Challenge 20: It's Always the Butler
Apr. 18th, 2013 06:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eaemiliaTitle: Speeches to Die For
Cliche used: Gloating over an enemies' predicament before killing them
Word Count: 450
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: original
Pairings (if any): Christopher/Emma
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: It is, of course, Krull's speech that inspires Christopher to get up and kill him.
This was the end.
In the end, he hadn’t been able to get revenge for his father or save Emma. Christopher was, all things considered, a total and utter failure. Everything that he had worked for, everything that he had hoped for was going to disappear here and now.
And he was going to die along with it.
Forced to kneel at Lord Krull’s feet and watch Emma dangle above a pit filled with crocodiles, Christopher was sure that he had reached his deepest point of despair. It would be crueler for Krull to leave him alive and let him rot and death would almost be a mercy.
“It is always a pleasure to see a man kneel before me. The last time I received such pleasure though was when your father was in your place. I always hated that man, and there is certain kind of pleasure in watching a man you hate beg for his life, and I think that there will be an extra pleasure in watching a hated man’s son die.” Krull’s voice was deep and rough and authoritative, the voice of a man who has been in command of other men all of his life and has enjoyed watching them suffer under him.
As Krull spoke, Christopher’s anger grew, but his desolation grew with it. His slashed open leg couldn’t support his weight, and his sword was tucked in Krull’s belt.
Krull walked to Emma, so precariously hanging over his pet reptiles, and took hold of her chin. Her face scrunched up in distaste, but she couldn’t do anything else unless she wanted to swim among them any sooner.
“It is unfortunate that you have to die,” he told her. “But, it will be so much better to watch his face as he listens to your screams.”
Anger was a heavy film falling across his vision. The desolation in his heart was gone as Krull spoke his filthy words to Emma. As his hand fell from Emma’s face, Christopher found himself scrambling to his feet and lunging at the man. There was no thought or planning in his action, and Christopher found himself almost as surprised as Krull was when it was his screams of pain and not Emma’s ricocheting out of the pit.
In his daze, he managed to pull Emma down and get them out of the room, before the rush of anger wore off.
He lay almost comatose in the middle of the hallway, his ruined leg no longer supporting him, as the realization of what he had done filled him.
“Christopher,” Emma asked, “what are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, unable to move. “I don’t know.”
Cliche used: Gloating over an enemies' predicament before killing them
Word Count: 450
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: original
Pairings (if any): Christopher/Emma
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: It is, of course, Krull's speech that inspires Christopher to get up and kill him.
This was the end.
In the end, he hadn’t been able to get revenge for his father or save Emma. Christopher was, all things considered, a total and utter failure. Everything that he had worked for, everything that he had hoped for was going to disappear here and now.
And he was going to die along with it.
Forced to kneel at Lord Krull’s feet and watch Emma dangle above a pit filled with crocodiles, Christopher was sure that he had reached his deepest point of despair. It would be crueler for Krull to leave him alive and let him rot and death would almost be a mercy.
“It is always a pleasure to see a man kneel before me. The last time I received such pleasure though was when your father was in your place. I always hated that man, and there is certain kind of pleasure in watching a man you hate beg for his life, and I think that there will be an extra pleasure in watching a hated man’s son die.” Krull’s voice was deep and rough and authoritative, the voice of a man who has been in command of other men all of his life and has enjoyed watching them suffer under him.
As Krull spoke, Christopher’s anger grew, but his desolation grew with it. His slashed open leg couldn’t support his weight, and his sword was tucked in Krull’s belt.
Krull walked to Emma, so precariously hanging over his pet reptiles, and took hold of her chin. Her face scrunched up in distaste, but she couldn’t do anything else unless she wanted to swim among them any sooner.
“It is unfortunate that you have to die,” he told her. “But, it will be so much better to watch his face as he listens to your screams.”
Anger was a heavy film falling across his vision. The desolation in his heart was gone as Krull spoke his filthy words to Emma. As his hand fell from Emma’s face, Christopher found himself scrambling to his feet and lunging at the man. There was no thought or planning in his action, and Christopher found himself almost as surprised as Krull was when it was his screams of pain and not Emma’s ricocheting out of the pit.
In his daze, he managed to pull Emma down and get them out of the room, before the rush of anger wore off.
He lay almost comatose in the middle of the hallway, his ruined leg no longer supporting him, as the realization of what he had done filled him.
“Christopher,” Emma asked, “what are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, unable to move. “I don’t know.”