Captive Audience

[qhostqrowls]

“Alright, this one means ‘approach’.” Faolan said, sitting cross-legged on the ground in a huddled group of humans. “Like we were saying, their senses are better than ours. So, whoever’s on lookout has to be completely silent. If one is coming, we’ll sign ‘approach’.”

The three copied the slow movement of his hand with varying degrees of clumsiness, and he tried for an encouraging smile.

He repeated it in Spanish to Mateo, who always got the movements perfect but sometimes missed the meaning, and signed it again, slower, for Min, who had overstayed her visa to hitchhike around the country. Serenity, who’d run-away from a situation she still refused to talk about, could never quite get it right, but it didn’t really matter.

They all knew the lessons were, in part, a distraction. What good was a signal to run when there was nowhere to go, a sign for help when none could be given? But it gave some sense of normalcy, of purpose, and though Faolan worried it was almost cruel, a shred of hope.

It hadn’t taken him long to realise he was the odd one out among the human survivors, and it wasn’t just because he was WDSA or because he’d known about the supernatural.

It was because they took the humans no one would notice were gone. People who were already missing, the homeless and the runaways and the undocumented, stolen from all corners of the country.

There was no surge of disappearances in the same city, or even the same state. No pattern to follow. It was a horrifyingly organised system, and one that had been running smoothly for quite some time.

But his supernatural experience had been why they’d first approached him, and it was the reason he felt some responsibility for those in the hall. Many of them still avoided him all together, and he couldn’t blame them. Warren and the pooka were a constant in his life here, and their attention could turn to the others if he so much as glanced in their direction.

But in the quiet moments like this where they were left alone, he could do the little things.


Patch up a bite wound, try to fix a sprained wrist with what little he had to work with. Organise a look-out system. Build some sense of camaraderie among the ragged little group of humans, so they just weren’t just the playthings of the court, but survivors. He didn’t think any of it would matter in the end, but there had to be a way out somehow.

[MP]

The pooka never came predictably, openly, the way Warren did. When he came, it was abrupt and often violent. A silent approach down the hall, a sudden barge into the room, and a cruel, careless grab for the smaller man. Sometimes there was a harsh meeting with the wall, and teeth to follow. But today, Faolan was lucky.

The big man crossed the room in two strides, catch Mateo around the throat as the group stood in alarm. He pulled his catch close, angling his head one way, then the other, all with a dispassionate eye.

"Hmm," he said. Then after a moment. "Good enough."

With a sideways look at Faolan - a look that promised more serious attention later - he gripped the gasping Mateo more firmly and began to haul him out of the room. For all the human's struggles, it barely seemed to faze the pooka at all.

[qhostqrowls]

Faolan scrambled to his feet, a familiar fear settling in the pit of his stomach. When the reaching hand closed around Mateo’s throat and not his own, the feeling shifted to dread.

The group held their collective breaths as he looked the man over, not daring to move. Faolan wilted beneath the stare, and some small, cowardly part of himself was relieved he’d be left alone for now.

But when the lord turned to drag off his catch, he found himself taking a step after them. An unconscious movement, words dying in his throat before he could speak them.

[MP]

The pooka stopped. Turned slowly, a smile spreading across his features. Once, they would have been considered handsome. Now, the fused flesh of his eye socket seemed to glare down at Faolan.

"So eager. To volunteer?"

He moved his arm, holding his current victim more securely to his chest for Faolan to see. Mateo's wide eyes stared back at the doctor, pleading. The pooka smiled.

"Come along then. Human boy."

The other arm reached out, commanding. Beckoning. Waiting for Faolan to approach.

[qhostqrowls]

Faolan tensed, looking up at the pooka with tired eyes. There was no point in shying back now that he had his attention. He could feel the eyes of the other humans on them, waiting and watching to see what would happen. 

He stepped forward obediently, dropping his gaze to Mateo. He’d found very quickly that the lord had a short temper and no patience for any kind of defiance.  

“Cálmate, está bien.” He murmured softly to the man, and hoped that was the truth. 

[MP]

The pooka smiled and placed a magnanimous hand on Faolan's back, ushering him along. The very touch of a fae was like a cold iron to these humans, and he enjoyed the way the others always shrank back from the little man after one of his visits. Small and lonely suited him.

The three left the arched halls behind, then turned out toward the deeper woods. The fog curled around the base of the trees, delicate as fronds. And shifting. Always shifting, making it hard to tell whether one was coming or going, or whether the landscape was familiar or new. All one could see was that it was late - an eerie, soundless twilight that hung low over the trees.

When the wood began to slope down in a vast bowl, the pooka slowed. There were other shadows here, small and hunched. Humans, looking as lost and disheveled as Faolan surely felt. The pooka shoved Mateo lazily toward them.

"There's. Some friends for you to. Play with," he said, chuckling to himself.

If Faolan had been planning to follow, the pooka's stern grip closing around the back of his neck prevented it.

"Not. You." The bigger man's breath purred against his ear, lowering to a near whisper. "You. Get to watch."

A crowd was gathering on the edge of the hill. Proud, youthful features. Wagers and high-spirited banter.

"My lucky knife says one of them makes it to the edge," a man was saying.

"You've got a bet. Easiest win of my life." His partner stuck out her tongue.

There was something unpleasant in their smiles. Several attending fae were drifting in to herd the group of humans downhill. The eyes of the watchers glittered with excitement as, one by one, the humans were lined up in the mist.

"Alright, my little tenders." A fanged woman was stalking back and forth in front of them, her voice pitched bold and clear as an announcer's. "We're at the edge of the woods now. Look familiar? Because out there - " She pointed further into the bowl, where the mist curled thickly around the trunks. "Is your home. And if you run, very, very fast, we'll let you go."

She clasped her hands together, beaming.

"We're going to give you a long head start. Nice and sportsmanlike. So if my friends find you before you get there, I'd say it's only fair that we, hm." She pretended to think. "That we tear you limb from limb. Sound fun?

There were sobs, wails, screams from the humans - the quarry - and whoops of approval from the waiting hunters. Mateo looked across the distance at Faolan, wild desperation in his eyes.

[qhostqrowls]

Mateo's fingers caught at his sleeve, a gentle pull away from the pooka, but even as Faolan went to follow he saw the flicker of fear across his face, how he began to shy back.

The heavy hand on his nape came as no surprise. He half-turned his face away when the lord leant in, tensing beneath his grip.

There was a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and as the purred words registered he felt it settle heavy and cold into true terror. He stared up at the lord with a horrified, dawning comprehension.

The boasts and bloodthirsty bets of the man-eaters were pitched carelessly for the humans to hear, each one more raucous and violent than the last. A black cat the size of a lion prowled past, flicking its tail against his leg and fixing the pooka with a sideways look.

It wasn't the only one watching them, but Faolan barely registered the stares. He couldn't look away from Mateo, standing at the edge of the line in his worn jacket and scuffed sneakers, cowering away whenever the woman passed by.

Faolan's hand flitted up to cover his mouth, his expression crumpling, when the announcement began.

"No," He choked out, a soft strangled noise in the back of his throat, drowned out by the cries of the others. "No, no - not this, not him -"

He looked desperately to the lord. He'd asked his captors, once, the reason for the realm. Warren had laughed, and told him he'd see. The pooka had just smiled.

[MP]

In response, the pooka gripped Faolan's chin - a light grip with the faintest suggestion of force behind it - and turned his head, forcing him to stare down at the group.

"Pay attention." he purred "You'll miss the. Fun."

Suddenly, the grip on Faolan's jaw tensed. The pooka's head turned.

"You done playing with your food?" Ahendra was standing there, hands on her hips and a furrow to her brow. "You know the rules. No hoarding, no reservations, no exceptions. Put him in with the rest. You can have him once you catch him."

[qhostqrowls]

Faolan grabbed at the pookas wrist, trying to turn his face away again.

If he caused enough of a scene he might not be forced to watch. Might delay the hunt or draw the predators attention away, even for a few seconds. He’d been beat for less resistance, and went to dig his nails into the man’s skin when his grip tightened.

Ahendra’s words sent a primal thrill of fear down his spine, his face draining of its colour. He didn’t want to watch. He wanted to be torn to pieces even less.

“Warren - he has a claim on me too.” He protested, voice thin.

[MP]

The pooka put an arm over Faolan's shoulders, using the motion and his superior height to get hold of Faolan's neck. Slowly, innocently, he began to squeeze.

"Yes. A prior claim." He smiled at Ahendra, though he didn't quite meet her gaze. "He will join the. Hunt soon enough. But it was Warren's wish that. He be properly prepared first."

"Bullshit." Ahendra glowered, and the pooka averted his face a few more degrees. "That's still a reservation. You're keeping him for your own use."

"Only if he were here as. Stock." The pooka's tone hardened. The extra height lent him the weight of authority as he loomed over the basilisk. "As we brought him here for the sake. Of a feud, he is ours to keep. Or kill as we so. Choose. Such is the law of the court."

Then, diffusing the tension, the pooka swept a regal bow. Over the hill, an excited baying rose. Faolan could hear the desperate crunch of footsteps through leaves, scattering, stumbling away in every directions. Some uncertainly, some vanishing almost at once.

"Of course we will. Share until our hunt is. Claimed." Purred the pooka. "His blood is our. Tithe to the Cabal. To you if. The mood takes you."

He released the pressure on Faolan's neck, only to angle his chin up for Ahendra's benefit. She narrowed her eyes, staring at them both.

[qhostqrowls]

Where the pooka averted his gaze, Faolan stared. Ahendra had authority over even the most fearsome and arrogant of the predators, and he wasn't sure if it was because of what she was, or the status she held.

He watched, and tried to listen even with the threatening pressure on his throat.

This was his one chance to see how it worked, how the Cabal operated outside of the fae court. They didn't keep humans for long - even the Weaver had said so. He'd counted less than a dozen lined up with Mateo.

Through the boughs of the looming trees, he could see the moon was full, but it wasn't much to go by. Time passed differently here, and the sun never rose. But it was better than nothing. More than he'd known before. It had to mean something.

He turned his face best he could, feeling the frantic flutter of his pulse against the lords fingers. The humans had started to run, but Mateo and a woman were hesitating, backing away uncertainly as a monstrous shape slunk down the slope towards them.

Their eyes met one last time, fear in them both.

The beast started forward with a snap of its teeth and a savage snarl, and the pair finally fled. There was a cacophony of howls and laughter as the stragglers disappeared into the mist, the predators hunger and impatience palpable as they milled about and waited for the Hunt to begin.

Faolan tore his face away when the pressure lifted, stepping back and glaring up at the lord with true hatred in his eyes. He hadn't fought back since the night he'd been bought to the realm.

It only made his visits more violent, the threat of a torn throat or a broken arm all the more likely. He'd resigned himself to meek obedience and placating gestures, but tonight there was nothing he could do that would hurt more than watching his friend be ripped apart for sport.

"You're pathetic," he snapped, his throat dry with fear. "All of this because you're too cowardly to hunt us in our own realm? Outnumbered five to one? Some lord you are."

[MP]

Cold eyes turned to Faolan. Slowly. Disbelievingly. Not just the pooka's, but fanged onlookers and red-eyed hunters. It was to these that the pooka's eyes flickered first. A spasm crossed his face, inhuman in its contortions. A harsh crack echoed over the fog as he struck Faolan to the ground. The pooka advanced, pulling Faolan upright only to strike him down again. The shadow that followed Faolan down was canine, its breath hot on his shoulder as it sank its teeth in.

"If you're done with your tantrum-"

Ahendra's words were hardly audible under the dog's savage snarling. It hauled Faolan toward the slope, one agonizing lurch at a time. For a terrible moment, it seemed as if the dog was about shake the doctor like a rat in its jaws. Instead, it adjusted its hold, blood squeezing from punctured flesh as its jaws tightened for a better grip. Faolan was held at the edge of the slope, hungry watchers behind, a view of the hunt spread out before him. Any attempt to turn away from what was about to happen forced the teeth in deeper.

"Watch," the voice snarled beside his ear.

"For fuck's sake," Ahendra growled.

[qhostqrowls]

Faolan cowered back when the dog lunged, his vision blurred and the sharp taste of blood in his mouth. His shaking hands flitted up as if to hold it back, the gesture instinctive and utterly useless.

He could feel the vibration of its snarls against his fingers, tangled in its silken fur, and where its teeth sunk painfully into his shoulder. He bit back a cry with each violent tug towards the edge of the slope.

“Fuck you,” He spat, but any heat behind the words was offset by the terror in his voice.

Behind them, three figures slunk out of the mist to join the crowd.

“Fuck! We missed the start.” One complained.

“Awwww. Half the fun is picking one out.” The woman next to him pouted, her features an uncanny blend of canine and human.

“If you ain’t take so long to get ready, we would’ve got here in -“

The werewolf cuffed him across the back of his antlered head, and their argument dissolved into snarling laughter.

Their rowdiness stood in sharp contrast to the older man behind them, who stood in silence, a thin lipped smile stretching across his face as he looked curiously, lazily, over the pooka and his prey.

The flat expression flickered and dropped when he caught sight of Ahendra. In the next moment it was plastered back in place, and he leant in to whisper something to his companions.

They immediately fell silent. The werewolf’s tail tucked low, and the gaunt teeanger slunk behind her hulking, half-shifted form. The lanky man folded his gloved hands behind his back, staring out across the expanse of the forest in a pointed effort to not catch the basilisk's gaze.

[MP]

"I see you, asshole."

Ahendra swung a finger around at the group. Her argument with the pooka seemed to have shortened her patience for all misbehavior.

"I told you, we're over capacity, and I know you already filled up on that hunter squad last week."

She angled her head, though she didn't quite fix her gaze on them. A threat or a courtesy, it was hard to tell.

"You're in for next month's hunt, and that's final. We've got blood drinkers to feed."

She made a sharp sound with her teeth. Fluttered her fingers at them, ushering them on.

The pooka's grip on Faolan relaxed slightly. With Ahendra's attention off him, some subtle tension seemed to drain.

[qhostqrowls]

The demon held his hands up, wide smile still in place.

“I’m only here to watch.”

He spoke with a heavy southern drawl, an insidious hiss curling around each slow word. As he stepped languidly to the side, the werewolf lurched forward, eyes ablaze.

“That’s so not fair!” She protested. “You’re, like, punishing us for our dedication to the cause.”

Kail kissed his teeth and slunk reluctantly after her, hands jammed in his pockets and shoulders hunched forward like a scolded teenager.

“Let them drink their fill and we can finish one off.” Jennifer continued. “Just one little bitty human.”

On the ground, Faolan grit his teeth and tried to steady his breath. He watched the fanged woman glance at her watch, the predators as they slunk down the slope, and prayed that the carnage would be out of sight when it started.