The Dreamtrap - 13. Chapter 13

- XIII -

Raven had no idea which way they were going by now; the damn labyrinth definitely lived up to its name, twisting, and turning, and splitting into impossible forks. Desmond would pause for several seconds once in a while, a small frown pulling his eyebrows together, and then he would choose the direction. Raven didn’t argue with him -- by now, he simply didn’t care. Desmond would inevitably start hissing scrambled profanities every time they would end up in yet another dead-end, while turning around and backtracking somewhat hurriedly. All of a sudden, Specter became obsessively dedicated to finding the damn exit finally.

Raven tried visualizing his sleeping self several more times, but he gave up after realizing that he couldn’t even visualize the bedroom, let alone himself. It felt as if these mirrors blocked every single mental effort of his.

They came across several more illusions; a couple of those were nasty parts of Raven’s past, and a few apparently belonged to Desmond. They would grit their teeth and keep on walking, ignoring the shadows, and breaking them into clouds of white smoke. Finally, the illusions stopped, as if whoever or whatever was creating them decided to give up, seeing that it was useless and far from entertaining by now.

“I am tired,” Raven said shortly after they turned into another dead-end. “Break time.”

“Let’s get to another intersection,” Desmond said quickly, but Raven shook his head and slid down onto the floor.

“We will,” he said firmly. “After my legs don’t feel like they are about to fall off!”

Desmond let out a short, irritated sigh, but didn’t argue, and slowly sat next to the smaller man, stretching his legs with visible relief.

“What happened all of a sudden?” Raven wished for a cigarette so much that his teeth were aching. “It seemed like you would rather sit in one spot, waiting for an exit to pop in front of us; and now, you are acting like this place is about to explode within the next hour!”

“That’s because I didn’t think that time might run differently in here,” Desmond answered gloomily. “I don’t want to be asleep for several years...! My muscles will atrophy!”

Raven hemmed at that.

“Even if time does run differently here, I don’t think it’s that big of a difference,” he reasoned. “Plus, there is always a chance that it runs faster on this side... Maybe when we wake up, only a couple of hours would pass in reality...”

“Maybe,” Desmond said as gloomily as before.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, Desmond winced.

“Will you stop thinking about the damn cigarettes already?” he demanded, and Raven frowned.

“I thought you said you didn’t eavesdrop,” he said evenly.

“I am not,” Desmond replied sharply. “It just feels like you shouting it as loud as you can...! I need one too, and you are not helping, screaming it out like this...”

“Sorry,” Raven sighed and tried switching his thoughts onto something else. “So,” he said a few minutes later, managing to shove the image of a cigarette farther into the back of his mind. “How did you and your mate meet?”

Desmond looked at him with a small frown.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“Making a conversation,” Raven shrugged. “Keeps my mind off smoking.”

Desmond hemmed and relaxed somewhat, shifting slightly on the floor, changing the angle of his legs.

“He...” he smiled to himself. “He knocked me out in the alley one night...” He glanced at Raven. “With a bat,” he nodded. “Then he chained me to a pipe in his house.”

“That’s...” Raven said slowly. “...romantic,” he finished with a slight, confused nod. Desmond smiled again.

“Actually, your mate is the one to blame for that,” he said, and then slightly frowned. “Come to think of it,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess if not for your mate, Rayhe and I would never meet... Holy hell...” he muttered and shook his head. “What about you?” he looked at still puzzled Raven a minute later. “How did you end up with Salamander? Did you attend one of his soirees, started sucking his blood, and then love just bloomed...?”

Raven laughed softly at that.

“No,” he shook his head. “I was supposed to steal something from him...” He threw a quick glance at Desmond. “That rock,” he said. “The one Magda was after...”

Desmond nodded a quick ‘I got it, go on.’

“Well,” Raven sighed. “He caught me,” he said thoughtfully. “Because of my own stupidity mostly,” he grimaced.

“What happened?” Desmond asked with genuine interest after the smaller man fell silent.

Raven smiled without baring his teeth.

“He raped me,” he said and looked at Desmond calmly.

“Okay...” Desmond said slowly. “I thought you didn't get off on pain...”

“I don’t,” Raven smiled again. “And in the beginning, it did hurt...”

“In the beginning,” Desmond repeated.

“Yeah,” Raven looked into the mirror in front of him. “Then he changed the angle somewhat, and hit just the right spot...” he sighed. “And in the end...” he looked at Desmond again with the same calm smile. “I never came so hard in my entire life,” he nodded. “I hated the entire ordeal,” he continued thoughtfully. “Hated him, hated myself... Well, a couple of weeks later, he found me... Started showing up at my apartment almost every day,” he threw another quick glance at very thoughtful by now Desmond. “Just for sex,” he nodded.

“Wasn’t rape anymore, right?” Desmond asked in a low voice.

“Wasn’t rape anymore,” Raven agreed. “Well, then several months later...” He frowned for a second. “Sometime in December, I think... That was when I realized that I managed to fall for him...”

“Apparently, it was mutual,” Desmond said in the same low voice, remembering that certain look in Salamander’s eyes back in April when he looked at Raven.

“Yeah...” Raven smiled again. “Surprised the hell out of me,” he nodded, and then shrugged. “Anyway, that’s how we ended up together...”

“How does he get his pain fix?” Desmond frowned. “I mean, clearly, he is not hurting you...”

“He doesn’t hurt me,” Raven said without looking away from Desmond’s green eyes.

“I see,” the ex-assassin nodded slowly. “Do you even know whom he is hurting?” he asked darkly.

“If sex is involved, then yes,” Raven nodded as calmly as before.

“Takes one to know one,” Desmond muttered and looked at his reflection, away from Raven’s different-colored eyes.

“I suppose,” Raven shrugged indifferently. “Wait,” he frowned a few seconds later. “What did you mean when you said that Julian was the reason that you and Rayhe are together?”

“Long story,” Desmond said, still without looking at the other man. “Had something to do with him trying to get his hands on me because I killed his first mate a while ago...”

“Oh, yeah,” Raven muttered. “Vivienne...”

“Yeah,” Desmond threw him a quick glance. “Her... Well,” he shrugged with a small, dark smile. “I guess he wouldn’t get so worked up over her if he knew that he wasn’t the only one...” He cut himself off abruptly. “Never mind,” he quickly shook his head.

Raven frowned at his slip of the tongue.

“If he knew he wasn’t the only one what?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Desmond shook his head once again. “Let’s move it...”

Raven frowned deeper without making a slightest attempt to get up.

“Let’s move it,” Desmond repeated somewhat impatiently.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” Raven asked quietly, and the green-eyed man slowly leaned onto the wall behind him again.

“I never said that,” he said calmly without shifting his gaze.

“You are not the type to let things to slip out,” Raven looked at him without a smile. “Why did you want me to know?”

Desmond looked at him without saying anything and without blinking. Raven let out a dark smile.

“No,” he said as quietly as before. “I am not going to tell him... Not because of you, but because it would hurt him in the way he doesn’t enjoy; and I would never do that to him. If that makes me fucked-up in the head...” he shrugged. “Then so be it.”

“Actually, this doesn’t make you fucked-up in the head,” Desmond said in a low voice. “Other things? Hell, yeah; but this one actually makes you anything but fucked-up...”

“Good for me,” Raven muttered and got up. “Let’s move it.”

...He followed Desmond silently, a tight frown on his forehead, hands shoved into his pockets. “Why did she do it?” he mused darkly without even thinking that Desmond could have lied; somehow, he knew that the other man was telling the truth. “Wonder if Specter was the only one...” He gritted his teeth and pushed all those thoughts deep down into his mind, locking the door and throwing away the imaginary key. “I am not going to think about it again,” he said silently. “I am not going to...”

Suddenly, Desmond came to an abrupt stop, and Raven, who wasn’t paying much attention, lost in his dark thoughts, ran into him and stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance.

“What...” he started saying angrily after he managed to keep himself upright, catching the mirrored wall just in time.

“Shhh...!” Desmond threw his hand up without looking at him, and Raven stopped talking.

He glanced around warily, wondering what it was this time.

“Do you hear that?” Desmond muttered after a few long seconds.

Raven listened harder, and almost said, ‘Hear what?’ when suddenly, he did hear it. There was some strange, clanking sound somewhere ahead of them, although it was difficult to tell the direction the sound was coming from because of all the echoes.

“Yeah...” he said slowly. “What the hell is that sound?”

“I don’t know...” Desmond cocked his head to the right, listening more intently. “It sounds like it’s getting closer...”

Raven frowned deeper, the sound becoming vaguely familiar. He had heard something like this before, he thought tightly. What was it...? He couldn’t remember and bit his lip in frustration rather harshly. Suddenly, he remembered and looked at Desmond with wide eyes.

“It’s the sound of claws,” he said quickly, and the green-eyed man looked at him without blinking. “Claws on the hard floor,” Raven nodded.

They threw identically quick glances at the mirrored floor. Desmond looked around, scanning every single mirror with blink-free eyes.

“Over there,” he muttered and swiftly moved to the left.

Raven followed him without asking any useless questions. He hated that sound; he recognized it because his merciless memory flashed at him a bright and clear image of Rufus walking slowly towards his food bowl, his long, sharp, strangely non-retractable claws making a clanking impact with his Aunt’s hardwood floor – his Aunt never believed in clipping her pet’s toenails. The sound they heard right now was a lot stronger and louder, and Raven knew that whatever made that sound was much bigger than a cat. It sounded like Rufus’ claws multiplied by twenty.

They dove into the little corridor on their left, and Raven cursed in a hissing whisper – it was another dead-end.

“Shhh...!” Desmond’s hand flew up once again, and Raven pressed his back into the wall, holding his breath.

“Maybe it’s just another illusion,” he thought without making any noise. “To scare all crap out of us...”

Yeah, maybe that what it was, but he was not going to take any chances. Desmond slammed his back into the mirror right next to Raven, holding his breath just as the other man did, without taking his eyes off the opening on their right. After what felt like an eternity, something slowly walked by their dead-end alcove, and Raven blinked rapidly when he saw what it was. That thing looked like a nightmarish version of a Doberman; except, it was at least twice as big, with glowing ruby-red eyes, and it was wearing something that resembled horns.

Raven pressed his back harder into the wall, locking his teeth on his lip, swallowing every single sound that was about to emerge from his throat. He had no idea whether this was an illusion, and he didn’t have a slightest desire to try and test it, because if it was real... Raven shuddered without finishing his thought.

The beast paused next to their alcove, its paw raised uncertainly, its long, pointy ears jerking impatiently. Raven forced himself to stop breathing. Finally, the beast relaxed somewhat and walked away from the alcove, the sound of its nightmarish claws disappearing in the distance. Raven slowly let out all that air he was holding in his lungs.

“Was that an illusion?” he muttered almost inaudibly, and Desmond slowly shook his head.

“No,” he whispered. “That was real...”

Raven’s back tingled with a harsh, unpleasant cold shiver.

“How do you know?” he asked in the same tight whisper.

“It had thoughts,” Desmond turned his head towards the other man. “Well...” he frowned quickly. “It had one thought...” he nodded. “Kill,” he finished, and Raven just stared at him.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” he said finally in a low voice, and Desmond silently nodded. “Let’s go,” Raven glanced into the mirrors, making sure the corridor reflected nothing but emptiness. “Let’s hope that if there are any more of those, we would be able to hear them as well...”

“Yeah,” Desmond muttered, and they left their alcove, throwing around wary, cautious glances.