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Language:
English
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Published:
2022-05-24
Words:
1,359
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
10
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125

Chased

Summary:

Henrik tries to escape.

Notes:

Gee I can't believe I'm posting again. The JSE writing server convinced me to post so...

Work Text:

Chase's pupils more than doubled in size as his eyes fluttered closed. A familiar warmth overtook his mind. It migrated and spread outwards, down his neck and across his chest, then through his arms and legs until his muscles felt like gelatin. All thoughts of resistance disappeared near instantly and he leaned into the demon's touch.

 

"Your brother is missing," Anti whispered to him, "Find him."

 

Chase's eyes snapped open and he stood. Anti's order filled every corner of his brain: Find Henrik, find him and bring him back. Find him. Find your brother.

 

Nothing else in the world mattered to him now.

 


 

Rain pattered against the grass and small creatures fled from Henrik’s pounding footsteps as he tore through the forest, searching desperately for an escape. His heartbeat was loud in his ears. It was only a matter of time before Anti realized he was gone, he had to be quick. The second his phone had a signal, he would make a call, and Jackie would track its location and find him and…

 

And Chase…

 

In Henrik’s pocket, a small knife he’d snatched from the kitchen thumped against his leg with each step. His stomach churned at the thought of using it.

 

No, the good doctor tried to reassure himself, No, he wouldn’t send his favorite. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll both…

 

Who was he kidding?

 

Henrik would have laughed if he wasn't so terrified. He was the only one running through the woods right now. He was the only one with a phone and the power to call Jackie to his rescue.

 

Had Chase always known it would never work if it was the two of them? Probably. He had probably known from the start that only Henrik stood the best chance of escape, and deep down Henrik knew it, too. That's why he'd said yes to this in the first place, because he was selfish and a coward and he wanted out of here so badly he was willing to abandon Chase to do it.

 

And Chase was so gentle and kind that he would let Henrik do it.

 

Tears smeared his vision. Whatever pitiful attempts at consoling himself his brain had left were no longer working. Now he focused on keeping his legs moving, on getting as far away from his captor as possible.

 

One, two. One, two. One, two , he counted in his head at each footfall, One, two. One, two. One—

 

Henrik faltered.

 

A stick, a stone, maybe some animal’s carcass tripped him up and he stumbled. To his horror, the sound of feet pounding against the dry autumn grass continued behind him. It sounded too big to be a dog.

 

Knowing it was unwise, knowing he was wasting precious time but helpless to stop himself, Henrik turned to look towards the noise.

 

His blood turned ice cold. 

 

Not far from him, Chase's reddened, huge-pupiled eyes almost seemed to glow as he approached. As their eyes locked, he slowed down, and then stopped. It was like he was waiting for something. It was hard to tell, it was so dark and the rain wasn’t helping, but Henrik could almost swear he saw swollen bruises and cuts on his face.

 

The doctor had been praying for dogs, for any other puppet with any other face. He'd thought (as much as it disgusted him to think) that Chase was more a trophy or toy than a tool. Then again, before now the only of their little family to be captured was Brody himself. None of the others had such close emotional ties to him.

 

Trembling, Henrik wrapped his fingers around his knife. Chase was running towards him again now, a smile on his face.

 

"Henrik?" he called out, "Henrik, why were you running from me?" He sounded more amused than anything else, like he was talking to one of his kids.

 

Henrik wanted to tell him to go away, but his throat felt swollen. Wordlessly he turned and ran. Chase followed him, his footsteps growing closer and closer at an alarming pace. He’d always been the more athletic one.

 

The knife grew ever heavier in the doctor’s pocket.

 

"No!" Henrik spun around just as Chase reached him. Finally, he drew his knife. His hands shook violently as he pointed it at Brody’s chest. Now that he was up close, he could see that Chase had, indeed, been beaten sometime after he left. Blood streamed down his face from shallow cuts and from his nose. Dark purple bruises stained his eye and jaw. Were his eyes so red because the blood vessels in them had been burst through force? "Chase, don't make me do this."

 

"I… don't want to do this, Hen. Just let me take you back, man," Chase put his hands on Henrik's shoulders, his nails digging in uncomfortably hard. Henrik couldn't find the strength to fight off his touch. "Just come with me so I don't have to hurt you. "


“Chase stop , we could both leave together.”

 

“I don’t want to do that either.” Chase started moving a hand toward Henrik’s throat, inch by inch.

 

“I said stop ,” Henrik said again, “Stop or I’ll”—

 

Chase moved forward with a burst of speed, tackling Henrik to the ground and crushing his throat with both hands. Henrik’s terrified mind no longer registered Chase as a brother, only as a threat. He stabbed wildly at the first piece of flesh his knife could reach: a spot just above Chase’s collarbone.

 

And then, just as the knife went in, Chase was himself again.

 

His pupils shrank and a strangled cry crawled from his throat, tiny and pathetic. Blood spurted out of his mouth and neck. “H-H…He… What…?” he stared, wide-eyed at Henrik before falling onto his side. He laughed quietly, painfully, more blood forcing its way past his lips as he breathed out.

 

Henrik stared back, frozen. He hadn’t meant… it was only supposed to…

 

“No, no, Chase I’m so sorry please,” Henrik panicked, dropping his knife and all thoughts of escape in a desperate attempt to stop the blood flow. He did his best with the nothing he had, pressed his hands over the wound knowing it would just keep seeping blood through his fingers.

 

Chase reached up to touch him with bloody fingers. “Go…” he wheezed, “Run.”

 

But Henrik couldn’t. His legs were rooted in place, he had to save his brother. He would never leave Chase behind when he was so injured they both knew it.

 

Anti knew it.

 

By the time Henrik’s frazzled brain understood this, it was far too late. In fact, it had been too late the second Chase had come for him. Keeping his hands pressed over Chase’s neck, he looked up to find the glitch himself crouched barely an inch away from his face.

 

Henrik steeled himself against an infinite number of painful punishments. “Please, don’t let him die, I-I didn’t mean it.”

 

Anti smiled. “Oh? You want me to save him?”

 

Henrik had nothing else to bargain with, nothing else to say. He was already in trouble for running away in the first place and he had no benefit of being a favorite puppet. His mouth dried up. Maybe this would get them both killed.

 

“I might’ve let you go if you’d left him here,” Anti said as he stood, “It would have been fun watching the guilt eat at you. God , you two are so nice it’s disgusting . The loyalty, though, I like.”

 

“Is he going to die?” Henrik asked.

 

“No, you’ll both live,” Anti put a hand on Henrik’s head and smiled wider. An unpleasant buzz rumbled through his skull. “You’ll make good incentives for each other.”

 

That couldn’t mean anything good. Once again, Henrik had nothing to say. He thought back to the phone hidden in his coat. Did Anti know about it? Had Chase been forced to tell him?

 

When Anti opened his mouth again, he winced, expecting for the contraband to be taken away, for his punishment to finally be dealt, but instead Anti’s eyes landed on the blade lying in the grass.

 

“By the way, I want my knife back.”