Warnings: Blood, voodoo ritual mentions, gore mentions, pain/sensation ‘play’ mentions
Summary: At a time where the number of Voodoo Dolls is representative of one's power. Hongbin is the 6th Voodoo Doll conjured by a young priestess. He was sent by a powerful deity to keep watch over her. That’s fine until he decides he wants her power.. and her whole existence for himself.
Note: loa/lwa - the name for the patron spirits/deities of voodoo
Baron Samedi- The loa of the dead [think similar to Hades]
Ayan LaRoche - Voodoo Priestess OC
Ayan was born and raised in the bayou of Louisiana. The dialogue will reflect some 'twang' and spatterings of Creole dialect.
Even though this is for the VIXX Parallel Collaboration, I may continue this as a series.
What rotten luck was this?!
Hongbin grunted as life, or something like it, suffused into his body. He could feel the ligaments moving as his fingers wiggled in the air. The disdain on his face at the sight of himself was hard to hide. He wobbled like a puppet on a string dangling from a great height.
The substance that ran through his veins slowed as he heard the echo of footsteps. His lip stayed lifted in a half snarl. The guttural sound vibrated against his vocal cords. The push of tension caused his biceps to flex, almost violently, against his shirt.
That was until he saw who was walking toward him.
The shadow of a tophat, the scent of a cigar, and the pasty white painted skull over a brown-skinned face.
He wanted to disappear; to become so small and insignificant that he could forget the sight in front of him.
Every every poppet knew for whom and what purpose they had been created. It was rare that one of the loa bothered. Let alone the Lord of the Dead himself.
"Ah, I see you awake now." The loa smirked at Hongbin's sudden shrink in attitude and demeanor. "Dat's good, dat's good. Nah, I know you might be havin' a question or two 'bout why you here." There was a thick cloud of smoke that lifted from the deity's nostrils.
The smile on Baron Samedi's face gave Hongbin a cold chill. "I need you do sumthin' fah me." The taller man tugged at the bindings holding the voodoo doll aloft.
"I need you to keep an eye on someone fa' me. You see, dis girl? She special. I like her. She gotta lot of learnin' for she can be a power to be reckoned with." Baron Samedi stopped to level a dark umber gaze on Hongbin.
"You need'ta keep the unsavory 'way from her, ya'hear?" The sudden baritone of the deity's voice caused Hongbin's knees to buckle. The overwhelming power filled the room, leaving him only able to nod with wide eyes.
"Good, good. No one gets near her, Hongbin. Do we understand each otha'?" Hongbin nodded vigorously as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The loa smirked while picking an object from a nearby table. He turned toward the dangling puppet with a particular glee dancing in his eyes.
He knew what was coming before Baron Samedi reached him. He could see the sharply jagged edge on the ice pick. His lips flattened into a straight line as he steeled himself for the onslaught.
The pain never bothered him at first. The first initial puncture, scratch, or gouge was nothing at this point. It was the speed of delivery that always killed him. Some of the priests or priestesses were quick with their work. It prevented the pain from building in the doll.
It always made it easier to cause the maximum amount of pain to their intended victim.
But some caused pain to the doll and the victim. They said it was probably as close to watching the deed from far away. It wasn't that way with the loa, unfortunately.
They gave pain, relished in the suffering, and needed the experimentation to learn about humanity.
Samedi was twisted, perverted, and sadistic. This was nothing more than entertainment for him. This was also an early lesson. That he wanted what he wanted.
.....and that he wouldn't accept failure.
Others.
There were never others.
At least not in his time in service, had he seen others. Hongbin heard about those that had been able to conjure more than one doll. There was a time, long ago, when someone had three. That woman was descended from a strong line - the first line. She was a descendant of the one who started everything that would be Voodoo. That woman had children but then moved to Haiti.
Removing herself and her kin from Louisiana due to the state that the art had devolved. It was considered hoodoo, entertainment, and a child's play. That woman returned sometime later with her children in tow.
She had risen in her craft to take on the title of Mambo. The highest and most important places a person can reach. Her children were exceptional, as well. A son, musically gifted, and in tune with nature. A daughter with a wicked streak and a penchant for darker dealings.
He only knew of the woman by one name - The Black Mamba. To the public, though, she was Mambo LaRoche. A formidable woman of high power who understood the balance between the light and dark elements of the craft.
The community was devastated when Hurricane Katrina stole her away from them.
It stole all but one.
“Wake up.” A lilting purr slithered across the shell of his ear. Hongbin stirred with the sensation of cold metal against his back. The air was thick with incense, blood, and magic. An echo of laughter, drums, and the rush of power caused his heart to beat fast.
“Come on now. You can do it.” There was the scent of lilies in the air, causing his head to sway in its direction. A delicate finger trailed down the center of his bare chest. He twitched as the finger trailed a muscle at the dip in his groin.
His lips parted on a soft moan. Samedi beat him until he lost consciousness, only for him to wake up to this? He could feel lips soft along his jaw. She spoke to him in a language once thought long dead. It was so beautiful, it seemed to dance across his skin.
The scent of blood filled his nostrils, his mouth watered, his body reacted violently. His eyes snapped open as a shadow hovered over him. "Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.
"Well, well. Look who decided to finally wake up." Her lips curved into a smile as she tucked her fingers under her chin. "Th'names Ayan. Ayan LaRoche, enchanté ."
The blue-eyed Creole stood, as regal as queen, with her hands clasped in front of her. The heavy pressure seemed to evaporate at that moment. Hongbin could feel beads of sweat sliding down the sides of his face.
A thick swallow as she crouched above him. The whisper of thin linen against his skin caused him to moan. He could see the moonlit silhouette of her body through the gauzy material. The uptick of her breast and the prominent push of her nipples. She brought his hands to the wide expanse of her hips.
Arousal.
Instant. Obvious. Painful.
He could feel the power radiating off her skin. The surge of it pulsed under his fingertips. The warm slide of her fingers against the throb of his erection caused him to moan. His fingers dug deep into her flesh as she settled over him. Every vein in his body seemed prominent as she swiveled her hips.
Bloodied hands pressed against his chest as she moved, chanting. The moonlight seemed to spotlight the sealing ritual. Her feet dug into the ground as her voice crescendoed. Hongbin remembered, suddenly, a warning. He remembered the threat beaten into his flesh.
But as her body tugged and molded around him? He forgot about it. He forgot all of it. She connected to a wealth of power long left untouched within him. He could feel her peel back the layers of his spiritual reserves. Their bodies and spirits thumped against each other, seemingly to no end.
Before he knew it? He had rolled them, anchoring her upper half to the ground. She let out a shrill sound that made his stomach knot. He didn’t care about the gore covering her fingers. He kept chasing the link, the thing that sealed Doll to Practitioner.
“R-right...there.” She gasped. The warm honey of her voice vibrated in the air as he held her hips upward. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as she dissolved into orgasm. He tilted his head as he met the pure white, then suddenly golden tone in her eyes.
His brow furrowed as her body seemed to pull all of him inside of her. He lurched as his own orgasm gave chase.
Hongbin felt it at that moment - there was no bottom. She had reached all the way inside of him, farther than anyone before. Yet, he couldn’t find her. Like there was no end to her.
"Welcome to the family, sug'." Her voice was like warm honey. Rich, silky, and sweet - strangely no different from her singing to her speaking. Ayan's gaze lifted toward the face of her newest doll.
Six.
There were never others.
The most that there had ever been was three.
He was now one of six.
Samedi, what have you gotten me into? Who is this woman?
Everything seemed to get warmer, fuzzy - the air was so sweet? He wavered as he looked down at the woman smiling up at him. But it was a different voice that he heard.
"You need to wake up, little brother." A soothing, melodic voice chided. The night seemed to fizzle away as the voice continued, beckoned him to wake up.
Wait a minute?
Wake up?
Didn't he do that already?
"Time to wake up, little brother." Hakyeon's voice was so damned soothing.
"What happened? I - I was up already?" The confusion was thick in his voice. His mouth was so dry as if he hadn't spoken more than a few days.
"Shhh." Hakyeon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You'll get sick if you're not careful." Hongbin shrugged him off with a growl.
"What are you talking about? I'm fine! There's no way that I could get -" He was too panicked to notice it at first. He had been so busy trying to find the wounds that plagued him not too long ago. The burning sensation crept along the surface of his skin.
From the feet to his knees, he thought it was just from movement. From his knees to his hips, he felt it was his body finally moving. The sensation crept up his torso, to his neck, and then it was behind his eyes.
Then it filled his head as the sound of a scream filled his ears. Oh, it was his scream. It had been a while since he had made a sound like this. The power overwhelmed him as he clawed at his skull.
The connection. The link. The establishment of the thread that binds the voodoo doll to its owner. It washed over him like a tidal wave. He saw visions, clipped projections of memories from the other five. Hakyeon sighed slowly, waiting for Hongbin to calm himself down.
It took him five minutes to regain his composure - it never took that long. He turned to the side and was violently sick when it was over.
"Good, she's ready for you now." The older doll smiled, pleased even, as he turned to depart. "There are fresh clothes in the bathroom. Make yourself presentable and then take the path to the house. Don't keep her waiting."
He moved from the bed in a rush to the bathroom. They may have been 'dolls' in a sense, but their forms still required the typical maintenance. Bathing was essential and enjoyable - a luxury even.
The hot water over his skin eased the tension from his muscles. He rotated his joints under the hot spray. He would have to ask how long he was asleep. He grits his teeth as he hurriedly washed and dressed.
He had already kept her waiting. "Tsk." Hongbin was dressed in a sweater, slacks, and shoes too shiny to have ever seen a speck of dirt. He admired his reflection in the mirror before leaving their space.
There was a path of carefully laid gravel. The crunch of his shoes on the ground was the only noise in the area. The moon was full, bright, and beautiful in the Louisiana sky. He spotted a set of double French doors open wide toward a parlor decorated in ornate Victorian style.
His steps were quiet as he entered the parlor. His fingers were a whisper over the costly, ornate wooden backs of couches and chairs. He heard the sound of singing? Or was it humming? It was close.
He felt his heart quicken as he entered the open space of the dining room. His brow furrowed as he followed the song through the house. The click of his heels against an old hardwood floor almost tapped in time with the voice. He was panting and didn't understand why.
This home was ridiculously large for no reason! Where was that sound?! By the time he realized he was on the other side of the house. Another set of french doors opened toward the courtyard that dazzled with white roses. He stood in the doorway; his eyes pinned to the back of an ornate wingback chair.
The voice stopped, suddenly, as his footsteps announced his presence.
Laughter. A throaty, warm, laugh that sent prickles across his skin. He saw the delicate shine of polish on her fingers. He was almost afraid to get a full look at her.
"Come closer, suga'." He did as he was instructed. He moved in front of the shadowed space. The clouds began to break as he noticed an odd gleam coming from her face.
"Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.
A long, massive, moment of silence stretched for what seemed an eternity between them. Hongbin still had her hand in his own, the delicate knuckle adorned with crystal-studded rings.
His grip tightened, a reflex, as he couldn't keep himself quiet. "You're the most powerful witch in all of Louisiana."
She tilted her head with an amused smile as his lips brushed against her knuckles. There was a sudden pull in her lower half that caused breath to slither from her mouth.
Hongbin’s gaze rose to hers as the corner of his mouth lifted.
