Vices and Maces

Chapter 54: He Really Needed That Cookie

CW: panic attack, mentions of: torture and bones breaking

Virgil was shaken up when he got to his car. He knew he was in no condition to drive, considering he couldn't even feel his legs and his hands were shaking so much, but he wasn't going to stay here a moment longer, not even in the parking lot.

He didn't think of where he was driving, but didn't plan on driving long. Even if he felt safe enough to go to the factory, which he doesn't, he didn't think he could make it that far before breaking down. So he just went a few miles down the road before turning into town, trying to keep himself numb to the ice cold fear coursing through his veins. He turned into a parking garage as his breath grew unsteady and he quickly found a parking space.

Putting the car in park was done on instinct, muscle memory. The moment his hands were free, he brought them up to his head, running his fingers through his hair as the tears blurred his vision. He felt scales pushing their way through the skin on his neck, growing up to his jaw and a few growing on his cheeks. Horns grew out through his hair, slim and straight, the point growing away from his face.

Wings grew from his back, pushing around him, the seatbelt constricting movement until he felt too nauseous to keep it buckled and he hit the button. He curled up in his seat as it moved away, the wings encasing him as he let out a small sob, hot tears trailing down his face.

His mind was a flurry of bad thoughts and memories. What would Black do if he found out Virgil's the mole? Would he kill him right away, or would he torture him for information before doing so? Breaking every bone, deep cuts and bruises... Virgil's been jumped before by Wolfsbane members, they made sure he could barely walk. Being tortured would be ten times worse than that, he wouldn't survive.

He can't do this, he can't work with gangs any longer! It's way too dangerous. He's going to die, there's no getting out of this. And Black will make sure it's painful.

He scrubbed at his face, taking a deep breath. He can't afford to waste time, Black might have said he can take his time with the laser but he shouldn't risk it. Once he finishes the lasers, he'll be killed. Any moment he has to work against Wolfsbane he has to take it.

Virgil pulled out the small leather bound notebook, he always kept it on him. He couldn't afford to leave it behind to be found, there were too many weapon ideas in it that he hasn't made simply because they're either weak, hard to make, or too devastating.

He found some of the strongest weapons and pulled out a pen from the storage compartment under the middle armrest. On some blank pages he copied down the notes in English, redrawing certain drawings. Every page he finished, he tore out and folded up.

He must have spent an hour doing that, the pile of notes growing bigger and bigger. Virgil looked behind his seat and found a bag, stacking the papers together before stuffing them in it. He looked out of the parking garage to see where he was, recognizing a few buildings. The bakery was near, he could just drop them off there.

He made sure to leave his phone in the car so Black couldn't track him there. Calming down enough to hide his dragon traits, he started walking to the bakery. The fresh air felt good on his skin. His hair was always tied back, but it had started to come undone so he quickly redid it. It wasn't too long, halfway down his neck, but he kept his bangs shorter than that.

He finished tying the hair band as he reached the bakery. Taking another deep breath calmed him enough to appear okay. As long as he wasn't pale or sweaty, trembling was easier to hide, all he had to do was squeeze the purse.

The bell above the door rang as he walked in, and Virgil saw the satyr working on something behind the counter. "Hello," she greeted as the door closed behind her. She paused for a moment when she saw him, then recognition filled her face. "Oh, you're back. How did that mission go?"