Hunting

[faramir_hurin]

Dated to Wednesday, 3 January 2007.

Content warning: Contains extreme violence and disturbing imagery, read with caution. Violence to a lesser extent in second top-level comment.At long last I am going to the other side of the island. I've planned to go for some time but never have. It should be pleasant after the recent snow and I shall go round

Comments

[andrejkoscuisko]

Andrej stopped and thought a moment. He had broken Faramir's feet with the driver. He had broken Faramir's chest with the driver. He had ruined his knees with his knife - not one of his (Joslire's) five-knives. Never that. He could never dishonor the steel that way. But the knife from the kitchen had been most effective. He had tipped ash into the man's eyes, but not too much; damage to the head was too likely to be prematurely fatal. The work had been incredibly satisfying and Andrej again wondered why he hadn't done this sooner.

When given prisoners to process, Andrej was restricted by the levels. They were usually enough. Once a prisoner confessed, Andrej was forced to disengage and the prisoner was released for trial. It was agony for Andrej. Only rarely could Andrej truly satisfy his desires.

He thought back to Geltoi, formerly Administrator Geltoi of the Domitt Prison. Andrej uncovered treachery at the prison and Geltoi was responsible. He was given to Andrej after receiving the maximum sentence - Tenth Level Command Termination. He was tortured to death. Geltoi took ten days to die.

Ten very satisfying days.

Geltoi had been older than Faramir, older and fat. Faramir was healthy. And strong. Andrej had always known he could do better. Most Inquisitors were lucky to get four days. At that point, prisoners generally died while the Inquisitor rested for the evening. But Andrej was a master and knew it. His prisoners never died until he was ready.

Faramir wouldn't. Andrej could tell. "Twelve. He could stand twelve," the voice in Andrej's mind whispered. Yes, twelve at least ...

Andrej shook his head. He saw the fire. It seemed brighter and looking up at the sky, Andrej realized why. The sun had set. Faramir could be missed, would be missed and soon.

Andrej knew he would have to move quickly not to be discovered now. It was likely already too late, but he would do what he could. He removed his soiled gloves and tossed them on the fire. He wiped his hands upon his sweater before it followed the gloves. Then he sought Faramir.

He knelt next to the man's head. He covered the man’s eyes to allow him a few moments of privacy, holding his hand slightly distant so as not to further disturb him. Whispering, Andrej said, "take what peace you may from your Gods, Captain Faramir. It is time."

First he cut the connection between the brain and subbrain at the top of his spine, so that the mind not be burdened with the body's frantic signals that it was dying. And second he cut the connection between the bundle of nerve fibers at the base of the brain and the spine, so that the body would forget to breathe and death would come of oxygen starvation. Breathing would continue as long as the connection between the spine and the subbrain was left intact.

Andrej severed it.

His body stilled, and Andrej waited. Four eighths, and the body went into spasm the uncoordinated twitches - neural "noise" - of a machine without a governor. Twelve eighths, and Faramir was dead, and Andrej waited until enough time had passed that he could feel certain that his mind was still before he rose.

With respect to Susan R. Matthews for the use of some of her exquisite language.

[faramir_hurin]

It's time? I'm confused. I do not remember peace and I have no gods. Eru? The Valar? Can they find me here? Please...

My neck… but there is no more pain. No pain anywhere.

The Horn of Gondor sounds clearly: it is close. Someone is coming after all. I knew they wouldn’t just leave me. Ever louder, ever closer, and someone moves silently through the trees to stand in the shadow.

My eyes are ruined but I can see him as clearly as I ever did. He came after all even though it’s too late. It does not matter because now I won’t have to die alone.

Thank you.

XxX

Faramir's head was tilted slightly to the side and his eyes were open, slightly glassy. He was gone.

[andrejkoscuisko]

Andrej was unsure of the best way to dispose of the body. He no longer had time to bury it and move the fire over to cover the blood. And there was a lot of blood. Andrej was prepared with fresh clothing but he had forgotten how it got under his nails. He would have to bathe in the freezing ocean before he re-dressed. At least the rubber boots had kept his feet clean.

The ground was soft, mostly sand. It was still his best chance; it would take far too long to carry the body into dinosaur territory. Andrej was about to dig when he saw distant movement. An animal?

[the_real_ray]

"You being a better skater than me has nothing to do with my manhood," said Ray, resisting the temptation to shove a handful of snow in Stanley's collar as they walked with Dief out in the woods. "It's skating for God's sake. Little girls do it."

"Exactly my point," Ray countered, a smirk fixed on his face. "Little girls can skate, but you cannot." He pointed a finger at Vecchio, mouth opened to continue, when Dief suddenly padded ahead, smelling the ground like the most tasty squirrel-- no, like the most tasty donut was around and he was ready steady to go catch himself a snack. And then the wolf was barking his damn head off and running into the trees. "...Huh."

"Little girls can also braid their Barbies' hair, but my masculinity is not threatened by--"

No, this wasn't just Dief running after a squirrel or a bird or a Sasquatch. Ray had known Fraser long enough -- and by extension had known Diefenbaker long enough -- to know that the best way to react to this was to draw his gun and follow.

"You don't gotta get your gun out to prove your masculinity to me, Vecchio," Ray called from Vecchio's side, his own gun drawn. Dief was not shutting up and Ray's instincts were saying wrong, wrong, wrong. He fumbled for the glasses he kept in his coat pocket as he ran.

"Someone needs to tell that damn wolf we don't have four legs," said Vecchio, already puffing a little as they tried to catch up. "Where the hell's he going anyway? There's nothing out here but sparrows and woolly mammoths, and there's no way I'm siding with him against a woolly mammoth."

Vecchio hadn't been around for the Voldemort thing, but Ray wasn't about to say it and jinx this thing. Maybe it was just an animal, maybe it was like one of those giant Stark wolves in trouble and Dief thought he was Superwolf. Part of him thought maybe even it was Fraser, but his bark -- and yeah, Ray was kinda cracked if he was decifering wolf talk -- didn't sound like the happy kind. "Guess we'll see!"

Vecchio was getting the sinking feeling that he didn't want to see what it was that had set Dief off, but like it or not Dief had slowed down, even if he was still barking his head off -- if there was a woolly mammoth or a sabretooth tiger or a Sasquatch in the area it was going to be showing up any minute now -- and just through those trees up ahead they were going to see what was going on.

"Oh Jesus Christ," said Ray, glad he had his weapon drawn.

[the_cop]

Ray had been a cop for a long time but he had never seen anything like what was in front of him. There was so much blood, and the body...Jesus.

He tore his eyes away from the tree and pointed his gun at, shit, what was the guy's name? Andrew or something. Ray remembered him, creepy fuck.

"Get your fuckin' hands in the air. Now," he said, raising his voice over Dief's growls and barking.

[dishabille_mal]

"Oh, monologuing," Maladicta said. "That makes a lot of sense. Ahah, yes. Vampires are prone to that, aren't they? Well, the sporting ones. Back home, it's a bit less cut and-" She stopped, looking off the path they were traversing, deeper into the woods.

"That sounds... like trouble," she said, and exchanged a brief glance with Buffy. It was the last random patrol she'd be going on with the slayer. It was strange to finally have some action and not be there with Polly, but she knew the other woman was capable, and fast, and so she broke into a sprint without hesitation, moving gracefully through the snow, hand falling to her sword hilt.

The barking got louder and she heard yelling- she recognized Ray's voice- and came up short cresting a large fallen tree, covered in snow. She froze, one hand pressed against a standing tree, for what felt like an extremely long moment. It wasn't.

She stepped down from it, grasping her sword by its hilt, though she didn't pull it out.

"I wouldn't recommend running," she added, voice sharp and clear, and entirely steady and cold.

[scooby_leader]

It was almost foreign. Buffy was laughing. Maladictia was, herself, a vasmpire, if she understood, and to hear one go on about the others was... refreshing wasn't the right word, but it was close. And this woman was strong, smart, and daylight-friendly. What a combination.

Buffy's head cocked, fingers immediately flying to the hild of her thigh dagger. The smile was gone. She was the Slayer, again.

"I've heard trouble. That's capital trouble," and with the snark, she took off running, easily keeping up with Maladicta. If was as if she knew how bad it was, but she didn't, and she absolutely wasn't ready for what she saw.

The first thing she did see was Maladicta's face, already pale and seemingly stricken going about seven shades more serious of that. She figured there was nothing she hadn't faced, but there was a part of her that knew it was the same for Maladicta. What could it have possibly been to make her look like that.

And then she turned her head, and blanched. She heard a pep talk (probably from Giles) whirl through her head. She was the Slayer, she could handle the Slain, even when his chest was split wide, his feet dripping raw nothing onto the earth below, but his face was intact. A strong jaw that--

A gasp. For a moment, she was sure it had come from Maladicta, but the way her throat pinched indicated clearly that no, it had been from her own lips, lips that had touched the ones of the Slain so many times; lips that had touched the chest that was now wide open and gaping and the taste in her mouth beyond those lips was unbearable. A vampire wouldn't do this. Maybe some sort of Hellion would, though.

She edged toward the body, the site rank with death, and her face softened- no, crumbled. Faramir. Her Faramir, no matter where they were. Eyes glassy and distant, and God she'd seen those eyes look affected so many times. Who could do this?!

It wasn't a vampire. Or a Hellion. Or anything that went bump in any night. It was a man. A doctor that had helped her on one of her death-spars with Richard Riddick. He'd helped her! He was friends with Faramir.

Immediately, her hand shot past the hilt of her dagger to the waist on the back of her jeans where she pulled out the gun Jayne had given her. She never in a million millennia thought she'd use it for anything but target practice, but something rose in her, and there she was, whirling around and training the thing on this monster.

"Don't. Move." Her jaw was clenched so tight she thought it would fall off, tears shining in her eyes.

[andrejkoscuisko]

So he was discovered. So what? He was an Inquisitor, not liable for any offense less than treason against the Bench.

"But you are not in Jurisdiction Space," the voice in his head reminded him. "They will kill you."

Yes, he would die. Looking up, he saw four people. Two women, and the dark haired one spoke but he did not understand what she said. Was it Miss Blake? Yes, it must be. "Anita ..." he began, then stopped. What could he say?

The figure of Anita faded and Andrej realized he was hallucinating. He must be, for the other woman was his wife Marana. "I am sorry, Marana Seronkraalya, that I left you to defend our son. You will do so wonderfully, I know. You already have; he is perfect. I have not words to thank you." He paused unhappily. "Cousin Ferinc will continue to help you? I hope so. Let him comfort you as well." Another pause. "Be happy, Marana." She gave a small curtsy before she too faded.

Andrej looked at the two men. The first was the despicable Haister ... no, no longer. Andrej had seen to that. It had not been a formal Inquiry so Haister Girag was spared prison. Andrej simply allowed security the same freedom of Girag's body that Girag had taken, and the man shattered. Now he was Cousin Ferinc, a Malcontent and Marana's chosen reconciler in her husband's absence. Marana had her rights and there was nothing for Andrej to do about it. "Make her happy, Cousin Ferinc," Andrej said. "And my son. He loves you."

"Fear not, Your Excellency, your son will inherit," Ferinc responded and then smiled. "Blessings of the Saint upon you." He raised up his hand in benediction then faded.

The final figure caused Andrej to gasp. It was Joslire. But Joslire was dead and Andrej knew he was insane. When Joslire smiled, Andrej noticed that although Joslire was wearing his grey security uniform, there was no trace of green on his sleeves. Andrej smiled.

He had seen four people and a dog - no, a wolf. Now there was another, a child. It was Anton Andreievitch. He said, "I love you, Lord Father," in a voice filled with such affection that Andrej smiled.

In a moment Anton would see Faramir, would see his father for the monster he was, and Andrej was horrified. He turned, hoping to at least shield the body from his son's gaze. But the body wasn't Faramir's and he was no longer standing in a wood. He was in the streets of Port Burkhayden. The fire was a burning ground car and the body was Joslire with a hole where his abdomen should be. Sobbing, Andrej lifted the head from the ground.

Just as he had before, Joslire opened his eyes and looked at Andrej. This time he said, "Morning is come, Your Excellency." Although his body was ruined, he stood and helped Andrej to rise with him. Joslire looked into his eyes and said, "it is the Day.

Reaching for the mother-knife between Andrej's shoulder blades, Joslire loosed it from its sheath. With a kiss to speed the parting, he took the knife and drove it between the bones of his own left hand and pinned it to Andrej's right. Joslire looked directly into Andrej's eyes and, for the only time in his life, called him by his name. "Andrej, you are free."

XxX

Andrej had taken the mother-knife with his left hand and slowly staggered a few paces toward the fire. His right hand was up, almost as if he had held someone behind the neck for a kiss. In one smooth motion, Andrej pushed the knife through the back of his own right hand and into his throat. His dead body fell into the fire face-first.

[the_real_ray]

"Oh Jesus Christ," Ray said again and, making sure the others still all had their weapons drawn, put his away and moved forward to cautiously make sure the guy had really just offed himself. But then he was bleeding everywhere and on fire and that right there was a pretty good indication that he wasn't going to make it.

Ray might not exactly have been a model of bravery, but he had an example to set, so after a moment of waiting to see if the body was going to so much as twitch and turn that knife on him, he pulled it from the fire and, after dousing the flames with snow, checked for a pulse.

He didn't even have to say anything, just looked up at Kowalski and shook his head.

[the_cop]

Though Ray had been poised to shoot Andrew-what's-his-name in the head if he so much as moved he was not surprised when Vecchio confirmed the guy was dead.

"This is fucked up," he told Vecchio, pointing out the obvious.

He glanced at the tree that still held...Jesus, okay, it was Faramir, to Maladicta and Buffy. Fuck, this was just...fucked. Ray holstered his gun and wiped his palms against his pantlegs. He wished he'd been on patrol so Horatio would be here. Not that he wanted the other man to see this, but they were partners. He wanted Horatio to help him take care of this.

"C'mon," Ray said quietly and offered Vecchio a hand up.

[dishabille_mal]

Maladicta watched the doctor commit suicide with a tense, cold expression. Her eyes barely widened when he fell forward.

Well, that was bizarre. She didn't swallow and didn't shake, but she did drop her hand from its resting place at her hip and carefully positioned herself between Buffy and Faramir, first facing the deceased captain, mind racing, noneof it showing, then turning, almost warily, to face Buffy. The men could apparently handle themselves, but the blond girl looked about to snap.

[scooby_leader]

It wasn't that she'd never seen anything like it. Willow had stripped Warren of his flesh in a very similar way just shortly before she'd wound up on that island, it was just that... it has never been someone she cared about. Not like that.

She kept her gun on Andrej through the entire trip to Crazytown, so confused as he stumbled closer and closer to the fire because she didn't want to stop it. She didn't want him to be OK.

Ray checked the pulse and nodded to... the other Ray, and Buffy immediately tucked the gun back into her pants. She had shut off, and it was apparent in the way she stood ramrod straight and looked only straight ahead.

"His name is Faramir Hurin," she intoned, absolutely devoid of any semblance of human emotion.

[the_real_ray]

Ray accepted the hand up, for once without comment, and looked down at his jacket and pants, now stained with ash and blood. He hardly even saw this sorta thing back in Chicago, let alone here on Happy Happy Joy Joy Island.

"All right," he said, probably louder than he needed to be. The blonde one, Buffy, she looked like she needed something to do that wasn't stare at the body of her friend. "Let's do this one by the book. You two, go back to the compound. We're gonna need someone to examine these bodies, a doctor. And get one of the people from the lab up here, too. Maybe they can tell us what the fuck just happened here."

He looked back over at Kowalski and grimaced as he thought about what else they'd need to do.

[the_cop]

"Fuck, and tell somebody from the Council before they hear it from third-hand gossip. Vimes too, try to find him, or get somebody to find him," Ray added, avoiding Vecchio's and anybody elses gaze. He had never been good around bodies, certainly not bloody flayed bodies, and he kinda felt nauseous.

Bodies, fuck. Clearing his throat once, Ray finally looked over at the girls. "And we'll need sleds, blankets...gloves...to transport 'em. You don't gotta come back if you don't want to," he added, this last part to Buffy.

When he got a chance he knelt By Dief, a hand heavy on his head, and told the half-wolf to go get Horatio. "Good boy," Ray murmured before returning to Vecchio's side to wait.

[dishabille_mal]

Maladicta looked, in a word, dispassionate. If you wanted another word, you could have used 'uneffected', as well.

"I'll find Vimes," she said, "and a member of the council that isn't IPD as well. Buffy," she said, looking at the other woman, "Squints?"

She nodded, rather than saluted, to Ray and Ray, then nodded to Buffy as well and turned and headed off at a good speed through the snow for the compound.

She did not sprint. It was a careful decision on her part.

[scooby_leader]

Buffy back- thought it may have previously looked like it simply was not possible- went even straighter at the mere thought that she couldn't handle what was going on. She'd stabbed her true love and sent him to hell! She'd killed herself for her sister! She'd... done other really hard things! She could take her ex's brutal skinning alive and... other really hard things... Yeah.

"I'll come back when with the supplies, after I talk to the scientists," she insisted pointedly, her voice very cold and clipped. It was a shame Rays both V and K hadn't interracted with her outside of tragedies within the IPD. She really was a delightful little Slayergirl. "Maybe we should leave the scene where it is until after the squints check it out." See? She was cool. Fine.

Until she was alone, she was sure.