Disclaimer: The only thing I own is a copy of Tin Man (finally!) that I got a JB-HiFi last weekend. Well, that and my plot, so no stealing or borrowing without asking. And if I copied someone else's idea, contact me and we can compare notes.

Summery: For two years DG has battled against politics, assassination attempts and a nightmare of a terrifying future. She is alone in an alien world not her own and jaded by events of her own making. Will she fall into the darkness that wants her so badly, or can she resist and become the saviour she was made out to be against the Witch?

A/N: This is my first Tin Man fic, so please, be gentle. The time-line of the fic is set two years after the Eclipse events which also takes into account some of the things that the Witch said in the cave to the girls. Pairings will come later. With that being said, this Prologue is trippy. So, without further ado…

xXxXx

Call of Darkness

Prologue: Snakeskin

xXxXx

Like a cobra ready to strike, she felt the cold tendril of power slither ever so slowly towards her, swaying like a metronome in the stillness that surrounded her. She could taste the fruit of bloodthirsty victory on her tongue as she breathed through her mouth, trying in vain to ignore the sharp smell of iron and copper in her nostrils.

The darkness enticed her.

All she had to do was reach out, allow the power to coil around her hand and feel the rush that was by birthright hers… it would have been as easy as breathing.

'Just imagine all of those that oppose you, crumbling to their knees at your feet while you destroy their very lives!' he hissed in her ear and she couldn't help but growl.

"And you can just imagine my answer." Came her whispered reply, turning her back to him and staring off into the pitch darkness that surrounded the two of them.

The coil – invisible to the naked eye but tangible to anything with magic in their veins – reared back, fury emanating from it as both it and the man behind her were rejected once more. She stood her ground nonetheless, bored of the Pretenders antics to try and sway her to do his bidding – to succumb to the Call of Darkness that had been reaching out to her ever since she had returned to the Outer Zone.

'You will fail! Your Light is waning and just as the House of Gayle, it will perish!' the Pretender roared. 'Mark my words, Dorothy-Gail, it is only a matter of time before the bonds to your Mother are severed, and when that happens, there will be no one in the entirety of the OZ to save you.'

DG turned to face him, matching his glare with one of her own. "For two years you have been telling me the same things, and for two years my answers have been the same. It started to irk me ages ago, but what really pisses me off is the fact that you wear the faces of all my friends and family… so why?" she ordered, wrapping her Light around herself to keep the Dark at bay. "Why do you settle on Cain's face more than the others when you know that I'll never accept? Either it's a stupid plan, or you are just really thick!"

The Pretender sneered at her, his face contorting so horribly that she barely recognised the clean-shaven face of Wyatt Cain. "Because I know how much of a temptation the Tin Man is for you."

A sarcastic grin worked itself to DG's face and she let out a short laugh. "As it goes, I wouldn't be joining you even if you held up a sign saying : 'come to the dark-side, we have cookies'!"

The Look-a-Like scowled, folding arms over his vest-covered chest. 'Even so, Dorothy-Gail, your freedom is coming to an end.' His black eyes – the only part of him that didn't look like Cain – bored deep into her soul. 'Mark these words, this illusion of peace and Light that you try so hard to reinforce are failing miserably. Every day my army's prison weakens as I grow stronger.'

"Oh no!" she muttered sarcastically, "Time is running out! The apocalypse is coming and Timmy is stuck down the well." She was sick of his nightly diatribes.

The coil of darkness that DG had nearly forgotten about, wrapped around her neck suddenly, chocking her slowly regardless of the fact that her Light was still protecting her. Her blue eyes widened when she started to feel that light start to splutter and break, sending a spider-web of cracks through her magic. Shocks of darkness pierced her from between the holes in her shield. "How…?" she gasped, a silent scream stuck in her throat as her only protection snapped against the dark power of the Pretender.

'As I told you before, I grow stronger with every day that passes. This is my good-bye present to you, Dorothy-Gail, let it remind you of the power that I could give you.' His cold, black eyes gleamed in satisfaction as DG finally screamed.

--

xXxXx

--

Blood dripped down her finger, a stark contrast to the white linen cloth that covered the table in front of her. The rose in her right hand was forgotten as she stared at the swelling droplets of crimson, memories that were both hers and yet not, surfacing to the forefront of her mind.

Shaking her head to dismiss the intrusive thoughts, Azkadellia frowned before bringing her finger up to her mouth and gently licking off the life-blood from her small wound.

The flower arrangement on the table in front of her was quickly forgotten in light of recent events that she was specially attuned to.

Lurline would never know until too late… Or never at all.

The flare of darkness had caught her unawares, thus resulting in her injury, but Azkadellia would rather have been injured, than be caught up in the familiar euphoria that the Darkness still created within her. After virtually growing up and thriving off of the dark powers of the Witch, she had – at first – felt bereft of the Witch's magic's, but quickly learnt to shun the feeling and turn her back on anything to do with the supernatural.

That included her family.

But to turn her back on this… she couldn't do that, especially when she knew the things that she did. Now that He had obviously found the key to his prison, Azkadellia had to come out of her hiding place and face the Darkness once again.

And that revelation made her want to cry.

If He was gaining power after two millennia of imprisonment… she shuddered to think. If Azkadellia were anything like her sister, she'd most likely huff and scream and throw something.

As it stood, Azkadellia was not her sister, but her own corrupted person that really wanted to break something… Or kill it.

"Oops," she mumbled darkly, dismissing her last thought and letting the rose in her hand fall to the ground. Wordlessly, she reached out with her injured hand and pushed the vase over. She watched as it fell and shattered into millions of crystalline pieces, indifferent to the mess she had made.

But she was satisfied by the destruction she had caused nonetheless.