Title: Codlins
Rating: R
Summary: Dru wants to take
Connor’s soul out in an
unconventional way.
Warnings: Torture, drugging,
noncon.
“Not very young nor yet very
old.”
Connor pulled at the ropes
that had his hands bound
above his head. He’d only
woken up a few minutes ago
from the blackness that had
consumed him in the alley
and he’d found himself bound
and without clothing. Now
he’d been listening to the
woman by the fireplace
whisper quiet words. They
were spoken song as if they
were meant to soothe and
calm him.
He bowed his head, hair
falling into his face and
over his forehead as he
listened to her speak. His
head was fuzzy with whatever
sedative she’d given him and
it almost sounded as if she
were speaking to him through
a tunnel.
“Now this little woman, her
living got; by selling
codlins, hot, hot, hot.”
By the last word, he noted
that her voice wasn’t across
the room anymore. He looked
up the long filmy dress,
pointed chin, cherry lips,
eyes almost too large, and
dark raven hair. “Who…” He
managed before he coughed.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Baby
brother’s sick. Have you
ever had a codlin? ‘Tis
sweet and good for the
baking.” She lifted a bowl
with cut fruit in it soaking
in a clear liquid. Raising
one to Connor’s lips, she
ran the juicy fruit over his
skin along his chest and up
his neck until it was at his
lips. “Take it in.”
Connor’s brow furrowed. The
fruit smelled like apple and
something else that he
wasn’t sure he’d ever
smelled before. Slowly, his
lips parted to let her put
the fruit in his mouth and
he ate it. “Apple?”
The woman nodded and held
another piece of the soaked
fruit to Connor’s lips.
“’Twill help with the
cough. Must take care of
baby brother. We must get
the light out from the
inside. Will kill us all.”
He ate the second bite of
fruit and watched her walk
back to the fire, the room
slowly blurring before his
eyes. Where it had touched
his skin was now warm with
an almost burning
sensation. “What were those
soaking in? Wh-who are
you?”
He watched her lift a fire
reddened hot poker out of
the fire place, the image
blurring into two and then
melding back together
again. “What are you
doing?”
“You’ll be good as new.”
She turned back towards him
with the poker, eyes
suddenly bright yellow in
the dark. He found it funny
that he noticed the way her
dress swished around her
ankles when she walked back
towards him. He’d been
heavily drugged, that much
was evident.
She began speaking again,
her voice slow and soothing
like silk. “There was a
little old woman, as I’ve
been told, who was not very
young nor yet very old.”
The heat from the poker
hovered just over his chest
and Connor braced himself,
attempting to stay focused
to what was happening but
losing the battle. “Now
this little woman, her
living got by selling
codlins,”
His screams echoed in his
ears and he barely heard the
last words the woman said.
“Hot, hot, hot….”
