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writehardwhumpharder · 3 years

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Story Prompt/Request

@whatwasmyprevioususername

So I don’t know what this is exactly or where it fits into the Carson series but here it is. Prompt: whumper takes whumpee while the caretaker watches, powerless to stop them.

Carson cursed himself under his breath for being so stupid. He’d walked directly into a trap and not for the first time either. Although it was the first time he’d been dumb enough to bring Danny with him. Lulled into a false sense of security by the midday sun, Carson saw no reason not to do a little of his own investigating on the case he was working on. There was a new magician in town attracting a lot of attention with his pattern of killing other magicians, typically the stronger ones associated with some of the gangs in the inner city.

He and Daniel went back to the crime scene where one of the first bodies had been found. The apartment had long since been cleaned up of blood and evidence but it was still locked to the public. Carson ignored the police tape as he ducked under it to walk inside. The apartment had an older style to it with archways between rooms and a fireplace in the corner adjacent to the door. First, he looked around for visible clues left behind before doing what he really came there to do which was inspect the place for traces of magic.

“Nice place, well, except for that giant bloodstain on the floor,” Daniel commented casually as he stepped around the stained patch of carpet. He had insisted on coming as ‘another set of eyes’ but Carson suspected he was there out of curiosity. “See anything interesting?”

Carson took a moment to open up his magic senses so he could see the energy around him. To his surprise, he saw very little magic of any kind. In one corner of the room, he spotted purple tendrils of magic swirling around where a struggle had taken place but it could only belong to the victim, not the killer. His mind spun with questions. The police had seen the magician in action and confirmed the killer was no normal civilian. That’s why Carson was puzzled as to how someone with such strong magic would be able to get rid of all traces of himself.

“It doesn’t make any sense-” Carson started talking but something stopped him in his tracks. Daniel looked up when he suddenly trailed off and knew from the look on Carson’s face it was serious. A strange presence stirred in the room, catching his attention immediately. The feeling was so overwhelming it seemed to suck all the air out of his lungs at once. The magic was thick and nauseatingly wrong to Carson’s senses. Some part of him knew it was magic but if it was, it was a kind he had never encountered before and hoped to never encounter again.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked.

“Shhh,” Carson stayed frozen in place, the hair on his arms sprang up with anticipation as he sensed another kind of presence, a physical one. The magician was close, and judging by the intensity of the magic, he knew there wasn’t time to run. Adrenaline flooded his veins and suddenly Carson was moving again. His eyes scanned the apartment, landing on a closet next to the bathroom. He opened the door and ushered Daniel inside. “Don’t make a sound, and whatever happens, don’t come out,” he told him.

Daniel’s brows pinched with worry and he opened his mouth to protest, “But what about you?”

“Promise me you’ll stay right here,” Carson commanded.

“But-”

“Promise!” He said, gritting his teeth, they didn’t have time to waste. With each passing second, Carson’s heart pounded faster and faster.

“I promise,” Daniel forced the words out. It hurt him more to say those words than he could ever describe but he knew he had no choice. As the closet door closed in front of him Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that Carson’s request sounded eerily like a dying wish.

Slowly backing up into the middle of the room Carson tried to prepare himself for anything. He didn’t know where the magician might attack from or what he would attack with. Summoning up as much energy as he could, Carson raised his arms in front of his chest defensively.

A moment later, the door to the apartment slowly creaked open and in stepped, plain as day, a man about six feet tall wearing a dark coat, obscuring most of his figure. The move was so obvious and carefree that it gave Carson chills. He almost acted as if Carson wasn’t even there. Anyone watching the scene would think the magician was just an average guy returning from work after a long day, he didn’t seem at all like someone looking for a fight. Now that he was fully in the room the overwhelming stench of his magic had Carson wanting to crawl right out of his skin. It made him feel weak and sick to his stomach as his energy met the magician’s. While Carson’s magic was dark in nature this mysterious form of magic just felt empty to him. As the other magician looked him over it gave Carson enough time to identify what he was feeling. It wasn’t just empty magic, it was more like anti-magic…

Without thinking, Carson tried to end the fight before it could even begin. He used his strongest move, one he only uses in emergencies. And it got him… absolutely nowhere. Reaching out with his magic, Carson aimed to grab the man’s very soul but when his magic came in contact with the man’s aura of anti-magic it recoiled.

“That won’t work,” the magician said. His voice was deep but clear and each word had the power to cut through Carson like a knife. The magician didn’t just block Carson’s magic, he killed it. The loss of energy sent Carson to his knees and suddenly it was a struggle just to breathe. His magic was a living part of him so he felt it with every fiber of his being when it started to die inside him. The moment he knew he wasn’t going to make it through the fight his eyes flickered to the closet desperately. So far the magician had yet to notice Daniel there. It gave Carson a shred of hope.

“Why are you doing this?” Carson croaked.

“It’s my job to get rid of people like you,” the man answered honestly. “Your magic may be able to sway life and death but it can’t even begin to control what is and isn’t.” He wasn’t just talking about destroying something, he was talking about wiping it from existence.

Carson knew now that if he had any chance of fighting the guy he’d have to do it the old-fashioned way. With what little strength he had, Carson lunged toward the kitchen hoping to find some kind of weapon to defend himself with. The magician wasn’t going to make it that easy though and he caught up with Carson effortlessly.

A boot collided with the back of his leg, sending him tumbling into the cupboard. Pain raced through Carson’s back as he stared up at the man helplessly. Did he plan to kill him right then and there? Was he going to take his magic away? Was the dark power of death really not enough to protect him? The man simply stood there, looking down at Carson curiously. It was clear he wasn’t in any kind of rush. Attempting to crawl away was futile and yet he found himself doing it anyway.

“Go ahead, keep fighting,” he smirked. Carson knew the man was just humoring him as he watched him struggle just to drag his body back towards the living room where the front door was still wide open. It was right there. If he could just make it to…

Ice. That’s what it felt like. The pain now radiating through his back was similar to the pain you feel from holding your hand in ice water for too long. It was present and powerful and yet Carson could tell he wasn’t fully registering what had just happened. Because there was no ice, what cut through his back just now was actually a knife, maybe 5 inches long. The more Carson tried to wrap his mind around it the more he felt himself slipping. The wound flared white-hot every time he breathed. This injury wouldn’t be enough to kill him, most likely the magician just did it to keep him from running away. As his movements slowed to a stop, Carson knew he had succeeded at just that. He couldn’t pick himself up off the floor, he couldn’t move, couldn’t scream for help. The only thing he could do was turn his head to the side facing the closet door. With one cheek pressed against the dirty beige carpet, he stared at that door for as long as he could keep his eyes open. Daniel had kept his promise and stayed perfectly silent. Carson was actually proud of him. Even though his vision was darkening at an alarming speed and the sound of nearby sirens blended in with the ringing in his ears, Carson could let go knowing Daniel would be safe.

----

Daniel held his hands tightly over his mouth, urging himself to stay quiet. He wanted to scream and cry and hit something but all he could do was stand there and watch. Every muscle in his body flexed tight as he struggled to stay still. Tears streamed from his eyes as it all unfolded in front of him. He had texted their location to the police but beyond that, there was nothing he could do to help. The powerlessness welling up in his chest soured with anger. Whether it was toward the magician or himself he didn’t know. All he knew was that each time he wanted to open the closet door and put himself in front of Carson, he remembered the promise he made.

The sound of sirens faded in as the police got closer to the apartment building, but Daniel knew it was already too late. Blood soaked through Carson’s coat where the knife had gone in and slowly dripped to form a puddle underneath him. He wasn’t healing, why the hell wasn’t he healing?!

With the police closing in, the magician had no choice but to run, and to Daniel’s horror, he made sure to take Carson with him.

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writehardwhumpharder · 3 years

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Carson drabble - A new low (unfinished)

Carson stared up at his ceiling for the third night in a row. He was really starting to hate the look of it. Carson turned over with a sigh to look out the window instead. The moon was bright that night, casting odd, dark shadows over already dark spaces.

"What am I doing?" He asked out loud to himself. No matter how long he laid there attempting to clear his head, he wasn't going to fall asleep. Not after what happened a few days ago at least. Carson was no stranger to nightmares, he usually had them a few nights a week, but that never stopped him from falling asleep before.

Even if he had stopped resurrecting living things when he was a kid, the memory would still haunt him. Death just isn't something you can forget. He'd stared into that black abyss, let the cold emptiness wash over him as he reached in to pull a soul back out. But this time, Death had pulled back. Carson always knew that there would be a limit to his powers, eventually the reaper wouldn't stand idly by while he messed with the scales of life and death. There was a natural, inevitable end to all life and Carson had found it the hard way.

It all started when a young woman died in a traffic accident on her way to work. Carson got to her a minute or so after the crash, while metal was still hot and smoke poured out from the ravaged engine. It was before the authorities got there, he was one of a small crowd beginning to form in the intersection. Seeing the young kid crying in the backseat, Carson didn't hesitate to grab her hand through the broken window and reach down for her fading soul. The world melted away around them and Carson focused solely on the energy in front of him. When he felt the lingering threads of life in the bottom of the black hole, he pulled, but a stronger force pulled back, and hard. Carson thought for a horrible second that it would take him too as he was swept up in Death's current. He struggled to separate himself from the woman’s soul which was being violently dragged deeper into that cold abyss. The message was clear. This was a soul Carson couldn’t take back. He was just a visitor here, given the privilege to retrieve souls from a power much stronger than himself. It was a privilege that could be taken away, and if that power wanted Carson, it would have him, plain and simple. Suddenly he was falling, sinking, fading, dying. Through either luck or mercy, at the last second, it let go. Pulling away like a receding tide, and then he was back on the street gasping for air. The world was so bright in comparison that he scrunched his eyes closed against the harsh light. Every fiber of his being trembled with fear and he clutched his chest protectively. A very young, very surprised paramedic stared down at him. She'd been reaching for the paddles to restart his heart when he jolted awake on his own.

"Sir, don't move, your heart just stopped for a moment. Can you tell me your name and how you were involved with the crash?" she asked.

"Oh shit... oh shit..." Carson mumbled to himself. He thought he'd only imagined dying and here this girl was telling him that those horrible moments he'd spent in the clutches of Death himself were real. He... he had to go home.

"Sir? Sir, can you-" she started again, reaching for his arm as he leapt up, still a bit dizzy on his feet. Carson didn't wait to let her finish. Once he was sure his heart could handle it he took off in a sprint down the street towards his apartment, his plans of going to the store completely abandoned.

When he got back he opened the door with magic, too desperate to get inside to mess around with the key. He slammed it behind him and paced back and forth a couple times before sinking into the sofa. Still trembling, Carson fought to regain control of his thoughts. Every time he thought about it he shivered all over again.

That was three days ago.

Carson managed to put the event out of his mind for periods of time during the day but each time he tried to fall asleep, he spent the night staring at his ceiling, blaring rock music most of the time to get his own brain to leave him alone. The whiskey helped with that too of course. Carson didn't make a habit of drinking often but every night since then he'd drink until drifting into a numb sleep, only to startle awake an hour or so later. When Carson saw Daniel yesterday he could tell he'd been giving him odd looks, but since he hadn't heard any of the usual screaming, he assumed Carson was sleeping just fine.

When morning finally rolled around the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. His tired sluggishness was replaced by an odd jittery feeling and the simple task of sitting up almost made him throw up. After a few long moments of just sitting on the edge of his bed Carson decided to make some coffee. It was around 7am which was much earlier than he'd usually wake up but lately, time was blurring together and he looked forward to the morning when he could give up on the futile act of trying to fall asleep. Of course starting the day with so little energy didn't give Carson much hope for it but he had to keep going, they had a case to solve. It was probably better if he just tired himself out, Carson reasoned, sleep couldn’t evade him forever. But deep down, Carson knew that he was scared to close his eyes, because every time he did, it felt like he was dying all over again.

By the time his coffee was done brewing Carson was lost in thought again, leaning against the counter, staring at nothing. The beep that the machine made when it was done startled him so much that he jumped back, blinking his eyes to look for the source of the annoyingly loud sound.

"Right... right, coffee..." he mumbled, pouring it into a mug, skipping the milk and sugar. Carson stumbled over to the couch, looking for a way to kill some time until the rest of the world woke up. Or at least until Daniel did. Carson briefly considered waking him up in some obnoxious fashion but ultimately decided against it. Danny had enough to deal with at the shop right now.

"I need more friends," he sighed, "I need more sleep."

He decided to check his messages while forcing some dry cereal down his throat. The thought of eating disgusted him but Carson knew he'd only feel worse later if he didn't. Riley had mentioned that Morris wanted him to come to the station that day, she was probably expecting him to come in at noon but seeing as Carson had nothing else to do he might as well get it over with now.

The headache forming behind his temples was steadily getting worse, but honestly, when wasn't it? He slipped his pain meds into his coat just in case and put on his darkest pair of sunglasses before going out. Carson learned back in college that with sleep deprivation his alertness tended to fluctuate. Part of the time he'd feel almost normal, awake, energized. Then a few minutes later he'd struggle to simply keep his eyes open. The walk to the station was a lot like that. He’d go a few blocks without having any problems, just breathing in the fresh morning air to keep his brain clear. Then suddenly fatigue would wash over him again and threaten to knock him over. Carson grabbed onto a light post and bent over, trying to catch his breath. He took a few deep breaths before straightening then kept going. All in all, he only had to stop and sit down four times on his way to the station, which Carson considered to be a major victory given how shitty he was feeling. Realistically he knew he couldn’t keep going like this, eventually his body would give up on him. And it was exactly Carson’s personality to push himself to that point with a sort of “do nothing and see what happens” approach. His mom wouldn’t be at all happy if she knew about that, Carson’s brain conjured up an image of the exact face she’d make and he burst out laughing, looking like a madman on the street. He wasn’t even sure what was so funny about it but with his brain being absolutely scrambled right now it didn’t really matter. Honestly, the lack of sleep wasn’t really his biggest problem. It was the constant anxiety that tore through him every time he thought about what happened when he tried to resurrect that woman. His nerves were shot and the caffeine he was using to compensate only added to the problem.

The police station came into view and Carson jogged the last few steps, just wanting to get inside. It was busy like usual but all the background noise stayed pleasantly in the background, too fuzzy to really bother him. The receptionist smiled at him as he walked in, he’d met her before a couple times.

“I’m here.” Carson said, stopping in front of her. His arms hung heavily at his sides.

“I see…” Janice trailed off, giving him an odd look as she took in his appearance, “I suppose you’re here to talk to Morris, you can head back to his office.” Her eyes lingered on him as he walked straight to the back corner of the station where Morris’s office was.

What she didn’t see was how hard Carson was trying to walk in a straight line, fighting to keep all his limbs in coordination. Hell, if he was at home right now he wouldn’t have even tried not to stagger into the wall, or maybe he’d have just crawled there. “Can’t fall down if you’re already on the floor”, Carson thought to himself, it was becoming one of the mottos he lived by. He walked past Riley’s desk where she was hard at work, filling in some forms. She noticed him and turned in her swivel chair.

“Hey, I’ll meet you in there in a minute,” she said. Carson looked at her like he understood none of what she had just said.

“I’m getting coffee.” He declared, heading to the break room. While Carson wasn’t really on the payroll, bagels and coffee were fair game, so he walked up to the machine and picked up the empty pot. Carson stared at it with a frown, not having planned on actually making the coffee himself. Wishing the pot would just magically refill itself, Carson racked his brain for some sort of instant coffee spell, he knew he had one. Just as he was about to start making a ritual circle in sugar, the door to the break room swung open and Riley was quick to whisk the pot away from him. He had this sort of vacant look today and she honestly didn’t trust him to use any kind of complex technology.

“Step aside, I’ll make it.” Carson did as he was told, watching patiently as she scooped some fresh grounds into the filter then filled the tank with water. The machine made some weird noises and started to drip hot, brown liquid into the bottom of the pitcher.

“Aren’t you going to take your sunglasses off?” She asked. Carson raised a hand to touch them as if he had forgotten they were there. Lowering them for a split second, Carson looked into the room, instantly being blinded by the bright fluorescent bulbs. Spots stained his vision for a few seconds before fading away.

“Nope.” He said, sounding certain.

“Whatever, here,” she held out a mug for him to take and didn’t miss the way his hands shook as he gripped the handle, “what’s wrong with you today?” Riley asked.

“Nothing, it’s,” the question was enough to send Carson’s mind back to that dark place again and a full-body shiver raced up his spine, “nothing.”

“Okayyyy,” Riley said sounding unconvinced but didn’t push the subject, “since you’re here we should head over to Morris’s office, he says he has important info. on the case and there’s some paperwork for you to fill out.”

Carson sighed deeply and walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing milk and sugar to add to his coffee. “Paperwork, my favorite,” his voice was so dull as he said it that Riley couldn’t even consider it sarcasm. Carson looked her in the eyes as he slipped the flask, which he’d been keeping within arms reach the last three days, out of his pocket, pouring an unknown amount of whiskey into his coffee. His head was already killing him and despite the energy coursing through his shaking body, Carson wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor right then and there. This concoction probably wouldn’t help with either of those things but he had a state of semi-consciousness to maintain if he was going to get through the day. The goal was to be awake enough to move around but numb enough to keep the waking nightmares away. He’d never truly forget what he saw, what he felt, but given some time Carson would shake the feeling. He just had to get through a few more days to get it out of his head.

“Wow okay, not even gonna ask what that’s about…” Riley gave him a look of concern, judgement, skepticism, and pity all in one. Carson didn’t like it one bit but you can’t walk around looking a right mess as he was without getting a few odd looks. He followed her out of the break room and sank down into Morris’s sofa happily once they were in his office. Riley sat in the desk chair opposite Morris, actively ignoring him in interest of actually getting some work done.

Carson felt his eyes starting to slip closed, and suddenly sitting down wasn’t a very viable option. If he stayed on the couch any longer he’d fall asleep then probably wake up screaming. Not wanting to risk a new level of embarrassment in front of these people, Carson reluctantly dragged himself out of the chair and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to try to get somewhat comfortable.

“You can sit down if you want to…” Morris said, not sure why Carson felt the need to suddenly stand up instead.

“Nah, I’m good.” Carson replied.

“Alright well let’s do the easy stuff first. I have two witness reports I need you to look over and sign. if there are any details I missed you can add them in in the spaces provided. Then I’ve also got a waiver for you. You don’t have to sign it but it would save me a lot of time. Every time you go and get yourself hurt on our watch it’s a whole mess of paperwork to get it sorted out. And knowing you…” Morris looked him over, not in a judgmental way necessarily, but Carson got what he was hinting at. It would be easier for everyone if he just waived their liability.

“Mmm yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Carson said tiredly, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Morris handed Riley the waiver first on a clipboard and she passed it along to Carson with a pen which took an unhealthy amount of fumbling for him to grab. Riley watched as his eyes quickly scanned over the paper. If he wasn’t doing that thing where he mouths the words to himself she would have thought he was going into REM sleep instead the way his eyes fluttered back and forth, only half open.

**************

Carson understood maybe a quarter of the document in front of him but he signed it at the bottom anyway. His signature looked more like a scribble than it did letters but it always kind of looked like that… Riley leaned over and took the clipboard back from him and set it down on Morris’s desk.

“Okay and I already wrote up the witness sta-,” he paused, “they were right here a second ago…” he fumbled around. “Miller.”

That’s all he needed to say for Riley to know he expected her to find the documents. They were partially hidden by a stack of files she brought with her.

“There are two of them to sign. Make sure to read them carefully and add in any missing details. We summarized all the main points to speed things up but you still need to fill in the blanks.”

Carson accepted the clipboard again and risked sitting back down on the couch. This was going to be a bit more difficult than he thought. Okay here it goes… Carson squinted at the page.

“On August 18th, 2019…” He started. The rest of the words kind of blended together, “witness went to the location: Central Ave in Bushwick, Brookyn, New York…”

“You really don’t have to read it out loud. We know what it says,” Riley told him.

Shit that was out loud? He must really be losing it not to notice that. “Oh, okay, I’ll just read it then…” He reached for his mug instinctively and let it warm up his hand. Taking a sip, Carson forgot that it was equal parts coffee, whiskey, and sugar. He glanced into the dark liquid for a little longer than he intended to.

“I don’t think this is working,” Riley said. “Maybe it would help if I read it to you…”

She gently took the clipboard and mug out of his hands, setting the mug down on Morris’s desk out of his reach. “Okay, On August 18th, 2019 the witness went to the location Central Ave. The incident was described as follows by the witness: At approximately 10:30pm he came across a group of seven people all suspected to be magic-users. The suspects used…”

Eventually they got through the first statement and Carson even managed to recall a few more details to add in. He signed it and waited for her to move on the next one. Riley again acted as reader and transcriber.

“On August-“ Riley started to read.

“Um, wait a moment,” Morris interrupted her and pointed to Carson. “I think he fell asleep.”

“I guess we need to wake him up before we continue, right?” It was a genuine question from trainee to supervisor.

“Yes you need the person to be conscious for the interview,” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t bother though. I want to get through a few of these files then we can get back to it.”

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