Off the leash
20-5-2023
Contains graphic violence and injury
It had been a long time since Julius had a full night of sleep.
It’s not even the watches that break him up. It’s the time between them. His dreams are getting worse. As soon as he closes his eyes, he feels Strahds hands on his shoulders, his eyes on him, his fingers prodding around in his mind. He resisted, by the gods, he had resisted him. But it had been a close call.
Now, between his watches, he lies awake, waiting for the gentle touch his companions use to wake him when they think he’s sleeping. He doesn’t feel the desire to pray. Instead, he waits, and waits, and waits.
During the day, it is hard to stay focused. But during his night watch, it is almost impossible.
He doesn’t even notice he’d dozed off until he startles awake from a cold touch to his face.
‘’Shhhh’’, whispers a cool voice, and when Julius opens his eyes, his first thought is that Strahd has finally come back to finish him. But this is another cruel face, another pair of soulless eyes.
‘’You have no idea how long I waited for this’’, whispers Rahadin, and trails his dagger across Julius’ jaw.
Julius jerks away from it instinctively, but finds he cannot go far: the dusk elf is seated on his legs and using his body weight to trap him against the slanted rock behind him. Rahadin reacts faster than Julius can even register, and grabs his hair to bash his skull against the stone’s surface.
‘’I would advise you not to try that again’’, he says. His voice is flat and measured, its calmness a startling contrast with the aggression of his moves. Just this hit is enough to make the world blur before Julius’ eyes as a wave of pain crashes over him. The edge of the blade is back on his skin in an instant, almost lovingly, as Rahadin drags it over his cheek to rest against the side of his throat, light enough to leave noting but the promise of more in its wake.
That is when panic overtakes him. He thrashes in Rahadins grip to crane his neck aside, flails his arms in a vain attempt to reach his whip, his holy symbol, anything. But Rahadin is unfazed, and holds him down effortlessly. From the corner of his eye, he catches a serene smile on his face, and it dawns on him that Rahadin enjoys watching him writhe like this, drinks his terror like wine.
Rahadin indulges for a moment longer, before he smashes his head back against the rock, once, twice, and this time the world does go dark for a moment.
When Julius drifts back into consciousness, Rahadins face is hovering only inches from his own, staring directly into his eyes.
‘’You don’t have to make this so difficult’’, he says, playfully dragging his knife down his neck and over his collarbone.
Julius tastes blood as he swallows before attempting to speak.
‘’Why don’t you just kill me? Master still has you on the leash?’’
‘’I expected you of all people to understand the joy of restraint’’, Rahadin answers, while dragging the knife even lower, across his chest to rest against his side.
‘’And I could have you, you know? He doesn’t want you anymore. But the problem is, Julius…’’
Rahadin leans forward to whisper in his ear.
‘’Once I have you, the leash won’t go back on’’
His heavy breathing is the only thing that gives away the rage below his calm exterior. It reminds Julius that he is in the hands of a madman, just one thread of control keeping him from dismembering him on the spot.
‘’But I have other ways to get my fun’’, Rahadin says, and smiles as he plunges the knife in his side with almost a lazy swing.
A cry of pain makes its way halfway out of Julius’ mouth before he bites it back, eyes reflexively darting in the direction of his sleeping companions nearby.
‘’Ah, good, you know how to be quiet’’, Rahadin says, pushing the knife just a bit deeper just to see Julius grit his teeth. ‘’We wouldn’t want your kids to wake up. That could get… quite messy.’’
‘’You demon’’, Julius hisses, but he has to gasp for breath when Rahadin nudges the knife again. By now he feels the sickening gush of blood spread across his skin as it soaks his shirt. It's not much yet. The wound is not deep. That is, however, no consolation. Julius sees Rahadins nosdrils flare at the smell of it, almost grotesque on his solemn face, and knows this is only the beginning.
‘’That is the deal he gave me’’, Rahadin continues, ‘’I can have you, if I control myself, but only you. The rest are off limit. But he knows if I kill you, if I see you die, I will not be able to restrain my appetite for blood any longer.’’
Without warning he thrusts the knife in his side to the hilt.
For one moment, the pain is overwhelming.
Julius has known pain. He knows how to surrender to it, to retreat deeply within himself and let it happen to him as if he were someone else, to leave this writhing, screaming mass of flesh behind when he has to.
But now, he has just enough clarity of mind left to know he cannot scream.
So he stays, here, under his attackers bloody hands, in this body, and somehow keeps his cries inside.
‘’You should know it is not difficult to kill a man when you stab him in the guts’’, he heaves once he has regained a semblance of control over his body, looking up at Rahadin.
But he just smiles and drags his fingers around the wound, drawing aimless patterns on his bloodied skin. When he pulls his hand back he looks at his stained fingers intensely, rubbing them together. For a moment, Julius fears he will lick them clean in some twisted display of bloodlust. Instead, he just takes a deep breath.
‘’Gods, I wish blood could sustain me like it does for him’’, he whispers absentmindedly, before looking at Julius again. His fingers reach for Julius’ face and stroke his cheek in a gesture that could be consoling if it wasn’t for the bloodied line they leave behind ‘’And worry not. You are safe. I know you can heal yourself. I know how far I can go.’’
Julius feels the arms of the crossguard dig into his side when he breathes. It’s almost obscene.
‘’You…You can’t make me’’, he whispers. He knows he’s made a mistake saying that even before he sees the glimmer of joy in Rahadins eyes. The dusk elf does not say anything, and nothing on his face betrays the cruelty of what he is about to do.
And still Julius is not surprised when Rahadin yanks the blade out of his body with a sickening squelch, and plunges it through his hand instead, nailing it to the ground.
‘’Are you certain?’’, he asks, and brushes away a sweat-soaked strand of hair that has fallen in Julius’’ face. For one moment, all is quiet except for his own gasps for breath and the soft rustle of the wind in the trees.
Then Rahadin twists the knife.
It takes just that to break him. The tendons in his hand strain, his brittle bones giving away, the blood gushing from the open wound in his side, and it’s way too much, everything happening at once as panic overtakes him, and there is nothing but agony as he claws his fingers in the bloodied soil.
The words spill over his lips before he can even fully comprehend them.
Rahadin smiles mildly and tugs the knife out as soon as he sees Julius’ skin knit itself back together.
Julius could not even scream if he wanted to. Instead, he lies paralysed and trembling as the pain leaves him. He turns his eyes away from Rahadin, looks at the sky as he catches his breath. He distantly notes that he must’ve bitten his tongue as the metallic tang of blood floods his mouth.
There are no coherent thoughts left in his mind, except for the nauseating realization that this was going to be a very, very long night.
‘’Do you understand now?’’, Rahadin asks, and grabs Julius’ chin to force him to look at him again. Julius complies without a fight.
‘’Do you understand what I could do to you if I had free reign?’’
He trails the blade over his chest, right down the middle. Julius can see the stains of his own blood on the steel.
‘’I would break your chest open and tear your heart out’’, he whispers as he brings back the knife to his side. The tip of the blade rests against the tender spot in his side that only just closed up, and it feels like a deep ache.
‘’I would wash my hands in your blood’’
The madness in his eyes is now clearly visible, the obsession dripping from his words as he describes in morbid detail how he would kill him. The pressure on his side is gradually increasing again while Rahadins voice drones on, seemingly hypnotized and fully absorbed in his own reality. Julius feels like he should fight, or plead, or even cry, but he can’t do anything but listen, listen, listen, here in this pocket inbetween agonies, seemingly endless and imperturbable.
But then there is the sound of a twig snapping somewhere nearby.
It is just the slightest sound, and Julius might not even have heard it, might not even have noticed that Rahadin heard it too. But for just a moment, his voice falters, his eyes dart aside.
And right then, Julius knows how he can make this end.
‘’I can’t…I can’t heal myself fast enough if you get to my heart’’, he says with his voice small and breakable in his mouth. ‘’You can only kill me once, better make it last.’’
That stops Rahadin right in his tracks.
‘’If you want to savour it you have to pace yourself. Make shallow cuts all over my body, enough to make every moment hell but not enough to kill me outright’’, Julius continues. ‘’You would just have to avoid the arteries, or I might bleed out too fast. But maybe you would enjoy that? To see how far you can take me?’’
He is not sure what has come over him, but he takes up this role with a startling lack of effort. The ache in his body fades into the background as he talks, holding Rahadins attention as his only goal. And it seems to be working. He is more than just listening, he is enthralled. Rahadins breath has gone shallow, and Julius can almost hear his heart rate increase, his eyes growing larger with every word. Julius holds his gaze, resists the urge to look towards the forest, and instead keeps talking.
‘’You’ll have to see how much you need to hurt me to get me to heal myself’’, he continues. ‘’So you can start all over again. Find out how many times you can make me do it before my energy runs out. It would be a delicate balance, but is there not some fun in the thrill?’’
Rahadin nods, almost an invisibly small movement, but Julius catches it as easy as anything. His senses have sharpened to the point of being unbearable. He feels the tremble in Rahadins knees where they rest against his to hold him in place, feels the racing pulse in his fingertips where his hand still holds onto his chin, and he knows that, right now, Rahadin would listen to anything he says.
Despite his compromised position, he understands that the power over this situation is in his hands now.
And instead of relief or anxiety, he feels an overwhelming hunger for more.
Julius knows pain and suffering intimately. But he has never fantasised to be on the other side.
Now, however, it comes as naturally to him as breathing. He has killed, of course, but he never indulged.
He is proper, he lives a life of restraint and virtue, he never strays. But what if he, for once, wants to drop his burden, wants to stain his hands with blood, wants to gnaw down on something warm and bite until it stops moving?
On his back in the dirt he wonders why he should not be the one to hold the knife for once. Why he should not want to feel it sink in the soft flesh of the body above him. Why he should not want to take his gloves off, lay his bare hands over Rahadins throat and squeeze?
He knows he is at the point where his plan would work right now, but he can’t resist pushing just a bit more.
‘’You’d need to control yourself for all of it to work.’’, he continues, ‘’But you could do that, right?’’
‘’Yes’’, Rahadin whispers, voice strained.
The kick that gets him almost frightens him, but Julius is far beyond the point of contemplation.
Right now, he wants to taste blood, he wants to smell fear.
And by god, he shall have it.
He takes a deep breath and then spits his mouthful of blood in Rahadins face.
Time slows down.
There is an uncharacteristic look of confusion on Rahadins face as the blood trails down his cheek and over his lips.
He breathes in.
He licks his lips.
Rahadins pupils widen and his face distorts in an expression best described as anguish. He drops his knife and lets go of Julius’ chin, and with hawk-like speed digs his fingers in the center of his chest.
Immedeately, the pressure is immense, and just like that his feelings of control and power are gone. Rahadin bares his teeth like a rabid dog, his face so close their foreheads almost touch. Julius cannot breathe. He has never felt anything like this bone-deep ache. Within seconds he will be cracked open and reduced to gore, he knows with sudden clarity, and for one terrifying moment he considers his hunch might have been incorrect.
But then a shadow appears from the forest and crashes into Rahadin.
Rahadin cries in despair and desperately tries to hold onto Julius, his nails catching behind his collarbone and tearing off a strip of skin as he is dragged off by his master.
For just one moment, Strahd turns around and looks Julius in the eye. He seems to be smiling.
Julius feels sick to his stomach.
But then they disappear from his line of sight.
He could flee now. He should reach is weapon and his shield, he should get up, do something, anything, now he has the chance.
But all he does is lay on his back and stare at the stars, taking in breath after painful breath. The flesh over his collarbone lies raw and smarting under the cool air. Rahadins cries fade away in the distance.
He does not move when his companions find him, drenched in the blood of his already closed wounds. He does not protest when they clean him up and cover him with their blankets. And he does not pull away when they hold his hands as he lies awake through the rest of the night.
Yet again, he lives to see another day.
And yet again, something in him is irreparably changed.