or at the very least, something to keep him occupied. On the plus side, with so many people around, he couldn’t just do as he pleased. Someone would notice if one of the staff went missing, or if he had slipped out of the building.

It was a bit of a win win actually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the hollow’s witty commentary silenced.

Alexander had called upon him specifically for a task. Guess the man himself had been impressed by the surgeon’s work. At least that’s what he assumed before stepping inside the office. It was for a stranger reason that he had been chosen. Alexander’s wife had seen him in a vision. Said woman was quite the enigma. Seeing her was rare outside of briefings and events. He had gazed into her unseeing eyes, and could swear that she was somehow still staring back at him. It was enough to unsettle anyone.

He didn’t believe her vision, at least when it seemed like it was something so minor. It was just another surgical job. What did it matter if he was the one who did it, or someone else. Alexander had explained that he never questioned anything his wife had seen, nor was surprised at Malceum’s skeptic tone.

Well… whatever. He had a job to do.

Returning him back to his path through the halls. He had finally managed to figure out where he was going, though it probably helped that he dropped the files he had been flipping through from his eyesight. Anything already on a person’s medical record could help him to understand his patient’s body. Their strengths and weaknesses, at least on a physical level, and what kind of treatments one had already undergone. Which worked, and which ones did not.

But this file just left him dumbfounded.

It was for someone by the name ‘Salena Kingston.’ The first thing that struck him as odd was the inclusion of a ‘species’ tag on her records. Species? It labeled her a wolf, but this had to be some kind of mistake. True, magic was a possibility, but this just seemed too much of a stretch as to what could be considered real now. Humans seeing the future? Believable at the very least. Humans channeling enough energy to bring the souls of others back from the dead? He had seen it first hand. Humanized animals? Unheard of.

Brushing past this mistake, he got into the meat of her records. It baffled him that the list of problems with her physical attributes grew longer and longer with each person that had seen her, yet they had all cleared her to return to duty. Were all of them so negligent with their jobs, doing this on purpose so they could make another sum of money from their wealthy employer? Or was this Alexander’s own doing? It was clear he had contact with everyone on his medical team. Surely he wouldn’t be worse than the doctors.

Well, he wasn’t going to be like them.

Malceum stopped as he came to the medical wing. He knew the path here, but not to this specific room. It seemed strange to be directed to one room, as many others he had taken care of were spread through to whichever space was available. This was ‘her room.’ Just how often was this person here to have a room all of her own?

The surgeon steeled himself, and then opened the door. Strange that this door requires a pin number to open, sliding rather than opening like any normal door.

A pair of blue eyes peered over at him.

The door shut behind him, effectively locking him in the room with a literal beast. So that species part of her documents hadn’t been a typo after all. There, sitting in the bed, was a wolf with a humanized figure. He couldn’t find one thing to focus on, his eyes moving all around her. Her red face markings, visible scars across the top of her muzzle and neck, the curved notches in her ears, the traces of bags under her eyes, but mostly that piercing gaze that fell on him.

A gaze that seemed to be narrowing the longer he stood still. He even found his hands shaking slightly. No, it wasn’t fear that was causing this. He seemed delighted by this turn of events.

“Hey.”

What? Oh that was her voice.

“Are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you actually going to do your job?”

Malceum was taken aback. Never in all his career could he recall a patient speaking to him in such a way. Annoyance replaced his surprised expression. Oh, he could tell he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of this one. He set her file down on the small table next to her bed. As he drew closer, he noticed the tubes sticking out of her nose, a tank on the opposite side from where he was standing. Oxygen? Was she having trouble breathing? There were so many problems on the list, it was likely his brain skipped over it, much like the fact of her ‘species.’

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes, st-top.”

His hands were shaking again. She’ll be fun to play with.

Y-You ca-an’t-t.

Oh I’ll find a way.

He gave an audible sigh, an eyebrow raised on the woman? Wolf? In bed. Right, he must look like a crazy person. She was glaring at him at this point, so he might as well match her attitude, “W-well M-Ms. Kin-ngs-ston, I can h-hones-stly s-say in all m-my l-lif-fe I’ve n-nev-ver se-e-een s-som-meo-one as b-brok-ken as y-you are a-and-d s-stil-ll w-wil-llin-ng to m-mout-th off t-the p-per-rson w-who’s-s b-been a-assig-gned to h-help you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Sorrowgrave. You’re hardly the first person to be assigned to me as you put it.”

She knew who he was? He hadn’t even been here that long, and he’d never seen her before. Did Alexander tell her about him before summoning him? He mentally shook off that train of thought, scoffing at her, “S-So I’ve s-see-en, a-and it s-seem-ms n-non-ne of t-them-m h-have b-bee-en t-treat-tin-ng you p-pr-rop-perly.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I k-know-w I c-can.”

“Doubtful.”

Now he was getting more than just annoyed. Were it not for the mask covering his mouth, he was sure his sharpened teeth would be flashing to accompany his growl, “Y-You d-doub-bt my s-sk-kills-s?”

Her tone didn’t change. From the moment she first started talking to him, it seemed she was intent on holding onto her level of sass, but content. Was it acceptance? It was too soon to tell. She didn’t shut up, “Oh no, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I’m just saying I doubt there’s anything you can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried, or improve upon. My body’s fucked.”

Und-der-rst-tatem-ment-t.

“T-Then-n c-care to ex-xp-plain to m-me w-why y-you’v-ve b-bee-en cl-lear-red e-ev-ver-ry s-sin-ngle t-tim-me y-you’ve b-bee-en h-her-re wh-hen ev-ven you are a-awa-are th-hat s-somet-th-hing is w-wron-ng w-with you?”

“Have you been paying attention? I told you there’s nothing that you can do to improve my condition. You’ll either clear me like the rest of them or I spend the rest of my life sitting in bed. Sounds far too dull.”

“Wh-hy are y-you h-her-re t-then?”

The bitch seemed to roll her eyes at that question, “Did Alexander not even bother to tell his new surgeon why he was being sent here? Just send him off with a file and expect him to wing it?”

Obviously she wasn’t pleased, but was that directed at him, or at her employer? She had to be working for the man if she was in her own private room, but also referred to the Whitegale man by his first name. How was it that she seemed more annoyed than he was having to put up with this? He glared over at the file, as if it had committed a crime by simply being in the room, “H-he s-said his w-wif-fe s-saw me h-her-re in a v-vis-sion.”

That was the thing that seemed to shut her up. Her attitude melted away, head moving up slightly from its slouched over position, “Cassandra saw you? I see.”

So she knew something about the man’s wife too. Just what was so special about this woman and what she could see? Why was it a driving force for so many decisions made around here? It was largely irrelevant for the present moment. He still had a job to do. He found his face easing slightly, “N-Now t-th-hen. W-What-t are y-you in f-for t-tod-day?”

“I need stitches. The staff have been able to do what they could for the wounds, but they won’t heal properly without that work, and Alexander won’t let me do the ones I can reach myself. I’ve been instructed not to move as much until someone got here to take care of the problem.”

She’s capable of doing her own stitch work? Perhaps their employer didn’t want her to do it, feeling more confident with a professional surgeon on staff. Guess his reputation from his home country had something to do with that.

There was a spot for Malceum to prepare for this small task, doing his best to get his hands to stop shaking before he got to work. When he turned back around, he noticed that she had placed her wrists above leather straps on each side of her bed. Restraints, yet she was so casual about their use. She was looking so expectantly at him, “I d-don’t-t s-see a n-nee-ed to hav-ve to u-use t-thos-se.”

“Look Sorrowgrave, I know you’re new here, but trust me on this one. Unless you want to risk my claws finding your skin or impaled on accident, you will strap me down.”

“Y-You c-can’t-t do wor-rse t-than-n wh-hat has al-lre-eady b-bee-en d-done to me.”

“What?”

What?

She didn’t seem to buy that, trying again, “Trust me on this one Sorrowgrave. You’re going to want me restrained. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise if I didn’t think there was any danger to this.” It baffled him in a way that she was willing to be tied down, for his own sake. She was aware of her own power, able to assume she had some from the way she phrased her words, and took her own measures to ensure the staff’s safety. Seeing no need to fight her further, he stepped over to her bed, tightening the straps as tight as he could around each wrist. Her eyes turned forward, waiting now.

He only stepped away to gather his materials before coming to her side, “I’ll n-nee-ed to re-em-move y-your g-gow-wn.”

“Go ahead.”

He had done this so many times before, so there was no need to be so hesitant. The gown was laid across the railing closest to him, his eyes focusing to the new bundle of white and red along her shoulder. So one wound there. He could see the same along her upper chest, another spot along her side, and one last one near her thigh. Whatever mission she must have been on didn’t include an instruction on being careful.

His hands moved around the bandages, removing them. Sure enough, the cuts were deep, jagged in some places. He couldn’t help but notice the ones along her upper chest were different. They were straighter, each one with more than one line next to them. They looked very similar to scars that already littered her upper body. Eyes narrowed, staring on them, and she must have caught onto him again, “As much as I would love for you to keep gawking over my body, do you mind getting on with it? I hate sitting still.”

A low growl passed through his lips, sitting back up so he was at a better angle to do his job. No point in entertaining her rebuke. The sooner he could get these stitches done, the sooner he could leave. A syringe moved towards her wrist, sticking her in a safe place. It shouldn’t take too long for her body to grow numb. While he waited, his eyes moved over the wounds. Whichever medical personnel came to see her before him did a good job cleaning them out. All of them were clear of any signs of infection. Good. He would have hated to do more work than necessary.

He was always careful with his work, testing to make sure the anesthesia was in effect before the needle even touched her skin. Salena barely moved during the entire procedure, making this far easier. Guess he was right that she actually didn’t need to worry about the restraints. He couldn’t help but manage a smug look behind his mask. Good thing she couldn’t see that.

Clean bandages were wrapped back where the dirty ones used to be, leaving the surgeon with nothing else to do aside from clean up. He took care of himself before returning to his patient’s side, freeing her wrists and offering the discarded gown back to her. She snatched it from him, draping it back over her form. Guess his work here was done, so he could leave.

Before he could input the pin to the door panel, he heard her voice again, “Wait.”

Wait? Why? He thought she would be thrilled to have him leave her space. She was rubbing one of her wrists when he turned his eyes back onto her. Her gaze moved to the side, “Thanks. Let me compensate you for your work. I know something you may appreciate more than whatever Alexander will pay you.”

Weird. What could she possibly offer someone like him. Eyes widened when a pocket of magic She stuck her arm inside of it, pulling out a vial. What had he just witnessed? Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it fascinated him. Just what was this woman capable of?

Eyes trailed down to the vial, the magic having disappeared, and this what was offered out to him. He took it in his hands, fingers rolling it back and forth as it rested along his palm. The vial contained some kind of green liquid. He was about to question her when she noticed his confusion, “It’s a dreamless sleep potion. I can see the dark bags under your eyes. If they’re anything like mine, I can guess partly why you’re not getting sleep at night. Figured it might help.”

“I-It’s a w-what-t?”

It’s a what?!

One was thrilled, and the other panicking. He couldn’t lose the only outlet he still had for the time being to break down his host. Malceum’s hand began to tremble, grip moving around the vial. Audible cracks from the glass rang in the small room. He tried to save this small act of mercy she had offered him, but he was stronger. The vial shattered, potion spilling between his fingers. Tiny tears pricked at his eyes, red mixing with green along his hand.

He turned around, punching in the code to allow himself to leave, racing down the hall once the door opened.

She didn’t miss the orange flickering in his gaze.

He could tell she was a danger. She had something that could help him, and he made them flee. He wanted to go back to her, beg her for another one, but it was useless. He was going to make him pay for this new found hope.

Salena’s eyes didn’t leave the man, even as he sprinted past the window looking into her room. There was something very wrong with him. Cassandra saw him being sent to her. There was some reason they were meant to meet. Her gaze shifted down to the puddle on the floor, green mixing with red. He wanted that.

Something else made him break it.

And she would find out what.

#my writing #tw; medical talk #tw; blood #novembria #malceum #The Good Doctor #alastair #salena #the terrible trio

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salenakingston · 3 years

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Decided to kick things off by doing a sample prompt to try and get my work out there. I asked my fiancé to pick a prompt and I rolled with it. Thanks my beloved. Any other prompts I get will follow this same format. Might as well get that out of the way. Any warnings will be placed at the top and in the tags.

Prompt: “it could be worse.”

“You aren’t the one bleeding.”

“Look, you are still alive. Stop whining.”

Warnings: Bodies/Corpses, Blood, Cannibalism, Violence, Death

Timeline of Events: Pre-Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 2,169 words

What was once believed to be impossible became a reality when a single switch had been flipped, the world around every living being changing forever. Living in a day and age where crime and punishment was seen in just black and white rather than a spectrum came with their own set of consequences.

A blazing fire.

Rotting flesh.

Screams.

Anger boiled out from one source, unable to be contained by the loss that had been suffered. Sickly green and the sheen of silver surrounded the space. It consumed anything that it touched, much like the same orange that enraged there once before. The smell was disgusting, but there was a certain amount of pleasure that came with it. It meant that the fires were winning. Wires tore, fire blazed, and blood painted the wood, stone, and earth beneath.

And then there was the continued screaming.

So much terror, but almost like it was music. At least that was how it started.

Then its luster began to fade.

The voices and ringing grew louder.

Louder.

LOUDER.

SCREAMING.

The sound of metal clinking against tile echoed through the room. A tool had been dropped from a shaking hand, a hand belonging to a tired looking man. Even though he wasn’t that old, nearly all of his hairs had turned white. A ratted duster covered most of his exposed body, the smell of iron hanging in the air around him. Bloody and bandaged fingers gripped at the side of a metal table, bile rising in his mouth as he leaned over. This was not the first time something like this had happened, though rarely was it when he was awake. He must have been trying a new tactic.

As if any of the other ones he had already tried weren’t bad enough.

“Stop!” The man’s voice rang out in the seemingly empty air. A chuckle echoed in the back of his mind, a pain spiking along the side of his head. Hands tightened around the grip of the table, sure that if he were to let go that he would crumble to the floor. He couldn’t make it seem like he had given in, even if it meant choosing the illogical option of the two placed in front of him. Standing in the face of pain seemed a much more bold display than falling and clinging to the spot where the pain emanated.

The chuckling didn’t stop, and soon shifted more into laughter. It had such a taunting tone to it, mocking the man for his current position. A voice pushed its way to the forefront of any of his thoughts, “Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t like taking a walk down memory lane?”

“I am w-wor-rking.” The man stuttered out. His once confident voice began to deteriorate when this demon invaded. He couldn’t hide how tiring it was to keep fighting back.

His eyes flashed for a moment, green flickering to orange, “Come on Malceum. You’ve been picking at these bodies for hours. Let’s go have some fun.”

“No. I-I’m so c-clos-se. I ca-an f-feel it.”

An entire lifetime’s worth of knowledge could have been, no.. had been, crammed into the man’s head since magic and the unknown became as real as anything else. The coined title of a ‘warlock’ held very little meaning when their powers couldn’t be seen by any passing person that he came across. Most information had been very hard to come by, but he had managed. Desperation drove him to pursue this knowledge by any means necessary, consequences be damned.

He was already suffering far worse than whatever sort of law enforcement might be able to do to him.

He couldn’t stop working. Sleep was an afterthought. Food was something only to be taken when absolutely necessary, unless he was forced to by his tormentor. He was always so careful, every cut precise, each test ran to the finest process. His surgeon skills were placed perfectly to obtain anything he needed, and there never seemed to be a shortage of bodies for him to use, whether that came from work, or by his own hands.

Even through the bandages he could feel his skin coated with blood. Sometimes he disgusted himself at the level of brutality he would do to a corpse, but it all faded when he remembered who he was doing all this for.

No, he couldn’t afford to stop working for a moment.

But he didn’t like that. He didn’t like getting ‘no’ for an answer.

Eyes flickered again, that familiar feeling of bile beginning to rise in his throat. His head pressed to the table, dry heaving above the pristine tile. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to hold onto himself before one of two outcomes were to take place. He would take over, or he would have to endure another punishment. It seemed that he was keen on the former of those two this time around.

Sickness was just a means of bending his plaything to his will.

After a valiant effort on his host’s part, the flames of his eyes finally faded, and in their place came those silted orange ones. How nice it was to be able to be the one in control again. Pushing himself back up, his arms stretched out, no longer feeling any sort of pain radiating, “Sorry my dear host, but you’ve been in here for far too long. Let’s go for a little evening stroll.”

Was it evening already? Just how much time had really passed since he had begun working? Everything just seemed to blur together for him.

They left the lab, tucked safely under his own office building. Being a private surgeon had its perks, especially when considering the country he lived in. Germany never did have a good reputation, but it with the people that lived here, or with other nations at large. The pay was alright, and good thing too when it came to getting more that was required for the project at hand. They turned around, making sure the door was locked out of habit, but mostly because he knew his host would panic otherwise.

They turned down the street, pulling the hood of his duster up. They had been sure to clear their hands before coming out here, but the same could not be said for the splatters of red staining brown along his chest. It didn’t seem to bother them anyways. They kept their head held high, not paying too much mind to the lights beaming down from lamps, or the glow that shined from the moon and stars above.

Well, now it was more a matter of finding some entertainment. That was the whole point of this anyways.

Orange eyes darted around the streets in front of him. Now then, what would be a perfect place? It’ll have to be somewhere secluded, or easy to access for such a thing. Maybe we should feast again. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

No…

A strong arm soon wrapped around their tiny torso, pulling him into a nearby alley. There wasn’t much of a point to fighting back, as this could be just the kind of entertainment that he was seeking. They were dragged further into the darkness, their eyes seeming to be the only thing that glowed against their surroundings. The tugging soon stopped, their body colliding into a brick wall. Well, wasn’t this just as cliché as it got? Right down to the number of bodies he managed to catch in the moonlight, their armed persons, and even some of them waving magic around as if it was supposed to be threatening.

Fools.

They should run.

But they won’t. You’re an easy target.

They brush themselves off, standing up properly before addressing the thugs, “What a shame you all must be to this supposed great country. Just living up to what the world thinks of us aren’t you?”

“This one’s sure got a mouth on him.” “Oh don’t worry, we’ll fix that.”

Typical, and stupid. They were the ones in danger.

Run!

They stepped forward, concern thrown out the window as they casually placed one hand on the closest thug, “Now listen here, I’m a very busy man. This has been fun, but I can guarantee this little interaction is going to be far too boring for me. Maybe I’ll be nice just this one time and let you all leave with your lives. How’s that sound?”

All of them seemed genuinely shocked, as if they had never had one of their victims act so bold before. But they knew how this was going to go. The group was going to swell their ego. They were not going to let this one man simply walk away. A pity that none of them ever learned. Oh well, guess he was going to have to take this. He would find a way to make this more thrilling.

They felt something insert itself inside them. More than one thing really. How dull. Their weapons tore along the broken man’s body, echoes of cries ringing in their head. Oh his poor, little toy. Laughter exploded from the man’s lips. There was hesitance around him, eyebrows raising, positions frozen. Their laughter didn’t seem to die down at all, and the longer it went on, the more wrong this all seemed to be.

Shines of silver began to shine from the man’s body, almost like tiny little threads were twirling around them. Without much warning, the threads, wires, took hold of their victims. The weapons fell from their body, clanging to the stone walkway of the alley. They stepped over towards one of their victims, an ear to ear grin stretching across their face, “Poor sods. I was willing to be nice, but you didn’t want to listen.”

Stop.

“You know, my host hasn’t had a good meal for a while. I would know, I am constantly watching him. Maybe it’s time we fixed that.”

Stop!

“Maybe I’ll even be much more generous and gift him some new test subjects for his little project. You all should be honored!”

STOP! They stepped close, the wires wrapping tightly around the victims’ bodies, specifically over their mouths. Couldn’t let anyone hear their screaming now could they? The last thing that thug saw was a row of sharp teeth, something no human should ever have. They sank into his flesh, ripping and tearing the skin before devouring the meat to their heart’s content.

He was disgusted.

He hated himself.

He never wanted a life like this. Why did he have to do this to him?

Wires dragged the new corpses back in the darkness, coming back to the door of a familiar office. It was unlocked, and then the man stepped back inside. His grin hadn’t faded, not even as he padded down the familiar steps to the lab, “That was actually quite fun, and look! Your stomach isn’t empty anymore. Aren’t I just so kind to you?”

Silence.

Once they came to the same surgical room, the bodies were tossed to one corner, as if they were nothing more than just trash. They stepped over to a mirror, arms lifting up to undo the duster. There were a few deep gashing along their chest, something only seemed to bother the one that had become nothing more than a voice. Their shoulders shrugged at the sight, “It could be worse.”

You’re not the one bleeding.

“Look, you’re still alive. Stop whining. As if I would let anything happen to my little pet. If you were dying, I’d be the first to know. You’re fine.”

No… he wasn’t. He hadn’t been for a long time.

But that’s why he was here in the first place, wasn’t he?

They guided their body over to the numerous medical supplies, hands coming together, “Come now, let’s get you patched up.”

The rest of the night dragged on, harsher than it needed to be with his form of healing. By the time Malceum had come back into the picture, his mind was more tired, and his body spent. He finally was able to make his way to bed, off to a sleep he knew would not be pleasant. When he woke up the next morning…? Was it morning? The sun was out, but time was broken to him. It didn’t really matter, not having anything scheduled for today.

A paper rested at his doorstep, a familiar news article about a brutal mauling in the city’s alleys staring him in the face. This was not the first time he had seen this, and was sure it would not be the last. Slipping into a cleaner duster, the man returned to the lab, iron smacking his senses. Right… his new subjects. Well… might as well use them since they were here.

Time to get to work?

A sigh, “T-Tim-me to get to w-work.”

#my writing #writing prompt #prompt answered #tw; bodies/corpses #tw; blood #tw; cannibalism #tw; violence #tw; death #novembria #malceum #The Good Doctor #alastair #please let me know if I missed any triggers #I think I got them all

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talesofnovembria · 2 years

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16. A memory that makes them angry

Send A Number to Experience One of My Muse’s Memories

Your gaze falls on your surroundings, surprised to see a large crowd of people before you. You look down to see you are on some kind of wooden stage. Night hangs in the sky, but the place you are is well lit. So many voices cloud your head, making it hard to focus on any one. One thing you do notice is there seems to be a pattern to many of those gathered in the crowd. A fair amount of them seem to have some kind of church garb to them, or at least the aesthetic of it.

The sound of rattling chains draws your attention behind you. You see two men in the same sort of garb pulling someone in chains to the center of the stage. As he steps into the light, you recognize him… or at least for the most part. It’s Malceum, but he’s much younger than he looked when you’ve seen him. There are no gray hairs on him, instead a deep black. None of the scars you could see are present either.

But he still seems to look just as tired.

They force him down, tying the chains down so he is sitting on his knees. His head is hung low, though he is tugging on his restraints. There’s huffing coming from his mouth, soon giving up on his struggle. Instead, you see him craning his head up, enough that you can see the green of his eyes.

You see an older man stepping in front of him, his garb making him seem to be a higher figure-head compared to the others you see. He raises his hands, quieting the raging crowd before him. His voice is booming over them, “My friends, we are gathered to bring justice. Two of our own have been tainted by the man before us. They must be cleansed. It saddens me greatly that it has come to this, but we can take no risks.”

Your attention is brought back to the front of the stage. You didn’t notice it before, but there are pyres set at the bottom of the stage, with enough of a distance from the stage that it wouldn’t run the risk of getting set on fire. There are two wooden poles in the center of them. There’s a sick feeling running through you, more so when you see a woman being brought out… and an infant…

There’s a renewed struggle coming from Malceum as you watch the two being tied to the poles, “Stop! Please! Let them go!”

Eyes are turned to him, but nothing is said, continuing with what they were doing.

“They’re innocent! Don’t do this to them!”

The woman’s eyes turn to the infant, fear filling her eyes.

“Please!!”

Tears are flowing from his eyes, the glow of fire nearing them.

“PLEASE! She’s your daughter! Your GRANDDAUGHTER! Spare them, please!”

Finally the man addressing the crowd turns to him. The tears are flowing from Malceum’s eyes, dripping onto the wood below him. He lowers himself down so he is at eye-level with Malceum, not breaking contact with them. He keeps a stoic expression on his face as he speaks to the prisoner before him, “It pains me greatly to know that I must do this to my own family. Perhaps you should have thought about that before you tainted them ‘warlock.’”

“Please, I’m begging you. Do whatever you wish with me, just spare them. They don’t deserve this.”

“You sealed their fate the moment you produced her.” He points to the infant, “You must now deal with the consequences of your actions, just as I must.” He stands up, turning around. The tears begin once more, nothing but pleas coming from Malceum, though they go unanswered.

You watch in horror as the man speaks again, the fires lower to the kindling under their feet. Even if you close your eyes, nothing can block out the screams that follow. The smell of burning flesh fills your nose, cries of agony coming from the three people, one of which shouldn’t even need to be heard. You’re not sure how long you are sitting there, listening to nothing but screaming.

Even after the two burning are brought to silence, Malceum’s screams continue.

You just want it to stop… but it feels like it takes forever before they finally stop. When you look at Malceum again, he looks broken… his body and head slumped forward. Even now the tears don’t stop, but there’s not a sound coming from him. The man ahead of him speaks up, “The tainted ones have been cleansed. May their souls find peace. Now it is time to deal with the ‘warlock’.” He approaches Malceum…

And then the man bursts into flames. The air around you is suffocating, the fire feeling like it could burn anything it touches, even what may be just in the air. You watch as the flames become a vile green color, spreading everywhere across the stage. The heat starts metaling the chains holding him back… and soon enough, the ‘tink’ you hear is an indication that he is free.

The screaming starts again, but it’s all those gathered this time. Your vision is covered in red, blood spilling as more char fills your senses. Bodies are quite literally torn apart, flames consuming others. Nothing seems to stop this man on his war path… and it’s not until every present body is lying dead at his feet that he finally stops…

You stare at the bodies before you, then look up at the man. His body is trembling as he moves over to the wooden poles. There’s more tears that pour as he pulls what remains of them down. The memory begins to fade… and before it fades to black, you see one more thing.

Slitted orange eyes on Malceum’s face.

#balancing madness: malceum #meme reply #tw; death #tw; blood #tw; body horror mention #tw; burning #tw; stake burning #tw; infant death #tw; bodies/corpses #tw; violence #((THIS IS A HEAVY ONE))#((PLEASE MIND THE TAGS))#((God damn))#((We know why Sal hates zealots))#((Now you can learn why her husband does))#((This moment has been a constant for Mal))#((I did Mal))#((Since I couldn't think of a good one for Sal))#((Enjoy >:3c))

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talesofnovembria · 2 years

Text

Silence filled the room, save for the ruffling of papers. Malceum had been working over some translations Alexander had given him, a stack of books next to him, a few open in front of him. He was thankful to have his lab not only soundproofed, but being the furthest away from any other person in the Estate. Last thing he needed was to be bothered by the guards, or anyone on their team. Granted the later was more tolerable, but still undesirable when there was work to be done.

So when the hum of magic began to sink into the air, his eyes narrowed. Couldn’t people just leave him alone to work?

That mood instantly changed when he saw the familiar gate open, his wife coming tumbling through. Gasps were echoing through the room, her head moving to the side, a small amount of bile escaping from her maw as her hands clung to her clothes. Eyes were wide, body trembling. The man, whom was once sitting down got up from his seat, moving to her side. One hand reached into his duster, a needle grabbed, and stuck into her.

She could feel the effects taking hold, helping to get her breathing back to normal. Another would be needed to dull out the pain, but she was usually good about getting stabilized... unless...

“Y-You’v-ve b-b-been-n d-do-oin-ng t-too m-m-muc-ch.”

Another small bit of bile was expelled as she coughed, curling in on herself, “M’fine... give me a moment...”

“W-Wh-hat d-did-d y-you do t-this-s t-t-time?”

Green eyes soon noted the burn along her arm, and the iced over finger. Now that he looked closer, she was clinging on in her hand, blood painting her clothes were it was resting. He didn’t wait for her to answer before grabbing her unburned arm, looking over the damage. The ends of the finger looked jagged, as if it was ripped off. There were other ‘holes’ in the finger, giving him an idea as to what happened to it.

He might have almost been impressed if he couldn’t do the same thing.

Malceum helped his wife to her feet, both of them making the walk across the entire Estate to get to her room in the medical wing. There was a look of disdain along Salena’s face, but both of them knew this would need to be dealt with at some point. She could rest and deal with, whatever it was she did later... and he could get back to his work. Alexander wasn’t always too lenient with him just because his wife tended to get into more trouble than most. He had medical staff for a reason.

But this was one thing only he was capable of assisting with.

Once they were in her room, a magic followed around his wife, the rare human face fading to leave behind the familiar wolf. She moved over to the bed, almost as if her body was in auto-pilot as she sat down, holding her arms out. She would request the straps be used, but her magic was required for one part...

Her head looked off to the side, cool tinging pricking at her arm as her husband took care of the burn first. The soft texture of the bandages welcoming. Now for the painful procedure...

Malceum moved to the other side of his wife, tools being places on the side table. She opened her hand, passing the appendage over to him. He took it, pointing his own finger to her neck, “C-Coll-lar-r of-f-ff.” Her ears pulled back, hands moving up removing the item from around her. There was a flicker of static around her form, a patchwork pelt left where her normal one once was. Her hand came back down, the other hovering above the laid down one...

After a deep breath, the ice faded from her finger, a steady stream of red starting again. Malceum brought the finger over, lining it up with the rest of her body. A green magic danced on her fingers, flesh starting to bind together. The man took his turn, surgical tools meticulously stitching muscles and realigning nerves to one another. Pain shot up her arm with each tiny movement. The area couldn’t be numbed to make sure her body would function normally as they worked. Teeth grit together, ears pinned back, and muscles tensing with each movement.

When it was finally over, she was huffing. Even though there was nothing going on with her hand anymore, the lingering stinging would not be leaving anything soon. Malceum splinted the finger, wrapping it up to make sure it didn’t move too much while the magic took effect. Her head lowered.

“Y-You c-can-n go b-b-bac-ck to y-your-r r-r-room. R-Res-st-t. I h-h-hav-ve w-wor-rk to do.”

There was a tiny nod, the man taking this as his leave.

Salena wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there before she got up and returned to her room. She grabbed the oxygen machine she kept in her room, setting it up with her nostrils before climbing into her own bed. She sat there for a long while, but was aware of someone slipping out of her shadow... doing nothing but staring at her. Her ears were pulling back again, “Go ahead and say it...”

“Say what dear?”

“I messed up. That you were right. That I would come home to regret what I did.”

“You said it, not me.”

Her head fell, hands gripping at the comforter. He sighed, ‘sitting’ down on her bed with her, “Why do you keep trying so hard?”

“You know exactly why...”

“Yes, so I’m aware. I mean more so why do you keep trying when the actions you take end up making more problems than they do solving them. Perhaps it would be best if you leave certain things to others who may do better.”

“I can’t...”

“Dear, you acted the same way to him as you did to your husband when you were dealing with me. You don’t make the best choices.”

“.........”

He stared at her, seeing the way her hands curled up more. Of course... he knew her... Didn’t matter what she did, she wasn’t going to stop trying, especially not when it hit so close to home. He moved over to her cabinet, grabbing one of her potions, laying it in front of her, then slipped back into her shadow. She just stared at it, pushing it aside before she laid down.

Maybe she deserved a nightmare...

#bitch in armor - salena #helpful? hollow - the good doctor #balancing madness - malceum #aftermath #((I was really excited to write this))#((A look into more with Sal and Mal))#((Fleshcrafting))#((What Sal really looks like))#((Concepts that will be fun to play with in the future))#((Hope you all enjoy))#((This is in relation to the thread with in-nightmares))#((Read that for context))#tw; blood #tw; slight body horror #tw; medical talk

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