Chapter Text
“Oh, stop sobbing.” Penelope snaps. “It’s not that bad.”
It is that bad. Gods, it is that bad. Zack had never been burned by iron before. But now it feels like his back is on fire, sending waves of painful heat through his small body. He whimpers, curling up a little as pain and tears wrack his body.
The burns hurt so much that he can hardly feel the bruises that accompany them. But they ache, ache and throb relentlessly. The tug to heal the bruises is strong, yanking him like a rope, a temptation nearly impossible to ignore.
But his teachers are standing right over him, watching like a hawk. They can see his red, swollen, bruised back easily as he lies on his stomach on the bed, muffling his moans of pain in the pillow. They would see, they would know, and then the whole agonising punishment would start all over again.
Sally hits down on the bed next to him. He winces. Her gloved hand touches his burning back and he whimpers. “Are you tempted? To heal yourself?”
What’s the right answer? A lie that sounds good, or honesty that just proves his wickedness?
He bobs his head once, as much as he can while lying flat.
“That temptation doesn’t go away, kiddo. What goes away is your desire to act on it. That’s what we teach you.” She pats his back, in a way that might be aiming at comfort if it wasn’t utterly agonising. “To ignore the temptation.”
He bites the inside of his mouth to avoid crying out at the sudden burst of pain. Now the inside of his mouth hurts, and he could heal it so easily. How come he wants to do something bad so much? Why is he so bad?
“There are two types of mages.” Penelope stands next to the bed, as straight and sharp as a needle. “There are those who fight the temptation, and those who revel in it. You are evil, Zack, wicked and unholy just because of what you are. But as long as you understand that, as long as you accept your disgusting nature and strive to fight the temptation, you will always be better than the mages who revel in it. Who fight the good people who just want to make our world a better place.”
They leave, and he finally allows the tears to fall properly. He hides under his bed, curling up as much as he can without exacerbating the pain.
Why does he have to be like this? His parents are good, normal. His entire family is. Why isn’t he? What did he do wrong to be cursed like this?
The tug is too strong, far too strong. He can’t fight it. If they can’t see the bruises, surely they will just think it’s due to the swollen, red burns hiding them? He heals, and guilt floods through him. He really is evil. He is just like the worst mages, the ones who don’t fight it. How could he do this?
The next day, Penelope looks coldly furious, clutching a poker in her bare hand, and Sally looks disappointed. “Kiddo, what did we say about healing?”
Zack winces. They haven’t even looked, how do they know? “I- I didn’t-“
A sharp sting of pain interrupts him. He clutches his stomach as he crumples to the ground. Even through the fabric of his clothes, he can feel the burn forming. “Don’t you dare lie to us! How could you, you wicked little brat!” Penelope stands over him, and he curls up tightly, protecting his newly injured stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Are you frightened? Imagine how your parents feel, knowing right upstairs they have a demon lurking, deliberately flaunting all attempts to help it!”
The guilt worsens. Of course his parents found these teachers. They must be terrified of him. Tears sneak from his eyes now, tears that he can’t stop. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
“On your stomach, on the bed.” Penelope is entirely unmoved by his tearful apologies. “Right now, or we’ll do double.”
Zack scrambles to follow her instructions, even though his legs shake so much it is miracle he can move at all. He doesn’t want to go through this again. He can’t. Why can’t he just be good? Why does he have to go through this?