Chapitre 26: The Trouble Between Fear and Loathing
Hope rolled over restlessly in the cage, pressing her cheek against the cold bars. It was night now and so cold she could see the vapor of her breath in front of her. There were no windows in the warehouse where they stored her for the weekend show, but she was almost sure it was snowing. It was like she could feel it in the air.
Three days had passed.
Three days of sitting in her little corner- ignoring everyone and everything. Hope refused to eat. She couldn't sleep. If she were honest about her intentions, she was slowly waiting to let herself die to be done with it all.
Hope would rather die than be another laughing stock. To be pointed at, prodded, and hear herself referred to as a beast. She may now have much power to overtake them, but she had enough to die the way she wanted.
She would control how she presented herself if she had control of anything.
"You used to be so much more fun." Henry chuckled from the far corner of the warehouse. He sat on a purple sofa with stuffing coming out of the seams, his feet propped on a Bowtruckle cage that would be performing lock-picking tricks for the crowds on Saturday.
Hope couldn't help but think of Pick. She imagined him caged like that, put on as a spectacle for his gifts.
The idea of it ignited a new fury in her.
"I hardly ever saw you." Hope rolled her eyes, leaning her head back against the bars.
Chuckling, Henry shook his head. "You saw me more than you know. Polyjuice is a wonderful brew. Not that you'd know anything about that-"
Hope cut him off.
"Four leeches and two scoops of lacewings ground to a fine powder. Add two measures of crushed lacewings…" She slowly looked over at him. "Shall I go on?"
Henry was smiling, but Hope could see the glitter of malice behind his blue eyes. He was not happy with her newly found brain of intelligence.
"I suppose Dumbledore and that Newt creature have taught you a thing or two, hm?"
The smirk that curved Hope's lips was utterly involuntary. "Yes," she slowly sat up a little taller, gazing directly at him with a heat she hadn't felt all day, "and when they find you, which they will, you are going to wish you'd never been born."
"You have too much faith in them."
"You have too little."
The days continued in a slow march to the weekend. Before long, it was Friday morning, and the whole warehouse was a buzz of activity. Workers moved crates of creatures from the warehouse through double doors that led to a large tent. This circus tent was more significant than Hope was accustomed to seeing.
It eventually became her turn, but she didn't cower. She pretended the people surrounding her enclosure weren't worth her time or attention. They weren't, nor would they ever be again. Hope ignored the verbal strokes of affection, or so some might call it, but that's the thing, isn't it? 'You're so pretty, darling,' was different in the abuser's mind than the abused. All Hope could hear when they said these words were grating nails on chalkboard.
Just because some words put together could be a compliment didn't mean someone couldn't manipulate them into something sinister.
"You're the main act tonight." Henry grinned, his wide eyes wild with what looked like excitement. He slowly inched closer to the bars separating them. "And you…are going to put on a show for them, aren't you, sweetheart."
Hope met his eyes, the fire in her belly replacing the hunger pains. "Don't hold your breath," she paused and smirked, "On second thought, please do."
Henry slammed his hand against the cage, making Hope jump, which only made him grin wider.
Hope bristled but kept her expression calm. "Did that make you feel like a man?" She asked.
His grin slowly faded, but in its place was something darker than Hope had seen on anyone's face. He yanked the door open and slammed her against the other side of the cage with what seemed like inhuman speed and strength.
Henry's hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing as he cut off her access to air.
Hope tried to cough and breathe, but finding she couldn't sent her into a panic. She wrapped her hands around his wrist and tried to pry him off, but where she had discovered she was usually strong, her strength was nothing compared to his.
Henry's eyes darkened, his fangs slowly piercing through his gums as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Hope's jugular.
Her eyes widened, staring above his shoulder, continuing to struggle for breath as everything came to a realization.
Henry was a vampire. Not just any vampire, but of the type she derived from. He was much like her, but Hope also knew she was different. He might be a vampire, but she was a hybrid. Some deep instinct told her there was something she could do to end him, but she didn't know what it was.
"You," Henry skimmed his nose along her jaw, making her heart stutter, "have always been an interest of mine. I've always known there was something different about you, and when this show is over, I will take you away to my home, where I'll lock you away and lick every inch of that body you think you can hide from me. I will make you scream in ways you never knew possible. And I'll do it again and again, my prize, because I always get what I want." His grip on her throat released just as she saw a tunnel of stars.
Hope sucked in a ragged breath and fell to her knees, where Henry grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him.
"Hm," he murmured with a smile and stroked the tears that fell down her cheeks away with his thumb, "you're afraid of me. That's good. It's how it should be."
"I do not fear you," Hope began in a slow growl, "I hate you." The slap against her face was sharp and severe, but she refused to let any more tears fall, despite the red sting forming.
Hope would kill him before that ever happened again.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone