Hellraiser/Trinity Blood fic: Necrology
May. 18th, 2007 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
narcasse1024 words. PG-13. One definite pairing but looking like another one, involving a touch of gender-bending. Character death. Post-series, after Caterina has had a change of allegiance.
Caterina suspects that she’s found the solution, though it may be a little too late.
Necrology
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others. The Hellbound Heart belongs to Cliver Barker, Harper Collins publishers and others.
Necrology: The science of the collection, classification, and interpretation of mortality statistics.
++++++++++
She turned the box over and over in her hands in puzzlement. Was this it? The great secret he was constantly attempting to hide, the source of all his power. It looked like… a puzzle box, nothing more. How could it be anything more? Yet this was the thing she’d lied, broken faith, debased herself for. And it was nothing. A sentimental keepsake, nothing more. She’d given herself to the child monster to gain this. How could it be nothing?
A footstep on the iron stairway leading down into the basement told her that now was not the time to panic, at least not outwardly. There were rooms down here. Many musty rooms filled with what; she knew not. But at least they provided a place to hide. There might be no way out but if she could just hide from him long enough for-
The sound of something falling down the metal steps. A second later that familiar voice followed.
“The Eisenhund won’t be coming to your rescue today, I’m afraid.”
Tres’ severed head fell from the last step.
One of the rooms, that was her only hope. She just needed to find a place to hide, somewhere he’d overlook and then… and then… Stumbling backwards clutching the puzzle box she ran not for the first door but for one of the ones further back.
The room was unlit and from the scant light cast from the stairwell she could see a jumble of machinery. Possibly enough to hide her. It was her only hope. Scrambling under a broken table she crawled as far back as she could, winding her way between jagged steel. Items that in the brief glimpse she’d see of them in the light; looked like implements of torture.
The sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears was almost enough to overwhelm her. What if he could hear it? But how had he known anyway? The box had been tucked away in a safe and she’d closed it carefully behind to cover her theft. Had that wretch betrayed her? But she’d had it for weeks without anybody even noticing. So why now? Why had he suddenly noticed its absence? Unless… unless it hadn’t been a lie and this box was truly the source of his power. She’d started toying with it only recently, idly running her fingers over the surface. One piece had slid apart and she’d been intrigued. A second piece had followed and then a third and… Was that it? Was she somehow unmaking his power with this puzzle? It couldn’t be and yet why would he move to reclaim it now unless he’d sensed something? The box might be her only salvation. Solve it in time and perhaps he himself would fall apart.
She could hear no sound of movement from outside but that could mean any number of things. Was he listening for her? Waiting for her nerve to break and for her to give herself away in her despair? It didn’t matter which it might be; her only hope now was the box. Her fingertips moved frantically over the surfaces of the remaining piece, pushing and prodding, attempting to side or twist unseen panels away.
Almost, almost…
“Oh, Caterina? There’s no use in hiding from me.”
The overhead light snapped on revealing her hiding place just as the last two pieces slid apart. The sound of a bell tolling suddenly filled the room and the edges of reality seemed to blur. The fetid stench of a charnel house mingled with a sickening bog-mist. She backed away, hand covering her nose and mouth. Had it worked?
The pieces had vanished from her hand. Looking across the room she expected to see something, perhaps evidence of her triumph; anything but that laughing face. She watched in horror as he stretched out an upturned hand to reveal the box nested placidly in his palm.
“How?” It was a frantic gasp, hardly a real question.
In answer he simply turned his hand over and suddenly the separated pieces of the puzzled floated eerily beneath. She barely had time to question the gesture in her own mind before the agonies began. Her senses in overload; sight, touch, sound overwhelming her, stretching her fragile psyche to breaking point.
She was already mad by the time the hooks sank into her flesh.
In one of the upper rooms a terran tapped a pencil against his lips absently as he considered further additions to the schematic on the desk before him. He didn’t take his eyes from the diagram as he reached for a coffeecup. And he didn’t seem terribly surprised when his fingers brushed against the highly polished surface of the puzzle box which had seemingly materialised on the desk instead.
“Oh. Came back, did you?”
He addressed the box casually in the same manner that another might address a hound, as he reached over it for his coffee. He’d just raised the cup to his lips when the dull beating of bird wings alerted him to another presence and then a familiar figure was seating itself on the arm of his chair and idly lighting a cigarillo.
“How was…?”
A cold smile.
“Ah, of course you killed her.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“Of course.”
He nodded absently. Perhaps jealousy was a woman’s prerogative, he supposed but he suspected that now wouldn’t be the time to suggest that. “I can probably make some improvements to.” He inclined his head in the direction of the schematic.
“The Chains of Verekna?” She sounded bored.
“It could be useful.”
“I won’t share; you should know this by now, my dear.”
He smiled up at her. “You don’t have to share anything, least of all me.”
She’d frowned a little at his flippancy. “I can take it all back, you know.”
“I know.”
An ungracious snort. “Do you want to be free?”
“Of you, Venus? Never.”
The answer seemed to satisfy her, though he was careful to set his coffeecup aside quickly so she couldn’t deliberately spill it over his modifications for the Elegy Configuration when she bent to kiss him.
++++++++++
The final cenobite who appears to be the one in charge in The Hellbound Heart appears to be female and is known as the Engineer. Perhaps she decided that she needed a new skin this time round. Lemarchand seems to have won her affections anyway.
Lemarchand makes a roundabout reference to Wagner’s Tannhäuser in his last comment which may or may not explain why he’s chosen the name of another of Wagner opera as a pseudonym.
The Elegy Configuration, also known as The Chains of Verekna is another puzzle box and is Lemarchand’s reproduction of an Indonesian one which was designed to hold Verekna, the ‘Prince of the Mind’; a powerful Indonesian Deva whose principle power was deception.
Any guesses as to who Lemarchand is trying to revive with that one?
Isaak refers to Tres as ‘Eisenhund’ (iron hound) at one point so it’s conceivable that it becomes Tres’ codename when he joins the Orden with Caterina.
And just how far is ‘機械仕掛’ from ‘Engineer’ in translation anyway?
Caterina suspects that she’s found the solution, though it may be a little too late.
Necrology
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others. The Hellbound Heart belongs to Cliver Barker, Harper Collins publishers and others.
Necrology: The science of the collection, classification, and interpretation of mortality statistics.
++++++++++
She turned the box over and over in her hands in puzzlement. Was this it? The great secret he was constantly attempting to hide, the source of all his power. It looked like… a puzzle box, nothing more. How could it be anything more? Yet this was the thing she’d lied, broken faith, debased herself for. And it was nothing. A sentimental keepsake, nothing more. She’d given herself to the child monster to gain this. How could it be nothing?
A footstep on the iron stairway leading down into the basement told her that now was not the time to panic, at least not outwardly. There were rooms down here. Many musty rooms filled with what; she knew not. But at least they provided a place to hide. There might be no way out but if she could just hide from him long enough for-
The sound of something falling down the metal steps. A second later that familiar voice followed.
“The Eisenhund won’t be coming to your rescue today, I’m afraid.”
Tres’ severed head fell from the last step.
One of the rooms, that was her only hope. She just needed to find a place to hide, somewhere he’d overlook and then… and then… Stumbling backwards clutching the puzzle box she ran not for the first door but for one of the ones further back.
The room was unlit and from the scant light cast from the stairwell she could see a jumble of machinery. Possibly enough to hide her. It was her only hope. Scrambling under a broken table she crawled as far back as she could, winding her way between jagged steel. Items that in the brief glimpse she’d see of them in the light; looked like implements of torture.
The sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears was almost enough to overwhelm her. What if he could hear it? But how had he known anyway? The box had been tucked away in a safe and she’d closed it carefully behind to cover her theft. Had that wretch betrayed her? But she’d had it for weeks without anybody even noticing. So why now? Why had he suddenly noticed its absence? Unless… unless it hadn’t been a lie and this box was truly the source of his power. She’d started toying with it only recently, idly running her fingers over the surface. One piece had slid apart and she’d been intrigued. A second piece had followed and then a third and… Was that it? Was she somehow unmaking his power with this puzzle? It couldn’t be and yet why would he move to reclaim it now unless he’d sensed something? The box might be her only salvation. Solve it in time and perhaps he himself would fall apart.
She could hear no sound of movement from outside but that could mean any number of things. Was he listening for her? Waiting for her nerve to break and for her to give herself away in her despair? It didn’t matter which it might be; her only hope now was the box. Her fingertips moved frantically over the surfaces of the remaining piece, pushing and prodding, attempting to side or twist unseen panels away.
Almost, almost…
“Oh, Caterina? There’s no use in hiding from me.”
The overhead light snapped on revealing her hiding place just as the last two pieces slid apart. The sound of a bell tolling suddenly filled the room and the edges of reality seemed to blur. The fetid stench of a charnel house mingled with a sickening bog-mist. She backed away, hand covering her nose and mouth. Had it worked?
The pieces had vanished from her hand. Looking across the room she expected to see something, perhaps evidence of her triumph; anything but that laughing face. She watched in horror as he stretched out an upturned hand to reveal the box nested placidly in his palm.
“How?” It was a frantic gasp, hardly a real question.
In answer he simply turned his hand over and suddenly the separated pieces of the puzzled floated eerily beneath. She barely had time to question the gesture in her own mind before the agonies began. Her senses in overload; sight, touch, sound overwhelming her, stretching her fragile psyche to breaking point.
She was already mad by the time the hooks sank into her flesh.
In one of the upper rooms a terran tapped a pencil against his lips absently as he considered further additions to the schematic on the desk before him. He didn’t take his eyes from the diagram as he reached for a coffeecup. And he didn’t seem terribly surprised when his fingers brushed against the highly polished surface of the puzzle box which had seemingly materialised on the desk instead.
“Oh. Came back, did you?”
He addressed the box casually in the same manner that another might address a hound, as he reached over it for his coffee. He’d just raised the cup to his lips when the dull beating of bird wings alerted him to another presence and then a familiar figure was seating itself on the arm of his chair and idly lighting a cigarillo.
“How was…?”
A cold smile.
“Ah, of course you killed her.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“Of course.”
He nodded absently. Perhaps jealousy was a woman’s prerogative, he supposed but he suspected that now wouldn’t be the time to suggest that. “I can probably make some improvements to.” He inclined his head in the direction of the schematic.
“The Chains of Verekna?” She sounded bored.
“It could be useful.”
“I won’t share; you should know this by now, my dear.”
He smiled up at her. “You don’t have to share anything, least of all me.”
She’d frowned a little at his flippancy. “I can take it all back, you know.”
“I know.”
An ungracious snort. “Do you want to be free?”
“Of you, Venus? Never.”
The answer seemed to satisfy her, though he was careful to set his coffeecup aside quickly so she couldn’t deliberately spill it over his modifications for the Elegy Configuration when she bent to kiss him.
++++++++++
The final cenobite who appears to be the one in charge in The Hellbound Heart appears to be female and is known as the Engineer. Perhaps she decided that she needed a new skin this time round. Lemarchand seems to have won her affections anyway.
Lemarchand makes a roundabout reference to Wagner’s Tannhäuser in his last comment which may or may not explain why he’s chosen the name of another of Wagner opera as a pseudonym.
The Elegy Configuration, also known as The Chains of Verekna is another puzzle box and is Lemarchand’s reproduction of an Indonesian one which was designed to hold Verekna, the ‘Prince of the Mind’; a powerful Indonesian Deva whose principle power was deception.
Any guesses as to who Lemarchand is trying to revive with that one?
Isaak refers to Tres as ‘Eisenhund’ (iron hound) at one point so it’s conceivable that it becomes Tres’ codename when he joins the Orden with Caterina.
And just how far is ‘機械仕掛’ from ‘Engineer’ in translation anyway?
