Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > A Little Less 16 Candles... continued...
Patrick stood with his back pressed against the cell wall, as far from Pete as he could manage. Keeping, or at least trying to keep his eyes diverted, in the hope that his mind couldn’t be manipulated. As far as he could tell, Pete had a power that neither of them truly understood and one that Pete had no apparent control over.
Pulling and straining on the belt wrapped tightly around his wrists, Pete grunted his frustration as he found it strong enough, at the moment, to hold him. His craving was growing rapidly and the scent of Patrick’s blood filled the air, his senses and his every thought.
“Let me go!” Pete yelled; his eyes rolling as his need took a stronger hold. “Get this off me!”
“No,” Patrick whispered, pained to see his friend in such distress, but at the same time unwilling to risk his life by doing as he asked.
Pete glared harshly, forgetting himself, forgetting his friendship. His thoughts consumed only by the need for blood; Beckett’s plan was working perfectly.
“Get this off me!” Pete repeated, growling in a low voice.
Patrick turned his eyes slowly towards his friend, finally making eye contact. It was a mistake, even as he did it, he knew it was a mistake, but something compelled him.
“That’s right,” Pete smiled, still staring. “Come here,” he ordered.
Patrick edged forward slowly, unwillingly. There seemed little he could do to prevent it. This time he was prepared and his conscious mind knew exactly what was happening, but it was as if he was no longer in charge of his own body.
“Come on, Patrick,” Pete urged, grinning as he drew closer, clearly afraid. “Only a few more feet and… and…”
Pete blinked a few times before sinking to his knees.
“Come on… come…” he slurred angrily as Patrick broke free of the hypnotic mind control and stepped back a few paces. “Wh… what…?”
“Dawn,” Patrick replied, relieved as Pete slumped against the bars.
As a young vampire of less than two years, Pete was, as yet, unable to stay awake beyond dawn. Even though he was in an underground dungeon with no way of knowing what time of day it was, the effect of the sunrise still affected him. It was as if the dawn was part of his body clock and as the sun rose, so he fell into a deep sleep. Even so, Patrick knew better than to approach him even as he slept.
*
Beckett looked up and frowned. He had a lot of work to do yet and it was already dawn. The last thing he needed had already approached his office and was knocking vigorously on the door. He had sensed Brendon’s arrival and the anxiety that came with him; he was in no mood to pander to Brendon’s issues.
“Not now, Brendon,” Beckett called irritably. “Tomorrow, I’ve got…”
Before Beckett even managed to finish his sentence, Brendon had entered the room. By way of apology for disobeying he dropped to one knee a few feet inside, his head bowed.
“Master, I’m sorry, I can see that you’re busy but I… I needed to speak to you.”
Beckett’s anger diffused, unexpectedly, even to him. There was something desperate about Brendon’s pleading. Something had shaken him to the core. Perhaps it was important?
“Master, I know I have no right to ask this…” Brendon paused. All his bravado gone now that he was kneeling in front of Beckett, about to ask the question he feared the most.
Beckett noticed that Brendon continued to call him ‘Master’; something was, indeed very wrong – at least in Brendon’s eyes.
“Go on,” Beckett encouraged, more out of curiosity than caring.
“I… what are your plans for Wentz?” Brendon remained on one knee, looking down at the floor. “After he’s broken, I mean.”
“He will join the Coven, as he was always meant to,” Beckett explained briefly. If he knew what Brendon was alluding to, he made no mention of it.
“At what rank?” Brendon asked looking up, somehow becoming a little bolder than he thought he was able.
Beckett rose and walked slowly from behind the desk and beckoned with a finger for Brendon to come closer. Rising from his knees, Brendon moved forward, thankful to have his master’s full attention.
“We have discussed this, have we not?” Beckett said dryly.
“Master?”
“I distinctly remember telling you, on more than one occasion, not to question me over this and merely to do as I asked. Have you done that?”
“No, Master William,” Brendon lowered his eyes.
“And why not?” Beckett asked, giving his Second a chance to explain himself.
“I’m afraid,” Brendon admitted, exposing his deepest fears. “I’m afraid that you’ll replace me.”
Beckett nodded, apparently sympathetically. But it was short lived. Raising a hand so quick that even Brendon missed it, he swept the back of it viciously across Brendon’s cheek, sending him spinning to the floor by the sheer force and unexpected violence of the attack. Gathering his wits quickly Brendon looked up, offering a pleading and apologetic expression to Beckett.
“Master, I’m sorry, I… I…”
“I told you not to question me! You have no reason to doubt me. Really Brendon, do you honestly believe that if I wanted to replace you, that you’d still be alive? Get out!” Beckett yelled ungraciously. “Get out and do your job!”
“It’s dawn, Master William, Wentz will be asleep.”
Beckett gave a deep angry sigh. “Do I have to do all your thinking for you? Go torture the other one. I want him broken into a slave within the week. Do whatever you need to and don’t bother me with this again. This is the last time I’m going to discuss this with you, Brendon. I told you that this was important to me and that you couldn’t appreciate how much. I don’t want you to ask me why and neither do I feel the need to explain myself to you! Just do precisely what I ask, without question. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Master William,” Brendon’s shoulders sagged. Despite Beckett’s apparent confirmation that he was not being replaced, Brendon couldn’t help but wonder why there was such a need for secrecy and mystery. He felt certain he was being lied to and he didn’t like it.
“Brendon,” Beckett’s anger faded at the sight of the misery in his favourite’s eyes. “Peter is to me what a wasp at a picnic is to a human; an ever-present, yet dangerous nuisance. But without his sting, he is nothing. Trust me, Brendon, simply do what I ask.”
Brendon nodded, some of his faith restored. “Yes, William,” he replied, boldly dropping the title ‘Master’ to check the reaction.
“Good,” Beckett smiled. “Now, it’s after dawn, too tired for torture?”
A slow grin spread across the younger vampire’s face. “Never!”
*
It felt strange to be hunting in daylight, but it made sense. Only some of the slaves and a few of the older vampires would still be awake. Of course, that didn’t make Joe feel any better – the older ones were the most powerful, the most dangerous.
“This place is like a fortress!” Andrea finally commented after the pair had sat in silence for some minutes. “How are we going to get in?”
Joe frowned. He knew, without much consideration that she wouldn’t like his suggestion. Staring intently at the rear gates, he formulated his plan.
“Realistically, only one of us can get in. I want you to cause a distraction at the front gates. Once you get their attention, run like hell to the car and get out of here.”
“And what will you be doing?” Andrea asked surprisingly compliant.
“I’ll be breaking in through the rear gates. They look electric, I’m guessing the taser will short them and I can get in that way.”
“And what makes you think we can’t both go in that way?” she asked disparagingly.
Joe scowled; he knew it seemed that she was going along with it far too easily.
“If there’s a distraction at the front, they won’t be checking the back. It’ll be easier,” he replied with some irritation in his tone. To him, it seemed the obvious conclusion.
“Really?” She asked raising an eyebrow. “And who do you think you’re kidding? Me, them or yourself?”
“What?” he asked, surprised by her sudden harsh tone.
“They saw us both together before,” she began with a sigh. “If I’m at the front gates, where do you imagine they’ll think you are?”
“Well…”
“And who do you think they’ll want the most out of the two of us? The hunter thorn in their side or just another snack?”
“Look,” Joe pouted, “I’ve never done this before. Patrick’s the planner, the brains of the operation. I’m a fighter. Once I get in there, I’ll know exactly what to do. I’ll be fine, but…”
“You think I’ll be a liability?”
“I didn’t say that,” Joe replied softly as he saw the disappointment and, yes, even pain in her eyes.
“But you’re thinking it?”
“Yeah,” Joe admitted quietly. “Look, I’m sorry, but my friends are in there. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you saved my life the other night, but I really don’t want to have to return the favour so soon. I… I need to be able to concentrate on getting them out.”
“I want to help,” Andrea stated firmly.
“Look, Pete saved your life, you saved mine. Debt cleared, yeah? You don’t have to do this!” Joe insisted.
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough? I want to help!”
Joe sighed, but with a smile fixed on his face. She was nothing if not determined and he had to admire her courage.
“Okay,” he nodded. “We’ll go in through the rear gates. Once we’re in, keep low, stay hidden and pray that most are asleep!”
*
Beckett gave a lazy smile as he watched the monitor. Pressing a button on the keypad adjacent, he waited only a few moments.
“Master Beckett?” came a crisp, efficient voice, distorted slightly by the small speaker.
“They’re coming in through the rear gates. Make it easy for them and once they’re well inside the grounds, send a welcome party.”
“Yes, Master.”
Switching off both speaker and monitor, Beckett leaned back in his chair, bringing his fingertips together as he delighted in his plans. They appeared to be working with such apparent ease and simplicity. But that was the key. Complications only bred more complications. Soon it would all be over. Peter would be under his control. Patrick would be dead and no longer a source of hope for the difficult young vampire. Andy and Joe would make good slaves or fine meals should they fail. And this girl? She was interesting; brave, beautiful and determined. Beckett guessed that her blood would taste sweet and rich. He would have her himself. His mouth almost dried at the thought.
“Patience, William,” he reminded himself. “Patience. Almost two years I’ve endured ridicule from the Coven Leaders for losing control of Peter. But no more. By tonight, no one will have the nerve to mock me. No one!”
Pulling and straining on the belt wrapped tightly around his wrists, Pete grunted his frustration as he found it strong enough, at the moment, to hold him. His craving was growing rapidly and the scent of Patrick’s blood filled the air, his senses and his every thought.
“Let me go!” Pete yelled; his eyes rolling as his need took a stronger hold. “Get this off me!”
“No,” Patrick whispered, pained to see his friend in such distress, but at the same time unwilling to risk his life by doing as he asked.
Pete glared harshly, forgetting himself, forgetting his friendship. His thoughts consumed only by the need for blood; Beckett’s plan was working perfectly.
“Get this off me!” Pete repeated, growling in a low voice.
Patrick turned his eyes slowly towards his friend, finally making eye contact. It was a mistake, even as he did it, he knew it was a mistake, but something compelled him.
“That’s right,” Pete smiled, still staring. “Come here,” he ordered.
Patrick edged forward slowly, unwillingly. There seemed little he could do to prevent it. This time he was prepared and his conscious mind knew exactly what was happening, but it was as if he was no longer in charge of his own body.
“Come on, Patrick,” Pete urged, grinning as he drew closer, clearly afraid. “Only a few more feet and… and…”
Pete blinked a few times before sinking to his knees.
“Come on… come…” he slurred angrily as Patrick broke free of the hypnotic mind control and stepped back a few paces. “Wh… what…?”
“Dawn,” Patrick replied, relieved as Pete slumped against the bars.
As a young vampire of less than two years, Pete was, as yet, unable to stay awake beyond dawn. Even though he was in an underground dungeon with no way of knowing what time of day it was, the effect of the sunrise still affected him. It was as if the dawn was part of his body clock and as the sun rose, so he fell into a deep sleep. Even so, Patrick knew better than to approach him even as he slept.
*
Beckett looked up and frowned. He had a lot of work to do yet and it was already dawn. The last thing he needed had already approached his office and was knocking vigorously on the door. He had sensed Brendon’s arrival and the anxiety that came with him; he was in no mood to pander to Brendon’s issues.
“Not now, Brendon,” Beckett called irritably. “Tomorrow, I’ve got…”
Before Beckett even managed to finish his sentence, Brendon had entered the room. By way of apology for disobeying he dropped to one knee a few feet inside, his head bowed.
“Master, I’m sorry, I can see that you’re busy but I… I needed to speak to you.”
Beckett’s anger diffused, unexpectedly, even to him. There was something desperate about Brendon’s pleading. Something had shaken him to the core. Perhaps it was important?
“Master, I know I have no right to ask this…” Brendon paused. All his bravado gone now that he was kneeling in front of Beckett, about to ask the question he feared the most.
Beckett noticed that Brendon continued to call him ‘Master’; something was, indeed very wrong – at least in Brendon’s eyes.
“Go on,” Beckett encouraged, more out of curiosity than caring.
“I… what are your plans for Wentz?” Brendon remained on one knee, looking down at the floor. “After he’s broken, I mean.”
“He will join the Coven, as he was always meant to,” Beckett explained briefly. If he knew what Brendon was alluding to, he made no mention of it.
“At what rank?” Brendon asked looking up, somehow becoming a little bolder than he thought he was able.
Beckett rose and walked slowly from behind the desk and beckoned with a finger for Brendon to come closer. Rising from his knees, Brendon moved forward, thankful to have his master’s full attention.
“We have discussed this, have we not?” Beckett said dryly.
“Master?”
“I distinctly remember telling you, on more than one occasion, not to question me over this and merely to do as I asked. Have you done that?”
“No, Master William,” Brendon lowered his eyes.
“And why not?” Beckett asked, giving his Second a chance to explain himself.
“I’m afraid,” Brendon admitted, exposing his deepest fears. “I’m afraid that you’ll replace me.”
Beckett nodded, apparently sympathetically. But it was short lived. Raising a hand so quick that even Brendon missed it, he swept the back of it viciously across Brendon’s cheek, sending him spinning to the floor by the sheer force and unexpected violence of the attack. Gathering his wits quickly Brendon looked up, offering a pleading and apologetic expression to Beckett.
“Master, I’m sorry, I… I…”
“I told you not to question me! You have no reason to doubt me. Really Brendon, do you honestly believe that if I wanted to replace you, that you’d still be alive? Get out!” Beckett yelled ungraciously. “Get out and do your job!”
“It’s dawn, Master William, Wentz will be asleep.”
Beckett gave a deep angry sigh. “Do I have to do all your thinking for you? Go torture the other one. I want him broken into a slave within the week. Do whatever you need to and don’t bother me with this again. This is the last time I’m going to discuss this with you, Brendon. I told you that this was important to me and that you couldn’t appreciate how much. I don’t want you to ask me why and neither do I feel the need to explain myself to you! Just do precisely what I ask, without question. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Master William,” Brendon’s shoulders sagged. Despite Beckett’s apparent confirmation that he was not being replaced, Brendon couldn’t help but wonder why there was such a need for secrecy and mystery. He felt certain he was being lied to and he didn’t like it.
“Brendon,” Beckett’s anger faded at the sight of the misery in his favourite’s eyes. “Peter is to me what a wasp at a picnic is to a human; an ever-present, yet dangerous nuisance. But without his sting, he is nothing. Trust me, Brendon, simply do what I ask.”
Brendon nodded, some of his faith restored. “Yes, William,” he replied, boldly dropping the title ‘Master’ to check the reaction.
“Good,” Beckett smiled. “Now, it’s after dawn, too tired for torture?”
A slow grin spread across the younger vampire’s face. “Never!”
*
It felt strange to be hunting in daylight, but it made sense. Only some of the slaves and a few of the older vampires would still be awake. Of course, that didn’t make Joe feel any better – the older ones were the most powerful, the most dangerous.
“This place is like a fortress!” Andrea finally commented after the pair had sat in silence for some minutes. “How are we going to get in?”
Joe frowned. He knew, without much consideration that she wouldn’t like his suggestion. Staring intently at the rear gates, he formulated his plan.
“Realistically, only one of us can get in. I want you to cause a distraction at the front gates. Once you get their attention, run like hell to the car and get out of here.”
“And what will you be doing?” Andrea asked surprisingly compliant.
“I’ll be breaking in through the rear gates. They look electric, I’m guessing the taser will short them and I can get in that way.”
“And what makes you think we can’t both go in that way?” she asked disparagingly.
Joe scowled; he knew it seemed that she was going along with it far too easily.
“If there’s a distraction at the front, they won’t be checking the back. It’ll be easier,” he replied with some irritation in his tone. To him, it seemed the obvious conclusion.
“Really?” She asked raising an eyebrow. “And who do you think you’re kidding? Me, them or yourself?”
“What?” he asked, surprised by her sudden harsh tone.
“They saw us both together before,” she began with a sigh. “If I’m at the front gates, where do you imagine they’ll think you are?”
“Well…”
“And who do you think they’ll want the most out of the two of us? The hunter thorn in their side or just another snack?”
“Look,” Joe pouted, “I’ve never done this before. Patrick’s the planner, the brains of the operation. I’m a fighter. Once I get in there, I’ll know exactly what to do. I’ll be fine, but…”
“You think I’ll be a liability?”
“I didn’t say that,” Joe replied softly as he saw the disappointment and, yes, even pain in her eyes.
“But you’re thinking it?”
“Yeah,” Joe admitted quietly. “Look, I’m sorry, but my friends are in there. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you saved my life the other night, but I really don’t want to have to return the favour so soon. I… I need to be able to concentrate on getting them out.”
“I want to help,” Andrea stated firmly.
“Look, Pete saved your life, you saved mine. Debt cleared, yeah? You don’t have to do this!” Joe insisted.
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough? I want to help!”
Joe sighed, but with a smile fixed on his face. She was nothing if not determined and he had to admire her courage.
“Okay,” he nodded. “We’ll go in through the rear gates. Once we’re in, keep low, stay hidden and pray that most are asleep!”
*
Beckett gave a lazy smile as he watched the monitor. Pressing a button on the keypad adjacent, he waited only a few moments.
“Master Beckett?” came a crisp, efficient voice, distorted slightly by the small speaker.
“They’re coming in through the rear gates. Make it easy for them and once they’re well inside the grounds, send a welcome party.”
“Yes, Master.”
Switching off both speaker and monitor, Beckett leaned back in his chair, bringing his fingertips together as he delighted in his plans. They appeared to be working with such apparent ease and simplicity. But that was the key. Complications only bred more complications. Soon it would all be over. Peter would be under his control. Patrick would be dead and no longer a source of hope for the difficult young vampire. Andy and Joe would make good slaves or fine meals should they fail. And this girl? She was interesting; brave, beautiful and determined. Beckett guessed that her blood would taste sweet and rich. He would have her himself. His mouth almost dried at the thought.
“Patience, William,” he reminded himself. “Patience. Almost two years I’ve endured ridicule from the Coven Leaders for losing control of Peter. But no more. By tonight, no one will have the nerve to mock me. No one!”
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