drunkonhim
in
__vam
Just a Whore Chp. 34b
Title: Just a Whore
Summary: my personal spin on the movie "Pretty Woman". Ville is a young whore, trapped and searching for his saviour
Pairing: various, but mostly focused on Vam. there will be some surprise guests though
Disclaimer: i own nothing (except this story) and no one. please don't sue!
A/N: Not the end, I swear. But it is pretty damn close. We're almost done!
Previous Chapter: Chapter 34a
“You cannot seriously think that I am going to give him a free pass!” Cabot exclaims.
The captain had called her down here for her legal expertise, and now he was asking her to do something that could destroy her career. McCoy would never let her get away with something like this. Besides, she doesn’t even know what she’s gambling on here.
“Alex, he knew about Margera being taken from The Tombs. No one outside of this squad knows that. The fact that he does means that he was involved. He knows where Margera is and possibly where Ville may be.”
“That doesn’t mean that he can just walk away from what he’s done.”
“Alex, we have to start considering the possibility that everything Jonne told us was true. Mortensen, the child prostitution, the sex trafficking, all of it. Everything that we dismissed before can all be confirmed now.”
“At what cost, Don? If we let him walk, then I’m setting the precedent that anyone can bully their way through the legal system.”
“What we’re doing is potentially saving two lives and possibly more. I want justice for Jonne as well, but we’ve got to look at the lesser of two evils here. We could arrest Nödtveidt for this one crime, or we can find out everything he knows and put the real monster away for good.”
A full minute passes by as the two continue to stare each other down. Each of them had a goal here. Cabot wanted to uphold the law to the full extent and punish Emil for his crime. Cragen wanted to find justice for everyone in this situation. For Jonne, Ville, Bam, and whoever else may have been touched by Mortensen. In the end, Cabot knew that Cragen’s intentions outweighed her own. The older man was right. Whatever Emil could tell them potentially save multiple lives.
“You had better be right about this, Don,” she finally gives in. Taking one last deep breath turns to go back into the room.
“I hope so too.”
Emil is once again playing with his lighter when the two return. Looking up, he smiles almost sweetly to the ADA.
“That was quick,” he smirks. “Have you made up your mind?”
“…We’re willing to negotiate on your terms,” she relents. The tone in her voice easily gives away her discontent over the situation.
“Good,” Emil laughs. “Now what would you like to know?”
“First things first. Who do you work for?” Cragen asks.
“Would you like a drum roll, or should I just answer?” The Swede laughs, though the others do not. “You people have no sense of humor.”
“Mr. Nödtveidt,” his lawyer speaks.
“Fine…. I work for Viggo Mortensen Jr., but you already figured that, didn’t you?”
“How long have you worked for Mortensen?”
“Nearly four years,” he answers. “A few months after my friends and I came here, he recruited us into working for him in what he called ‘private security.’ I mostly drove him around and did little errands for him. After a while, we got to see what Mortensen’s little hobby was.”
“Care to share?” Cragen asks.
“Mortensen owns a couple of abandoned warehouse along the Hudson. One night, I was sent over with Andreas to help unload a ‘shipment.’ As it turns out, that shipment was a truckload of young boys. Mortensen has had an interesting set up in the warehouse. He has a group of about thirty or so boys living in the warehouse. Some are trafficked, most are just runaways. He keeps the young ones locked up there during the day and arranges them to do private parties. When they turn eighteen, one of two things happen; either he deems them useless and gets rid of them, or he sets them up in slum apartments and has them working the streets.”
“You can verify this?” Cabot asks.
“I can take you directly to the warehouse,” he nods. “Though its in a new location now. I might have to make a few calls first.”
“Helping trick out little boys…,” Cabot sighs. “What would your mother think of you now?”
“My older brother is a Satanist in jail for murder. I think I’m the least of her worries right now.”
“What about Jonne and Ville?” Cragen speaks, trying to stay focused. “How do they play into all of this?”
“From what I’ve heard, Jonne and Ville have been with Mortensen since they were kids. I’m not sure how long, though. I make it a rule not to get too close to the whores.”
“Why did Mortensen target them? Why did he want them dead?”
“Well, that’s the thing. He didn’t really want them dead,” he sighs. “If you ask him, he’ll say that he had been forced to do it. You see, after all of these years I’ve learned one thing: Viggo is a selfish, spoiled brat. He needs things done his way, and God help anyone who touches one of his things.”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, look at Ville. He and Jonne were Mortensen’s favorite for some reason. A few weeks ago, Ville begins to act strange, so he pulls that kid Bill into giving him information-”
“Bill was snitching for Viggo?”
“That’s right,” the Swede nods. “The kid must have had a soft spot for them, though, because he didn’t say much at first. Then, one day, that article about Bam doing it to a male hooker comes out and Mortensen gets a call that Jonne and Ville are planning to skip town with their beaus. Viggo doesn’t like that, so he decides that he needs to be punished. Jonne comes to you guys for help, then he needs to be punished as well.”
“What about Bam?” Cabot asks. “Who took him?”
“That would be Officer Christian Bale. One of the many cops that Viggo has been paying off for years.”
“How many others are there?”
“A lot more,” he laughs. “I’ll give you the full list later.”
“Where did he take Bam?”
“The same place where he dumped Ville.”
“So Ville is still alive, then?” The captain asks hopefully.
“He was when we moved him. Can’t say now, though.”
“Where are they?”
“…Before I tell you, I want one more thing.”
“You’re demanding a free pass. What more could you possibly want from us?” Cabot demands to know. Emil almost laughs when he sees a hint of emotion on her otherwise blank face.
“…I want to take Andreas’ body back to Sweden. I want to give him a proper burial.”
“Who knew that there was honor among thieves,” she quips.
“Say what you want, you cold bitch,” he seethes. “Andreas was my friend…. He deserves that much.”
“We can work something out,” Cragen tells him. “Just tell us where Ville and Bam are.”
“There’s a club in Upper Manhattan, just outside of the Bronx called The Inferno. Viggo owns it. It’s set up as a goth nightclub, but in the back and basements there is a hardcore S&M club. They keep people bound for torture in the lower basements. That’s where you’ll find Ville. Viggo most likely took Bam there as well…. If you hurry now, you may be able to find their bodies before they’re thrown into the Hudson.”
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Ville (POV)
I can’t stand it anymore. The heat, it’s excruciating. I know that it’s not the room, because the stone cold floor is the only relief that I’m receiving. It’s my body. The fever I was running before seems to have taken a turn for the worst. My skin feels as if it’s on fire and the sweat is dripping from my body. I’m just laying here on the stone floor, too weak to even try to move when I hear the thudding of footsteps near my door again. I had used my last little bit of energy earlier when I took off Andreas’ coat. I didn’t want to part with the garment, but it felt as if I was in a sauna. I couldn’t bare to keep it on.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since I was thrown back into this room. After Bauer killed Andreas, I dissolved into sobs, crying for my friend until I passed out. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I awoke, my skin was tight, my chest was heaving, and I felt as if I was burning alive. Since then, I have been in and out of consciousness. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, but I’m beginning to lose the will to try. What was the point of it anymore? I want to die. It would be a far alternative than continuing on in this hell, trapped in this painful state and overwhelmed by the guilt of Andreas’ death. It would be so easy to just close my eyes and drift away. Every time I close my eyes, though, all I can see is the vacant stare of Andy’s blue eyes. The vision is burned into my mind and not even the delusions accompanying this fever will make it go away.
There are the sounds of muddled voices coming from outside the door again. I let my head roll on its side in the direction of it, but the motion only causes my vision to blur. If someone was coming for me, I wouldn’t know. I doubt it, though. Since I was thrown back in here everyone has left me alone. No one has even come in to feed me or force me to drink. I suppose they think it wasteful, considering the state I’m in…. I know that I’m not going to last much longer. It’s only a matter of when now.
More sounds invade my ears, making my head pound. Pressing my warm cheek on the cold floor, I try my best to find some sort of relief, but the throbbing pain continues on. The sound of a lock turning is amplified greatly, signaling that someone is coming into my little cell, but I don’t bother to move. I don’t even bother to keep my eyes focused. I just didn’t have the strength to care about any of it anymore.
The door slowly opens and I have to wince as the light pouring into the room burns my retinas. Other than that, I am completely still and silent as I see the blurry shapes of three figures walking into the room. The sounds that accompany them are loud, making my head feel as if it was being smashed by a hammer. I want all of the noise to stop, but I haven’t the strength to vocalize my plea. The best I can muster is a wheezing noise that escapes from my parted lips. The result is the opposite of what I wanted. The noise, the voices, just grow louder. I can’t make out what the hell anyone is saying, but I’m not sure if I even want to. All I want is to be free of this pain, free of this burning, throbbing agony.
I soon feel the pressure of something-- perhaps fingertips-- on my cheek. The touch was light, but I hiss at the contact. The calloused skin touching me feels like a thousand pins and needles pricking me. I think that I try to move away from it, but all I can manage is a small shake before my head rolls to the side.
“…ille….. Baby…. ake up.”
The fingers touching my cheek gently turns my head so that I’m looking upwards. Everything is spinning, though. I can somewhat make out a figure above me, but everything is too blurred for me to make out the person’s face. The thought that this could be someone here to finish me off occurs to me, but I’m not saddened by it…. I’m actually relieved. This is the end now. No more pain, no more nightmares, no more guilt or sadness. I’m finally going to be free. So with that last hopeful thought, I smile and let my eyes close gently. The world turns black around me.
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Third Person (POV)
Bam couldn’t control the screams of pain as Viggo dragged him out of the room by his broken wrist. The other man’s hand held onto his injured wrist in a crushing grip, his blunt nails digging into the skin. The skater tried his best to wrench away, but the more he tried, the tighter Viggo’s grip became. Bam was accustomed to broken bones and serious injuries, but even this was becoming too much, even for him.
For the pimp, the sound of Bam’s screams was music to his ears. Each piercing cry sent waves of pleasure washing through Viggo’s body, making him want to grip tighter until he crushed the fragile bones into dust. Viggo had always been one to get off on other people’s pain-- it had always filled him with that gratifying sense of power and control-- but he had never felt such absolute joy in it before. To know that he was inflicting pain upon the bastard who had destroyed everything was the ultimate high for him. It won’t be long now until he feels complete euphoria. Soon, he’ll be able to watch not only the life bleed out of Bam, but he’ll be able to witness the heartache in Ville’s eyes as his lover dies. This son of a bitch took away the most important things in his life. It’s time he learns what happens when he touches someone else’s property.
“Trying to frighten the whole floor, Viggo?”
Still whimpering in pain, Bam looks up and through teary eyes sees another man standing in the corridor. The man is standing there nonchalantly with his hands behind his back and a bored expression on his face. For a moment, Bam is almost afraid that this man is going to attack him as well, but he makes no motion towards the other two men. Instead, the man just stands there, calmly waiting as Viggo drags Bam closer to him.
“They’re used to it, David,” Viggo deadpans.
The man comes to an abrupt stop, causing Bam to stumble into him. Panting in fear, Bam pulls away from the older man. This time, Viggo released the skater’s wrist, causing him to fall to the ground. The fall sends a new wave of pain shooting through Bam’s ribs and he must bite his lip to keep from crying out. The action seems to work, though he can now taste the coppery liquid on his tongue.
“Is this the one?” The man standing next to Viggo asks. The pimp just responds with a grunt and a nod. “Hm…. Not what I expected. For some reason, I thought he would be taller.”
“Just imagine my surprise,” Viggo agrees. “To think, this is what he chose.”
The pimp looks over his shoulder to see the skater still lying on the floor, clutching at his side. There are tears streaming down his face and mucus coming from his nostrils. The more he looks at the other man’s pathetic form, the angrier he becomes. The Finn had chosen this sniveling little brat over him. What the fuck was so special about him anyway? He was loud, rude, and stupid beyond belief. Viggo just couldn’t believe that Ville’s judgment was this poor. It serves him right then. Everything that has happened, he has brought upon himself.
“Shall we get on with the show, then?” The other man asks as he pulls a ring of keys from his jacket pocket.
Viggo steps back to allow Bauer to unlock the door. Turning back, he finds Bam staring up at him with frightened eyes. With a malicious smile spreading across his lips, Viggo reaches down and grabs the skater’s hair. The pimp yanks Bam up by his hair, tearing out some of the roots in the process. The skater cries and tries to scratch at the other man’s hand, but it’s doing nothing to deter him. If anything, it only amuses Viggo. Honestly, he expected much more fight out of Bam. Right now he’s just acting like one of his pathetic whores.
The sound of a lock clicking catches Bam’s attention and he freezes. Blue eyes shoot towards the metal door in front of him. What was behind the door? Was Viggo going to lock him into another room and finish him off there? Or was he just going to leave Bam there to rot?
“Before you begin, can I interest you in any tools from the treasure chest?” Bauer asks, cocking his eyebrow at Viggo. “We’ve just received a knew power drill for the collection. Perfect for drilling into the kneecaps.”
“Cut the salesmen bullshit, David,” Viggo growls. “You know I prefer bare hands.”
“…W- what the fuck are you going to do?” Bam timidly speaks up. All of this talk of potential torture has him scared to death. He’s already pissed himself once, and it seems that he may do so again.
“I’m giving you what you deserve, Bam,” Viggo answers.
Without another word, Viggo pushes open the metal door, allowing the dim light from the corridor to pour into the darkened room. Bam holds his breath as he looks into the cell-like room. That was it. Viggo was going to kill him in this room. The pimp was going to murder Bam, and nothing, not his money, his friends, his fame, could save him from this. The name and reputation that he’s built for himself over the years and the benefits of his fame was all meaningless now. The man who made a career of doing whatever the fuck he wanted was going to die alone and afraid here in this dark cell.
“…What the hell is this!?” Viggo suddenly growls and releases his hold on Bam.
The skater falls forward onto his knees, bracing himself with his good hand. Confused, the skater turns and sees Viggo leaning in on Bauer, a vicious snarl on his face.
“I gave you very specific instructions,” the pimp hisses.
“Don’t look at me,” Bauer shrugs calmly. “He did that to himself. We cleaned him up the best we could, but as you can see our efforts to save lives are mostly futile. This isn’t a damn hospital, Viggo.”
What the fuck are they talking about? Bam should be happy that Viggo has forgotten him momentarily, but he’s scared as to what has gotten Viggo even more angry. As the two men stare each other down, Bam begins to frantically examine the doorway. There was just enough space behind Viggo for him to be able to slip out. Though his body hurts like holy hell, Bam believes that he might be able to make a run for it. It just might be able to work…. Before he can begin to crawl towards the opening, though, he hears the sound of a soft wheeze coming from the room.
The skater’s heart freezes at the sound. Someone else was in the room. Very slowly, he begins to turn his head in the direction of the noise. The first thing that Bam sees are pale, dirty legs laying on the ground. His eyes follow the legs up to a creamy white torso, but they freeze when they land on the black markings of a tattoo…. It was Ville’s heartagram. Gasping, Bam’s eyes quickly flash to the person’s face and he’s met with vacant, dull green eyes.
“Ville!”
All thoughts of escape forgotten, Bam quickly crawls over to Ville’s naked body. Tears are beginning to well up in his eyes again, but this time it is a different kind of fear gripping him. When he’s at his lover’s side, he holds his breath and waits for some kind of recognition from the Finn. Ville isn’t moving, though. His eyes are still focused on the spot where he once was. Terrified, Bam reaches out a shaky hand to place on Ville’s chest. The skin was warm to the touch, but that wasn’t what Bam was concerned about. After a few nerve-wracking seconds, Bam finally feels the Finn’s faint heartbeat. He didn’t know what was wrong with Ville, but he was elated just knowing that his lover was still alive.
“V- Ville,” Bam can’t stop the tremble in his voice as he calls softly to Ville. The Finn is still unresponsive.
With his limbs still trembling, Bam slowly reaches out and touches his index finger to Ville’s smooth cheek. The skater almost flinches as the other man finally makes a motion. Ville let out a small groan and very softly shook his head before just letting it roll to the side. Biting his lip, Bam tries his best to fight back the tears as he turns Ville’s head. The green eyes he loves so much are looking in his direction, but they’re not focusing on him. The stare is distant and vacant.
“Ville,” he whispers his name, stroking his cheek gently. “Baby, wake up.”
The skater’s fingers continue to delicately stroke Ville’s cheek, but the Finn is unresponsive. After a moment, the corner’s of Ville’s lips twitch upward, giving the tiniest hint of a smile. Bam’s eyes widen, thinking that Ville has finally recognized him. His elated quickly turns to heartache, though. The Finn’s green eyes roll back and slowly his eyelids close.
“Ville,” Bam whispers his name again. Ville doesn’t stir, though.
Fearing the worst, Bam leans down and puts his ear to Ville’s face. He’s overcome with relief when he hears that the Finn is still breathing, but it’s very shallow.
“Ville, baby, please wake up,” the skater cries. “Please, Ville…. Baby, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I know. Just please open your eyes. Please.”
The skater continues to plead to the unconscious man as he strokes his hair back. He whispers over and over words of apology and begs for the other man to open his eyes. Ville is unresponsive, though. Desperate, Bam begins to plead to God for the Finn to wake up. It doesn’t matter whether he makes it out or not, he just wants Ville to be spared. Ville didn’t deserve any of this. It was Bam’s fault, Ville shouldn’t have to pay for his mistakes.
“Get your fucking hands off him,” a voice growls from behind.
Before Bam can turn around, a hand grabs him once more by the hair and throws him to the ground. The skater gasps at the pain, but he pushes it to the back of his mind once he sees Viggo kneeling down over Ville’s body. The pimp’s face is contorted into a vicious scowl, giving away his anger over the situation. It was the first time that Bam had seen any real emotion on the other man’s naturally stoic face. His brows are furrowed and his cold eyes are narrowed as they examine Ville’s unconscious form.
Viggo’s large hand reaches out suddenly and grabs Ville’s arm. The pimp holds the sleeping man tightly by his forearm as he raises it in the air.
“What the fuck is this!?” He screams. Bam jumps, but he realizes that the other man wasn’t talking to him. The object of his rage is leaning against the doorway, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I told you, he did that to himself,” Bauer shrugs. “Some half-ass attempt to kill himself.”
What? Ville had tried to kill himself? Bam is shocked by the idea that Ville would give up like that. Yes, the man did have a morbidly cynical mind, but Bam thought that he had a fighting spirit…. Did he really lose all hope like that? The skater looks to the arm Viggo is still holding in the air. When he sees what it is that Viggo was talking about, he almost gags.
Ville’s wrist is a fucking mess. The skin was an ugly red color and it swollen horribly. There were deep marks surrounding black stitches near the pulse point on his wrist. It takes Bam a second to realize that the wounds were teeth marks. Ville had tried to bite through his wrist like some kind of animal. The thought alone is enough to raise bile from Bam’s throat. He tries his best to swallow it down, but it’s hard as he continues to stare at the wound. When Viggo’s hand squeezes Ville’s skin, a thick white puss begins to ooze from the torn skin and this time, Bam can’t keep his sickness inside.
The heaving of the skater goes ignored as Viggo continues to stare Bauer down. It is a wonder as to why he isn’t beating the man’s skull in already. He had given him very specific instructions. Under no circumstances was Ville allowed to die! Ville’s punishment was to be kept here, alive and breathing, until the day Viggo found it in his heart to release him or until he died of old age. It had barely been a week!
“Why were his hands free?” Viggo snarls.
“The position you left him in would have torn his muscles eventually. His neck was still chained, so I didn’t see the harm in letting his hands free. The thought that he would gnaw through his own flesh never occurred to me.”
Viggo furiously threw Ville’s limp arm back on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he runs his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. It doesn’t work, though. Viggo Mortensen is a man who needs to be in control. Whether it be his emotions, his workers, or his business, he always needed absolute power over the situation. The moment he realized that he could capture the punk skater, he had a very well thought out plan. He would set Bam up as Jonne and Ville’s attacker, have the skater abducted after he was released from jail, making everyone think that he had gone on the run, and then he would kill him in front of Ville. It was the perfect punishment, but now all of his plans were in shambles…. He had lost control.
“…How long has he been like this?” Viggo asks, his eyes still narrowed at Bauer.
“He wasn’t looking so hot when your Swede came to bust him out last night. The infection must have spread since then…. Whatever you’re planning to do, you had better get on with it. I’d say that he’s not going to make it past the next hour.”
“Get out!” Viggo barks. Bauer just gives a curt nod and leaves the room.
Viggo is panting heavily now, the rage inside of him reaching its breaking point. Ville was going to die. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the thought breaks his heart. It hurts, because he meant what he had said to Bam before. He’s known Ville since the boy was fifteen. In all of those years with him, he’d fallen so in love with him that he wanted the young man in his life forever. If he couldn’t have Ville with him before, then the only option he had was to lock him away here, where he would never be able to escape from Viggo…. Now his Ville was slipping away. Viggo didn’t want to accept it, but there was nothing he could do.
Suddenly, everything inside of Viggo snaps. Pulling his own hair by the roots, Viggo lets out a frustrated scream, one that could be heard throughout this torture chamber. Snarling like a beast, his dark eyes fall on the shaking skater. Bam is staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, his jaw dropped slightly. Viggo stares the punk down, curling his fists into tight balls. His chest is heaving now as he waits. He’s the lion about to pounce, the cobra about to strike. All he’s waiting for is for Bam to make one little move. It comes when Bam’s eyes quickly shift from Viggo to Ville. That was all the pimp needed before he strikes.
Viggo kicks Bam in the stomach, knocking the younger man flat on his back. Bam begins to cough and he once again tastes blood on his tongue. Viggo is standing over him before he can make sense of what is happening. The man kicks him again and again, rolling him over onto his stomach from the force of it. Viggo reaches down and grabs Bam by the back of his neck in a crushing grip before he lifts him up. Screaming once more, Viggo slams Bam into the concrete wall face-first. The skater’s knees are giving out beneath him, but Viggo’s hold on him keeps him from falling.
“This was all supposed to be so simple, Bam,” Viggo hisses in his ear, squeezing the young man tighter. “He was supposed to watch as I beat you to death. You were supposed to listen to him scream and beg.”
“D- don’t hurt him,” Bam pleads.
“He’s already dying, you idiot!” Viggo throws Bam into the wall again, watching with mild amusement as the skater hits his temple and falls to the ground.
The skater groans in pain from the ground. Out of instinct, he curls his body into a protective ball, but his eyes remain on Ville’s body. All he can think of-- besides the blinding pain-- is that Ville, his sweet, beautiful Ville, is dying. It’s not fair…. Ville is the sweetest person that Bam has ever known. It’s not his fault that he was tricked into this lifestyle, trapped under the control of a psychopath. It’s not right that such a beautiful and wonderful life is going to be cut short while monsters like Viggo were free to roam. Where was the justice in all of this? Why should Ville have to die for loving him?
“You did this to him, Bam,” Viggo’s voice cuts him like a knife. The tip of Viggo’s shoe comes under Bam’s chin, tapping it so that the skater will look upwards towards him. The glare the older man is sending him sends a shiver down his spine.
“You did this,” he repeats. “Everything that has happened to Ville, it is because of you.”
Bam couldn’t speak, but he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to at this point. What Viggo is saying to him now is nothing new. His guilty conscience has been screaming those same words for days. He knows that it was his fault and he’ll never forgive himself for it…. But he’ll never be sorry for loving Ville. Bam will never apologize for the way Ville made him feel. Knowing the Finn has been the best thing of Bam’s life and no one could take that away from him.
“This is what happens when you touch what doesn’t belong to you,” the pimp growls as he kneels down to look Bam in the eyes. “This is what happen when you touch my things.”
Hearing that word made something inside of Bam snap. He felt a familiar anger returning inside of him and suddenly, his old, defiant attitude was filling him again. Without thinking, Bam’s good hand balls into a fist and strikes at Viggo, catching him off guard. Genuinely shocked, Viggo puts his hand to his cheek where he feels a heat flaring up. The little shit just hit him…. Another time and Viggo may have been impressed by his ballsy move.
“Ville is not a thing!” Bam screams. His breath is coming out in a wheeze, but he works through the pain. “He is not your fucking property. He’s a person, with a heart, a soul, and a family. He’s not something that you can control. He and Jonne, they were too good for you…. You’re fucking delusional if you ever thought that he would love you. It’s sad that you’ll never know how much he hated you.”
“…Is that so?”
Viggo’s jaw is clenched so tightly that it’s trembling. The skater doesn’t know it, but he’s just managed to do the impossible, something that only one other person has ever done. He’s hurt Viggo. With his words, Bam has managed to cut through Viggo’s black soul. The pimp is on top of him in the blink of an eye. Bam tries to thrash beneath him, but the man is too large and his weight is pressing down on his broken ribs. Viggo’s fist punch Bam’s face so hard that when he pulls back he finds that his knuckles are bleeding. The eye instantly begins to swell, obscuring Bam’s vision.
All air supply is suddenly cut off as Bam feels two hands around his throat. This wasn’t like the grip before where the man was just trying to keep him submissive. This was a death grip. Viggo’s thumbs were digging into his trachea, cutting his skin with his blunt nails. He can faintly hear the snarling breath of the man above him, but he can’t focus on it. Bam’s survival instincts are kicking in, telling him to trash and fight, but he can’t. The way Viggo has him pinned to the ground keeps his legs immobilized and his arms are laying uselessly beside him. All he can do now is wait for either all of the air to leave his lungs or for his neck to snap.
With what may be the last coherent thought in his mind, Bam reaches out his right hand and searches the ground. His fingertips brush against warm skin and he knows that he’s found what he was looking for. As his blue eyes begin to roll in the back of his head, his hand grasps Ville’s. If he was going to die, then he was at least going to touch his love one last time.
“Mortensen!”
Viggo’s body visibly jolts at the sound of a foreign voice screaming his name. Keeping his hold on Bam’s throat, Viggo peeks over his shoulder, spotting four people with bullet-proof vests aiming their guns at him. Well… this was unexpected.
“Mortensen, let him go!” One of the cops demands. “It’s over now.”
Indeed it was over. Everything that Viggo has spent years building is now coming crashing down around his feet. In a few moments, all that he has worked so hard for will be gone and he’ll be left with nothing; no more power, no more control. If he was going to go down, though, he was going to make damn sure that the person who caused all of this goes down with him. Turning his head back, Viggo ignores the screams of the cops and continues to choke the life out of Bam. The skater’s mouth was open, gasping like a fish thrown onto dry land. He squeezes tighter, determined to see the light leave Bam’s eyes.
“Do not make me have to shoot you!”
Viggo ignores the man. If he shoots him, then he shoots him. It didn’t matter to Viggo anymore. All he cared about now was making sure that Bam would die. He squeezes tighter, feeling the veins beneath his fingers and the pulse point on Bam’s neck throbbing wildly. A rattling noise escapes from the back of Bam’s throat, but the bastard still won’t die!
A deafening bang erupts through the room and pain slices through Viggo’s shoulder. The bastards had actually shot him, he thinks as a white hot, burning sensation flares from his shoulder. The pimp howls like a wounded animal, but he doesn’t release his hold on Bam. Finally, the skater’s eyes close.
Arms come around Viggo, throwing him off of Bam and onto the floor. The cop who had thrown him wrestles him down, pinning his arms behind his back. Viggo isn’t upset, though, and he almost startles the cop when he begins to laugh. They honestly think that they’ve stopped him? No…. Viggo may be losing this battle, but he’ll never be stopped. After all, he was a wealthy man. Wealthy men don’t do hard time. Even so, he’s also laughing because he’s finally destroyed that smug little bastard. He’s finally gotten his vengeance.
“Liv, call a medic,” the cop on top of him shouts.
A female detective drops down beside the two unconscious men. She quickly puts her fingers to Ville’s neck, feeling for a heartbeat. It’s there, but it is slowly fading. She repeats the process on Bam, but she can’t find anything. She shouts the order to the cops behind her to call the paramedics before she begins CPR.
“Come on, Bam,” he mutters, on the verge of completely losing it. “Stay with me.”
Olivia Benson continues administering CPR to the skater, but it isn’t yielding any results. She keeps trying, determined not to let the young man die. Chaos is erupting around her as the SWAT team raids the other rooms of the lower basement. People are screaming in pain, shouting orders, and running through the halls. Through all of the madness, though, the sound she can make out most clearly is Viggo’s laughter.
“Stay with me, Bam…. Stay with me.”
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Comments are love ^_^
Summary: my personal spin on the movie "Pretty Woman". Ville is a young whore, trapped and searching for his saviour
Pairing: various, but mostly focused on Vam. there will be some surprise guests though
Disclaimer: i own nothing (except this story) and no one. please don't sue!
A/N: Not the end, I swear. But it is pretty damn close. We're almost done!
Previous Chapter: Chapter 34a
“You cannot seriously think that I am going to give him a free pass!” Cabot exclaims.
The captain had called her down here for her legal expertise, and now he was asking her to do something that could destroy her career. McCoy would never let her get away with something like this. Besides, she doesn’t even know what she’s gambling on here.
“Alex, he knew about Margera being taken from The Tombs. No one outside of this squad knows that. The fact that he does means that he was involved. He knows where Margera is and possibly where Ville may be.”
“That doesn’t mean that he can just walk away from what he’s done.”
“Alex, we have to start considering the possibility that everything Jonne told us was true. Mortensen, the child prostitution, the sex trafficking, all of it. Everything that we dismissed before can all be confirmed now.”
“At what cost, Don? If we let him walk, then I’m setting the precedent that anyone can bully their way through the legal system.”
“What we’re doing is potentially saving two lives and possibly more. I want justice for Jonne as well, but we’ve got to look at the lesser of two evils here. We could arrest Nödtveidt for this one crime, or we can find out everything he knows and put the real monster away for good.”
A full minute passes by as the two continue to stare each other down. Each of them had a goal here. Cabot wanted to uphold the law to the full extent and punish Emil for his crime. Cragen wanted to find justice for everyone in this situation. For Jonne, Ville, Bam, and whoever else may have been touched by Mortensen. In the end, Cabot knew that Cragen’s intentions outweighed her own. The older man was right. Whatever Emil could tell them potentially save multiple lives.
“You had better be right about this, Don,” she finally gives in. Taking one last deep breath turns to go back into the room.
“I hope so too.”
Emil is once again playing with his lighter when the two return. Looking up, he smiles almost sweetly to the ADA.
“That was quick,” he smirks. “Have you made up your mind?”
“…We’re willing to negotiate on your terms,” she relents. The tone in her voice easily gives away her discontent over the situation.
“Good,” Emil laughs. “Now what would you like to know?”
“First things first. Who do you work for?” Cragen asks.
“Would you like a drum roll, or should I just answer?” The Swede laughs, though the others do not. “You people have no sense of humor.”
“Mr. Nödtveidt,” his lawyer speaks.
“Fine…. I work for Viggo Mortensen Jr., but you already figured that, didn’t you?”
“How long have you worked for Mortensen?”
“Nearly four years,” he answers. “A few months after my friends and I came here, he recruited us into working for him in what he called ‘private security.’ I mostly drove him around and did little errands for him. After a while, we got to see what Mortensen’s little hobby was.”
“Care to share?” Cragen asks.
“Mortensen owns a couple of abandoned warehouse along the Hudson. One night, I was sent over with Andreas to help unload a ‘shipment.’ As it turns out, that shipment was a truckload of young boys. Mortensen has had an interesting set up in the warehouse. He has a group of about thirty or so boys living in the warehouse. Some are trafficked, most are just runaways. He keeps the young ones locked up there during the day and arranges them to do private parties. When they turn eighteen, one of two things happen; either he deems them useless and gets rid of them, or he sets them up in slum apartments and has them working the streets.”
“You can verify this?” Cabot asks.
“I can take you directly to the warehouse,” he nods. “Though its in a new location now. I might have to make a few calls first.”
“Helping trick out little boys…,” Cabot sighs. “What would your mother think of you now?”
“My older brother is a Satanist in jail for murder. I think I’m the least of her worries right now.”
“What about Jonne and Ville?” Cragen speaks, trying to stay focused. “How do they play into all of this?”
“From what I’ve heard, Jonne and Ville have been with Mortensen since they were kids. I’m not sure how long, though. I make it a rule not to get too close to the whores.”
“Why did Mortensen target them? Why did he want them dead?”
“Well, that’s the thing. He didn’t really want them dead,” he sighs. “If you ask him, he’ll say that he had been forced to do it. You see, after all of these years I’ve learned one thing: Viggo is a selfish, spoiled brat. He needs things done his way, and God help anyone who touches one of his things.”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, look at Ville. He and Jonne were Mortensen’s favorite for some reason. A few weeks ago, Ville begins to act strange, so he pulls that kid Bill into giving him information-”
“Bill was snitching for Viggo?”
“That’s right,” the Swede nods. “The kid must have had a soft spot for them, though, because he didn’t say much at first. Then, one day, that article about Bam doing it to a male hooker comes out and Mortensen gets a call that Jonne and Ville are planning to skip town with their beaus. Viggo doesn’t like that, so he decides that he needs to be punished. Jonne comes to you guys for help, then he needs to be punished as well.”
“What about Bam?” Cabot asks. “Who took him?”
“That would be Officer Christian Bale. One of the many cops that Viggo has been paying off for years.”
“How many others are there?”
“A lot more,” he laughs. “I’ll give you the full list later.”
“Where did he take Bam?”
“The same place where he dumped Ville.”
“So Ville is still alive, then?” The captain asks hopefully.
“He was when we moved him. Can’t say now, though.”
“Where are they?”
“…Before I tell you, I want one more thing.”
“You’re demanding a free pass. What more could you possibly want from us?” Cabot demands to know. Emil almost laughs when he sees a hint of emotion on her otherwise blank face.
“…I want to take Andreas’ body back to Sweden. I want to give him a proper burial.”
“Who knew that there was honor among thieves,” she quips.
“Say what you want, you cold bitch,” he seethes. “Andreas was my friend…. He deserves that much.”
“We can work something out,” Cragen tells him. “Just tell us where Ville and Bam are.”
“There’s a club in Upper Manhattan, just outside of the Bronx called The Inferno. Viggo owns it. It’s set up as a goth nightclub, but in the back and basements there is a hardcore S&M club. They keep people bound for torture in the lower basements. That’s where you’ll find Ville. Viggo most likely took Bam there as well…. If you hurry now, you may be able to find their bodies before they’re thrown into the Hudson.”
*********************************************************************
Ville (POV)
I can’t stand it anymore. The heat, it’s excruciating. I know that it’s not the room, because the stone cold floor is the only relief that I’m receiving. It’s my body. The fever I was running before seems to have taken a turn for the worst. My skin feels as if it’s on fire and the sweat is dripping from my body. I’m just laying here on the stone floor, too weak to even try to move when I hear the thudding of footsteps near my door again. I had used my last little bit of energy earlier when I took off Andreas’ coat. I didn’t want to part with the garment, but it felt as if I was in a sauna. I couldn’t bare to keep it on.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since I was thrown back into this room. After Bauer killed Andreas, I dissolved into sobs, crying for my friend until I passed out. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I awoke, my skin was tight, my chest was heaving, and I felt as if I was burning alive. Since then, I have been in and out of consciousness. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, but I’m beginning to lose the will to try. What was the point of it anymore? I want to die. It would be a far alternative than continuing on in this hell, trapped in this painful state and overwhelmed by the guilt of Andreas’ death. It would be so easy to just close my eyes and drift away. Every time I close my eyes, though, all I can see is the vacant stare of Andy’s blue eyes. The vision is burned into my mind and not even the delusions accompanying this fever will make it go away.
There are the sounds of muddled voices coming from outside the door again. I let my head roll on its side in the direction of it, but the motion only causes my vision to blur. If someone was coming for me, I wouldn’t know. I doubt it, though. Since I was thrown back in here everyone has left me alone. No one has even come in to feed me or force me to drink. I suppose they think it wasteful, considering the state I’m in…. I know that I’m not going to last much longer. It’s only a matter of when now.
More sounds invade my ears, making my head pound. Pressing my warm cheek on the cold floor, I try my best to find some sort of relief, but the throbbing pain continues on. The sound of a lock turning is amplified greatly, signaling that someone is coming into my little cell, but I don’t bother to move. I don’t even bother to keep my eyes focused. I just didn’t have the strength to care about any of it anymore.
The door slowly opens and I have to wince as the light pouring into the room burns my retinas. Other than that, I am completely still and silent as I see the blurry shapes of three figures walking into the room. The sounds that accompany them are loud, making my head feel as if it was being smashed by a hammer. I want all of the noise to stop, but I haven’t the strength to vocalize my plea. The best I can muster is a wheezing noise that escapes from my parted lips. The result is the opposite of what I wanted. The noise, the voices, just grow louder. I can’t make out what the hell anyone is saying, but I’m not sure if I even want to. All I want is to be free of this pain, free of this burning, throbbing agony.
I soon feel the pressure of something-- perhaps fingertips-- on my cheek. The touch was light, but I hiss at the contact. The calloused skin touching me feels like a thousand pins and needles pricking me. I think that I try to move away from it, but all I can manage is a small shake before my head rolls to the side.
“…ille….. Baby…. ake up.”
The fingers touching my cheek gently turns my head so that I’m looking upwards. Everything is spinning, though. I can somewhat make out a figure above me, but everything is too blurred for me to make out the person’s face. The thought that this could be someone here to finish me off occurs to me, but I’m not saddened by it…. I’m actually relieved. This is the end now. No more pain, no more nightmares, no more guilt or sadness. I’m finally going to be free. So with that last hopeful thought, I smile and let my eyes close gently. The world turns black around me.
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Third Person (POV)
Bam couldn’t control the screams of pain as Viggo dragged him out of the room by his broken wrist. The other man’s hand held onto his injured wrist in a crushing grip, his blunt nails digging into the skin. The skater tried his best to wrench away, but the more he tried, the tighter Viggo’s grip became. Bam was accustomed to broken bones and serious injuries, but even this was becoming too much, even for him.
For the pimp, the sound of Bam’s screams was music to his ears. Each piercing cry sent waves of pleasure washing through Viggo’s body, making him want to grip tighter until he crushed the fragile bones into dust. Viggo had always been one to get off on other people’s pain-- it had always filled him with that gratifying sense of power and control-- but he had never felt such absolute joy in it before. To know that he was inflicting pain upon the bastard who had destroyed everything was the ultimate high for him. It won’t be long now until he feels complete euphoria. Soon, he’ll be able to watch not only the life bleed out of Bam, but he’ll be able to witness the heartache in Ville’s eyes as his lover dies. This son of a bitch took away the most important things in his life. It’s time he learns what happens when he touches someone else’s property.
“Trying to frighten the whole floor, Viggo?”
Still whimpering in pain, Bam looks up and through teary eyes sees another man standing in the corridor. The man is standing there nonchalantly with his hands behind his back and a bored expression on his face. For a moment, Bam is almost afraid that this man is going to attack him as well, but he makes no motion towards the other two men. Instead, the man just stands there, calmly waiting as Viggo drags Bam closer to him.
“They’re used to it, David,” Viggo deadpans.
The man comes to an abrupt stop, causing Bam to stumble into him. Panting in fear, Bam pulls away from the older man. This time, Viggo released the skater’s wrist, causing him to fall to the ground. The fall sends a new wave of pain shooting through Bam’s ribs and he must bite his lip to keep from crying out. The action seems to work, though he can now taste the coppery liquid on his tongue.
“Is this the one?” The man standing next to Viggo asks. The pimp just responds with a grunt and a nod. “Hm…. Not what I expected. For some reason, I thought he would be taller.”
“Just imagine my surprise,” Viggo agrees. “To think, this is what he chose.”
The pimp looks over his shoulder to see the skater still lying on the floor, clutching at his side. There are tears streaming down his face and mucus coming from his nostrils. The more he looks at the other man’s pathetic form, the angrier he becomes. The Finn had chosen this sniveling little brat over him. What the fuck was so special about him anyway? He was loud, rude, and stupid beyond belief. Viggo just couldn’t believe that Ville’s judgment was this poor. It serves him right then. Everything that has happened, he has brought upon himself.
“Shall we get on with the show, then?” The other man asks as he pulls a ring of keys from his jacket pocket.
Viggo steps back to allow Bauer to unlock the door. Turning back, he finds Bam staring up at him with frightened eyes. With a malicious smile spreading across his lips, Viggo reaches down and grabs the skater’s hair. The pimp yanks Bam up by his hair, tearing out some of the roots in the process. The skater cries and tries to scratch at the other man’s hand, but it’s doing nothing to deter him. If anything, it only amuses Viggo. Honestly, he expected much more fight out of Bam. Right now he’s just acting like one of his pathetic whores.
The sound of a lock clicking catches Bam’s attention and he freezes. Blue eyes shoot towards the metal door in front of him. What was behind the door? Was Viggo going to lock him into another room and finish him off there? Or was he just going to leave Bam there to rot?
“Before you begin, can I interest you in any tools from the treasure chest?” Bauer asks, cocking his eyebrow at Viggo. “We’ve just received a knew power drill for the collection. Perfect for drilling into the kneecaps.”
“Cut the salesmen bullshit, David,” Viggo growls. “You know I prefer bare hands.”
“…W- what the fuck are you going to do?” Bam timidly speaks up. All of this talk of potential torture has him scared to death. He’s already pissed himself once, and it seems that he may do so again.
“I’m giving you what you deserve, Bam,” Viggo answers.
Without another word, Viggo pushes open the metal door, allowing the dim light from the corridor to pour into the darkened room. Bam holds his breath as he looks into the cell-like room. That was it. Viggo was going to kill him in this room. The pimp was going to murder Bam, and nothing, not his money, his friends, his fame, could save him from this. The name and reputation that he’s built for himself over the years and the benefits of his fame was all meaningless now. The man who made a career of doing whatever the fuck he wanted was going to die alone and afraid here in this dark cell.
“…What the hell is this!?” Viggo suddenly growls and releases his hold on Bam.
The skater falls forward onto his knees, bracing himself with his good hand. Confused, the skater turns and sees Viggo leaning in on Bauer, a vicious snarl on his face.
“I gave you very specific instructions,” the pimp hisses.
“Don’t look at me,” Bauer shrugs calmly. “He did that to himself. We cleaned him up the best we could, but as you can see our efforts to save lives are mostly futile. This isn’t a damn hospital, Viggo.”
What the fuck are they talking about? Bam should be happy that Viggo has forgotten him momentarily, but he’s scared as to what has gotten Viggo even more angry. As the two men stare each other down, Bam begins to frantically examine the doorway. There was just enough space behind Viggo for him to be able to slip out. Though his body hurts like holy hell, Bam believes that he might be able to make a run for it. It just might be able to work…. Before he can begin to crawl towards the opening, though, he hears the sound of a soft wheeze coming from the room.
The skater’s heart freezes at the sound. Someone else was in the room. Very slowly, he begins to turn his head in the direction of the noise. The first thing that Bam sees are pale, dirty legs laying on the ground. His eyes follow the legs up to a creamy white torso, but they freeze when they land on the black markings of a tattoo…. It was Ville’s heartagram. Gasping, Bam’s eyes quickly flash to the person’s face and he’s met with vacant, dull green eyes.
“Ville!”
All thoughts of escape forgotten, Bam quickly crawls over to Ville’s naked body. Tears are beginning to well up in his eyes again, but this time it is a different kind of fear gripping him. When he’s at his lover’s side, he holds his breath and waits for some kind of recognition from the Finn. Ville isn’t moving, though. His eyes are still focused on the spot where he once was. Terrified, Bam reaches out a shaky hand to place on Ville’s chest. The skin was warm to the touch, but that wasn’t what Bam was concerned about. After a few nerve-wracking seconds, Bam finally feels the Finn’s faint heartbeat. He didn’t know what was wrong with Ville, but he was elated just knowing that his lover was still alive.
“V- Ville,” Bam can’t stop the tremble in his voice as he calls softly to Ville. The Finn is still unresponsive.
With his limbs still trembling, Bam slowly reaches out and touches his index finger to Ville’s smooth cheek. The skater almost flinches as the other man finally makes a motion. Ville let out a small groan and very softly shook his head before just letting it roll to the side. Biting his lip, Bam tries his best to fight back the tears as he turns Ville’s head. The green eyes he loves so much are looking in his direction, but they’re not focusing on him. The stare is distant and vacant.
“Ville,” he whispers his name, stroking his cheek gently. “Baby, wake up.”
The skater’s fingers continue to delicately stroke Ville’s cheek, but the Finn is unresponsive. After a moment, the corner’s of Ville’s lips twitch upward, giving the tiniest hint of a smile. Bam’s eyes widen, thinking that Ville has finally recognized him. His elated quickly turns to heartache, though. The Finn’s green eyes roll back and slowly his eyelids close.
“Ville,” Bam whispers his name again. Ville doesn’t stir, though.
Fearing the worst, Bam leans down and puts his ear to Ville’s face. He’s overcome with relief when he hears that the Finn is still breathing, but it’s very shallow.
“Ville, baby, please wake up,” the skater cries. “Please, Ville…. Baby, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I know. Just please open your eyes. Please.”
The skater continues to plead to the unconscious man as he strokes his hair back. He whispers over and over words of apology and begs for the other man to open his eyes. Ville is unresponsive, though. Desperate, Bam begins to plead to God for the Finn to wake up. It doesn’t matter whether he makes it out or not, he just wants Ville to be spared. Ville didn’t deserve any of this. It was Bam’s fault, Ville shouldn’t have to pay for his mistakes.
“Get your fucking hands off him,” a voice growls from behind.
Before Bam can turn around, a hand grabs him once more by the hair and throws him to the ground. The skater gasps at the pain, but he pushes it to the back of his mind once he sees Viggo kneeling down over Ville’s body. The pimp’s face is contorted into a vicious scowl, giving away his anger over the situation. It was the first time that Bam had seen any real emotion on the other man’s naturally stoic face. His brows are furrowed and his cold eyes are narrowed as they examine Ville’s unconscious form.
Viggo’s large hand reaches out suddenly and grabs Ville’s arm. The pimp holds the sleeping man tightly by his forearm as he raises it in the air.
“What the fuck is this!?” He screams. Bam jumps, but he realizes that the other man wasn’t talking to him. The object of his rage is leaning against the doorway, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I told you, he did that to himself,” Bauer shrugs. “Some half-ass attempt to kill himself.”
What? Ville had tried to kill himself? Bam is shocked by the idea that Ville would give up like that. Yes, the man did have a morbidly cynical mind, but Bam thought that he had a fighting spirit…. Did he really lose all hope like that? The skater looks to the arm Viggo is still holding in the air. When he sees what it is that Viggo was talking about, he almost gags.
Ville’s wrist is a fucking mess. The skin was an ugly red color and it swollen horribly. There were deep marks surrounding black stitches near the pulse point on his wrist. It takes Bam a second to realize that the wounds were teeth marks. Ville had tried to bite through his wrist like some kind of animal. The thought alone is enough to raise bile from Bam’s throat. He tries his best to swallow it down, but it’s hard as he continues to stare at the wound. When Viggo’s hand squeezes Ville’s skin, a thick white puss begins to ooze from the torn skin and this time, Bam can’t keep his sickness inside.
The heaving of the skater goes ignored as Viggo continues to stare Bauer down. It is a wonder as to why he isn’t beating the man’s skull in already. He had given him very specific instructions. Under no circumstances was Ville allowed to die! Ville’s punishment was to be kept here, alive and breathing, until the day Viggo found it in his heart to release him or until he died of old age. It had barely been a week!
“Why were his hands free?” Viggo snarls.
“The position you left him in would have torn his muscles eventually. His neck was still chained, so I didn’t see the harm in letting his hands free. The thought that he would gnaw through his own flesh never occurred to me.”
Viggo furiously threw Ville’s limp arm back on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he runs his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. It doesn’t work, though. Viggo Mortensen is a man who needs to be in control. Whether it be his emotions, his workers, or his business, he always needed absolute power over the situation. The moment he realized that he could capture the punk skater, he had a very well thought out plan. He would set Bam up as Jonne and Ville’s attacker, have the skater abducted after he was released from jail, making everyone think that he had gone on the run, and then he would kill him in front of Ville. It was the perfect punishment, but now all of his plans were in shambles…. He had lost control.
“…How long has he been like this?” Viggo asks, his eyes still narrowed at Bauer.
“He wasn’t looking so hot when your Swede came to bust him out last night. The infection must have spread since then…. Whatever you’re planning to do, you had better get on with it. I’d say that he’s not going to make it past the next hour.”
“Get out!” Viggo barks. Bauer just gives a curt nod and leaves the room.
Viggo is panting heavily now, the rage inside of him reaching its breaking point. Ville was going to die. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the thought breaks his heart. It hurts, because he meant what he had said to Bam before. He’s known Ville since the boy was fifteen. In all of those years with him, he’d fallen so in love with him that he wanted the young man in his life forever. If he couldn’t have Ville with him before, then the only option he had was to lock him away here, where he would never be able to escape from Viggo…. Now his Ville was slipping away. Viggo didn’t want to accept it, but there was nothing he could do.
Suddenly, everything inside of Viggo snaps. Pulling his own hair by the roots, Viggo lets out a frustrated scream, one that could be heard throughout this torture chamber. Snarling like a beast, his dark eyes fall on the shaking skater. Bam is staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, his jaw dropped slightly. Viggo stares the punk down, curling his fists into tight balls. His chest is heaving now as he waits. He’s the lion about to pounce, the cobra about to strike. All he’s waiting for is for Bam to make one little move. It comes when Bam’s eyes quickly shift from Viggo to Ville. That was all the pimp needed before he strikes.
Viggo kicks Bam in the stomach, knocking the younger man flat on his back. Bam begins to cough and he once again tastes blood on his tongue. Viggo is standing over him before he can make sense of what is happening. The man kicks him again and again, rolling him over onto his stomach from the force of it. Viggo reaches down and grabs Bam by the back of his neck in a crushing grip before he lifts him up. Screaming once more, Viggo slams Bam into the concrete wall face-first. The skater’s knees are giving out beneath him, but Viggo’s hold on him keeps him from falling.
“This was all supposed to be so simple, Bam,” Viggo hisses in his ear, squeezing the young man tighter. “He was supposed to watch as I beat you to death. You were supposed to listen to him scream and beg.”
“D- don’t hurt him,” Bam pleads.
“He’s already dying, you idiot!” Viggo throws Bam into the wall again, watching with mild amusement as the skater hits his temple and falls to the ground.
The skater groans in pain from the ground. Out of instinct, he curls his body into a protective ball, but his eyes remain on Ville’s body. All he can think of-- besides the blinding pain-- is that Ville, his sweet, beautiful Ville, is dying. It’s not fair…. Ville is the sweetest person that Bam has ever known. It’s not his fault that he was tricked into this lifestyle, trapped under the control of a psychopath. It’s not right that such a beautiful and wonderful life is going to be cut short while monsters like Viggo were free to roam. Where was the justice in all of this? Why should Ville have to die for loving him?
“You did this to him, Bam,” Viggo’s voice cuts him like a knife. The tip of Viggo’s shoe comes under Bam’s chin, tapping it so that the skater will look upwards towards him. The glare the older man is sending him sends a shiver down his spine.
“You did this,” he repeats. “Everything that has happened to Ville, it is because of you.”
Bam couldn’t speak, but he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to at this point. What Viggo is saying to him now is nothing new. His guilty conscience has been screaming those same words for days. He knows that it was his fault and he’ll never forgive himself for it…. But he’ll never be sorry for loving Ville. Bam will never apologize for the way Ville made him feel. Knowing the Finn has been the best thing of Bam’s life and no one could take that away from him.
“This is what happens when you touch what doesn’t belong to you,” the pimp growls as he kneels down to look Bam in the eyes. “This is what happen when you touch my things.”
Hearing that word made something inside of Bam snap. He felt a familiar anger returning inside of him and suddenly, his old, defiant attitude was filling him again. Without thinking, Bam’s good hand balls into a fist and strikes at Viggo, catching him off guard. Genuinely shocked, Viggo puts his hand to his cheek where he feels a heat flaring up. The little shit just hit him…. Another time and Viggo may have been impressed by his ballsy move.
“Ville is not a thing!” Bam screams. His breath is coming out in a wheeze, but he works through the pain. “He is not your fucking property. He’s a person, with a heart, a soul, and a family. He’s not something that you can control. He and Jonne, they were too good for you…. You’re fucking delusional if you ever thought that he would love you. It’s sad that you’ll never know how much he hated you.”
“…Is that so?”
Viggo’s jaw is clenched so tightly that it’s trembling. The skater doesn’t know it, but he’s just managed to do the impossible, something that only one other person has ever done. He’s hurt Viggo. With his words, Bam has managed to cut through Viggo’s black soul. The pimp is on top of him in the blink of an eye. Bam tries to thrash beneath him, but the man is too large and his weight is pressing down on his broken ribs. Viggo’s fist punch Bam’s face so hard that when he pulls back he finds that his knuckles are bleeding. The eye instantly begins to swell, obscuring Bam’s vision.
All air supply is suddenly cut off as Bam feels two hands around his throat. This wasn’t like the grip before where the man was just trying to keep him submissive. This was a death grip. Viggo’s thumbs were digging into his trachea, cutting his skin with his blunt nails. He can faintly hear the snarling breath of the man above him, but he can’t focus on it. Bam’s survival instincts are kicking in, telling him to trash and fight, but he can’t. The way Viggo has him pinned to the ground keeps his legs immobilized and his arms are laying uselessly beside him. All he can do now is wait for either all of the air to leave his lungs or for his neck to snap.
With what may be the last coherent thought in his mind, Bam reaches out his right hand and searches the ground. His fingertips brush against warm skin and he knows that he’s found what he was looking for. As his blue eyes begin to roll in the back of his head, his hand grasps Ville’s. If he was going to die, then he was at least going to touch his love one last time.
“Mortensen!”
Viggo’s body visibly jolts at the sound of a foreign voice screaming his name. Keeping his hold on Bam’s throat, Viggo peeks over his shoulder, spotting four people with bullet-proof vests aiming their guns at him. Well… this was unexpected.
“Mortensen, let him go!” One of the cops demands. “It’s over now.”
Indeed it was over. Everything that Viggo has spent years building is now coming crashing down around his feet. In a few moments, all that he has worked so hard for will be gone and he’ll be left with nothing; no more power, no more control. If he was going to go down, though, he was going to make damn sure that the person who caused all of this goes down with him. Turning his head back, Viggo ignores the screams of the cops and continues to choke the life out of Bam. The skater’s mouth was open, gasping like a fish thrown onto dry land. He squeezes tighter, determined to see the light leave Bam’s eyes.
“Do not make me have to shoot you!”
Viggo ignores the man. If he shoots him, then he shoots him. It didn’t matter to Viggo anymore. All he cared about now was making sure that Bam would die. He squeezes tighter, feeling the veins beneath his fingers and the pulse point on Bam’s neck throbbing wildly. A rattling noise escapes from the back of Bam’s throat, but the bastard still won’t die!
A deafening bang erupts through the room and pain slices through Viggo’s shoulder. The bastards had actually shot him, he thinks as a white hot, burning sensation flares from his shoulder. The pimp howls like a wounded animal, but he doesn’t release his hold on Bam. Finally, the skater’s eyes close.
Arms come around Viggo, throwing him off of Bam and onto the floor. The cop who had thrown him wrestles him down, pinning his arms behind his back. Viggo isn’t upset, though, and he almost startles the cop when he begins to laugh. They honestly think that they’ve stopped him? No…. Viggo may be losing this battle, but he’ll never be stopped. After all, he was a wealthy man. Wealthy men don’t do hard time. Even so, he’s also laughing because he’s finally destroyed that smug little bastard. He’s finally gotten his vengeance.
“Liv, call a medic,” the cop on top of him shouts.
A female detective drops down beside the two unconscious men. She quickly puts her fingers to Ville’s neck, feeling for a heartbeat. It’s there, but it is slowly fading. She repeats the process on Bam, but she can’t find anything. She shouts the order to the cops behind her to call the paramedics before she begins CPR.
“Come on, Bam,” he mutters, on the verge of completely losing it. “Stay with me.”
Olivia Benson continues administering CPR to the skater, but it isn’t yielding any results. She keeps trying, determined not to let the young man die. Chaos is erupting around her as the SWAT team raids the other rooms of the lower basement. People are screaming in pain, shouting orders, and running through the halls. Through all of the madness, though, the sound she can make out most clearly is Viggo’s laughter.
“Stay with me, Bam…. Stay with me.”
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