The Confectionary Chronicles || HP/SPN

Lollies and Loki- CH28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:

As consciousness returned to her, the first thing Hermione became aware of was that she couldn't move her arms or legs more than a few inches, bound as she was. She was stretched out over rock, a stone altar of sorts, with her shoulders trussed down, a single length of chain twisted around her body, under her armpits, winding round and round her hips then clamping her kneecaps to the stone before tying tight around her legs. Her body was trapped in a painful arch that had her back already aching, and when she tried to lift her head to look at how she was trapped, she abruptly learned there was a loop of the chain around her neck too, preventing her from lifting her head more than an inch or two.

Panic shot through her like lightning; it sparked all her senses alive and into overdrive and she yanked desperately at the chain binding her, her struggles only increasing when she realised just how useless her attempts to free herself were. The stone she was bound to was as unyielding as the chain; hard, solid and cold in a way that felt as if it was leeching all the warmth from her body. Her arms and lower legs were bare, her skirt tangled around her knees, and she was already shivering, her teeth chattering loudly– though that could also be the shock.

She tried to force herself to calm down before she ended up strangling herself with useless, panic-driven struggles, tried to observe her surroundings with a desperately grasped for cool detachment– she was inside a cave, dimly lit by a light source out of her range of vision, rocky walls covered in runes and sigils painted in what appeared to be blood– but any attempts at calm were destroyed by a single sound that pierced straight through her, right to her very soul, a sound like a swarm of wasps but far more terrifying; a long, drawn-out serpent's hiss.

'And then Skadi did carry a vile snake into the cave. She fastened it to a stalactite high up in the darkness so that its venom would drip straight on to Loki's face. For all his wiles and wit, there was nothing Loki could do'

Barely able to breathe in her panic, Hermione looked up– and directly above her in her line of sight, winding its sinuous body down a stalactite, was a snake; just like it had been written in "The Binding of Loki".

"No," Hermione choked, her struggles renewing with desperation enough that the tightening of the loop of chain around her neck almost caused her to pass out. As the snake drew closer, swaying slightly as it stretched out from the end of the stalactite with the upper length of its body, those bared fangs with the clear, glistening beads of venom clinging to deadly curves getting closer and closer, Hermione felt so sick with fear she thought she might throw up and drown in her own sick.

She wasn't prepared for the first drip of venom, didn't even notice it falling with as close to an outright panic attack she'd found herself in, not until it landed on her cheek and she let out a shocked, agonised shriek of unbearable pain– the snake's venom felt like fire and acid and her skin bubbled and burned where it touched.

She thrashed in her bindings, hysterical sobs tearing from her throat, her bare skin scraping roughly against where it was held tight to the stone she was bound to, bloodying the altar as it bruised and tore, but in her desperation Hermione didn't care about the damage she was doing to herself, didn't care about the smears of red she was leaving on the stone of the altar. LokiLokiLoki she prayed desperately, a strangled scream escaping her lips at the next drip of venom that fell, dripping onto her cheek and trickling a threatening, blistering trail towards her eye, like a terrible parody of a reverse-tear. She had to nearly strangle herself, lifting her head as high as she could without blocking her breathing entirely, so that gravity didn't drag the venom down into her eyes; it hurt enough on skin.

Her breathing was raspy, her screams strangled by the chain-links digging harshly into her throat, and tears leaked continuously from her eyes. It took a long time for her to compartmentalise the torture enough to calm down to the extent that she could gather her thoughts, the combination of agony, terror and panic all overwhelming in their own devastating ways, but it was the sound of a voice that dragged her from her emotional maelstrom and allowed her to focus her attention on the present.