Mania and the Executioner (27 page)

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Authors: A. L. Bridges

BOOK: Mania and the Executioner
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“Alright,
what kind of trouble are we dealing with?” I ask as Cheza inspects the scene with concern.

“It’
s Lila…” Dagda says and puts a hand on my shoulder.

We p
ort to the gate/gazebo. Dagda snaps his fingers and we arrive in the foyer of Aine’s palace. Dagda leads me through a series a corridors until we reach a hallway where I see Aine, a man that must be the head butler, and someone who is possibly a security guard.

“Aine, what’s going on?” I ask
, businesslike in my approach. Aine looks like a nervous wreck.

“Lila has barricaded herself in her room and she isn’
t responding to us…” Aine explains, panicking slightly.

I expand my hearing and
listen in to the room. I hear Lila crying quietly and whispering something in the back left corner. The crying is muffled, most likely by clothing or a blanket, so I can’t make out what she is whispering.

“I’m going to break the door down; is that alright Aine?” I ask as I reach into my pocket
. Aine nods the affirmative.

“Oh, and it’s als
o going to make a bit of a mess so I need you two to go get a mop, a bucket, and blacksmithing hammer.” I say to the other two men just to get them out of here because I don’t trust them enough to show them how I make the Mu-cutter. They nod and run off.

I pull out my switchblade and
slice my right wrist open, just below the bracelet. I form the Mu-cutter and slash a giant X through the door. The door falls to pieces and the large dresser that is barricading it practically explodes. I disengage the Mu-cutter and I walk slowly across the room towards Lila. Aine starts to follow me in, but Dagda stops her for some reason.

Lila is in the corner with a blanket over her
, cowering in the same fashion as she was three nights ago. As I approach her, I pick up her quiet whispering.

“No more…please…just make it stop…” Lila whispers while shaking in the corner.

“Lila…it’s alright now…you aren’t there anymore…you’re safe.” I say softly to her.

She flinches away in response and tries to move further into the corner. I notice that she appears to be naked under the blanket.

“No…” Lila says slightly louder.

I kneel down beside her and she tries to back up further
, but finds she’s unable and starts to hyperventilate. This probably isn’t the right thing to do, but I grab her, pull her into my chest, and proceed to hold her tenderly.

“No! Don’t touch me!” Lila screams as she
uses her fingernails to tear my chest apart through my t-shirt. About two minutes later, my chest is ripped into red confetti and Lila’s frantic scratching slows down as she starts crying harder.

“Lila…it’s me, Cole. Everything is going to be okay.” I say calmly. I’m glad that I don’t really bleed
, otherwise there would blood all over my shirt, and Lila doesn’t need that extra trauma.


Cole?” Lila asks as though she is waking up. I lift the blanket slowly off of her face while pushing her away slightly so she can see.

“COLE!” Lila c
ries out when she sees my face.

She throws her arms around me as she cries into my newly scratch-free chest. I just hold her gently for the five minutes it takes for her to calm down.

“I thought you were that man again…like before…like in my nightmare…” Lila says and starts crying again.

“Shhhh, everything is going to be okay Lila…” I wait for a few minutes for her to calm down again. This probably isn’t a good thing to ask, but I need the information.

“Lila, what did this man look like?” I ask softly.

“He was taller than you, had long silver hair, and these menacing steel-blue eyes that looked maniacally happy when he laughed as he…as he…” Lila says as tears start to fall down her face.

“Shhhh. Lila, that’s enough; you don’t have to think about that ever again.” I say, trying to snap her out of the memory.

“Do you want to go back to my house? Ther
e’s cake!” What do you say to a thirteen year old girl who was just stuck in a memory from when she was getting raped?

She thinks for a moment
before nodding and turning her face back into my shirt. I lift her up and use my left forearm to support her blanketed bottom as she holds onto my front, like a baby orangutan clinging onto its mother. I look at Aine for permission and she nods in response.

“Here, let’s get you dressed first…oh…” I say while setting her down as I look at the explosion of cut-up garments everywhere.

I grab the nearest pair of hole-less panties that I can find and I hold them open for her to step inside them. I slide them up her legs and underneath the blanket that Lila is holding around her at hand level so that it creates a large V from her shoulders to her pelvis. After I reach the top of her legs, I notice something that causes rage to start bubbling inside me.

There are two hand shaped bruises on her hips.

I grab a dress and throw it on her and then I pick her up again. I feel her shaking…no wait, that’s me.

“Cole? Cole what’s wrong?” Cheza says, smashing her way into my mind.

“I’ll tell you later.” I say sternly as I close the connection.

I look over and nod at
Dagda; he simply snaps us to the gate, puts a hand on my shoulder, and ports us to the house.

I walk
through the front door and set Lila down on the couch.

“Wait here,” I say
softly to Lila and head to Natasha’s room. I knock on her door as I open it; thankfully Natasha is clothed in jeans and a light green graphic t-shirt.

“Natasha, can you come and hang out with Lila for a little while?” I ask her sternly. My face must have told her that what we had talked about last night has turned out to be true, because she follows me to the living room without question. Natasha sits next to Lila on the couch and turns on the TV while I cut a slice of cake for Lila.

“Hey Lila, can you stay here and hang out with Natasha for a little while until I get back?” I ask. Lila looks a little worried about me leaving, but she nods and takes a bite of cake. I walk out the front door to where Dagda is waiting.

“I need some information. I assume you were listening in; does anyone fit that description?” I ask.

“Well, given the circumstances, I’d say it was Fenrir, son of Loki and master of werewolves…” Dagda says.

“Fenrir…port us back to Tir
na nOg please.” I say while clenched and shaking with my eyes shut.

Dagda
ports us to the gate and then to an open field.

“Dagda…can you make homunculi since we are in your realm? I need to kill something or I’m going to snap.” I ask
, eyes still shut as I shake slightly.

“I
can create an illusion of them. They will react like people would but they’ll be fake, without consciousness.” Dagda says.

“Perfect…can you make them have blood?” I ask.

“That I can.” Dagda answers.


Do it…please.” I request, barely containing the rage inside me that tells me to render the flesh from bones and destroy everything.

The illusion pops up: twenty armed soldiers around me in an arena of rubble while the sky glows red. My helmet wraps around my
head as I draw my sword, and take off. I slice and hack all of them to pieces at a speed that doesn’t even allow for their blood to get on me. I hack up the final group of five men at the same time. I stand there, allowing their blood to rain down on me as I revel in the chorus of screams.

My rage dissipates but doesn’t disappear; good, that is just the way I wanted it. I want to give Fenrir a taste of this rage when I find him. The illusion dissolves and I find myself standing back in the field with
Dagda who is looking rather shocked.

“DAMN BOYO! That was impressive! You
were movin’ at about three quarters o’ the speed I can reach! That was a huge improvement to your speed from yesterday!” Dagda exclaims.

“I guess rage is a good fuel s
ource for my speed.” I state, emotionless.

“Hey Dagda, can I get that brand that will allow me to port to Tir
na nOg? I feel responsible for Lila in some strange way and being able to port to Tir na nOg would allow me to spend more time with her; hopefully to give her some sense of relief. It would also make training easier because I could just port here in the mornings instead of having you ‘give me a ride,’ so to speak.” I ask.

“T
hat’s not a bad idea…would it even work though? Wouldn’t your blood just heal it?” Dagda asks.

“Don’t
worry about that, I’ve got an idea.” I tell him.

“Well alr
ight lad, let’s go see Manannan mac Lir.” Dagda says and snaps his fingers.

I find
myself in a large, open, forge. I see Manannan mac Lir fiddling with something at a workbench while wearing a leather blacksmithing apron.

“I need you to
brand Cole.” Dagda says. Manannan mac Lir just gives a gruff nod and grabs a triskele (or tri-swirl) branding iron off of the wall and sticks it in the embers of his forge.

“Alr
ight lad, we need to pick a place that won’t be easily cut. This is goin’ to hurt regardless so pick a place where you want to have it.” Dagda informs me.

“My lef
t shoulder blade.” I tell them.

I
slide my holster off, pull off my shirt, and stick the strap of the holster in my mouth. Manannan mac Lir looks to me for confirmation before he pulls the iron out of the forge.

“Airi, stop all healing.
When the brand is finished, I want you to fill in the space with blood and turn it into silicon carbide before you restart healing to get rid of the burnt skin around it.”

(Once it is in the form of silicon carbide, you will never be able to remove it)

“That’s fine. Oh, and try to block Cheza from this if you can.”

I nod to Manannan
mac Lir and he sticks the branding iron on my left shoulder blade. He holds it there for the longest fifteen seconds on my life. I’m really glad I stuck the strap of my holster in my mouth; otherwise I probably would have cracked a tooth.

“How do I use it?” I ask
, slightly out of breath. Dagda snaps his fingers and we appear at the gate.

“Well you
have to think of where you need to go and then you just touch the symbol. This one is already set to port between your house and the gate.” Dagda explains.

“Alright
, I’ll give it a shot. I’ll probably be back in about an hour or so; there’s no way I was able to keep that much pain from Cheza so she is probably going to freak out at me for a while and not allow me to leave the house.” I inform him.

“Don’
t worry about it lad, we can resume trainin’ tomorrow; just look after Lila.” Dagda says.

I nod in response. W
hile holding onto my shirt and holster with my left hand, I think of home.

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” I say while clicking my heels together three times befo
re touching the triskele brand.

The last thing I hear is
Dagda’s laughter.

Chapter
23: There is no standard protocol

The first thing I hear is the sound
of wind rushing past my ears. I fall thirty feet to the ground as if I were dropped from a tornado…Goddamn flying monkeys! Note to self: keep clear images when porting. I land in the yard as I feel the shock of the impact travel up my bones. I also feel slightly drained; I guess it’s a side effect from the porting. I walk up to the front door and inside the house.

Oh look! It’s Cheza in her training clothes, a
nd she looks piiiiiiiiiissed! She grabs my hand and leads me into my room.

“SIT DOWN
!” Cheza commands; I toss my holster on the bed and sit down.


Now, vat did you zhink you vere doing?…EXPLAIN!” Cheza shouts with a German accent that is kind of turning me on, in a weird way. Suddenly I have this flash back of her straddling me while shocking me with the car battery in Hawaii.

“Look
Mistress! I got a tattoo…kinda!” I say as I turn around.

“Tattoo my ass! Last I checked, tattoos wouldn’t hurt that bad and they definitely aren’t silver and singed around the outside!” Cheza shouts.

"Silver?” I ask. I walk into the bathroom and I see that the three spirals of the triskele are indeed silver…just like the lotus…is the lotus a religious symbol? If I remember correctly, the lotus is a prominent figure in Buddhism and Hinduism. I recall the bits conversation I overheard between Tia and Sara and again when Sara was on her phone. Whatever is going on, I’m sure that Sara’s mom is somehow involved…Wait, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. This is all based off the interpretation that this is actually a lotus and that my blood turns silver with religious symbols when two examples is hardly scientifically relevant; I’d need at least three examples…

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