A/N: Okay, this is my second fanfic. Not entirely sure if people liked my first one; I think I'll finish that one off pretty quickly instead of having it how I planned with movie dialogue and taking place within the films. I think two chapters at most for that and they'll be uploaded very gradually because of college (UK; college is not university – they're very different things), coursework, uni applications, etc and of course, my writing outside of this. Should I ever have the ability to force myself to write and edit again; I have long periods of do-nothing then periods of doing things… Got to stop that!
Sorry, I'm rambling on. This is a slightly AU fanfiction, I'm changing part of Bloom's background and also Darkar's appearance (I always see Ian Somerholder as him for some reason, so that is what he'll look like). So the prologue was written months ago for a manuscript that I've currently got side-lined, hence why I'm changing Bloom's transformation and please don't ask what the dark language is, it was months ago so I can't remember.
The last part of this author's note I'll mention some pieces that inspired me to write this. First thing is the film City of God (which is one of the films that I'm studying in A2 Film) – it's horrific and disturbing but also a true story, the song included in this fanfiction, and also Midnight Lost's 'Heart of Darkness' fanfiction as well as the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
So on with the story.
Prologue: One Month Ago
Lord Darkar watched the woman in front of him. He observed her calmly. She was a sickly thin woman, her hair matted over her pale, stark face. She couldn't have been more than thirty, at maximum. But here she was; chained to the black stone wall with her clothes in tatters, clothes that were decorated by her own blood. She was crying, had been for hours. She was begging for freedom. No, this little bitch owed him a debt and he planned to get paid. He twirled the knife into between his fingers and bent down to her eye line.
"Please." She begged hysterically, tears still streaming. "Please, just let me go."
He ran the fingers of his empty hand across the woman's cheek. She continued crying and begging. He pressed a pale finger to her trembling lips in an effort to make her shut the fuck up. She did. He moved his finger to continue stroking her cheek.
"I'm sorry." He cooed softly. "But you will pay your debts, sweetheart and you'll pay in blood."
The woman started to cry and beg again. "Please, please…"
He jabbed the knife into the woman's bare shoulder and pulled it back out. He stared at the blood covering the blade. Raising it to his lips, he pressed his tongue against the knife and licked. It was so dark, so rich - tasted so good and it was hot. The wonderful taste of hot copper burned his throat as it rushed through him. Fuck. Darkar closed his eyes in bliss before slowly opening them again, once the blood was gone. Such a shame.
He raised the knife again, cutting her throat this time. Hot blood gushed out from the deep wound like a waterfall. She tried to move and scream. She only caused herself bleed more. He grinned to himself. Feeding time.
Tendrils of darkness lapped up the blood. They grew darker and darker. Darkar watched them with a malicious mix of eagerness and hunger, some part of him wishing that it was him lapping up all that hot, dark scarlet blood but now was not the time. He had to control himself. It didn't take long for the Shadows finish feeding. He stood and looked at the woman's body. She was pretty, she would have made a good pet and her blood had been delicious but that didn't matter anymore. Her debt was paid, the Shadows strengthened and now it was time for the last phase of the plan.
He walked out of the dungeons, through a hallway and took a cut-through across his throne room. The room he entered was small. Four large fire stands lit with black flames and biolumscient quartz crystals were the only light sources. In the centre of the room was an ornate stone table and laid on that table was the key to all of this. Bloom. She struggled against the restraints, oblivious to him. He let his eyes wonder over her.
She was a thin and pale girl with the figure somewhat similar to a pre-teen boy although she wasn't flat-chested. Her hair was red, fiery – just like her, and the bright blue of her eyes in her round face complimented by the light dusting of freckles of across her nose. Darkar loved the somewhat cat-like shape to her eyes. It suited her personality; tough, like a wild cat kept in a cage for so long that it forgot about the outside world.
Bloom wasn't a short girl, he'd assumed that she was shorter than her 5'6 height and he'd had to get a longer table to tie her to. Darkar was ashamed that he'd had to put poor Bloom in the dungeon but she wasn't here willingly. He had to remind himself of that. He stepped closer to her and reached out. He caressed her pale cheek. She flinched and turned her head away.
He sighed and moved his hand.
"You know what has to happen, right my dear?" Darkar asked softly as he watched her turn her head again. Fury burned in her eyes.
"Don't call me that! Ever!"
"That's all I had to do to get you to talk?" He questioned in an amused tone. "Are you going to answer my first question?"
"Yes. It doesn't have to happen! Please just let me go."
She began to fight at the restraints again. Darkar sighed and walked around the table. He placed his hands on her skinny shoulders and bent down, placing his lips next to her ear.
"Why does everyone think I'll be merciful if they beg?" He asked, letting his breath tickle her ear. He watched as Bloom closed her eyes gently and suppressed a groan. The emotions flickered across her face and changed as he saw her fight her natural instincts and the attraction that came with them. He grinned to himself.
"I'm a monster, my dear Bloom. And I'll tell you why. I revel in my killing, I love the feeling of watching the light leave someone's eyes. I make people my personal playthings, I'm a sadistic and dangerous man."
Darkar ran a finger over the outer shell of her ear and watched her reaction. If only the past hadn't happened… "But, I'll never be that way with you, my dear. No matter what happens in the next few hours."
"I'm not going to turn, Darkar! I'm not."
He chuckled. "You think I don't know about your little internal struggle that you've being having for the past two years? The struggle to not give into your instincts?"
Her furious eyes became closed off.
"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."
"We'll see. You see, it's impossible for any person to be one hundred percent innocent unless you're a newborn or you're a tabula rasa, a blank slate. Therefore, I can turn and corrupt any person including and especially you." He told her before pulling the crystal shard out of his pocket. He stood up straight and held the shard at his eye level.
"Tenebrasama offunduntati, angustosti luxva dela omnibusiti, tuumje naturalemne tènebrisne. " He whispered the mingled mix of Latin and Croatian. The most powerful and the original language of black magic. Darkar brought his other hand to the bottom of the crystal. Crackling black flames burst to life in his palm. He burnt the crystal.
Thick, black smoke rose and the thick shadows around the room began to move again. The tendrils danced in excitement. The smoke slithered down to Bloom, her lips pressed together so tightly they were white. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her body seizing. She gripped the table so hard, her knuckles were as white as her lips.
The smoke reacted violently to being denied entrance. The smoke became darker, it hissed and swirled before prying Bloom's mouth open, forcing itself into her mouth and nostrils. The crystal was gone, the candles were rather suddenly blown out by an invisible force. The light of the crystals flickered. Her eyes flickered open. Pure black eyes stared. The colour faded, her eyes the same beautiful blue once more. Her lips stretched into a peaceful smile.
"Bloom…" He breathed.
"My lord?" She replied.
Chapter One
'It's just that this, this is not the way I'm wired
So could you please,
Help me understand why
You've given in to all these
Reckless dark desires
You're lying to yourself again'
The Outsider by A Perfect Circle (Apocalypse Remix)
Bloom's head was pressed against a textbook. Her eyes were too heavy and she was just so tired. Maybe just five minutes?
THUNK.
She jumped awake, eyes wide. She looked around wildly. The source of the noise was three large and heavy textbooks, dropped by none other than Stella. Her best friend had a huge beam on her face as she dropped into the library chair next to her and propped her feet on the tabletop.
Bloom flicked her eyes over Stella, surpressing a meagre amount of jealousy. Stella was a 5'11 Barbie with her blonde hair, tanned skin and athletic figure. Not to mention the big brown eyes.
"You alright?" Stella asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I?" Bloom questioned in reply.
"I thought that after last month…" She trailed off.
"Exactly, Stel. It was a month ago."
"You still don't remember anything?" She pressed, putting her hand on top of Bloom's. Her eyes flicked upwards into the blonde girl's concerned eyes. She shook her head and propped her head up on her knuckles.
"Think it's PSTD." The fire fairy told Stella, who frowned.
"Maybe-maybe it's for the best, right? You might not be able to remember for a reason! I mean, it was traumatic so of course you can't remember! Who knows what Darkar did to you? Well, you and him. He's dead and you… Blank slate when it comes to that day." The blonde haired princess chattered away. Bloom smiled to herself, it seemed like things were getting back to normal. Or at least, Stella was – talking non-stop for hours on end.
She grabbed the nearest textbook, A Brief History of Magic, and opened it to a random page. The Origins of Dark Magic. Of course. She sighed and skim-read the text, not really focusing on the pictures until one particular photograph caught her attention.
It had been taken in the middle of a dark ritual. The pale woman in the centre of the inverted pentagram was stripped down to her underwear, the man was in the middle of passing a bloodied black crystal knife to her. The woman had a long crimson cut along her stomach. Lit black candles, blood and bone altar. Dark shadow tendrils. A feeling of déjà vu over took her, she began to feel sick.
"You think I don't know about your little internal struggle that you've being having for the past two years? The struggle to not give into your instincts?"
She dropped the book and ran, ignoring Stella's cry of 'Bloom?!'. She ran towards the toilets, not stopping for anyone (not even Griselda who looked like she wanted to yell Bloom's ear off for running into her). Pushing a cubicle door open, she bent down and rested her chin on the toilet seat. A second later, she threw up. How had he known about that? Nobody was supposed to know! The feelings she'd had when they'd broken into Cloud Tower, the way the dark magic called to her; the way those book had sung her name out – dying for her to read them. The incredible thrill and pull of dark magic. No, nobody could know. She knew what would happen if people found out.
'Bloom raised her head and smiled, welcoming him towards her.
"My lord…" She breathed as Darkar put a hand under her chin and pulled her towards him.
He kissed her and forcibly opened her mouth using his own mouth and his tongue as one hand rested on one of her bra-covered-breasts while his other hand gripped at her pelvic bone so hard, she knew there would be bruises later. She arched her back and tossed her wild orange-red hair back as she broke their kiss.'
Bloom got to her feet, wiping her mouth on a piece of toilet roll and turning around to wash her hands in the sink. She stared into the mirror. For a brief moment, the reflection that stared back at her was dressed in black, covered in blood and wearing a dark smile. She resisted the urge to punch the mirror, to shatter it into a million pieces. That's not me. That's not me. It can't be. It can't be!
The toilet door opened and Stella walked in, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug before she could say anything. A few moments later, she let her go.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
Bloom bit her bottom lip. "Yeah, fine." She lied. Far from it…
A/N: The ritual in the prologue was influenced by the opening of the 2009 Sherlock Holmes movie as well as the rituals and demon possession in Supernatural and the rituals and spell-casting in Vampire Diaries and The Secret Circle (the TV shows, not the books).