The Dark Enchanted Forest AU Eight (NSFW?)
Here it is...I am accomplished but also so tired now...X_X
Dark content trigger warnings apply...Killian POV!
His vision colored red in an instant, the pain that shot through him was of such magnitude and degree, that Killian knew with all absolute certainty that he should be dead. In fact, already WOULD have been, if not for one simple and unfortunate fact. He was no longer human, not in any technical sense of the word, his soul still the same, but his body ever so different. So far removed from that of any other living being in truth, the if only of what he should have been, didn’t stand a chance against what he was in actuality.
Unnatural.
With that monster inside him, Killian Jones was both less and both more, the lowest of the low with all the enhancements of what was tantamount to the utmost in supreme predator. With an unholy speed and such immense power, strengths born of both the physical and that of the magical, and with little of anything to restrain them, it took no effort at all to survive the killing blow done them. The Dark One inside him then shunting off all of that pain to the man, to the human, Killian’s soul made to suffer every staggering second and bit of it. He felt the bile rise, his otherwise empty stomach ready to vomit, the pirate choking on a breath that he no longer truly needed to take. That blood color was still there, distorting everything, even her, the Light itself a muted twinkle that still hurt to gaze upon directly.
Unable to focus, and wanting to collapse into a merciful oblivion, such a luxury was still not allowed him, Killian swaying in place on his feet, upright but barely, so dizzy and unprepared for the second strike of the rock. Skin split open once more, something wet and sticky sliding off of one temple, as bone inside surely cracked. Something inside him rattled and wheezed with its foul laughter, the Dark One more than enjoying the suffering that the pirate was now being put through. It took a seat back for the show, watching as Emma of Mist Haven, went in for a third strike with a rock now made soaked and slippery with Killian’s blood.
Not quite able to focus well enough to stop her, Killian still made the attempt, roughly shoving her from him. She stumbled for that surprise, but her anger was such, that the princess immediately recovered, bouncing forward with such lethal intent, as though she would end the world’s problems and that of her own personal torment, by bashing in the Dark One’s brain.
“Bloody hell, enough!” His patience having lost to the excruciating pain she had put him in, he had now snapped, his hand catching her about the wrist, in so harsh a grip, that Emma of Mist Haven was forced to drop her ill shaped weapon, that of a rock made even redder and fragmented from so violent a use, which then clattered to the ground with a solid thump. Even the sound of it, made his pain throb harsher yet, Killian still maintaining a brutal grip on the princess who was struggling still, his booted foot slamming forth to kick that granite chunk away from them, from her in particular, and amid the Dark One’s taunting laughter, there was too much screaming going on. Both the Light and that of the princess, Emma of Mist Haven so angry but also so panicked, while the creature housed within her was made desperate in its attempts to reason with one who was so beyond it at this point.
All of it added to his hurt, the pain in his head having spread through to every part of his body, slicing into him with such excruciating agony, even with that of the act of the unnatural way his body began to heal anew, skin and bone stitching together so flawlessly that there would remain no evidence of the initial traumas. Not even that of a scar, his body in a perfect stasis, unchanging and unable to age even one second’s worth more, the pirate locked forever into that moment when he had plunged the dagger in, nothing about him able to progress and move forward, not even that of his hair, Killian Jones frozen at the height of his youth and vitality, but also in that of his despair.
He was something less than human, a freak, his body a vessel that was meant to be easily discarded and abused, the monster inside him having no care for the soul housed within. An unwilling host to a parasite, it had been entire centuries if not more, since Killian Jones has had any semblance of control. This one taste, painful though it was proving, was something to savor and hold dear, the pirate not ready in any way to hand back his body to the Dark One, not even in trade for a single second of relief.
Motivated for himself, but even more so for HER, there was so much riding on him, on them, the princess and that otherworldly being inside her, both the one and only chance left to this world. It pumped motivation through him, more than any he had felt since his Alice, so much time lost since that then and this here now, this woman and the Light within her, at long last having given the man, the pirate, a reason, a purpose to cling to and fight for. A hope, slim though it might be, he’d claw at it both tooth and nail in an attempt to hold onto that feeling, to return just the chance of it to them.
He was near desperate to, having been made to owe so much, the weight of the Dark One’s sins having bogged his soul down, the blood of so many on his hands, his body the physical embodiment of so much torture inflicted, such screams and the sights that went with them, having haunted him with their memories for every waking moment of this nightmare. Scarred so by the impressions they had left behind, the agony and that terror, such violence relived over and over in truth, with only the faces changing, woman after woman made to suffer and die, was it any wonder that the man, that Killian Jones, had been driven insane?
He had been made to bear witness to more cruelties, depravities, and violence than any one person should have been allowed, this near endless cycle of torments such that little by little, his own mind had fragmented and split, each piece of him lost to the mire of foul darkness inside. Swallowed up whole, each bit that had broken off had now been brought back, plucked from that tar like quicksand that Killian had found himself trapped in, the Light within Emma of Mist Haven, having searched out and gathered together, every bit of lucidity lost, the pirate’s mind being pieced together whole in an instant, by that one saving touch.
Returned to himself once more, he was neither healed from the horrors that his body had borne witness to, nor absolved of them. He might never be, the sentiments held inside him such that Killian Jones felt himself so undeserving. Of redemption and of forgiveness, blaming himself as much as he did the monster, for his shortcomings, that inability to act, to stop the foulness that had been repeated, over and over, and on so many, it didn’t much matter that it hadn’t been Killian in truth, but that of another, a creature so evil that it defied definition, its hand the catalyst for so much violence and sin.
That Darkness inside him, that thing still slithered about, waiting and watching, its weight a taunting presence that lent credence to the urgency felt within him. They didn’t have time! SHE didn’t have time, Emma of Mist Haven still caught in that angry kind of panic, her eyes wild with her fright and with that defiance, trying to pull free of that iron shackle of a grip upon her, lashing out with both her free arm, and that of her legs, trying to hurt and knock off balance, the man that was restraining her. He tried to stand solid against every blow, the pain weathered a penance for every wrong that had been done her, that wild and spastic flailing such that even HIS patience finally snapped, a surge of anger spiking within him that had nothing to do with the monster, and everything to do with the man, with his frustration and torment, that Emma of Mist Haven, suddenly found herself flung to the ground.
He could then hear the sound of breathing, that wild rasp of sound not just from her, but from him, Killian Jones trying to temper the damage his tongue could do. There was still so much anger on the tip of it, so much vitriol that could be expressed, the man HURTING and caught in a pain all his own, so much time spent lost without a voice, made to bear silent witness to so much horror, and little of any of it was Emma of Mist Haven’s fault, her attacks on him a paltry nuisance at best in the long line of what he’s already endured. Those memories, some more potent than others, screamed an accusation in his head, the pirate so wracked with a guilt that wasn’t truly his own to have earned, powerless as he has been and might still be, the monster such that it didn’t matter the form, any host could and would do, that thing able to slip from body to body so easily and effortlessly.
It could have been anyone before the princess, anyone at all, and there were lesser men out there, who wouldn’t have fought half as hard as Killian had. Cowards and craven dogs, ones with wicked natures, or even merely that of the meek, Emma of Mist Haven could have found herself off in worst hands than his. Though a fair share of misdeeds were upon them, there was also buried inside him, a heart that had once beat heroic, sacrificing so selflessly for another, that the world itself had gleaned some benefit from it. He hadn’t beat back the Dark, but in trapping himself with it, Killian Jones had also lessened its reach somewhat.
Its reach but not that of its influence, the world still made topsy turvey and left without sun, the people afraid, terrified, and reaching out hands to the one and only deity they had left, twisted and depraved though it was. A God without mercy, the people made to suffer and live only on its whims, enduring such hardship and decay, that even their misery made for a fine delicacy in which to feed and nourish the Dark. Fat off it, off of their fear, its own power only seemed to grow, strengthened by whatever the flavor of negativity was within their hearts. From the anxiety, to the many perversions, to every wicked impulse and criminal act, the worst that human nature had to offer, all helped to further empower the monster. It was an endless cycle of abuse, the Dark continuing to wreak its havoc, and leaving the humans with little of anything to hope for.
Even Killian Jones, the man whose body had been made the latest in a string of unwitting hosts, had eventually given in to despair. There had been nothing else left, his Alice made safe, but forever lost to him as a result. He still couldn’t regret the saving of her, knowing how easily it could have been his daughter made to suffer a fate similar to that of Emma of Mist Haven’s or worse. Little Alice might have had that strong spark of the Light within her, but it was also truth that its shine was dulled in comparison to full scope of the brilliant being within the princess now. Like no other female that had come before, and there had been many, everything from the tiniest slivers, to that of the more potent beams, and the Darkness had never before been satisfied, always searching, always ultimately KILLING, in a desperate attempt for this, the perfect vessel, the one host to be born that could hold the entirety of the Goddess within her.
Emma of Mist Haven was that host, and as things stood now, it was more curse than anything, death perhaps a mercy when weighed against the Darkness’ own based lusts. Such a wicked desire, it left even Killian Jones staggered by it, suffocating on the perverse pleasures the monster had already taken, it was those fiendish actions that had rightfully put that look of fear in the princess’ eyes. Panicked as she had been, it still couldn’t snuff out her defiance, that anger that had little to do with the Light, and everything to do with Emma, the royal lass holding her own need for justice, for righting the many wrongs done, not just to her, but to that of the entire world. Marked by the Goddess, but branded by her own fierce loyalty to the beliefs inside her still, this young woman was not yet ready to break or bend a knee to the Dark.
It was as admirable as it was surprising, that fire within her something so rare and ever so precious in this world. If tempered into a finer state, and working with that bright being inside her, would even they be able to finally put an end to the Dark’s relentless tyranny? He couldn’t say for sure, all those many years spent searching the realms, having never given rise to a definitive answer. That of a permanent way to end the Dark. Such a thing had eluded Killian then, as it still did to this very day, the dagger able to staunch the worst of it, but never destroy it in full. It was foolish to think otherwise, and the pirate was no longer THAT fool, rushing in with a theory and a weapon not fully understood. He wouldn’t make those same mistakes again, anymore then he would let her, all three of them needing to work together to reach an understanding of what could actually be effectively done. Only then could this nightmare end, the Darkness not just pushed back but defeated.
Or so he HOPED. It was all such a long shot, and the odds still seemed so insurmountable, Killian having spent more years than anyone else could ever lay claim to, studying the Dark for its most fatal of weaknesses. From inside and out, from the many books and tomes read, of all kinds of magic and lore pored over, to the up close and personal witness he had born to that fiend’s every act, there was still so much that the pirate didn’t know, the monster such a mystery that even its obsession with the Light, its hunt of it, hadn’t fully been understood in truth.
That was more than an understatement, Killian completely caught off guard by just what the Dark had wanted of the Light. Of its reaction to the Goddess reborn in full, that manic glee expressed, the possessive way it had taken hold of her, the care, twisted though it had ultimately been, it had shown her. For all its lust born violence, it had been downright GENTLE in its perverse adoration, Emma of Mist Haven surviving what no other had. It was something so shocking, so pitiable, the endured hardship one most apt to be repeated if they didn’t figure out something and SOON. Time’s tick had never been more felt than now, the pressure of it, and the weight of his responsibilities, something that could make just about anyone crack, Killian a nervous bundle of energy, frustrated but not stymied by the jade green glare that was cast up at him.
Her eyes were an angry enough challenge on their own, one that was daring the Dark to do its worst, but it was not that monster the princess was currently pitted against. Not that the pirate was of mind to dissuade her in full on that point, thinking it might be better if she hated him too. It was after all, a more potent tool than that of any pity she might show him, the latter a weakness that might be strong enough to stave her hand on the vain hopes of SAVING him. The stakes as they were, no one man was worth it, let alone HIM, his body having been made the instrument in which the Darkness had acted out its worse on so many for so long. His flesh forced to be an extension of the monster’s will and desires, Killian was left feeling unclean as a result. A victim as much as any other, yet too blind to see it, the man couldn’t, wouldn’t reach out for the redemption in full the Light had tried to dangle before him.
Noble in this but for all the wrong reasons, it was tantamount to suicide that the pirate had in mind. Thinking he’d go down gladly, if the monster were to be dragged along with him, it was almost a mockery of the gift the Light had given him. That sudden return to sanity, his mind clearer than it had been in a long time, and calculating in a way that the Goddess hadn’t anticipated, he’d read the distress plain off her, when she realized he wasn’t establishing himself as separate from the Dark One.
“What are you doing!?” Faint though it was, he could still hear the murmur of what passed for the Goddess’ voice. It was so weak and threaded, coming as though from an innumerable distance, such a direct contrast to the loud volume of the Dark. Even with the monster quiet as it now was, the Light seemed even quieter, her voice such a struggle to maintain but it WAS better than before. As though when they had touched, in giving Killian back his sanity, the Goddess had somehow gained back a piece of her own self in the process, small though it was.
He then wondered what else could she be given back, the Light for all of its blinding brilliance, seeming so weak and ineffectual when compared to how powerful the Darkness had become. Was it some sort of cosmic balance, each a perfect counterpart to the other? Or was there something more at work here, Killian Jones giving a more careful and considering look to the princess of Mist Haven.
There was as always, that bold jade color of her eyes, made fiercer yet by her anger and her glare. Such an expressive window into her soul, that shade of green was made so bright and animated, no matter the feelings within her, those mad emotions, the furious indignation and that wild panic, but also that of the defiance, hers was an endless field of such potent turmoil and challenge, that that alone had him fascinated, Emma of Mist Haven’s spirit something so admirable and attractive, and thus far unbroken. She might have have suffered the Dark but she had also survived it largely intact, every mark upon her flesh, tangible proof of the fight she still had left within her.
She was fierce in a way that not many, Killian included, would have credited to a princess. In that she broke barriers, Emma of Mist Haven a surprising but also intriguing mix, so brave and so bold, but also holding a fair share of foolish within her, the pirate in no way able to understand why she would come here, why she would have so willingly put herself at risk when it was so woefully clear just how unprepared both she and the Light had been for what they had ultimately faced. It was so infuriating and puzzling a mystery, more years perhaps needed before the young woman and the Goddess within her, could come into their own power. It WAS there though, as blatant as the nose on their face, some kind of strength within that body, some sort of magic that neither had thus far been able to access, sealed away as it was.
A countering magic, that lock upon them was woven thick with spell after spell, complicated runes and wards carved into the essence of both beings. Such a powerful mesh of them all, the creature made responsible for all this, had also layered upon it a concealing enchantment, one meant not just to hide what had been done, but to hide the very thing, the Goddess, whose presence inside the princess, had guaranteed she’d earn the attention of the Dark sooner than later.
Something---someone had wanted her hidden, a great deal of effort and time expended on such an endeavor. She had been sheltered, but also made crippled as a result, the princess and the Goddess housed within her, left helpless in the onslaught of dark magics and the raw physical strength of an ancient entity that had been so relentlessly on the hunt. They hadn’t stood a chance as a result, the magics that had perhaps been meant as a safeguard against it, ultimately working against them too.
“Foolish.” A muttered hiss under his breath, Killian continued to stare down at the princess, at the arcane magics woven about her. It practically stank of a faerie’s touch, though no single one could be this powerful alone. There had to have been a great gathering of their strength, those flighty females well meaning but also proving remarkably STUPID. Protecting instead of teaching, keeping Emma of Mist Haven ignorant of the power within, she should have been educated to gather and hone her strength, to make herself as lethal in truth as she was in intent.
She had the motivation still, Killian could see that in her eyes, in the way she gleamed defiant at him, all her hate and animosity channeled into so severe a focus, that its reminder still throbbed as a potent pain in his head. She hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t turned squeamish or shied away from a blow that had been meant to be killing, that righteous fury only in need of the correct weapon. He had a feeling its form was locked within her, but for all his knowledge and skill, the pirate hadn’t a clue as to what one would do to even begin unraveling that mess of magic upon her.
His eyes so critical upon her, on all that convoluted assortment of enchantments, he had forgotten how rude he was being, in staring at her so and for so long. He wasn’t ogling her as the Dark would, and yet she was made uncomfortable all the same. He couldn’t fault her for that, the pirate and the monster both one and the same to Emma of Mist Haven, the man still keeping her ignorant of that particular thing being all lie. He’d take her anger in place of the truth, not wanting her pity, it something the world itself was not in need of, Killian Jones just one more unfortunate to be sacrificed in the long line of things.
Prepared for that eventuality, even accepting of it, he was still caught of guard when the rightfully angry young woman snapped. “Admiring the marks of your handiwork!?”
He did a slow blink of his eyes, having to refocus his attention off the magic he been in so intent a study of, to the actual woman before him instead. She was so furious and red faced now, but also more than a little scared, if the betraying quiver of her frame was read right. She was still braver than all that had come before her, all those slivers of light, and bright beams, the many women who had been marked as tribute, sacrificed to the Dark One, to give everyone else a chance to keep on etching out so bleak an existence in this miserable world. All having been made desperate for it, for the chance to not only survive, but to somehow thrive, it was grim fact the terrible deeds that they had allowed to have done. Of the choices that had been made, the good of the many bought on the pain and misery of the few. It had gone on that way for centuries, the number of those that might wage a protest against it, so small in fact, that one hand alone was more than enough fingers to count on those who had actively tried to enact a change.
So few voices, and even less with the will to actually do something, for the longest of time there had been ONLY the pirate’s attempt that had tried to unravel the Dark’s status quo. And even he had been driven not out of some selfless desire, but instead that of the desperate, wanting his daughter safe and out of the Dark One’s reach forever. If not for her, if not for Alice, maybe even the pirate would have remained content with the price the world had been made to pay over and over again. In that too, he was left unworthy, so different and dirty when compared to the shining purity of the princess. The belief that had driven her marked Emma of Mist Haven as strong and determined and brave, discarding all that had been done to shelter her, to make a valiant if foolish attempt to stand down the monster.
She really had ALL the makings of a hero, right down to that streak of impulsive recklessness that often saw most dead. She fought through that fate, and against everything else, defying all the plans that had been made, the safeguards put in place for her own protection, and even that of the Goddess housed within her. She was remarkable in this world of the desperate, this one bright beacon of hope, she was entirely something to be cherished and guided, and ultimately groomed into her role of Savior.
Not versed enough in the HOW of accomplishing such a thing, and with time of such an essence that the pirate again struggled with his own feelings of despair resurfacing, Killian hadn’t yet made the attempt to truly talk to her. Not even to address her sharp taunt of a question, the answering reply apt to prove essential to how things ultimately shaped up between them, a destiny needing to be fulfilled. There was a choice there too, a chance to be selfish, survival trumping sacrifice, and he just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t give up the world for her pity, no matter how much he might burn with the need to establish to someone, to her in particular, that he and the Dark One were NOT one and the same.
Unable to bring himself to do that, Killian found himself equally tongue tied when it came to the thought of lying to her. It and the thought of actively carrying on such a charade, of speaking and acting in mimic of the monster, actually made him feel ill, the pirate sickened at the thought of such a pervasive menace being maintained by HIM. He could not voice such threats, could not bring himself to hurt her in truth, even to perpetuate such a deception, the Dark so able and willing to hurt her in full, that the best Killian could offer her was a respite from the worst of it. He’d give her this time, holding back the Dark as best he could, while letting Emma of Mist Haven believe what she wanted of him. The truth withheld in that way, it was a deceit all the same, one based on silence and misconceptions, and it was the Light who flickered in alarm, her voice a faint but plaintive cry that again demanded Killian hold accountable to just what he was doing and why.
The Goddess was effectively drowned out by Emma’s own anger, the princess’s voice snapping out strong and demanding. “ANSWER ME!”
For a moment longer, he just stared, seeing that amid all that bold anger was also an anxiety, slivers of it interwoven into the bravado and bluster that her fury gave her. She couldn’t quite see him, her eyes not adjusted to the dim lighting that the fires provided, nor was her sight in anyway aided by the Light. Interesting that, Killian supposing the magics that had meant to hide her, had also sealed off much of her influence from the princess, leaving Emma of Mist Haven to flounder in the forest, all but blind to everything but the shadowy figure standing over her.
It had to be so frightening for her, both the unknown and that of what had already been done. He wanted to spill forth with reassurances as best he could, but such attempts at comfort were so unlike that of the Dark One, that menace more apt to get off on the princess’ fear. The pirate couldn’t maintain the charade and terrorize her, his deception such a fragile thing at best, so little that Killian was willing to tolerate, to stomach, the man slowly crouching down on one knee, so as to be eye level with her. She inhaled a sharp gasp at that, but otherwise held still, her back rigid with that defiance interwoven through her.
“I...” His voice faltered, the pirate so unused to speaking after centuries of being alone with nothing but the Dark One to converse with. That sound from him was so hoarse and made gravelly from such disuse, his once smooth baritone and accent was lost to something that sounded more like the growling purrs and rumbling undertones of the monster, that he could barely recognize it as a part of him, Killian having to swallow and think before again attempting to say something to her. He was so out of practice at the simplest of things, and pleasant chit chat was not something that would ultimately help Emma of Mist Haven.
“I am just wondering WHY you would choose to come here…” He said at last, wanting to understand, but also thinking he saw a path on which to steer her towards. A roundabout way to drip the truths she was missing, the sparks of ideas that might help Emma figure out what was needed, the special destiny that had been allocated her, so that maybe, just maybe, they’d both figure out what could be ultimately done, the power inside her, that magic, needing to be freed and unleashed.
“Are you meaning because it was not yet time for your monthly tribute!?” Was her scoffing reply. Emma of Mist Haven arching a golden brown in mocking challenge. She could not truly see him, but he could see her, every perfect detail lit by that bright being within her, the princess bathed by a light like no other in this world.
“No, no that.” He demurred in still so gravelly a tone.
“If not that, then what!?” She demanded, her tone almost shrill then.
“Because you come to me nowhere near ready.” A sliver of a hint then, though of course it wouldn’t be this easy for her to catch on in full.
“Nowhere near ready?” She echoed with her disbelief. “I am more than of age, and am far more prepared to do what I must, to end your threat once and for all!”
“Age aside, how do you think to do that, when you haven’t the wisdom or experience to accomplish such a feat?” Killian’s tone, while so low, was still so reasonable sounding a growl.
Her expression was in no way a glimmer of the dazzling smile she might one day be capable of, Emma of Mist Haven’s lips twisting in what could only be described as a triumphant smirk. “Ah but your words betray you AGAIN. This is not the first that you’ve made mention that the likes of you CAN be ended.”
It wouldn’t be the last time either, the pirate intending to strongly foster such a hope inside of the princess, reinforcing in what ways he could, that there was a way for the Darkness to be killed, even if neither of them had any idea yet on how such a thing could be done in truth. So long as it got the gears turning, that bright and determined mind of hers working with his experience to hopefully puzzle out the key.
“Ah but how are you hoping to do such a thing, when nothing made by mortal hands can come close to hurting me?”
“They hurt you.” She insisted. “You cried out in pain, why you even bled. I felt that rock made slippery with your body’s gore.”
“I also HEALED.” He pointed out. “Within SECONDS.”
She frowned then, Emma of Mist Haven worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. He felt the Darkness’ interest stir at that, its attention drawn to so provoking a sight, the lust it felt unsettling to the pirate, the man trying to look anywhere but directly at Emma and the Light within. She couldn’t afford it, none of them could, its wicked desires lending such strength to it, that even Killian might not be able to hold back the monster from letting loose.
She’d already be trembling, if the princess had been able to see clearly in truth, the Darkness starting to slip into the bold blue of Killian’s eyes. In this, the disadvantage of the shadowy forest was in fact a boon, Emma of Mist Haven not aware of how much closer to danger she again skirted in truth, the Dark present and leering. She was left ignorant in a way that the Light was not, the Goddess inside her dimming, as though flinching, or hiding what had already been caught, that ephemeral essence no longer something that could avoid the Dark in full. And in trying to remain unseen, it only fueled the beast more, an anger spiking within it, and the thought of again being denied by her.
It was all so utterly distracting and infuriating, Killian for all his worry, also made annoyed now. He could sympathize with the Goddess, but not forgive her for making the situation worse, both females in ever present danger, and the pirate wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stand against the anger that was a hot torrent inside him.
“STOP THAT!” He snarled, and it was both the Goddess and the Dark he shouted that to, though Emma of Mist Haven was the one who gasped and flinched in response.
“Stop WHAT!?” It was a confused utterance, a demand for a clarification Killian could in no way give. At least not in the moment, having his own battle to deal with, the Light still shrinking back in a way that made the Dark growl over such an insult. He wasn’t privy to the full scope of its thoughts, but the man could also hear its voice, the threats and accusations, the sheer menace of the things it snarled to the Light within Emma. The Goddess, whose continue attempt at silence, only seemed to enrage the beast further, and the monster was trying to reach for HER, the pirate’s arms shaking. Both of them, the struggle so real and so hard, and he was LOSING before it, the Dark One’s strength such, that the man was outclassed and outright laughed at for having thought he stood any real chance against it.
He was the one screaming then, wanting to warn her, but not knowing HOW to. All advice fell to the way side of foolish, any resistance only apt to enrage it further, or even excite it, the Darkness always one that thrilled to the chase. To the hunt, and what resulted, no prey more lush and tempting to corner than that of its Goddess, the Dark ever demanding and desiring of the Light, and it was made all the worst now that they BOTH had the physical bodies for which to act upon.
Wanting to spare her, spare them both such a fate, Killian screamed and fought against the Dark, but his arms were a moving. He tried to scramble back, only to have the Dark lunge forth in his body, fingers closing around the sleeve over the princess’s arm. She startled then, a high pitched shriek rousing further the predator already in pursuit, though it was not Emma of Mist Haven that the monster was focused on in truth. He barely seemed to SEE her, too caught in that snarling fit of rage, that level of fury mounting as he pulled the Light and her host off balance. THEY fell into it, into the body the Dark One possessed, and there was a loud hiss of sound, the princess having placed her free hand on its chest, trying to push free of that which refused to be denied.
Cold though she was, there was also a heat in her skin, a warmth that had nothing to do with the fires that the pirate had built and lit, and everything to do with the Goddess inside. It was her power, sealed as it still was, that burned from within, the Light’s magic still a blade whose edge was so dull from disuse, that save for the tingle of it, there was no other affect at all. A spark born of her fear, those wild emotions inside her, the Goddess made ill and uneasy with just a look from her dark counterpart, that his touch had caused her to lash out. She couldn’t master the reaction, her soul itself crawling with disgust, the body that housed her trembling with both the Light and with Emma of Mist Haven’s response, such hate and such loathing swallowed up by the apprehension, the memories of what had already been done.
Terrified that it was all about to be repeated, there was no comfort to be had, the Darkness holding them tight to him, the man inside him nothing more than an annoying gnat to be swatted away, despite Killian’s best efforts. He could hear the monster laugh at him, but more so, the pirate was made chilled, blanching white as the women were hauled up on tip toe, to meet the brush of the beast’s lips. It wasn’t an outright kiss though, the Dark instead seeming to relish the contact, as it growled a no less ominous sounding demand.
“It is time you and I TALK.”
To Be Continued…
I like this chapter, except for near the ending. Just hate ending on a spoken line, but honestly, anything written after, would end up extending the chapter to be even longer, and was hoping to start nine and this talk from the Darkness POV...although also frustrated cause all the characters seemed determined to knock my plans aside and do their own things. Killian and Emma were meant to talk more, hell I had originally imagined nine starts with the Darkness narrating, but still sitting back, just watching Killian interact with her and the light till like mid chapter…and THEN take over the body.
For that matter, originally, I had wanted to get SEVEN written to the point Emma realizes Killian is different from the Dark One...but realized it is gonna take a lot more than one lousy conversation for her to catch on. I don’t mind that….and the story is still on track for the ending I have planned, there is just set backs and new developments, and a whole lotta realizations I have been having as I work on this. My note file keeps expanding as a result, and the fic just ends up being longer and longer by the second...Which I don’t necessarily mind, and those realizations are usually smart ones, that make the fic better, and make me realize I was rushing certain things in my head, that would have been a detriment to the over all fic...slow and steady wins the race, especially true with writing!
Quite a few things happened in just the three or so weeks since last chapter. Crazy and stressful stuff in real life. I am amazed it didnt all completely derail me from writing! Though I am also glad I got this finished before Feb 1st, as that is when the doctor is going over my MRI results for my fractured foot. So nervous on that front too….
Happy reading!
Michelle