Thread: Promises [Kadrin]

i z a said It was dark, and the air was stale and dank, making it hard to breath. Her small cage was rank with the scent of human waste and rotting food. The young woman sitting in the filthy straw was small and pale, with a slender waist and long, graceful limbs. Her flesh was as filthy as the torn and tattered shirt her captors had given her when they stripped her of her fine silk gown. She was an animal now, they had told her, fit for nothing but their customer's entertainment. She had found early on that the more she screamed and struggled, the more the crowd cheered as she was punished. They loved her for her energy and her hatred of them. She was ushered out onto a stage and given to the highest bidder to be put on a leash and tormented by her 'owner' only to be given back to her captors at the end of the day. She huddled now in her cage, the rest of this mock human menagerie slept peacefully. The other 'animals' had long ago been broken and went willing to their fate. Her hatred for this place was like a blanket, it boiled through her veins like hot magma, keeping her warm on even the coldest nights.This hadn't always been her life. Once she was a part of royalty. She had dressed in silks and lace and lived in a marvelous mansion. Oh how the mighty have fallen. She and her family had been next in line for the throne, not that she had cared for such things, but it had cost her parent's their lives, and she her freedom. It had all but lost hope when, like a beacon from God, he had come for her. Only, what he offered, was not the salvation she had been hoping for... He had promised her freedom and revenge with a voice like black velvet and eyes like cold rubies. He only wanted one thing in exchange. Her soul? Her life? He could have it all if he killed the bastards who did this to her and her parents. And so the pact had been made and she had signed it in the blood of her captors and her own. A searing pain in her right eye where his mark would be forever bound them together. As she stood in a crimson river of her foes' blood, his voice sang out to her in the darkness. Esther opened her gray eyes slowly. Sunlight spilled in through the window, casting her bedchamber in a merry yellow glow. The young Duchess of York sat up in her bed, staring dully out the window at the beautiful blue sky beyond. She had slept in again. It had been a whole month since the pact had been made. In that time, she had presented herself before the Queen and had her title reinstated. She looked much healthier now. She had regained the weight lost while in captivity. Her bruises and welts had healed. The only sign of her time underground was that her eye was a considerable shade lighter than the other, almost a milky white. Within it, the symbol of that man... She wore her long, dark red hair over that eye so that non could see with behind the thick locks. Unlike most of the irish red-heads, who's hair was actually more of an orange, her hair was a deep red, like rubies that had been spun into hair. She was lost in remembering her dream. She had promised a man that she would bear his child if he helped her seek revenge on the people responsible for her parent's deaths. Little had she know that she had made a deal with the devil Himself. The young woman sighed and touched her right eye gently. She was bound to him now. Now and forever. listulistu Click to expand... Kadrin said Did you ring, Madame? A sleek voice came from the doorway, where Haures - as he called himself - stood, silhouetted like shadow itself. He had quite taken to this role as butler, rarely slipping out of character to speak to her as they truly were... the supernatural being, the woman whose contract he owned. Instead, he ran her household just as a genuine majordomo would do, he brought her meals, he cleaned and tidied, he laid out her dresses for her, and the whole place was always sparkling, every morning. He had come to her door every morning since they had arrived here, always a bare few instants after she woke up, in a perfect and impeccable style. Today was no different. He laid a silver salver on her bedside table, set with toast, a pot of jam, a pot of steaming tea... it was all quite domestic, and naturally flawless. I shall lay out your clothes while you eat, Madame, Haures said, taking three steps back before turning around. When he spoke next, looking through frilly petticoats and other underclothes in her wardrobe, it was in a much different tone. Do we expect visitors today? Click to expand... i z a said She didn't even blink when he entered her chamber. She was used to him knowing the moment she awoke. He never failed. A minute after she woke, he was there with her breakfast tray and perfectly cheery. The entire household had not the slightest clue who, or what rather, he really was. They all believed that he was simply the household help. No questions asked. You know I never ring, she said curtly, taking a bite of her toast. She ignored the jam, like always. Her time in that human menagerie had made her grow accustomed to plain foods. Sweets made her feel ill now. She couldn't tolerate them. The memory of her dream galled her, and she pushed aside the tray, her appetite gone. She pushed the heavy goosedown comforter off her and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Her nightgown was made of a thin black silk. Esther had taken to wearing black since her return to the public eye. She had heard whispers that the people thought it was in respect for her lost parents. Let them think what she wished. She threw a sharp glance as Haures, innocently going through her petticoats. I don't know, she said, leaning on one of the tall wooden bedposts. Isn't is the butler's job to arrange visits? She wasn't usually this cross in the morning, but her dream had put her in a foul mood and Haures was the closest person on which to take out her vexation. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and watch him go through her clothing, picking out whatever he wanted her to wear. It didn't matter to here as long as she hair was done so that she right eye wasn't visible. People would start asking questions if they saw the mark within her milky white iris. listulistu Click to expand... Kadrin said Then we're by ourselves for the day, Haures said, sounding pleased by the prospect. He laid out a long black dress, beautiful and expensive, and a warming petticoat, with a half-veiled hat to emphasise her lovely hair and - more to the point - provide an extra layer of protection for her eye. The tiresome priest has invited you for dinner again. I'd be worried that he suspects something, but to be honest I think he simply fancies himself the next Duke of York. Or, at least, he wishes the benefits thereof... Haures clicked his tongue, making a slight alteration to the clothes as he laid them out. A boring and tiresome man with none of the passion and faith I saw in my enemies of old. I would suggest you invite him to dinner and let me eat him, if I thought we could get away with it. He stood, turning with a click of his heels, and was once again in a perfect butler's pose, even if he didn't speak in a butler's manner. Good news. One of my little birds has come back to me we are within days of tracking down the hired hand your enemies called to take you away, who put you in the pits. He's a man outside the law, one who never shall be missed, and I promise that I can make him last a few months at least for your enjoyment. From the information he gives us, we will be able to track down those who paid him, and begin the process of making them suffer. With that, he transformed his speech patterns again, once again the perfect servant. Will there be anything else, Madame, or should I leave you to change? Click to expand... i z a said She walked over to the wardrobe and watched over his shoulder as he laid out today's outfit. She shivered slightly. The tiled floor held no warmth for her bare feet. She approved of the outfit he had selected, as always, particularly the hat. Most of her hats had the half veil nowadays. For obvious reasons. She shook her head at the mention of the priest. More annoyed than amused at the balding old fool. Tell the priest that I have taken sick and will not be able to attend dinner tonight. That took care of the priest. She hated his visits. He always went on about his duty to God and how her parents were now angels looking over her. She grimaced inwardly at that. She didn't want her parents knowing that she had made a pact with a demon. She could not bare the thought would how they would feel about that little tidbit. Another matter caught her interest. A matter of days? Her heart skipped a beat. Yes, she would want him to die slowly, to suffer how she had suffered and more. She feel the tips of her lips curl upward in a sardonic smile. She knew Haures's strength. Esther knew what he was capable of. All she had to do was ask it. She lost herself in her dark thoughts, not hearing is last questions. She merely stared at his chest unseeingly. Her eyes focused on a distant screams of the unknown assassin. listulistu Click to expand... Kadrin said Father Ferguson will be upset to hear you are not well, Madame, Haures said, with a nod. I will pass on the message. I am sure he will ask me to pray for your health you will forgive me if I ignore this, Madame? Those that Father Ferguson prays to would think it most unappealing to receive a prayer from one such as myself. He laid out a pair of house slippers at the door, walking backwards until his back was set against the double doors - his suit always crisp and perfect, no matter how often he bent, stood, went on his knees scrubbing the cupboards. It wasn't honestly a suit, after all, but part of his own infernal aura. Demons did not wear clothes, as he delighted in reminding her sometimes, just when he wanted to set her off balance. I am preparing the room behind the bookcase for the guest I am tracking down, Madame, he said, knowing that she would know what he meant. The room behind the bookcase was the manor's only secret, a hidden place where one of the past Dukes of York had kept brandy and Catholic literature. It was spacious, well-hidden, and best of all, completely soundproofed. A hypothetical prisoner could scream until his lungs gave out and remain unheard throughout the rest of the manor. Perhaps you would like to visit and see whether you approve of my preparations. After all, his entertainments will be first and foremost for you. With that, he made a deep bow, and left the room she heard him a moment before the door closed, raising his voice at one of the maids for going too slowly. Haures kept his own sins in the open, where they were easy to see he spent a great deal more time correcting the pretty young maids than the elders. Click to expand... i z a said Esther waited until the door was closed firmly behind him before slipping out of her nightgown. Her long red hair tumbled over her shoulders, shielding her perky little breasts from view, even if he should return. She wouldn't put it past him, 'accidentally' forgetting something in her room only to barge in on her undressed. The young Duchess dressed by herself. The household was used to her love of privacy, even from the female maids. They had balked at first, crying that a Lady did not dress herself, but in the end she had forced the lot of them out of her rooms, forbidding all of them from entering until she was properly clothed. Her silk nightdress pooled around her feet, baring her pale flesh to the chill. The entirety of her back was covered in scars of all sizes, even her thighs and calves were covered in tiny pink slashes. Her keepers had been fond of lashings. It was the reason why Esther most desired privacy. No one knew of her time in the pits. They all believed that she had been so traumatized by the death of her mother and father that she had blocked out their deaths and the following months all together. Fools. Esther wished she could forget. She dressed quickly, her mind on the hidden room. She pulled at the strings of her corset with quick, deft jerks of her wrists. By this time she was quite used to having to do up her own corset and it took mere moments before she was finished. She put on the half-veiled hat, leaving her long tresses to pour over one shoulder. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she left her rooms and walked quickly to the library, knowing that Haures would be there waiting for her. listulistu Click to expand... Kadrin said Madame, Haures said, bowing to her at the bookshelf within the library. Another spot of perfect timing - he had been spending his time around the house, chivvying the maids along, sorting the silverware, feeling up young Julia behind the cellar door, dusting the portrait gallery, inspecting the horses, feeling up young Thomas in the stables... but as if by some signal only he could hear, he'd made his way to the bookshelf in time for the Duchess's arrival. There was nearly a crack in his facade here, a dance of glimmering hateful joy behind his eyes, a flash of the rapture of agony. Unlike many who made contracts with HauresHavresFlauros, Great Duke and Grand-General of Hell, Esther had no need to fear deception, duplicity, and destruction... her plans fed his hunger for pain a dozen times over, and he would get everything he desired from their contract. He even felt protective of this girl, who could rise so high, grow so strong, and - for Haures was no stranger to the British courts - throw so much more business his way. The biography of Roger Bacon is the key, Madame, if I may remind you. Haures gestured to the book in question, a sturdy leather-lined object as were so many of the others. Simply pull it forth and the door shall open. I shall follow you inside, Madame, as is a servant's place, unless you specifically wish me to precede you. Click to expand... i z a said She nodded impatiently, knowing already which book had been the key. She had lived in this house her entire life after all. She crossed her arms under her breasts and waited for him to get on with it. She was eager to see what his hellish mind had come up with. She could almost imagine the devices he had gotten his hands on for this occasion. A month. It had taken an entire month for them to even get a scent of the man who had executed her parents and sold her into a living hell. But now... now she would relish in this man's pain. He would tell her everything that she wanted, and then things that didn't interest her, all to stop the pain. Her good eye practically glowed with undisguised animosity. She would see this man suffer until she was fully satisfied, and then Haures could do what he pleased with the scum. Her slender fingers tugged at a lock of red hair, a trait she had developed whenever she was impatient or irritated. Well, let's see it Haures. His tongue rolled off her tongue like satin. If she hadn't been so cross, it would have sounded sensual. She hated saying his name. The way his name sounded on her lips brought flames to her cheeks. She was well aware of the promise she had made him, and what that meant for her. She jerks on her hair a bit more forcefully, causing a sharp pain in her scalp. listulistu Click to expand... Kadrin said Madame might be interested, Haures said, leading her down the spiral staircase, to know that professional inquisitors consider the first torture to be the showing of the instruments themselves. In many cases, the subject interrogated breaks and confesses all at this point. This is of course assuming, Madame, that the purpose of the inquisition is to gather evidence and not - as it is in many cases, including this one - the inquisition itself. The room was all done in wood, like a storage room, but Haures' redecorations had made it another little corner of the Hell he hailed from. How he'd gotten all this furniture into the hidden room without anyone noticing was, perhaps, a question best left unasked. Haures pointed out the new furniture first. The chairs. Two chairs, side by side, one covered in small knobs - like doorknobs - the other in spikes. The wonderful thing about these instruments, Madame, is that the subject's weight itself provides the pressure required to inflict pain. The knobs are a lighter punishment than the spikes, of course, but I assure you both are awful... and with the knobs, you need not worry about killing him, and ending your entertainment too soon. Both chairs have empty compartments beneath the seat itself Madame may wish to place hot coals within to heat her subject. The pillory. A wooden stocks, set upon a dais. While mostly a tool of humiliation, it will also keep Madame's subject still in order for her to utilise other instruments upon him. The wheel. A St. Andrew's Cross, set within a wheel. Set low, Madame may break her subject upon the wheel rotating it, and placing bars within to halt its rotation, breaking bones. A Grecian execution, originally, and favoured for its ability to display the condemned afterwards. Set low or high, and with the subject secured to it, the cross of the wheel will keep Madame's subject still, and allow blood or other fluids to drip upon the ground. For milder purposes, Madame may disorient her subject by positioning him upside down, or upon his side. The Judas cradle. This appeared to be nothing more than a good-sized wooden pyramid upon a stool, with brackets in the walls nearby. Madame may tie her subject to the walls, place his anus above the cradle, and... as with the chairs, his weight provides the torture. This can, of course, be a method of execution. The Virgin of Nuremberg. A tall iron maiden, closed when Haures gestured to it. Named for its place of design and first use. I am sure Madame has heard of this one the more lurid tales gather speed quickly. If I may venture a small bon mot, for a virgin, she is entirely used to penetration. The spikes can be set at any depth, from a pinprick to full impalement. This particular Virgin I had designed with a personal specification the facemask may be opened, so that Madame may hear her subject scream. The rack. A hefty table, with cuffs on each corner, and a bewildering series of chains and axles underneath. Madame may stretch her subject to her heart's content. By some reports, the most painful of any device in this room and the benefit is that, should Madame not tear his legs and arms away, there is a very small chance of fatality. The table. A stone table, with cuffs again on each corner, and grooves set around the edges. Should Madame wish to bleed her subject, or should Madame give him to me, the blood will run off and sluice away. The design is based around sacrificial altars discovered in the New World and used by the heathen Maya, with some Druidic influence. Finished with the furniture, Haures moved on to a table, gesturing at the implements thereon. Some of these Madame will find quite simple, he confessed. This whip, for example. While a steady hand and strength will be well-rewarded, the whip's tension and oiling make even the lightest touch painful. This knife can be used like any other, but Madame might find it most interesting in its original use - it is a flenser, used to flay the skin from - well, originally, walruses. In the modern day it finds so many extra uses. These tongs can carry coals from the brazier over there, or heated to pinch and brand skin. ...ah, while we speak of tongs, it is a shame Madame's subject is male, I have always had a fondness for the Spanish Spider. Still, I am sure my opportunity will come in the meanwhile, I shall await patiently. Some of these instruments, however, are more esoteric... Something that looked like a double-ended tuning fork, sharpened, with a ring in the middle. The Heretic's Fork. When Madame's subject has his neck in this collar, this end - here - shall enter his chest, and this end - here - under his chin, into the jaw. While the agony is pronounced, we are perhaps most interested in the atavistic response Madame's subject would find himself most effectively immobilised. Sadly, it would silence him, as well. A glove, set with blades upon the fingers. The Spanish Tickler - Spain has been such a boon to inquisitions. With this Madame may flay her subject as if with her own bare hands. A series of small, vice-like objects. I am sure Madame has heard of these, if perhaps not seen any, as I do not believe they were in vogue in the pits - thumbscrews. But do not feel restrained by the name, Madame any finger or toe can be crushed within the vice. A larger vice indeed, now... with what almost looked like ice cream scoops dangling from the top. The head crusher. Madame may place her subject's head within this and simply turn the screw. These... Haures flicked a scoop. ...are to catch his eyes, should they pop from their sockets. The next seemed to be a holy water sprinkler, but Haures touched and lifted it with no adverse reaction at all. Boiling lead is poured in at this end, Haures explained, and comes out here, where it can be sprinkled on the subject's body. Lastly... now, this I am particularly fond of. A large, bulbous ovoid at the end of a crank. The choke-pear, or poire d'angoisse . Inserted into the subject's mouth or anus, to promote another atavistic reaction of debasement, and... As Haures turned the crank, the pear opened like a flower, spreading in all directions, the wickedly sharp 'leaves' at least several feet apart. Et voila . Madame must be careful with the pear, of course, for fear of ending her entertainment too soon. After laying down the device, Haures was behind Esther, holding her shoulders familiarly - but with the familiarity of a friend or family member goading to courage. You must have a will of iron, he told her. The Queen has said that she has the heart and stomach of a King of England so too must you. You may see something in these instruments that reminds you of the pits hear something in his screams that reminds you of your own treatment. Bury these feelings. You were swept away as an obstacle, used as an amusement you were fed a steady diet of malice. What you bring back to them is not mere malice, but the sweetest of vengeance. And with that, before her again, in his perfect butler's pose. I trust that Madame has found my contract with her satisfactory, thus far? Click to expand...