TPTB Ch. 9, Subject R. Tam.
Title: Subject R. Tam. (9/?)
Series: The Powers That Be
Author: Romanceguru
Disclaimer: Joss the boss of me.
Rating: R for heaps of immorality
Fandom: Firefly/Angel
Characters/pairing: Marcus/River.
Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing.
Summary: Marcus keeps to his promise and River is left waiting.
Notes: Same day as chapter 7, “ Witch”. Finally, I know! Don’t hate me. At least I didn’t give up entirely. : ) FYI, I’m half way through the next chapter and no longer feel stuck, so you won’t have to wait so long this time.
Eternal thanks and gratitude to my beta, elsibet34!
You can catch or brush up on previous chapters here.
The light was white hot, stinging her vision as she tripped over the numerous corpses littering the vacant streets. Bones, brittle from the harsh sun, snapped and crunched under her knees as she fell upon them. Scampering upright, she tried not to look at their faces, their hollowed eyes and mouths agape as they screamed nothing.
No matter where she turned, death surrounded her and she was drowning under the weight of their tragic secret; they had died alone, numb, and stripped of the joy they had once known. Men, women and children alike had given up, lay down weary, vacant, and surrendered to death, their will to live inexplicably vanquished.
Her body grew heavy as she roamed through the massive graveyard, sorrow thick and heavy in the pink-gray sky. The need to rest swept over her, lulling her into a docile haze, so she dropped down to her knees and pressed her body to the asphalt; the surface under her cheek, warm or cold, she could no longer discern. Finally, she understood their silent misery.
River sat up in bed, dazed and confused, before placing herself back in her surreal reality. The house was silent, and remnants from her dream left a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The dead often haunted her, filled her nights with their tattered and decrepit images, whispering fragments that turned her soul cold. Sometimes it felt so real, she feared she would be sucked into their world. That she would be forever lost in a sea of the living dead.
River pushed the heavy feeling away along with the blanket covering her. Looking down, she noticed she was still wearing the nightgown Marcus had torn in two the night before, her body still vulnerably exposed. Her naked flesh was a curious thing in this new light; the morning after near submission.
Closing her eyes, she traced her hand down the exposed path, imagining hands not her own, powerful and forbidden. The urge to bathe in his darkness was as overwhelming as ever. Something deep within was building, a cataclysmic storm the confines of her delicate skin could not contain.
Shrugging the flimsy gown off her shoulders, she slipped from the bed and grabbed her robe, pulling it over her goosed flesh. Walking through the house, she aimlessly searched the empty rooms for the one creature that could sedate her before she awoke fully.
---
Marcus sat outside a ritzy little café in the heart of Londinium city, watching vigilantly over the rim of his steaming cup of coffee for anything to catch his eye. The crisp morning air contrasted nicely with the hot, bitter liquid as it burned a trail down his throat.
It was still early and the city was just waking up, the savviest go-getters trickling out onto the sidewalks to make their way to work. The tips of the tall, angular and sleek buildings caught the gleam of the rising sun, leaving everything in-between cast in a shadowy blue.
Setting down his cup with a clink, he leaned back, observing the behavioral landscape around him. Sometimes he liked to watch, silently observe the poor souls for whatever limited entertainment they might provide him.
These humans were so completely self-contained, walking around bravely under a cloak of naivety. The false security this perfect, little world provided them was a farce Marcus eagerly waited behind.
All of their meticulous planning, plotting and scheming were a slow building climax to utter destruction and chaos. Small acts of malevolence paled to the release and satisfaction of causing entire races to wipe one another out.
The hairs throughout Marcus’ body stood on end at the pleasurable thought, the idea that he could defy and slowly twist human will against itself. Evil throughout many a dimension envied that level of power.
Smirking with pride, Marcus lifted his cup to his lips, watching as a woman passed by, gently pulling her small son along buy the hand. Skirting to the next scene with vague indifference, he observed the florist on the corner set a colorful arrangement on display ledge just outside his shop. Up the way, a man dropped an armful of books and then scurried to pick them up, only to have them tumble out of his arms a second time.
He had seen this all before, on different days, in different eras and moments in time. On rare occasion, one of them would catch him unaware by acting in a manner not so utterly intrinsic, interrupting centuries of mild boredom with a glimmer of unpredictability. Someone like River Tam.
Marcus’ thoughts drifted back to the image of River passed out on his bed before he left, curled in a little ball with wild strands of hair sticking to her face. She had looked so small and pathetic, tangled up in ripped clothing, her pale cheeks painted with dried tears. Tears he had caused.
Standing there, he had watched her from the doorway for nearly an hour. A speck of time measured against eternity, but far too long for the likes of someone like him. Her breath was shallow, barely even detectable. Sleep mirroring death. The sight sent a rare shiver up his spine and he couldn’t help but feel that she was the most beautiful mess he had ever seen.
It was then he knew he needed to rid himself of her. The girl was becoming dangerous to him in ways he never thought possible; craving her over the pain and suffering that was the vein of his existence.
Surely, proximity and confinement was to blame for this contamination. Pure evil did not form noxious bonds with disturbed little girls. Nor do they hesitate or second-guess as he did, for what he was about to do.
---
It was late in the day, the afternoon sun casting the grand staircase in a golden hue through the large window at the top. Marcus still had not returned, and she wondered if he would at all. Her fate was sealed. She was trapped on every level, in this prison or the next.
As River sat upon the cold, hard steps, she held out her arm, rotating it under the sunlight streaming in. Her skin was illuminated by the golden rays, translucent and bright, like an amber ghost. The longing to feel these colors on her skin was but a mere concept.
She was disconnecting from her former self. From the girl that felt everything, and before that, the one that had smiled and lived.
---
Marcus pushed through the clear, glass double doors and entered the clean, sleek lobby of the Blue Sun Corporation. Heads turned and curious eyes followed him to the receptionist’s desk, where he leaned on one elbow, and smiled cheekily at the receptionist.
The petite redhead straightened up and self-consciously smoothed back her hair as she exclaimed, “Mr. Hamilton! It’s been… I mean, we haven‘t had the pleasure of seeing you in the office in quite a while.” The pretty thing leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I thought you may have been exterminated.”
Marcus tried to suppress a laugh. So unaware these new hires were. “Not likely to happen. I’ve, ah, been out on assignment.” Reaching across the podium, he fingering her lapel and queried, “Heather, was it?”
The young woman’s eyes brightened. He had actually remembered her name. Licking her lips coyly, she nodded her head, transfixed by the creature’s magnetism. “What can I do for you, Sir?” She made the last words sound slow and deliberate, hoping to bait him in.
“I have a few things in mind.” Marcus flirted back, his voice rich and deep. He moved his large hand down the front of her blouse, his fingers lightly grazing the material and lingering a moment at the top button before he jerked his hand away abruptly and tapped his finger on the appointment book in front of her. “I’m scheduled to met with the Senior Partners in the conduit room at eleven a.m., sharp. Let them know I’ll be up promptly, will you?”
Heathers face fell, her fantasy turned almost reality, shattered. “Right. I’ll let them know you’re coming, Sir.”
“That’s a girl.” Marcus sent her sly grin, which had the woman blushing all over again, and was on his way.
As he passed by the waiting room to the elevators, he overheard two men talking in low, monotone voices. The suits were huddled close together, absorbed in their conversation. “We’ll arrive on Higgins Moon in less than a days time.”
“Are you positive the girl is with them? I doubt who ever broke her out of the institution is affiliated with Dr. Tam. You witnessed the body count.”
“We’ve exhausted all other measures. They will be found, searched, and disposed of. It’s best to eliminate all possible variables.”
Marcus cleared his throat, making himself known. The two stern looking men turned around and appraised Marcus up and down. Upon recognizing him as their superior, they nodded to him curtly.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You wouldn’t happen to be speaking about Subject 443/95/4521?”
“We were.” They both answered in unison, curiosity etched on their rubber faces.
“I think I may be able to help you.” Marcus checked his wristwatch. 10:39. Yes, this wouldn’t take long. “Right this way, gentlemen.” Gesturing to the elevators, Marcus followed in after them and pushed the button for the 13th floor.
As the three men stood in a neat, quiet row, elevator music played softly in the background. Marcus looked down at Mr. Stevenson’s and Mr. Wayneright’s folded hands and smirked. “Nice gloves.”
---
A clinking of metal awoke River from another horrid nightmare, sending her bolting upright in a panic. The vividness of her dream paralyzed her in a sweaty state of disorientation.
The men with blue hands were choking him again. Her Simon. Not with the blue, but red. He was on the ship like before, with the others. Faces familiar only in recurring dreams. There were all screaming in agony, asphyxiating in own their own blood.
River cringed at the messy visual, the horrid sound echoing in her head. Nausea and dizziness threatened her empty stomach. The reality of these images were so powerful, she had forgotten what had initially woke her.
The startling sound of heavy footsteps refreshed her memory a moment later. One or two pairs of them, she could not be sure. Cocking her head to the side, she listened attentively. Whoever they were had stopped at the base of the stairs and hesitated there.
River looked down at her hands. They were the color of skin. This would not do.
The screams continued to buzz in her head, making everything fuzzy. The sharp sound of dress shoes against marble grew louder, raising the hair on the back of her neck. The piercing noise, a countdown to her grim reality.
She could lie down. They lied down.
No. River shook her head. Run. Hide. Fight? Crawling from the bed just as they reached the doorway, she scanned the room quickly, assessing items and calculating their usefulness in less than a second. There was not even a moment to reflect on where she gained this new adeptness.
Plucking a heavy candleholder from the ledge of the fireplace, she spun against the wall, making her body flush just as the door creaked open. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, fighting the urge to melt into a trembling mess.
When she snapped them open, all breath left her. The candleholder hit the floor with a thud, her grip forgotten.
“Planning on taking me out, were you?” Looking at the object resting on the carpet, Marcus smiled. “Is that the best you can do?”
TBC…
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Next: Castle in the sky