Gula Invidia: Black Market (XIV): Losing Control Of The Situation

  --- Booker H. Freeman ---

  The return to consciousness was a slow, murky affair. The darkness desperately clinging to his thoughts even as he opened his eyes, vague awareness alerting him to the fact that-

  (Gluttony: We’re being moved. Through a door, down a hall up some stairs, and further still.)

  (W-what?)

  (Pride: Hmm, even with our healing factor our main mind still seems to be concussed, even though we’re all active. Curious…)

  (Envy: Our existence is a bit more ephemeral. More connected to the soul than the body, but given how the soul can influence the body…)

  (Sloth: Trauma is trauma. Some of us are just disassociating more easily than others.)

  (Wrath:…)

  He was dropped on the ground, his head impacting it with a thud he barely felt, before his hands were bound and he was left laying there. His body intact, his soul bickering, and his mind feeling so utterly dull.

  Not that this prevented him from noticing the legs of someone in a white suit making their way over, before kicking him. “So this is the fucker that gave us so much trouble tonight.” There was a faint pause. “Not that he didn’t have help.”

  “Boss, I…” A vaguely familiar voice began.

  “You got your ass kicked by a fucking rabbit.” The first voice interrupted. “You’re lucky the fucker ran out of Sin or I’d have to wait for your sorry ass to res!”

  (Pride: Not quite what happened.)

  (Greed: We’ve still a fair amount of Sin to work with.)

  He could still feel the power in his core, even if he couldn’t quite grasp it with the way his focus seemed to come and go.

  (Sloth: That’ll happen when you numb yourself out so bad you forget to heal.)

  (Gluttony: How can you forget an instinct so basic?)

  (Wrath:…)

  A hand grasped him by his hair, and lifted him off the ground until he was staring into a pair of yellow reptilian eyes, scales creeping around both their edges and that of a fanged maw.

  (Sloth: Tch. Too dazed to make the kill.)

  (Huh?)

  “You got anything to say to that?” The reptilian face asked him with a sneer.

  He blinked, before with a dazed grin admitting. “Nope.”

  The reptilian eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?”

  He considered that for a moment, before making his best guess with, “Two-toed Tom? Your face does look like a gator blown up by dynamite.”

  Off to the side there was the faint sound of a laugh turned cough, one that was quickly glared into submission by the gator faced man. A glare that was turned onto Booker with a snarl, moments before he caught a fist to his face and went skidding across the floor.

  (Wait… who is Two-toed Tom again?)

  (Pride: A legendary man-eating alligator from the border of Florida and Alabama, said to be over forty feet long and to have survived numerous attempts to kill it.)

  Surprisingly, rather than making his concussed state worse he found his thoughts invigorated by the taste of his own blood, something that he couldn’t help but smile at. “Oh, come now! Are you really that offended by being compared to a legend? Personally I’d be flattered if they compared me to such a figure!”

  A chuckle drew his attention to the drunken bear man he’d fought earlier, albeit looking quite sober and human if a bit more battered and bruised. “Like St. Germain?”

  (Pride: The vampire of New Orleans. Said to have been active in the early twentieth century, throwing lavish parties and consuming no food save for wine later discovered to be blood.)

  “Well I am quite partial to the taste of blood!” He admitted with a grin, even as his previous statement made the man’s face twist.

  His head was suddenly slammed into the floor that he now realized was a glass window overlooking the destroyed fight cage below.

  “That’s good because you’re going to be tasting a lot of blood by the time we’re through with you.” The gator man told him, pressing his face into the ground.

  He glared up at the man daring to so rudely assault his person, before slowly smiling a mouth full of fangs as his now clear mind realized just how similar the gator man was to the description Beez’el had given him earlier. “I’m sure I will.”

  (Gluttony: Your blood to be specific~)

  Reptilian eyes narrowed, picking up on his threat before backing off and turning to the man Booker had fought in the cage. “Since the rest of our guys are still piecing themselves together, I want you to drag him in the back and make sure he regrets crossing me in my club.”

  The other man grimaced. “Ah, Boss I’m not sure that’s-”

  Rather than waiting for the bear to finish, the gator man stormed over while pulling out a small black device in his hand. “Don’t tell me you’re going to turn into a bitch because of one little beating. I would’ve thought you’d be itching for some payback after he laid you out in front of everyone.”

  The bear sinner glanced at the black device with a worried look.

  (Curious…) His eyes narrowed, as he picked up the faintest of spell songs.

  (Envy: A trigger for some kind of spell engine… I can’t tell what the engine actually does without hearing or seeing it though.)

  The bear swallowed. “I’ll take care of it boss…”

  “See that you do.” The gator nodded, tucking the device back in his jacket before spreading his arms wide with a smile. “But hey when the rest of our guys res back up and get itching for their turn you can go back to drinking yourself stupid.”

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  “R-right…” The bear nodded back before making his way towards Booker, a resigned look on his face. One that twisted even further when Booker met his eyes.

  (Lust: Interesting…)

  (What is?) He wondered as the bear pulled him onto his feet.

  “Come on, don’t make this harder than it has to be…” The man told him, more quietly adding “Please…” at the end.

  (Lust: He feels guilty doing this…)

  (Pride: What man wouldn’t feel guilty knowing they’re little more than a collared dog?)

  (Gluttony: Literally.)

  Booker’s eyes darted to a black collar around the bear’s throat before he started vaguely moving in the direction he was being gently pushed.

  (Sloth: Alright, I see what you mean. This isn’t how a guard treats the prisoner who just kicked his teeth in.)

  (Lust: Exactly, he’s not behaving to his role! We’re missing context…)

  (Perhaps but we’re also in something of a pinch.) He pointed out as he followed the bear sinner’s lead. (If we’re to accomplish our goals we need to figure something out.)

  (Gluttony: Could try for an ambush. Won’t be easy but we could take him.)

  (Wrath: Let’s not do anything rash… We… We’re both in rather poor condition. Mending yes, but a fight would not do us well even if we managed to isolate the man.)

  (Envy: Actually, if we could get our hands on that collar… I might be able to do something. It’s giving off a spellsong, one that’s similar to that device from the gator just need a bit to figure it out.)

  While he busied himself deciphering the spell, his guard led him into a large room where the man began to pace back and forth while mumbling to himself and occasionally glancing Booker’s way with a mixed expression.

  (Sloth: Whatever this is I think we’ve got time. Maybe our minion can do something useful while we’re stuck here?)

  --- Lydia ‘Smith’ ---

  The emptiness of the halls did little to soothe her nerves, the echoing quiet actually fraying them far worse. The sense of too quiet suspense reminding her of places that the Smiling Man had visited back in Ira Invidia.

  She tried to tell herself this was Booker’s doing but… (old instincts are hard to beat…)

  “Hey, I hear something.” Beez’el hissed, tilting his head and raising a hand as they came to a set of stairs leading both up and down. “Can hear music coming from down there so that’s the club, but I hear people up there.”

  “And we’re looking for people.” V nodded, taking a breath before glancing her way. “You ready to do this kid.”

  She felt her hands drifting towards the charm Booker had given her to learn magic, her mind drifting back to the lessons he’d given her. “Yeah… I think I’m good.”

  “Blast ‘em and ask questions never!” Beez’el grinned, clapping her shoulder. “Can’t go wrong with that kind of plan!”

  “As long as smiles can keep them distracted enough to ignore whatever noise we’re making here.” V scoffed, even as she began flexing her own claws.

  “Which is why we hit ‘em fast and hit ‘em hard.” The red Inferni nodded running up the stairs three steps at a time.

  “Shit!” V cursed chasing after him.

  Her fingers gripped the talisman in her hand as she marched up the stairs, her mind repeating what Booker had told her a few hours prior. (Suffering, Vengeance, and Rebellion. Suffering, Vengeance, and Rebellion.)

  Coming up the stairs she caught sight of female Inferni laying behind two guards standing over her. At least until Beez’el leapt onto one’s back and began stabbing his knife into them over and over again.

  (Suffering… Vengeance… And Rebellion…)

  The second guard kicked Beez’el off the first, before drawing a gun and firing at the Inferni who managed to skitter around as the bullets shattered tile. At least until one ripped through his forearm, just before a snarling V tore out the guard’s throat with her claws.

  (Lifeless eyes stared out from within the cage, unwilling to leave despite the gate being open. A state of things so dreadfully common that neither Beez’el nor V were truly surprised as they tried to help their brethren.

  Brethren long since beaten into submission…)

  (Like I was…)

  It finally began to click in her head.

  (Pain filled her as she laid on the ground, limp from the beating she’d gotten for daring to open her mouth at the wrong time. Something she’d long since grown used to.)

  A third guard rushed out of a doorway gun in hand, withdrawing the charm from her pocket as words sacred as a prayer graced her lips, “The suffering…”

  (She glared at the swastika on his back, as he continued to rant and rave at her. An impotent rage filling her as she was once more forced to just stand there and take it.)

  “Desire vengeance…”

  (She refused to take this anymore. And so she stuffed what little she possessed into a bag and ran, aware that it meant she would always be running.

  Uncaring so long as she was free for even a moment…)

  “Fueling rebellion…” She raised the charm, black and white electricity danced across her fingers.

  (The burning bottle flew through the air, hurled with all her strength, before colliding with the banner and setting that wretched symbol on fire. A feeling of euphoria rushing through her veins at her ‘metamorphosis’.)

  “And changing themselves…” A blast of power rushed toward the guard before he could react.

  (She couldn’t help the mad laughter that bubbled out of her as she realized that the Smiling Man had gone limp, that she had killed the most dangerous monster in Ira Invidia.)

  “So they may end the suffering…” The cursed energy struck the guard’s face, devouring all in its path and leaving nothing behind.

  In the wake of the brief if gruesome bout of violence, a solemn sort of silence fell over them as the headless corpse fell to the ground.

  At least until someone yelled, “Way to go mini-bitch!”

  She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a faint grin coming to her lips in spite of the situation as she looked at the energy still crackling along the charm.

  “Dumbass this is why we don’t ‘hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast’.” V scolded the other Inferni as she inspected the wound on his arm.

  “Is it bad?” Lydia asked, her face twisting as she saw the blood.

  “Nah, it's a graze at worst.” Beez’el waved her concern off. “V can fix it in a few minutes tops.”

  “Should just leave you to bleed.” Said inferni argued, even as a pink glow began to flow from her hand into Beez’el’s arm.

  With another roll of her eyes as the pair began to bicker Lydia turned towards the other Inferni before grimacing at the way they flinched away from her.

  Something tugged at her leg, and she found Beez’el’s tail pulling at her. “Hey, we’ll take care of her. You see if you can find the key in the office.”

  “Right…” She sighed. (Here’s hoping this is the security office and we didn’t just find some random assholes…)

  Her eyes kept drifting towards the body as she stepped over it, part of her curious about the damage, part of her repulsed at what she’d done, and another part ecstatic that she’d managed to cast a spell.

  (I… I need to focus.) She told herself as she looked around the room, which while a fair bit more cramped than she’d been expecting did look like a security station of some kind with a small handful of screens arranged on a desk.

  What really drew her attention however was the very complicated looking series of interconnecting circles of colored pain on the walls. Circles that looked very similar to the graffiti she’d seen throughout the fight pit. (This must be the security system Booker warned us about…)

  She had no idea what any of it did, but (Booker said something about hearing spell songs, right?)

  Closing her eyes she tilted her head and tried to see if she could hear… anything coming from the graffiti. Only to get silence.

  “Any luck on finding that key?” Beez’el asked from the doorway.

  “Still looking, found some magic stuff but I think it’s more for the security not the collars.” She shrugged.

  “Huh, maybe V can figure it out?” Beez’el suggested, eyes drifting over everything. “I know shit about magic compared to her and… That can’t be good…”

  “What?” She frowned, turning to the Inferni before following his gaze to the screens where she watched an unconscious Booker being dragged into a room that didn’t have a camera.

  “Uh, that’s got to be part of Smile’s plan, right?” Beez’el grimaced, already knowing the answer.

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