Chapter 22

Harry paced back and fourth in the bathroom trying desperately to wean the time until he knew for sure the drugged wine had kicked in for his guest of honor. Tristan slept soundly in his arms, he had just got the babe out of his bath and had the bottle downed within minutes. He was supposed to be preparing his body for the nightly ritual from the last six weeks, but in actuality he was fully dressed and ready to leave at a moments notice.

"Come love, I'm getting tired and I want to use that pretty little arse of yours to wear myself out completely." Voldemort's slurred words echoed from the bedroom. Harry's breath hitched in his chest. Prolonging for a few more minutes wouldn't hurt—right? Looking down at the pocket watch held tightly in his right hand, Harry watched in fascination as each tick went by, counting down the moments of the time he'd finally be free. But first things first, Harry laid the slumbering infant into the empty tub and dug around the vanity table's drawer for a few minutes until he pulled out a lovely silver dagger incrusted with both emerald and onyx stones—a gift the Dark Lord had received from Grindelwald himself—what kind of idiot leaves a prized antique in his study? Smiling at his good fortune, Harry tucked the dagger into the waistband of his jeans, and walked out of the grand bathroom with a small bounce in his step. His happy go lucky stature only got better upon seeing the slumped over man lying on the floor in front of the bed. With little care, Harry flung the Dark Lord onto the bed and proceeded to tie the disgusting snake down with articles of clothing that were easy to bind. Once that was accomplished, Harry padded Voldemort down and divested the man of his wand before he stripped the man of his dark colored garb. Harry stepped back and admired his work before he went back into the bathroom and placed his unconscious child into the pillowcase set aside and spelled by an associate of Jackal's for this occasion. After Tristan was secured, Harry reentered the bedroom with a dark gleam in his eye as he found the Dark Lord's eyes starting to blink open.

"I hope you don't mind the change in plans, but I was growing tired of this bondage shit, so I decided to go straight for the cut throat action. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this—no idea." Harry murmured as he drew the dagger from the waistband of his jeans and approached Lord Voldemort, drinking up the look of dread and fear that came into the velvet red eyes with each step that Harry took. Harry pressed the point of the blade against Voldemort's chest and lightly traced a line down to the man's navel. Voldemort's breathing hitched with fear, but was still unable to move and so couldn't do a damn thing to counteract his once broken slave that seemed to have suddenly inherited all the strength and courage in the world. "You know I think I've grown quite tired with sucking your fucking cock, so why don't you do it yourself and let me know how it feels to be the one on the other end of your sick, twisted little fantasies!"

With that said, Harry raised the knife, and with a careless jerk of his hand, the appendage that normally nestled between the Dark Lord's thighs was castrated and slammed down the man's throat, muffling the guttural screams of pain and terror as it did so.

"Oh stop screaming and take it like a man, Master!" Harry crooned as he went about slashing up the man's skin, mutilating the body so that when his servants came across the body, it would take them a while of long speculation to realize just whose body they had come across. "You've taken every last quality that's left me human. I no longer fear, feel, or believe, and I'm going to make you and your army feel every ounce of pain I've been inflicted with. And when you rise, and rise you shall, it'll be to a world of fear, and you will see just what harm I can do." With that last announcement, Harry slammed the blade into the man's chest, and like the most experienced of butchers, Harry cut out from the man his heart, and with the organ still beating in his hand, Harry threw the heart into the flames of the fireplace. Harry watched without satisfaction as a shadowy apparition emerged from the fireplace and fled the room once the heart had been completely turned to ash. Turning back to the body, Harry witnessed his mastery mutilation of butchery crumble to ashes, it too blowing away until all that was left were the charred and bloody sheets upon the crimson bed.

Rushing to the bathroom, absolutely breathless, and still enthralled about the murder he just committed, Harry spent the next half hour washing the blood from his hands, neck, arms, and whatever body part still exposed. This was followed by the cleansing of the ceremony dagger before he dressed his self into a clean shirt and returned to the pillowcase holding his child that had been resting in the large top drawer of the armory. Stopping in front of the door still holding him prisoner in the room that now smelt of decay and burning flesh, Harry knocked thirteen precise beats into the oak door.

"Took you long enough," Jackal grumbled from where he stood outside the main chamber he had just exited out of. All Harry did was shrug as he slung the pillowcase holding his slumbering son over his shoulder before he took hold of the ceremony dagger along the waist of his jeans; his body was tense in preparation of an attack that he knew was bound to happen. Jack disappeared through the chamber door, curious to see the revenge Harry had carried, and from the amount of the blood he found soaking the large bed, the walls, the drapery, the furniture, and of course the floor, Jack was far from disappointed. Truthfully, Jackal was quite impressed with the little stunt pulled off from the man he had once thought to have become weak. Exiting back out carrying the madman's wand, Jackal motioned for Harry to follow silently. Going through the large estate, the duo only came across three servants who were all slaughtered successfully before any alarms could go off. Harry was actually quite stunned there wasn't heavy security so close to the Dark Lord's chambers; Harry figured Jackal must've gotten rid of them prior to his arrival at the door. "That was the easy part. When we get to the entrance hall we will have heavier security there so be ready, Shadow." Jackal assured him as he pulled out from beneath his cloak no knives, sword, or wand, but an antique machine gun that probably dated back to the Prohibition Era. Leave it to Jackal to go for the Tommy Gun—oh goodie.

"Are you sure it's a good thing to use that thing—you'll wake the dead for sure, and hell knows who else lives here." Harry commented dryly as they came to a dark alcove hidden behind a statue of Gryldowen, Voldemort's predecessor back in their glory days.

"I'm not known and feared by all for nothing, my boy. I silenced it the moment I bought it." Jack replied, seeming offended that Harry would think so little of his preparation for the attack. Without another word between them, Jackal flipped off the safety on the gun and continued on down the hall with his reluctant, onetime protégé on his heels. The longer they walked down the long, compact corridor, the easier it became to hear voices, many voices at the end of the corridor where the flickering of torches lit the end of the channel in a glowing, surreal, light that left it difficult for Harry to see even with the vampire blood aiding him. Lucky for Harry he had Jackal that had better than perfect vision in the darkest of places, and this at least soothed his panicked emotions.

"There's a forest that forms right outside the manor, there's a watchtower two miles in, that will be the meeting point." Jackal whispered as he kneeled down and peered out a corner where the voices were coming from.

"Meeting point? Who are we to be meeting?" Harry asked quietly, but all he received was a mischievous smile that left him as paranoid as ever. He knew little about the actual escape plan other than the dealing with Voldemort as that had been the only part of the plan revealed to him. Now Harry would be stumbling around in the dark, and he would be taking his infant son with him, and that scared him to no end. "Jackal, how many soldiers are we dealing with?" Harry knew his voice sounded scared, weak, something he needed to keep hidden if they were going to pull this stunt off, confidence was always key.

"I'm not quite sure, actually. It differs from day to day considering Voldemort is at war in the Wizarding World. Some days all of the ranks of deatheaters could be found here, others it'll be scarce due to a mission, you never know what you are going to get. That is why you are going to be a good little boy, listen to me, and hide your ass behind that pillar until I tell for you to follow." Harry scowled. Great, now he wasn't going to get in on the action, and after all he went through, a little release didn't sound too bad.

Harry took cover behind a pillar, kneeling down over the pillowcase, arms over his head as he shied away from the pelting bullets flying across the air, each landing successful into their marks of men that collapses, shock and horror written all over their pale gaunt faces at the fact that they had just been so easily taken down by a muggle contraption. Jackal's haunting laughter rang smugly throughout the air as the screams of the dying watchmen drew other deatheaters into the heart of this surprise attack. Harry felt cowardly hiding behind this pillar, watching his former mentor take down two dozen deatheaters with a single firearm, but he knew he had to get out of there alive, he had to make it out of this hell, he was a survivor, and survivors always prosper in the end—even if it means leaving a fallen man behind. Not that leaving Jackal would be a hard burden to bare, Harry still didn't trust the man as far as he could throw him, but since the ex-leader turned vampire was his only way out, Harry bit his lip and stayed quiet.

"Move now, Shadow!" Jack barked, blasting the front door open, Harry wasted no time in following his words, trying to block out the Death Eaters that lay sprawled across the floor in agonizing pieces, but he failed miserably when a gloved hand snagged his ankle, almost causing him to land on his face. Harry gazed down at the man that held his foot captive and was surprised to find he was looking down at a boy that was younger than he was. The boy was crying, begging to be saved, but Harry couldn't do it, he would not be this boy's savior. Thankfully, the option was taken from him when Jackal returned and blew a hole into the boy's head, releasing Harry from an obligation and ending the boy's pain all in one go. "Run!" Harry was propelled forward and he quickly found his footing, bringing out longer strides as he fled from held and into the courtyard that seemed deserted. Harry was starting to wonder how they were going to find this watchtower through a forest with no sense of direction when Jackal once again answered his question, arms wrapped themselves firmly around his waist and he was lifted into the air.

"Gee, thanks for the warning, asshole." Harry snapped as he brought the pillowcase up into his arms and held tightly to the child within all the while he prayed that they would get to the watchtower in one bloody piece. Jackal chuckled and raised the two of them even higher into the sky until Harry could faintly feel his bare feet brush roughly against the trees below them. The spring night air was cold, too cold for what Harry was wearing, he probably should've gone for a jacket or jumper—something! But then he saw it, the dull glow not far ahead that was barely noticeable if you weren't looking for it. The watchtower!

"Hold tight." Jackal advised cautiously and both Jackal and Harry bent their knees and landed hard on the balcony of the rundown tower. Still shaken about the whole ordeal, Jackal followed carelessly after his jail bailer and into the small shack on top of the tower. Inside, Harry was pleased to find who was inside. There stood Knives and Knuckles, decked out and ready for battle as they always were. Though Harry admitted they both seemed tired, worn, and wearing thin, it was written all over their faces. "What did I tell you, I brought Shadow as promised. Don't all bow down at once." Jackal laughed arrogantly; all the while the three gang brothers embraced each other. "Alright, alright enough of this, we have to move quickly."

"So—what do you guys so fucking long?" Harry asked angrily, now fully registering how long he had been locked away for the first time. Seven months—he had been locked away for seven months! "Well, fuck." Harry whispered breathlessly.

A/N: I updated! And don't worry, my second semester doesn't start until the end of Jan. so I will be updating soon. Mostly because I felt bad that this was such a short chapter. I hope everyone had and will have good holidays!