Sunday March 8th 2015
This early in the morning, the cottage was a cold place. An etheric loneliness bled into the soul, born of its missing heart. Late at night when the cold darkness wrapped around the small cottage with the wind skittering against the walls, the inside was a place of wonder and beauty. Elizabeth did that, her special magic that had nothing to do with her being Chthonic and everything to do with her gentle heart.
He turned away from the cottage, his easy smile dying as he thought about what he planned. He had his reasons, but they were so much wind, he was doing this because he wanted to. Atalanta's words rang in his head, the barbed syllables whipping and scouring his heart. Alexandra and Anastasia would always be more important than him. Both blessed with power and prestige. Next to their lives he was little more than a footnote. He'd known long before hearing it from Atalanta.
That didn't mean it didn't hurt. That he didn't feel the lash of shame when the facts were dragged into the unforgiving sunlight. Under the it cancerous glare, they wriggled like maggots, blind, diseased things proving his filth and worthlessness. On good days, he thought he pulled his weight, but today wasn't a good day.
Flirting with invisibility, the red ribbon fluttered in a stray breeze, marking a little used trail winding deeper into the woods. The information had come from a slip of paper taped to his door, an opportunity and a challenge. He'd either burn a bridge beyond repair, get killed, or make a difference.
The path meandered into the forest, far enough for privacy, any screams swallowed by the wooden brothers that cared nothing for the flesh born. Silent as only a rabbit can be, Cesare crept over the bare ground. The kids were intent on their project, giving him time to take in the scene.
The three boys were dressed in school uniforms, jacket and pants ironed until creases were razor sharp. Immaculate, blinding white shirts a testament to disciplined care. Tucked into their pants, the shirts showcased bulging chests and thin waists. They had the scarred looks of kids who'd gone through serious shit and were determined to teach the world a lesson for fucking with them. Thin branches held in white knuckled fists dripped blood with the regularity of pain.
A smaller boy kneeled on his hands and knees, back arched eagerly for the lash, bare skin hidden by thick strips of lacerated flesh. Life's blood wept out in trickles of agony down his back. If the boy was lucky, he'd be scarred for life, more than likely he'd have the kind of deep, muscular damage that left him maimed for life. But the boy wanted this, had begged to be here.
"That's enough," Cesare whispered, sun dimming as dense malice seeped into the air. Shadows clawed across the ground, devouring the warm clearing, fathomless in their depths, they were the hidden night of the deep sea, unfettered by the light of day.
Whipping around, surprise turned to fury, two of them leveling glares at Cesare. "This has nothing to do with you, bed wetter." The snarled words were joined by a slow hand reaching into the small of the boys back.
Stepping forward, the third boy separated himself from the others, taking control with the ease of a born leader. "Quiet," Sampson growled at the lippy one, never taking his eyes off Cesare. "The boy wants to be here."
The stripped boy's face was an unholy mask of tears, blood, and sweat, but his eyes shone with determination. He wanted this ritual, had begged for them to beat him. It was the only way to into Cerberus.
The note had called it the Lash of Hades, an initiation into the ranks of the dogs. The ritual stripped away who you were, agony shredding your truth, leaving only bleeding meat behind. Once they'd broken your pride, driven you into the dirt, humbled you before the god of pain, only then would they embrace you as a brother. From that wasteland of torture, they built something finer, better, harder, turning you into a soldier.
It was as old as time, hazing, indoctrination, or brain washing. It was all the same, a weak kid wanting to fit in. So desperate to have friends, they'd do anything, face any degradation to have someone care about them. As long as children had lived in sewers, there had been scavengers ready to gnaw their bones.
"I know," Cesare said, eyes rising to meet Sampson's. The boy gave Cesare a slow nod of understanding. This was how Cerberus made its soldiers, it didn't matter if Sampson agreed with the method. Only that it worked and had worked for thousands of years. "I don't care if he asked for it. He's a student, his safety's my concern."
The boys behind Sampson growled low at the words, fanning out to the sides, taking up angles that would let them rush Cesare without tripping over each other. Even the boy on the ground glared at him, fury contorting the mask of suffering he wore.
"We can take him, sir," the lippy one whispered. "He didn't bring the Furies with him."
Looking across the feet that separated them, Sampson never took his eyes off Cesare. "Maybe we could. But then what? Do we kill him, and leave him in the forest for Miss. Raven to find? Her wrath would destroy us. Do we beat him down and make an example of him? The Furies would tear us apart. That's all betting we could take him, you looked at Blaez lately, how'd that work for him?"
The boys looked at Sampson and back at Cesare, doubt, the deadliest of poisons shining in their eyes. If you don't know you can win, you won't. No doubt, no hesitation, no half measures, go all in or die under the blade of someone who will.
"I need something to take back to my people," Sampson said simply. "They won't stop on your word, if you don't give me something, we'll find another place."
Cesare could hurt, break, or kill him. Destroy Cerberus with tactics fair and foul, but they'd continue in some fashion. It was part of their culture; a sacred rite they wouldn't give up for Cesare. All power was based on the surrender of others, you only controlled what they let you control. Cerberus might work with him, or at least Sampson might, but that only went so far.
"I can't have you taking people into the woods and whipping them for fun," Cesare said, violence saturating the air. "If you want to do this, you're going to have to bring it out of the shit hole you've put it in. A doctor on hand to make sure it doesn't go too far and to clean up afterward. You'll need their parents' permission."
Sampson gaped at him while the lackeys eyed each other. "You mean you want us to make it public? The school will never allow it. Parent's permission? You fucking high? The reason we do it here's because no one would ever let their kids go through this."
"When was the last time you tried?" Cesare waited a long minute under their glares. "People don't mind crazy, if they think they control it. The Sanguine Nativitate is born in blood and death, it's just smeared in civilizations shit to make it seem respectable. If they'll let their kids put their faces in a blender, I don't see why we can't get you permission to beat the shit out of them."
The boys looked at each other with even Sampson at a loss for words. Shaking his head, the roughly hewn boy stared at Cesare with intent eyes. "Lay it out so I have something to kick to the higher ups."
"Right now, you're rats hiding in the corners of the school. Everyone knows who you are and what you do, but your cast out, unwanted and degenerate. Since you're not officially a club, you have no representation, forced to beg the Thagirion for crumbs. You've been around as long as the Thagirion, and while they're looked on as a hollowed tradition your little more than knuckle dragging thugs kept in line by the golden boys."
Cesare's eyes pulled them into his words, enthralling them by giving shape to their dreams. "The first step is finding a teacher willing to sponsor you. Once we have that, we can push to get Cerberus recognized as legitimate. That'll give you the rights of the other clubs, to gather, organize, and representation. Once we bring you into the sheltering shadows, we can work at getting your traditions worked out, so they conform to the school's code."
The boys behind Sampson looked at each other doubtfully, but Sampson only had eyes for Cesare. "We've tried that, the Thagirion's always blocked us. They like having using us as muscle too much to ever allow us to have representation. I'm surprised you'd be willing to open the way to our independence, given your move to take over."
A vicious smile cut across Cesare's lips, his shadow seething along the ground. "I don't need you under my thumb. If I don't like you, I'll bury you." Cancerous, the malignant words sent the lackeys stepping back, a sureness in threat that couldn't be faked. Born of plans held just out of sight, of nuclear option's waiting patiently for percentages to tip in the wrong direction.
Sampson studied Cesare for a long minute looking for the bluff, paling, the boy came to the same conclusion. This wasn't an offer of independence; it was an offer of survival. If they walked this road, they'd be out from under the Thagirion's thumb and have everything they'd ever wanted. Refusal, meant Cesare would destroy them, utterly, completely, without mercy or quarter given.
Cesare watched the thoughts pool in Sampson's eyes. Swallowing, the leader of Cerberus voice was husky. "You'll back us?"
"Find a teacher willing to stand for you. Once you have that, the Furies will fight for you." Holding the boy's eyes, Cesare got the nod of understanding he needed for the words unspoken. There was no deal if they went after Alexandra. If they touched her, the plan was off the table and Cesare would butcher them.
Supporting the small boy between them, the lackeys lead the way out of the clearing. The three of them eyed Cesare with doubt, hope, and disbelief running through them. Like all outsiders, they longed to be accepted. It was fun to be an outsider until you realized you were alone. Cesare was offering them something they'd dreamed of for as long as they'd been part of Cerberus.
Sampson eyed the three as they left the clearing. Holding out his hand, the boy met Cesare's eyes. "You meant what you said?"
Cesare considered Sampson's hopeful eyes. Cesare had never been part of anything he cared about, even the Furies only mattered because of the girls. He didn't have ideals, lacked even a smidgen of morality, and was devoid of honor. Politics was just another blood splattered battlefield to him. Cesare lacked a touch stone to understand the cautious hope that shone in Sampson's eyes.
But being willing to die for something was something, Cesare got that. Sampson would die for Cerberus. They meant as much to Sampson as the girls did to Cesare. The boys had come from similar sewers, both looking for a place to belong and people to love. Sampson had found it in a group of outcasts, and Cesare had found friends. There was nothing Cesare wouldn't do for his friends, and there wasn't much Sampson wouldn't do for Cerberus.
Getting them recognized was the collective dream of every member of Cerberus since its founding. The only way Cesare could put it into perspective was if he could make one girl's dreams come true. It would be glorious, a moment when he might think he was worth something more than diseased flesh. A cloak of midnight to shelter himself in through the cancerous days of blinding light and searing heat.
Clasping Sampson's hand, he met his eyes squarely. "You leave me and mine alone, and I'll get you recognized."
The man's mouth opened, eyes flaring with fierce joy, hand tightening in a burst of uncontrolled need. "You're not asking us to back you?"
Still holding the boys hand, Cesare smiled. "I'd like your support, but taking you out of the Thagirion's camp is enough." Shrugging, Cesare let go of his hand.
Searching his eyes, Sampson's words were quiet. "Only you would think that was a fair price for what you've done." With a troubled look, Sampson walked past Cesare to join his friends.
Cesare waited until the boy was out of sight before turning to the forest. "How long have you been following me?"
Grinning, Elizabeth stepped out from behind the tree, hand running across the old oak in a loving caress. Undergrowth parted for her, leaves reaching greedily to brush against her legs. They didn't serve her, she didn't command them, it was deeper than that, a bond woven in love across a tapestry of devotion.
Dropping her hands, she delighted in the feathery touch of the leaves through her fingers. She needed them. It wasn't that she liked the woods, no, she needed it as much as she needed air. A truth written in the lightness of her steps and the joy in her smile.
Coming into the clearing, she looked at the blood-stained ground. "I picked you up when you left the cottage." Turning away from the bloody ground, she gave him a meaningful look. "You have a habit of getting into trouble when you break routine. I thought I'd keep an eye on you."
Cesare grinned, she had him dead to rights on that one. When he went off on his own, he usually ended up getting his ass handed to him and picking up a few scars. It wasn't that he didn't try to keep his skin in one piece, it was just that shit went sideways and his mouth got away from him.
"Good thing I have you looking out for me." Elizabeth searched his eyes, looking for the barbed hooks in the words. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted her around. A strange pride welled up in her before she looked away, hiding the vulnerable feeling.
"I know you can take care of yourself, I just .…" The words were soft with a need to sooth his pride.
"I like you here." The words pulled her back to face him, a shy uncertainty showing in her eyes. "I wanted to prove something to myself. It was stupid." Stepping forward, his hand stuttered toward her before he mastered it. He wanted to touch her, to take her hand in his. For a moment to have the connection he ached for.
"Atalanta said I was nothing but a burden to the others. She said I'd never be worthy of them, or you." The words sparked a deep roiling fury in Elizabeth's eyes. She wasn't mad at him but for him. "When I noticed you, I knew this was stupid. I'm not in this to be the strongest." His voice went soft and husky. "I'm in this so I can walk beside you and be part of your lives. I'm not here for them."
She held his eyes, saying things that would only break under the weight of words. Because if he said the words, she'd pull away, and he'd be alone again. Elizabeth would never be what he wanted; she'd never share his feelings. He couldn't tell her how he felt, all he had were these moments, where he said he loved her without saying anything. If the words were never spoken, she could pretend they were only friends.
Sighing, she looked away from him. "Cesare .…" A world of sorrow and frustration loaded that one name, their entire relationship condensed into one word. Shaking her head, she didn't continue, knowing it wouldn't change anything or afraid it would change everything. Even the meekest dog kicked one too many times would bite. And no one would call Cesare meek.
They walked back to campus lost in thought. No matter the darkness of those twisted corridors, they unconsciously walked with their hands inches apart. But in the game of love inches are miles.
Breaking from the forest, Elizabeth seemed to shake off her gloom, smiling into the spring sunlight. "We have a busy day. I want to get the flower beds ready for new plantings. We need to freshen the exhibits; the kids have been out, and I've seen more than a little damage. I want to have them put to right by the end of the day." She continued, laying out a day that had all the hallmarks of a nightmare.