Shadowbound
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Zelda. I own the original characters, some of the concepts, and the bag of Goldfish crackers by my keyboard. That's about it. Savvy?
Prologue - Baptism By Blood
Voices ebbed around the man. He gazed up into the bright moonlight above, unable to focus or think. Thundering footsteps rang in his ears, and on instinct, he began to tug at the straps that bound him to the bloodstained slab of rock. The smell of death and decay made him want to wretch. Beyond the hazy shadows of men and monsters that danced in his vision, a dark, feminine figure approached.
The voices grew louder. In the corner of his eye, beyond the ring of candles that surrounded him, he saw the torn, ragged remains of Hyrulean tabards—the very same kind he wore. He looked up into the blurry, clouded silhouette of a horned figure. His heart pounded in his chest. The chanting grew louder. Roars and inhuman screeches soon followed. Red eyes peered out at him from the darkness.
Sounds of pages turning and energy humming pierced his senses. The silhouette held up a staff. A book, covered in purple arcane runes, floated in the air. A vortex of darkness formed in the being's hand. It compressed and collapsed on itself, while a wriggling, writhing mass of ink-like liquid took shape. The man closed his eyes and thrashed, drowning out the hallucinations that assaulted him.
Faces of his squadmates, his fellow captives, flashed in his mind. Their screams, followed by inhuman roars into the night, followed. Like ghastly phantoms, their Hylian forms melted away, replaced by unspeakable horrors from the shadows. Red eyes peered at him from all directions, while sharp, dagger-like teeth salivated in anticipation. The man squinted his eyes, his frayed mind fighting the intoxicants that flowed through his body.
He opened his eyes, and the silhouette's hand glowed purple. With widened eyes, he watched the silhouette shove the mass of darkness into his chest. The man choked, unable to breathe. When the silhouette removed its hand from his body, the man screamed in pain. He squirmed on the slab, squeezing his eyes shut and howling in agony. Within him, the darkness surged through him, snaking and branching throughout his body. Skin, hair, clothing, and armor became corrupted by the force that threatened to consume him.
With inhuman strength, the man-turned-shadow pulled and snapped away the cords. Fingers shifted into dagger-like claws. Fangs gleamed in his mouth, and the shadow salivated with a newfound thirst. Awed voices of satisfaction turned to shrill screams of horror as the shadow opened his eyes. Glowing crimson irises and dark sclerae, set against a pitch black face, peered back at them with unbridled rage. The shadow roared and leapt at the robed men and women around him.
Blood flew through the air. The shadow sank his fangs into warm flesh, and drank the life out of his victim. A woman's commanding voice rang from the silhouette. Dark wisps of energy whirled around the figure, taking the form of fanged, bloodthirsty monsters. An inhuman shriek escaped the shadow's bloody lips. He dropped his hapless victim to the ground. The shadow stared at the four-legged creatures in front of him, bearing his fangs at his brethren. The monsters leapt at the shadow.
As if by instinct, the shadow dissolved into an inky-black puddle of darkness. The monsters crashed into the wall, their bodies exploding into splatters of black on the stone walls. On the floor, the shadow gained mass, and resumed human shape. Ink ran along the ground, and the monsters reformed afterward. Deep within the shadow, the man screamed. The shadow stumbled backwards and clutched his head. Crimson eyes turned to gold. Candles fell to the ground, and fire engulfed the chamber.
Rocks tumbled at the shadow's feet. He stepped closer and closer behind the slab, human will and demonic instinct at war. Teetering on the edge of the cliff behind the bloodied slab, the shadow lost his balance. With a shrill cry, the shadow plummeted into the wasteland beyond...