Cue Thunder

Mr. Hale was in no way stealthy as he ran; just barely missing trees, his erratic breathing making him easy to track. He could hear the man gaining on him from behind.

"If you run we kill the other. Stop."

Everhett jumped at how close the voice sounded. He turned his head in panic to look over his shoulder. Wrong decision. The action had set the already- horribly balanced man even more off-kilter, making him catch his foot on a stone and sending him falling forwards onto the ground. Mr. Hale landed with a loud "OOPMH!" His air knocked from his lungs.

He lay there stunned, the thoughts of escape washed over with a new urgency; to fill his lungs. Breathe...breathe..! He had never felt this sensation before, it was agony in his chest, like he couldn't inhale... Everhett's vision was blurry as he turned himself with effort onto his back, hoping that would help bring air into his traitorous lungs.



Javier nodded as best he could at the man's request. Anything to be free of this painful contraption. He felt the tube being pulled from his arm, then bandages wrapped tightly around to staunch the bleeding. What had the doctor said? Wrong blood type?

Mr. Bourg got to his feet, with the help of the coffin's edge, and bent to slide his arm's under the ghouls armpits. The valet tried to pull the cold, clammy thing from the casket, but it was quite heavy. Finally he heaved, the deadman's feet coming free of the coffin. Standing on shaking legs, Javier dragged the ghoul towards the entrance, trying not to dwell on what was in his arms. Which wasn't too hard a task with the haze that crept in on the edges of his mind.

He shook his head to rid it of it's cloudiness, and pulled the late Mr. Hale out of the tomb, past the lantern fire and out onto the grass outside. Mr. Bourg set the thing down, the arms of both of them slick with his blood. He tried to resist retching, instead raising his eyes to his captor and swaying slightly in place,

"What is this? This... Experiment I mean."

Perhaps he wasn't thinking straight, but Javier didn't hesitate to ask the question. This whole business unnerved him. Strange implements and invisible lacing fire... Dead men breathing... What was all this?

"I'm coming to get, coming to get you, coming to get you..." The Igor had a bit of a jaunt to his voice as he followed the boy who seemed to be panicing a bit. Ahh, there he was looking over his shoulder. He gave a bit of a wave to him as he moved closer, seeing him then stumble, large shoes heading into the air as he fell. It was time to deal with this cry baby. Time to put him out of both their misery, as well as for the one further back at the graves. "Hey shorty. Get up." He stepped on his stomache and kicked him in the hipbefore he started digging, pouring dirt on top of the boy as he started up with a pit. "Itsh a sthame that we can't keep you. You stheem like so mutch fun." He then spat the tobacco from his mouth to Hale's face and spoke again, the lisping gone. "Why didn't you run as soon as you came to the grave? It would have made things a lot easier, pretty boy."


The boy was working surprisingly well, considering the weight of the body and the injuries both to his arm and leg. The examiner seemed to still be standing nearby, though he might have just changed another figure around to go spy on what Igor was doing. Likely had the boy buried by then, a couple of his organs going down the sloucher's gullet. Crazy cannibal. Still, he got the job done and there was always enough of the cadavers left over for his experiments. And it seemed that there was another interested party. "Ahhh, your curiousity of the finer things in life grow." He wasn't speaking with much sense, simpy being of the belief that what he was doing was grand and important. "I am seeing how well I can heal the injured or buried and give them life once again. It would seem that your friend might have been a back up plan, for Mr. Hale to replace after we made him look somewhat younger." He was taking some guesses there, but it really wouldn't have surprised him. "So unless my associate has raped or eaten your friend, I may be needing him back here. "He recocked the pistol and pointed it at the bleeding boy. "Would you by chance care for a job?"

Whatever air he had been able to gain was forced from his lungs agains as soon as the man stomped on his stomach. Everhett would have exclaimed his pain at the kick to his hip to the high heavens, if he wasn't busy gasping like a fish out of water.

What do you mean not keep me? Was that a threat? The slouching braggart was making fun of him, no doubt! He didn't like the sound of the man's voice, or the feel of dirt and the man's spit hitting his face. Anger boiled in his gut. A scowl managed to twist on the man's features despite his hitched breathing. In his head he was screaming all the obscenities he could remember from his adolescence, but outwardly the man lay pathetically limp, trying to catch his breath. He groaned, then rolled onto his side wincing. He couldn't stand; there was pain in his ankle and his hip twinged... He made do with trying to crawl away using his arms, those limbs already exhausted from the manual labor he had done.



Mr. Bourg watched the man's face as he spoke. He was prideful... And had no qualms about playing with life and death… He was dangerous.

Something else the man said struck him. Raped? Eaten? Mr. Bourg tried to keep his face unreadable, but the pain in his arm and the shock the man's words brought made it significantly more difficult.

What sort of men are these?! Surely the man was simply toying with him... Surely it was a sick sort of humor..

"I said I would help you if you did not hurt him.." Javier said weakly, hoping futilely that there was some sort of gentility, some sort of conscience in the man he could appeal to. The valet quickly shut his mouth when the gun was pointed at him however, and raised his empty palms slowly.

"Would you by chance care for a job?"

"A... Job?" Javier asked, eyeing the man's trigger finger.

It seemed that they might need to move on again after this. These people might have been new to the area, not that he was exactly up to the latest gossip, but they must have gotten here somehow and might have had a carriage or other servants about. He would need to check into it, maybe strip whatever apartment they had of food and valuables, perhaps getting some new textbooks with lots of pictures. Oooh, he could find some nice suits to practice his needlework on, no doubt. Make a nice quilt for the cold winters in that frozen old fortress. Too risky to have many fires, at least not when the sky was cloudy enough to hide the smoke and keep everyone else indoors. "Get out of your shoes. Out of your petticoat. Put your rings, gloves and other things in a pile or I will be forced to take them off you myself." The Igor said with a clear voice, running his hands along Hale's side to find any pockets or bumps.

Victor picked up a candle lantern that had been knocked over at a past visit to the grave and been forgotten of until that point, hearing the weak voice despite his somewhat damaged hearing. "Did you?" He responded, the sound of confusion in his face making up for the bad lighting. "I don't recall. Must have been dealing with his crying at the time. Had I agreed to that?" He thought over it for a bit as he lit the candle lantern, showing the shine of the ring on the uncle's finger, as well as what seemd to be a cage around his chest like another pair of ribs under his coat. "The job would be simple. Carry things, assist in translating your English... I may have the grammar down but there are many English and Scottish doctors who's works interest me. Keep your posture up while dragging. You wouldn't want to get a hump."

Mr Hale stopped his feeble attempts at escape when he heard the man address him. What? He wanted him to undress? Ridiculous! He would not-!

Everthett begrudgingly began to remove his excesses, the only reason being he didn't favor them being taken off him by that man. He set thin leather gloves and a signet ring on the side of him, then began to shrug off his coat as well; reluctant to leave it's warmth for the night air was bitingly chill.

"A petticoat is woman's clothing, how dare you... And what happened to your voice...?" He snidely muttered, adding his coat to the pile and sitting up to untie his shoes. Oh his poor, custom crafted shoes... They had been so horribly muddied and torn.. He'd no doubt be shamefully short now.

How will I live it down?

When he was finished, Everhett jerked, startled by the man's touch, "Get your paws off, you beast!" He snarled angrily, pushing the man away as best he could by his broad shoulders, but not before the searching fingers ran over the lump in his right pocket.




"No... You didn't." Javier whispered quietly to himself, his eyes falling to the ground.

How could he have thought they would be chivalrous? Obviously they had no regards for toying and playing with human life. These were no ordinary men. Javier cursed inwardly. Like the fool he was, he let Mr. Hale out of his sight thinking they needed only one body- his. But the man had said something about using Everhett as a "replacement?" What did that mean? The would not free him?

Mr. Bourg listened to the man's offer, his eyes guarded. He did not trust this doctor, nor the strange experiments or the way he seemed so prone to violence.. But his predicament was not an easy one. If he struggled Mr. Hale would die, if he wasn't dead already, and if he didn't he'd end up what? This man's valet? Javier raised his eyes to the dismissive one's of his captor. The man was not a patient one. It wouldn't do to keep him waiting.

"Do I have a choice?" He asked carefully.

"I stop chewing." Igor explained, wondering how the boy hadn't noticed the glob of he had released onto his face only minute before. The hole wasn't all that deep, about three feet, but it would do if he got the boy on his back. He pocketed the ring, stepping out of the whole and cracking his back, showing himself to be around one and a half the height of the Englishman, before getting back into his full body slouch, his legs bowing, shoulders rising, heading lower as his back curved... Though him standing on a pile of dirt while doing so, the boy on the groun removing his clothes probably exaggerated how tall he looked. After begining to search the boy, he found some sort of lump around his wait before he was once again insulted. Bad move. "I'm sorry about the petticoat comment. Don't get your bloomers all in a bunch." He shot out the comment on one of the less socially acceptable terms for bum boys who worse womens underwear after that as he leaned over the boy, pulling at his pants to get whatever was there.

"Now, now, young man." Victor crooned for some reason, taking up the persona of some villain he saw on the stage. "You simply give yourself to me, body and soul, and we can put all of this behind us. Your tart can go free, hopping to..." He lost points from the human skeleton, who did not appreciate how some of his characters were being butchered in translation. "Just come with me, do as I say, and enjoy a life of quiet adventure. Perhaps even a second and third one." Test subjects were hard to come by and if this guy was any good at working he would want to keep him for many years past those he would normally live. And if not, he would make a good crash course for when he found someone else to serve him. "What is your current pay?" May need to sweaten the deal. Sure, freeing the loudmouth might work. It might not be enough though, and he had planned on taking one of the boys alive, the fate of the other being unimportant, be they left abandonded in the mountain side, left in the town with no money and with an unfamiliar language, thrown into an asylum, tricked into heading to town and getting shot by the patrols... The last seemed the most likey. "Maybe offer him the other's freedom? Or servitude? Or a phial of elixer of hair tonic, that should do it. Maybe a racoon fuzed to a duck! Or a peal of sandstone for breaking open fossilized shells! " Then the cackling began, as he had spoken his thoughts allowed and felt no reason to hide his internal laughter.

The slouching man's face seemed to cloud over.

Mr. Hale was momentarily frightened by the hulking figure, before his pride smarted, "You blatantly insolent fool! Stay back! Molest me again and I swear-"

The hands returned, this time pulling at his pants, his pocket. Mr. Hale tried to push them away, but they grabbed onto the key ring within the fabric. Instead, he bunched up the material in spite, making it difficult to get the large keys out. He wouldn't let him have his property!

"Hands off, you cannot have these!"



Mr. Bourg pressed the reddening bandage into his arm, frowning when the man spoke of extra lives. He didn't want to become some horrid experiment like the thing which sat in the dirt beside him.

He glanced up, realizing the skeleton man had joined them, watching from a distance. The hollow-like eyes ran cold fear down his spine. No man should look like that... with their skin stretched so tight... He didn't want to go with these freaks. Become one of them…

Javier's attention snapped back to the doctors he asked how much the valet was paid. Not much. But lodging, food and clothing were included. None of it really mattered though,

"I've been serving him most of my life..." He offered as an explanation. He couldn't just desert the boy to his fate, not when they grew together under the same roof. Even if Mr. Hale did have a painfully sharp tongue.

"Maybe offer him the other's freedom? Or servitude? Or a phial of elixer of hair tonic, that should do it. Maybe a racoon fuzed to a duck! Or a peal of sandstone for breaking open fossilized shells! "

The man's cackling was dreadful-- "Stop!" Javier shouted, hand clenching over his wound and feeling slightly dizzy.

"Stop... I'll go with you." He said, softer. His gaze held the doctor's, "but you must insure Mr. Hale is returned to his home... And left in peace."

He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, then again, he was unaccustomed to having the power to choose for himself. It felt strange...

The Igor grabbed the idiotic boy. Could he really not see what might happen to him? Or was he finally getting it into his head that he would find himself in the hole? "Shut up, you-" He began to rattle out a line of curses in a variety of languages. He questioned his ability to fornicate, the sort of relatives he liked fucking, how his cock was so small that he went after child whores not even out of puberty. He ask why the hell he was doing out in that country, why he didn't go back to where he belonged, and bashed his body up and down onto the ground before lifting him by his throat, slipping back into a language which the boy might understand. "And now you are going to die. I'm not even going to bother burying you, I am going to EAT you bit by bit I am going to piss in your mouth for your drink, and you will eat your own castrated junk as I leave you outside to have guarddogs fuck your bloody new cunt!" He lifted the boy by his throat at this point as he tore at his pants.

Victor stopped after the boy seemed to break down, the giggles slowly petering off. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked as looked down. "He said that he will go and serve you if you send Monsiuer Hale back home." The skeletal man told Victor in French, as the boy seemed as if he would break down crying or become cataconic. "Ahh, well where is home?" Victor responded in the same language to the man as he gathered up tools. "He'll never know what happens to him. Most English are willing to forget their friends if they don't see each other often." He found something odd in his coat as he added the signet ring of the uncle into the pocket. They were the pistol balls. "Well, looks like I might as well give the signal." Victor continued, aiming and firing the pistol at the boy.

"What are you- UHGF!" Everhett didn't have time to tense before large hands grabbed him, roughly slamming him into the dirt and rock.

He shook his head, now completely terrified, not understanding what the man was growling out. It seemed to anger the man further. The language got fiercer, and so did his captor- picking him up by his shoulders and hurling him back into the earth. Over and over. Everhett's head whiplashed back to strike against the ground; disorienting him.

He managed a groan when the man's hands stopped, the furious, twisted face above him spinning. All of a sudden he felt strong fingers wrap around his throat, lifting him up. Mr. Hale's fingers scratched uselessly at the hands that held his windpipe closed, gurgling as he was brought closer to the man's stitched face. Everhett listened as the man finally spoke in English, frozen in horror. Ice pooled in his gut.

I-I'm not getting away...

It was a wretched realization; a fate he could not fathom. The boy tried to struggle as his face flushed red, gurgling more. He winced as the fabric of his breeches were ripped from his flesh, the cold wet air of night washing over his legs and limp cock, raising goosebumps. The pale flesh of the man quivered in the damp dark. He hadn't known toil during his privileged life, and thus his skin was smooth, covering his pitifully weak limbs- barely any muscles to support him. Still, he struggled, kicking out at his captor in vain,

"NGHH! Shhlop...Pllzz!" The boy slurred at the faintest hint of release on his throat, before the grip was taken up again, the boy slowly turning purple.




They seemed to be speaking in some sort of French... At least, the language sounded similar. Brown eyes traveled from the skeleton man to the doctor curiously. He could only pick out a few words, though he wasn't sure if they even meant the same thing in his mother's native tongue. Ah, finally it seemed they had come to a decision--

BANG.

Javier cracked opened an eye hesitantly after a few seconds, then quickly looked down to check himself,

"S-sir--..." Javier stuttered out in disbelief, visibly shaken.

He looked back up at the smoking pistol with wide eyes. Did the man mean to shoot him? Had he missed on purpose?

He shot at me...

In the light of whatever stars or moon was about, the Igor looked at the boy with a gleam in his eye as he licked the side of the boy's face, making sure he couldn't turn his head to bite his tongue. "Don't think of it so badly." He said with almost a seductive whisper, a strange mix between his booming deep lungs mixing with his accent as he pulled some of the tobacco off the boy's cheek, back into his mouth. "You will live on." He assured. "I shall take your beatitful cheeks and graft them to my own. Then your thighs shall pass through them, so succulent, with lightly marbled layerings as you are digest-" The pistol went off quiet a bit away. It would be difficult to mistake the distintive recoil from the handgun, far different than any shotgun or abequesers that they would have locally, lest some mercenaries had returned, in which case there would have been more than one shot. His hearing was so-so since that time as an intern in Notre Dame when the skeletal man found him, apparently disappointed that he wasn't as hideous as the previous occupant had been. "Looks like someone else is on the menu." He through the boy onto the ground, tearing the boy's jackets into several strips, then making a leash and collar for the boy, before trying to jam the shoes/boots onto the boy's hands, tieing them together and to his throat. It's time to go." He ordered as he pulled at the boy, tearing away the keys and entire front of the boy's pants before dragging him around.

"Speaking." Victor responded to the boy, watching for his response. He still hadn't moved. "My other assistant will be here soon, after he has finished any other business." Unless he headed to their lab. "Or did you wish to thank me for this wonderful opportunity to better your life?"

OOC: Sorry shoes stuff was godmoddish.

He shivered, the feeling of the warm, wet tongue trailing slowly up his cheek almost too much to bear.

Eat me?! He'll- The man's voice cut into his thoughts, its resonance vibrating through the man's chest and demanding Everhett's attention. He squirmed, disgusted and terrified of the man and his threats. The way his face lit up and the dark eyes glazed dreamily as he fantasized of Everhett's flesh out loud for him to hear,

"MhhhrRR!" The boy protested, trying to push the large face from beside his locks where it's warm breath purred it's sick nightmares into his ear.

A noise went off... Cracking through the trees. A gun? He was pushed down onto his back, allowing time for him to gasp for breath, and rub thankfully at the bruising that would no doubt show soon enough.. before the slouching man's hands came back to his throat to fasten something tight around the tender area. He didn't have much time to process that the material was his own expensive jacket before his arms were tied tightly around his shoes, then hung from the collar around his throat. He winced at the man's violent motions, and the sharp tug on his sensitive neck.

"Sto-Wha- Ahg!" He tried his best to cover himself by bending over, his knees coming together and knocking in the cold wind. The man's face burned bright red. Without the use of his hands, he couldn't reach down to retain any shred of dignity. Humiliated, he refused to meet the brute's eyes, staring stubbornly away and seething. Everhett muttered quietly to himself as he was half-dragged after the man; wet dirt and gravel digging into the soles of his feet,

"churlish, uncouth, vulgar barbarian..." At least whomever had shot the gun had spared him the madman's teeth. That he was thankful for, but didn't try to push his luck- his complaints staying barely audible. The loping, giant figure on the other end of the damned leash had inspired terror in the stumbling, small man.




Javier just shook his head, flicking his eyes over to the skeleton. Was he the one in charge of these men? The doctor was certainly a character, if not slightly off... Mr. Bourg's eyes peaked in interest when the doctor mentioned his assistant. He would know with certainty if Mr. Hale was alive if the slouching man arrived. Mr. Bourg hoped Mr. Hale had not suffered... the one with the shovel did not seem to have a patient humor. The valet's eyes returned to his new master's, that was, if his terms were honored.

"Thank you.. For not killing me." Javier forced the thanks past gritted teeth. It seemed a strange sentence, and left a foul aftertaste in his mouth. He shot a look at the gun still pointed at him. This man was toying with him, fishing for reaction and fear. It was nonetheless uncomfortable staring down the barrel of a gun, even a miniature one,

"Please lower your weapon.."



OOC: It's fine, I don't mind.

"Keep insulting me and I'll chew on your tongue." The Igor threated as he led the boy through the woods. It wasn't the easiest, leading the shortstuff along, who kept stumbling over whatever was in the way. Still, the other boy was apparently dead so he would be able to have his heart instead. With his courage. Thick, juicy courage... "Flattery would work far better for you." He pointed the shovel to the boys crotch, leatting the cold cirty metal scrape over his privates before it was removed, the pistol pointed in a way which would blow off the balls but leave the rest of his body intact. "Unless you want to be a castrato? Find you some Papist church to sing in? See if they will heal or save you?" As if. He started back on his forced march, yanking him closer to the grave area's outskirts.

Victor snorted, tossing the pistol to the boy, cursing that he hadn't thought to blow away the smoke from the pistol's mouth. Well, he would have a chance to later. "You are welcome." He replied, a bit impressed that the explosion from the gun hadn't even gained a clutching at his ears or relieving of his bowels. "But be more sincere. If I think you truthfully were thankful for my not killing you I would do it more often." He seemed to have some trouble with past and present tenses in English, but he could just as well have meant- No, no most of what he could have said would only be taken in one way. "Can you coook?" It would be a great advantage to have someone to prepare meals for them, even if they would need to be on the look out for poisoning. They could probably just have his only meals be from the food testing.

The cold grit was unkind to Mr. Hale's feet; soft soles unaccustomed to walking barefoot, much less walking in general. He was fairly sure they were rubbed raw. Then again, the Englishman had a habit of over exaggerating uncomfortable situations.

Everthett winced when it was made known to him the man could hear his mumbling, deciding now that his pride and dignity had been all but stripped of him, it best to shut his mouth now and keep his insults private.

Crazed cannibal… Eating a human.. eugh. He shivered. Everhett did not feel like pushing any more of his luck at the moment. Especially not while tied up and half naked, leashed to a violent killer. His shoulder blades still throbbed from where the strong man had slammed him into the dirt, and he was fairly sure he had a whole plethora of bruises flowering as they walked, not to mention the horrid chaffing from him trying to work his wrists free… And failing. The slouching man was not patient in waiting as Mr. Hale did his best to stumble along behind, awkward in his nakedness and fully aware of every gust of wind that decided to blow it's freezing cursed breath across their path.

Flattery…? Never! Mr. Hale shrunk back as much as the leash would allow as he turned to him. The man was apparently annoyed with waiting for him, but it could also be that Everhett's foul mouth and pompous attitude was getting to him. His hands clenched around his shoes and blood rose to his face once more as the cold mettle scraped across him, driving him to bite back an utterance of pain. Mr. Hale did not protest the feeling of dirt and mud wiped between his legs, instead preoccupied watching the man draw his pistol with wary eyes.

It… was getting closer to his-- "Alright!! Alright! I'm s-sorry!" He tried to pull out of the line of the sloucher's aim, but the large hands had a firm grip on his leash.

"I won't.. I won't insult you-!" Everhett yielded, flinching at the threat, then lurched forward once more- pulled along by the lead around his neck. Humiliating. But he took care not to let slip any verbal slights… The man had good hearing.





Mr. Bourg caught the gun awkwardly, checking it and finding no bullets. As to be expected. His captor would not have thrown the gun otherwise. He set it on the ground next to the ghoul.

Javier looked up, brows furrowing as he followed the man's words. Obviously this doctor held no reservations towards making it known that he was psychopathic. It placed Javier on pins and needles, and rightly so; as the threat to his life was not something this man seemed to waver on. He wondered faintly what would happen if he ceased to be useful, or made a mistake…

Let's not find out. Working alongside men such as these would be it's own horror, resurrecting dead bodies aside.


"Can you cook?"

The change of subject took him off guard, but Javier caught himself before any disbelief showed too prominently in his features. From threats to... Cooking? It wouldn't do to seem incompetent. With his position as the man's prospective new servant, he still held a bit of leverage… and that, might just be enough save his master, if he was indeed still alive..

"Yes. I cook for Mr. Hale. Though… It is Englishman's cuisine. If that is not to your taste, I'm sure I could learn." His eyes traveled to the darkness past the trees, searching for a sign of the man's slouching assistant and Mr. Hale, before they returned to the doctor for the formalities they had skipped over,

"My name is Javier Bourg. Do you have something you wish to be addressed as, Sir?" He almost choked on the formality, though his struggle with the last word was not too audible. Will I really work for such men? The answer was clear enough for the valet. He did not have a choice.

"See? You can be trained." He tugged more, then leaned over to scratch the teen behind his ear. "Now, I will need to think of a name for you... Rex? Fido? Emergency Rations?" He felt up his exposed stomache, tickling his stomache as he bit his ear. Releasing without tearing it off, he started pulling him again until they started reaching the grave area. "Wonder what happened to your friend? Did he let himself be shot to save you? Maybe he decided it would be better to let you be the experiment?" He rubbed over the boy's crotch to see if he could combine terror with self disgust over arousal. "Whatever it is, just stay close to me and I'll makesure you survive." Maybe he could break his mind and have his own personal slave.

"Mostly mutton, long pork, and meat pies?" Victor asked, thinking over Sawney Bean and the shop in Fleet Street. "I would have thought that your upper class would have had foreign diets. None the less. Perhaps you will manage a diet with less meat than my other assistant, Javier." He smiled down at the chance for free service with no pay. A foreign one as well. "You can try preparing things with my apprentice and will see if you can manage more vegetables than him." Apprentice... Might have been the appropriate word. Though you would need to pay more attention to the indentured servitude part than the teaching of the trade. "Most of the other assistants have not lasted long. They apparently run off when they can't handle the expetionally large dishes The Igor prepares on those days." He looked over at some approaching figures, making a signal in the lamplight and confusedly hearing a clear whistle in return. He wasn't that used to having his assitant with an empty mouth, but it was clear that it was him when they got closer.

Trained? You call that training?! God, this man was terrifying.

Everhett resisted when he was pulled closer to his body, turing his head away as rough fingers scratched him almost affectionately behind his ear. I'm not a dog! How dare he! First treating him like a commoner, then like less than even that. Like nothing more than a... a hound; dragging him around while he was indecent! He wanted to bite the man's fingers... But that would have been counterproductive in ridding himself of the animal comparison. Tch. He would not be trained by this man!

Mr. Hale stopped breathing as the fingers traveled down to his stomach, traveling up under his loose shirt. The touch trailed over his abdomen as sharp teeth came down on the top of his ear. Everhett sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as fear and a hot blush shot through him, but the warm mouth released his cartilage. A quick yank freed up the boy's frozen limbs. He followed on shaky legs as the man pulled him along, trying not to tremble and tear up like a woman would. I don't want to be eaten... Oh god, just please don't let him eat me.. He could still feel the man's bite lingering on the wet part of his ear. A cannibal for a captor. Of course. It was just his luck.


The slouching man spoke again to him, Everhett trying not to think about the implications of his words. Javier wouldn't have let himself be shot... No, certainly not. The man was-- ... So the man was an idiot. Of course he would let himself be shot, thinking it would "save" his master. Pah. Mr. Hale rubbed his wrists against his binds, wishing fervently he was free of them.

Experiment? Him? What experiment? This did not bode well..


"-Anh!" Mr. Hale stopped cold, immediately shrinking as far away from the man's warm touch as possible, his mind whipping into a frenzy,

WHA?! Why is he..? Why is he touching me?! That.. Uncivilized Bastard!!!

He bent his legs, trying to maneuver away as he was unable to guard himself with his hands.

"Whatever it is, just stay close to me and I'll make sure you survive."

Everhett glared from his strained position- the leash pulled as taunt as it would go, "Don't touch me!" He hissed; face and ears flushed bright red.




Vegetables...

Yes, he could do vegetables... And soups. Soup would be nice right now, in this cold climate... Mr. Bourg shook his head to clear his mind of his stomach's appeals. His arm throbbed dully with pain. He'd probably need the wound stitched as it still slowly oozed blood, staining the bandage further.

Igor.. That must be the name of the slouching man earlier. The one who took Mr. Hale... Javier turned his head towards the whistle that sounded distantly clear through the trees towards them. His eyes searched the darkness, only just faintly able to make out what seemed to be two figures. They were close together... Was Mr. Hale alive? Or was the thin man's assistant supporting a corpse?

"Mr. Igor, please keep within the acceptable limitations of the test." A voice had come from in the dark, different from any of those previously heard by the Englishmen that night." Igor sharply looked up, giving some slack to the boy as he looked into the trees above the nearby ledge. "You remember how Alphonse got things done." Igor had to admit that he was probably right. Montgomery had been rather clear at the last convention at how his employer would.. Well, probably best not to consider it again. Instead, he threw the boy to the ground, and began to drag his almost naked front on the ground by a leg for several yards before picking him up again, coming into the light with him.

"He is still alive?" Victor asked the Igor as brought forward the the beaten up boy. "You haven't already lobotomized him have you?" He asked, as lobotomization was one of the plans for making robots, much like the zombie and hypnotism options. "No, I left him for you." The man said grudgingly as he threw the exposed boy onto his friend. "What do we do?" He asked while Victor prodded the Englishmen with a stick. "It is a tough call. We could use this second one, but I think we can do with the first. Don't need to cut him up to get him to follow orders. But the spare might squeal..." The two chatted for a bit over what to do, how to cover their tracks, discredit the one they might or might not let go... "You, servant." He prodded Javier while his own assitant stood over them with a shovel. "Rape your previous employer. No going back after that." Igor gave his own two pence to that. "Or we can have him kill or eat him." Victor raised an eyebrow to that. "I was going to have himm work as a cook, now that you bringing it up, but I was thinking of him dealing with non flesh dishes. Maybe fish or fowl."

The boy jolted at the new voice, whipping his head around to see who it was. Why didn't he help him?! At least the cannibal had stopped biting and touching him.

Igor. That was what the invisible voice had called the hunchback...

Mr. Hale's breath huffed out in in surprise as he collided with the ground; his arms thankfully sparing his face but painfully catching all the weight of his shoulders on his forearms. The boy cried out and twisted in the man's grasp as he began to drag him over the dirt and gravel, sticks digging into his skin. The hunchback did not relent; roughly tugging him through the cold earth until the boy's pitched protests had died down into resigned sobs. He grunted in pain as Igor picked him up, falling heavily against his tormentor's side; breathing erratic from his cries.

Mr. Hale staggered into view; relying on the man beside him to keep his dirty, scrawny legs from collapsing. Never in his life had he been treated so cruelly… Been so humiliated. Paraded around in front of probing eyes like a animal, a meal. It began to dawn on him that these people didn't think of him as human. He was something lesser… Everhett would have scowled if he had the verve to be furious. Instead, all of his energy and attention focused on his fear of the man who was supporting his aching body, and the pain and cold he suffered from.



Javier stood still with his fists clenched as he watched the dark within the woods, confused; one of the shadows disappeared, then the protests rang out. The valet grit his teeth hearing his master's pitiful shouting and then bawling slowly subside.

There was silence as the big figure drew closer, then bent to pick up a body from the ground. It covered the rest of the distance supporting the slack form, before stepping into the light. Mr. Bourg's breath caught in his throat. He would not have believed it was his master before him, had it not been for the telling brown curls on the man's head that now stuck out chaotically around his face.

His face… Was surprisingly devoid of his usual sneer: eyes blown wide like a hunted animal, trembling lower lip bleeding from where he must have bitten it. His skin showed pale and dirty in the lantern light; scratches and filth adorning the flesh of his torso, his elbows bleeding, wrists red from where material held them tied tightly around his shoes. The valet's disbelief showed on his face as he caught the boy that was flung into him. Where had his clothes gone? What had happened? He now no longer saw the doctor's previous comment of rape and cannibalism as a joke.


Carefully the servant pressed his shirt sleeve Mr. Hale's face, wiping away the mix of dirt, filth and tears. The boy's bloodied arms pressed into his shirtfront, staining it, but it was nothing compared to the state Everhett's shirt was in. The boy's exposed body was shivering in the cold air, his genitals shriveled up between his quaking legs. Javier averted his gaze, his brows knotting. He wouldn't dare draw his employer closer to warm him, not when he was like this. What should he say?...


"You, servant."

Javier glanced up as the stick dug into his side again.

"Rape your previous employer. No going back after that."

This time, Mr. Bourg did nothing to disguise his horror, "I c-can't do that…" He stuttered, disgusted, "I will not!"

"Or we can have him kill or eat him."

"I don't want to die…" Everhett moaned in his arms, thin fingers strangling his servant's vest.

Javier's eyes flicked between their captors. Demented men. "That's right- I'll cook for you. Anything you want. Just don't kill him... Set him free. Let him go home!"

"We will be ending the exam at this point." The skeletal man cut in, glancing at a pocket watch. "There is little point in continuing at this point, when the stated experiment has seemed to have both failed and devolved into blackmailing a person into manual labor." Truely, he couldn't say that he was either disappointed or disgusted. He hadn't raped or cannibalized within memory, though he had executed people by the dozens and constructed torture chambers. "We shall remain in the area until the next coach comes through. You will know where to find us if you have managed to salvage anything from this failed endeavour." And with that the two men noisily closed their notepads and vanished completely from view. But had they really left? The footsteps suggested so.

"You shouldn't have brought up that disgusting cannibalism joke." Victor snapped at the Igor, who seemed rather unrepentant about it, and was instead looking over the three bodies tangled on the ground. "We need to get them past the point of no return, Vicky. Drop the charade." Some singing had floated from the paths leading away, shrinking into the distance. "Venquilitrism. New ears, remember?" A notepad was jotted into at the comment by Igor, then the skeletal man took remains of the broken, glowing rosary, leaving again and showing he had truely headed off. "Anyways, I psychologically tormented shorty here were enough, but we need something more pysichal-" The Igor to stumble over that word, so Victor took over "-Or they will wonder if he was really done over by his servant, I KNOW." The two stood there for a bit before Victor shrugged. "Well, get the prybar. If Mr. City(Bourg) won't penetrate him we will go for something rougher."

Everhett let out a sigh of relief when Javier refused to force himself on him. They may be calling him their servant, but he still had his loyalty. He felt slightly safer in the man's arms, away from the teeth and violent hands of the hunchback. What sort of barbarians were these to even consider having sex with a man?!

Javier was again asking for his freedom, it sparked a bit of hope in Mr. Hale, but the men seemed to ignore him for the most part. All he wanted to do was get far away... Far far away and never think of this humiliating, horrific, nightmarish night ever again. Mr. Hale did nothing to stop his valet's pleas. He needed to get away... Even at the expense of his childhood servant.




"Stop, wait! Where are you going? What is this "exam"?" Javier called after the skeleton man. Why was he leaving them? Did he not see these men were insane? He left after picking up his rosary.

At the mention of psychological torture, the boy in his arms let out another sob, trying to bury his face in the valet's shoulder. Mr. Bourg's eyes followed the men's conversation, then glanced at the shovel that the doctors servant held casually. His arm was bruised from where the volatile man bashed him before, back in the tomb.

"What do you mean by "done over"?" Javier asked carefully as Everhett's fingers twisted tighter in his vest, "What exactly have I done?"

Or, more like what would they pass off as his doing... Something physical? They couldn't mean rape!

"I'll go with you I said, there's no need to hurt him.." Javier said faintly, clutching at straws. He didn't even know if his input even mattered at this point- if the men were just going to take what they wanted, and do what they would with the rest. Begging, pleading, did it faze these men in the slightest?


Both Englishmen's eyes went wide at the mention of "something rougher." Mr. Hale started to shake again, thinking of the prybar and being in the hands of the cannibal once more. All Mr. Bourg could comprehend was that it was something rougher than rape. He sat up, moving the bound Mr. Hale as best he could behind him.

"Sir, don't hurt him." Javier repeated, imploring the doctor. Javier looked over at the doctor's assistant, not understanding why they were doing these things to them. What their motives were. But if they must hurt someone... Mr. Hale, Everhett, was weaker than he, "Beat me instead."

"You do not seem to understand." Victor said as the Igor began his attempt to lever the prybar into the broken boy's ass. "We need to make it convincing. Make sure you have nothing to run back to, so short of ransoming you two or keeping both-" He watched as one of the boy's either scootched behind the other or one moving infront of the over. He didn't pay much attention to which was which. "I really don't see why you are protecting him. You have everything backwards. The lower classes are supposed to work, serve, and pay for every whim of the aristorcacy, who are in turn supposed to protect those who make eveything so comfortable for them." He droned on for a bit like this as the Igor took a packet out from under his coat. He opened it, looking over various hunting knives. "Put them back, that is only for if we need to fake his murder and robbery." Victor instructed, getting a huff from the Igor as he put them down, taking the prybar to approach the two again.

"This isn't about beating him. Spread his ass. Something goes in it. This pole, a knife, my boot... Or you can be gentler. Vicky is being far to lenient on you two, so I will be the one to draw the line." He loomed over the two, driving the bar into the ground behind the Hale guy, looking down at the two tented between his body and the pole. "One of you as going to be sodomized, whether by man or tool. This will happen whether they are alive or dead. You both have until the count of twenty to decide who it will be, and if it will be alive or dead. Twenty. Nineteen..."

"Protecting him?" Javier sputtered, as he felt the boy's fingers dig into the shirt on his back.

It was true, Everhett Hale hadn't lifted a finger for him. That was the way Mr. Hale was... Scared, unaccustomed to not having power. Perhaps Javier felt pity for him, but it was more than that. He owed Hale and his father for taking his family in and allowing him to stay. Teaching him. He held out his hands when he saw the assistant draw out some hunting knives; getting cut open again was not something he liked the idea of. To his relief the man put them away reluctantly, but then he hefted the prybar instead.

The hunched man was blunt. Everhett gave another self-pitying moan at the threat of rape. The man lent over them, casting them into shadow before the metal pole came down with a ominous thunk behind the boy. They both looked up; cold eyes gleamed down into their own with a sort of sadistic light. Everhett wished he could simply melt into the earth, instead the best he could do was use Javier as a shield.

"S-sodomised.." Javier stumbled over the word, finally realizing what it would take to make these men let Mr. Hale go.

It had to look like he was raped, so the townspeople would believe the valet had left willingly after taking advantage of his employer. Mr. Hale himself would be less likely to talk out of shame, and wouldn't take Javier back again even if he did manage to somehow escape and find his way back. They would not be hurting Everhett... He would. And Everhett Hale would be able to leave, as requested. It was a clever plan... Their captors were not idiots.




As soon as the countdown began, Everhett started to panic.

"Eighteen." The hunched man's smooth, deep voice bearing down on them from above.

"Javier, you can't let them do this." Everhett whinged, grabbing his valet's shirt as best he could.

"Sir, they will kill you-"

"No, Javier there has to be another way!"

Seventeen."

Everhett Hale was close to tears, the hunchback's sharp knives and the large pole in his mind's eye.

"There is another way…" His valet began slowly, not meeting his former master's eyes. "I could.." He couldn't get the words out of his mouth.

"Sixteen."

"Absolutely not!" Everhett set his jaw tightly, fighting to keep the blush from his cheeks and the utter fear and despair from his eyes, "T-thats not an option!"

"Or you could…" It was Javier's turn to have his cheeks burn slightly, still not meeting Mr. Hale's eyes. "You could...If that suits you.. To me." He would do that much to spare his childhood friend. Even if Mr. Hale did not see him as more than a simple servant. He was loyal to a fault.

"Fifteen."

"Ugh! Javier, don't insult me! I would never degrade myself in that manner, " Everhett looked down his nose at Javier, miffed, current situation somewhat forgotten in his anger.

"Fourteen." Until Igor's voice reminded him. "Thirteen."



"Please sir, Rhett, we haven't much time. You must do something, or they'll-"

"When did you start thinking you could give me orders?" Everhett hissed at his valet, voice dripping in destain, "Listen carefully Javier. I will not have you, of all people, dictating my fate."

"Ten." He must have been slightly delusional; grasping at the last strands of power available- his influence over his servant. Even though the valet's actions up until now had been to help him, everything seemed to be forgotten under the new stress poised.

"Nine." "I will make my own decisions." Everhett spat. His valet's face remaining stony as Javier gave him a nod.

"Eight."

The humiliation would surely kill him...



Mr. Hale stood quickly on shaky legs, bound hands reaching out towards the slouching man's coat. They settled there gently; bunching the material into his palms and drawing himself closer. Closer than he'd like to be to the rather large man.

"Igor..." Everhett began, using the name for the first time and forcing his eyes up to stare into the slouching man's, "you--you said you would make sure I survived if I stayed close to you…" The boy pressed himself slightly against the man, trying his best not to tremble,

"I'm close now..."

It was a gamble even approaching this man. No knowing what he'd do. Everhett glanced over at the man named "Vicky,"

"You said you might keep us both. Then you would not have to do this..." Despite his best efforts the boy's voice cracked, showing his fear.

Pathetic. Both of them. Victor watched, seeing how the servant kept offering himself to someone who treated him like garbage. Hypocrite and elitist that he might be, even he knew that good help was hard to come by. Seriously, offering to sodomize the other or to be sodomized? It was beneath his dignity and would have only lowered himself even further in the eye of the ingrate. But he was more disappointed in him. "Fifteen." He joined in the Igor with counting as he packed up what remained into a wheelbarrow, alongside a brush to attach to a pole so as to disguise the imprint of the wheels through the dirt. In his eyes his experiment had been screwed over by those two on the ground and he was going to make them pay somehow, be it through rape and seperation or by some other, more useful mean. He eyed the Englishman who crawled to the Igor, a blush on his face.


Pathetic. Both of them. Igor mentally weighed those in front of him, calculating for how long after they died that he would be able to use their holes. Hey, there weren't that many whores about, and Victor wasn't happy about the time he used that beating heart. He kept his eyes on the one who seemed to have had more babyfat on, though it could have been because he was the only one with exposed skin. "Fifteen." Victor was getting bored, it would seem. It was fun watching the two squabble over who lived or who died, but they really did have better things to do. Javier apparently had experience serving the more pigheaded of people, but didn't have any sense of self-preservation. He hadn't seen what Victor had during the time they were seperated, so he put him pretty low on his scale of the likelihood to survive. He continued counting as the wealthier boy came up to him. "Seven." The Igor fondled the kid thoughtfully, then decided upon the course of action. "I'll keep you as a pet." He then bent over, and spoke right into Hal'es ear. "You'll be sleeping in the closet until I can find you a maid's outfit. Then you will be sleeping with me."

Javier grimaced, looking down and away as Mr. Hale offered himself up to the slouching man's whims.

There wasn't anything he could do, Everhett had made it clear he didn't want his help. Not that he could actually help him... He didn't really have anything he could barter with except his own servitude, but that was barely enough to keep him in good standing with the doctor. As long as he was useful, Javier reasoned he should be able to survive.

His former master on the other hand would need to humor the beast of a man he had pleaded to. A feat which Javier wasn't quite sure Everhett would be able to handle. The man's pride was too large for him to swallow for long, Javier feared he would do something stupid and get hurt. Then again, from what he witnessed, being hurt by these people would always be a possibility. The boy's nature led him to be cocky and defiant... until fear overlapped his pride... Either way they had lost; according to the man Igor, all he had done was drag out the inevitable.



"Sleep with y-?"

Everhett swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in his throat, shutting his eyes as the voice breathed huskily into his ear. At least he was out of the fire for now, it had worked- appealing to the man. He'd deal with the rest later, but for now he was just thankful that it had saved his hide. He was still breathing and hadn't been violated... Javier, that idiot. Always following rules, unable to see any way out of them. Hah. He had proved yet again he was superior to the common folk with their tiny brains. Everhett let the brief self-satisfaction wash over him, trying not to think too hard about his current situation.

The boy tried to endure the searching fingers that played with him between his legs, but he couldn't help shrinking away slightly, "Th-thank you." He finally forced the words past tight lips. Not thanking the man for claiming him as a "pet", which was ridiculous as he would never accept it, but for sparing his life.

A maid?

Was that to be his station? A lowly cleaning man? No, worse than that; as he would have to wear women's clothing. Ugh. Mr. Hale hid his scowl as he dipped his head. The man before him seemed to wish to break his pride, humiliate him until... what? All these questions were hurting his head. He couldn't do anything about it for now.



Meanwhile, Javier stood, unable to listen to any more. He did his best to keep his posture, though the blood loss was taking a toll. The man came to a stop beside the doctor, bowing his head respectfully. Formalities despite the horrors of what he had been subject to.. As a servant should. "Sir, what would you like to do with the body?" Mr. Bourg's voice was unemotional, controlled. He gestured to the ghoul that still lay on the cold gravel. "What would you have me do?"

"Drag it along" Victor instructed as he looked at Hale with raised eyebrow. "Toss it into the wheelbarrow, if you like. "He took out the pule used for covering there tracks so as to make room for the uncle. "We have spent long enough out here. Follow me back to where we are staying, then we can deal with the rest of your work." He was no longer in the mood for chitchat, laughing at their victims, staying out in the wet night... "Quickly, though. Before what ever the villagers fear at night arrives." He took the lantern and headed out in front, basically the most conspicious target of the group.

Igor grabbbed and squeezed the boy's 'parts' before tossing him to his former servant. "You're to make sure he doesn't do anything funny. If he misbehaves you will punish him. Understood?" He began pushing the two from behind to join in the march to their hideaway. It was a combination fort and skilodge which had been built a mile away from the village, though the winding roads made it seem much longer. It looked over a ledge of thirty feet, where many broken wagons lay dashed upon the rocks, the bodies and supplies being stripped off them and brought to the fort. "We can change him into a girl in a few days, and you will be rewarded with first go."

"Yes sir." Javier hefted the half-dead man, laying him in the wheelbarrow, and taking up the handles. He was heavy, but the uneven road posed more of a threat to him in terms of dropping it. The valet wondered faintly what the doctor meant by mentioning something the "villager's feared", and if it could possibly be crueler that the men they were now beholden to.


Everhett hissed through his teeth at the rough treatment of the man's warm hands. The hunchback pulled and squeezed him, sending a bit of pleasurable pain up the boy's spine. Mr. Hale hadn't married off, nor had he ever been touched so forwardly. It felt disgusting, yet he noticed to his horror that the fondling had aroused his cock somewhat despite the cold. Being pushed to Javier, Everhett turned away from Igor, trying to hide the semi-erection. It would cool off in the freezing wind by the time they made it to their destination, surely.


"Understood." Mr. Bourg nodded to the hunchback, though he wasn't quite sure what 'punishment' entailed. The men must know that he wouldn't bring harm to Mr. Hale-

"Javier." Mr. Hale cut in quietly, walking beside him as they made their way after the doctor and his lantern. "Don't interfere any more. Leave my fate to me." The valet was about to protest, but Everhett cut him off again, "You think me incompetent? Furthermore… You are not indebted to me any longer."

Mr. Bourg looked down at his charge, stunned.

"You don't serve me. You serve them." Mr. Hale made his slow whisper cuttingly clear.

The valet almost stopped in shock. Was he to be despised by the man he'd served his entire life? "But sir-"

"No, Javier. You work for them. Thus, I can't trust you." Blue eyes glared up into brown. "I don't know what they have planned for me, but just stay away. I'll work free somehow, I won't die." The boy's face was resolute. His tone cold, pushing his valet away.



The wheelbarrow shook in Mr. Bourg's hands. He knew what the slouching man wished to do to Mr. Hale. Perhaps this was Everhett's way of repaying him, keeping him safe. No doubt he'd do something stupid to save his former master, and Mr. Hale knew that. But the boy was somewhat clever... He had already wiled his way out of being raped and maimed. Perhaps he could... No. The odds were sacked against him. Frowning, the valet did as he was told and kept silent, even when he saw the boy's strides becoming more haphazard, the soles of his feet bleeding from lacerations on the rocks.

Finally they made it to the men's lodging. It looked more like a fort, built on the side of a cliff... He waited behind the doctor for entrance, but turned when he heard the deep voice of the hunchback carry over tauntingly to him. Girl?! What? Was Everhett to become another of their experiments? Mr. Bourg opened his mouth, but shut it when he caught the scowl Mr. Hale shot him.