5,801Chapter 3: Funds and Resources
Under the stairs, green eyes opened. He felt sore over much of his body, and his forehead felt sticky. Wiping it with his sleeve showed a black, oily substance that had oozed from his forehead. If he had seen a mirror in the last few years, he felt sure that it was from that irritated scar, the same one that never healed. After seeing the dark thing that had been inside it, he didn't really feel shocked that it had stayed painful.
He frowned. Something was different. Scratch that, a LOT of things were different. His body had not gone through the whole warmth treatment his arm and part of his scull had done, but he still felt changed. Carefully examining himself, he realized that forcing that creature must have filled him with light. Many small aches and stiffness was gone, and his face, especially the parts closest to where the scar had been, felt amazing. He had been pushing a lot of light through that area, so it seemed reasonable.
He also was thinking more clearly. Who knew how much brain damage he had healed during that fight, and his eyes felt very odd. Looking at his arm he felt a little stunned. While before he could barely see a green glow, now he could see a network of wisp thin green threads curling around his skin, muscles, bones. It felt the same. He looked around and realized how much he could SEE.
The crayon marks on the wall from years past were clear, the small spiders that hid in the corners, the nails that always seemed to catch his skin, all of it was clear, more clear than he had ever seen before.
Of course, this was made much more impressive since the only light was coming in under the edge of the cupboard door.
His examination came to an abrupt end as he realized that it must have been some time since he had last moved. More importantly, since he had last visited a bathroom. He glared at the door of his prison. Making noise would only cause a beating, and if they had not tried to move him or give him a break, then they intended him to make a mess so they could punish him for it later. Or die. Either way, the only outcome of complaint would be pain.
However, he had just smashed an evil monsters brain in with a light drill. Doesn't matter how or where he did it, he was not going to be beaten by a cheap lock from some hardware store.
He pressed his hand firmly against the hinge, and reached for his thread. To his glee, two came down his arm and to his hand. Even as sore and pained as he felt right now, he had improved his control. Coiling the threads around each finger, he felt them become solid and hard. He pressed each digit firmly against the rusted metal henge. Instead of slicing his flesh, the metal began squeaking as he pulled first the top and bottom hinge apart. Leaving the cupboard locked, he pushed the hinged side into the house and silently listened for any changes.
The Loud Man could sleep through anything, and the Thin Woman had to sleep through the Loud Man's snoring. So sneaking involved avoiding Dudley, which required no real effort. If one covered the overweight child in jam, MAYBE he would roll over. Now that he thought about it, just about any noise would be ignored since he was supposed to be locked away. Each person upstairs would blame noises on the others, as long as the noises didn't come from the hell under the stairs.
He pulled off what clothing he had and left it in his hell. Getting caught nude would not increase any punishment if caught, but he could not risk clothing catching or making noise. He ghosted up the stairs, and moved to the shared bathroom.
~~~Core Threads~~~
He left the bathroom, silently closing the door. He had been too afraid to turn on the lights, but after a very tense session he had felt worlds better. He also had risked using the sink, cleaning his face and much of his upper body of the grime and dried blood that he had grown accustomed to. His mind however felt strange. Unlike usual, he seemed to be overflowing with ideas and thoughts now. Before the changes, he had to carefully focus on his actions or make mistakes, sore muscles twitching at bad times, tired limbs losing their grip. Now however...
He needed to keep getting better. The changes so far were good, but he was still a broken person in many ways. He tried to prioritise his objectives. Leaving was an option, but an unknown. Probably best to heal here, where the dangers (While numerous) were known and avoidable. He also knew the Dursley family did not notice things, or at least things they wished were not true. Dudley stole money and blamed him, he ate anything he wished whenever he wished, and he got anything he wanted but cared little for it. This was a gift.
The young lad reached Dudley's room, and pressed his finger near where the hinges should be on the door. A green thread reached his finger, and he willed it to reach the few inches on the other side of the door. It was almost too warm, his finger felt like was close to burning, but pain was an old friend. Ignoring the warmth, he grinned as he could see a hair of the thread reach INTO the wood of the door and begin to coat the hinge, a layer of light separating the metal and hopefully keeping the door silent.
Quickly repeating his actions on the other two hinges, he reached up and cautiously opened the door and peaked inside. The snores inside the dark room were much louder now, and the heavy mass on the bed seemed to be punishing the sad mattress. A slight noise forced the quite child to stop, and he looked at the floor. Toys and clothing covered the floor, a mine field of dangerous noises could be created here. Moving cautiously inside, he saw a worn path of carpet only slightly covered with shirts and such, probably created as the large one kicked things away as he got up in the morning and attacked the day. He followed the trail to the dresser, and more importantly to the large jar on top filled with bills.
The boy knew Dudley could not really count, or rather never bothered to put in the effort. If he didn't have enough, he would simply complain until one of his guardians gave it to him. Probably hitting the "freak" in the process. As long as the jar seemed roughly as full, no money would be missed. Moving deliberately and smoothly, he opened the jar and began sorting the cash onto the dresser. Bills where easiest to hide, so he quickly made a pile of all the £5 and £10 notes to refill the jar. Honestly, he was more than a little shocked at the amount of money here, considering that the large child never actually spent this money, he simply asked for things and got them. Aside from the expected £20 notes, he even found three £50! Shaking his head at the waste, he put all the low bills and a few of the larger ones back, keeping a total of about £320. He stressed his eyes and looked over the room for anything useful before leaving.
Near the edge of the pile where a few wallets, in or around a small pile of large pants. Dudley tended to lose things in here, so it was not really surprising that he had duplicates of almost anything he used regularly. Choosing a simple thin black one, he opened it to find even more bills, £25 worth of £5 and £10's. Apparently it had not been worth the trouble of putting the cash into the jar. Checking the other wallets gained him another £55, and he was honestly more than a little surprised to be coming away from this pit of a room with £400. He would probably be able to increase it by checking here regularly, as he knew Dudley would simply ask for more rather than search for lost money. Storing his bills into a now much thicker wallet, the boy grabbed one of the smaller pillow case covers from the floor. The larger boy tended to just throw away things than bother asking someone to clean them, and this would become a very useful bag.
He silently moved downstairs, each step pressed on the outside where the nails went into the woodwork to avoid squeaks.
~~~Core Threads~~~
It was time to gather some food and water.
Stowing the wallet under the floorboard in his hell cupboard, he moved into the kitchen. While he personally cooked most of the meals, the men in the house had not grown to the large size they held today by eating sparingly. Ready to eat food filled the pantry and shelves, and although not amazingly healthy it was filled with preservatives and didn't need to be refrigerated. His small hands almost quivered as he began to fill his sack, trying to focus on the mostly healthy stuff since that tended to be ignored and eventually thrown out. Energy bars (Dudleykins needs his energy!), muffins, jerky, packaged breads filled with jams and such. This pantry was so forbidden that the boy had been slapped for walking too close once.
His hands almost shook as he hid the full sack under the stairs in the cupboard. Only the Thin Woman could fit in here, and the filth promised she would never try. As long as it could not be seen from outside, as long as they did not see evidence, he could store what he liked here. He grinned as he pulled out his emergency bread and scraps and buried them in the kitchen garbage. He felt real progress was happening here. Moving back to the pantry and ignoring his sore stomach, he found the section filled with bottles of water, juice, and sweet drinks that Dudley seemed to be grown on. Over twelve bottles of water and six bottles of orange juice went into his hell. He felt almost giddy with success at this point. Grabbing another bag of jerky, a bottle of apple juice, and two muffins, he headed back to his cupboard. Grabbing the hinged side of the hell door, he pulled it closed using the edge and slid the now less rusty hinges back into place. With no damage on the lock, with nothing missing that the angry family would care about, with no evidence AND them currently trying to kill him through avoidance, he had never been safer. He decided his hidden floorboard would become his wrapper trash bin for now, so even if they found it they might not find the wallet.
His smile seemed etched into his face now as he placed small bites of seasoned meat in his mouth. He felt more alive right now than he had for months, and he wanted this to continue. As he ate he decided that immediate curing would help any other plans he could imagine, and he might even be able to build up food and money now. The ability to sneak away vastly increased his options as well, but healing would only make him stronger.
Finishing his food and drinking the apple delight, he piled the trash into his former treasure hole under the floor board on top of his new wallet, and made himself more comfortable. He felt much more prepared to address the damage that baby daemon had caused, and he was not going to let some jerk mess up his wonderful grassland. Pulling the warm light green threads into his neck again, he felt them wrap around his brain again as he slid back into whiteness.