Hello, readers! O.O Wow. I wasn't expecting the response I got from this. Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! They mean a lot. I actually didn't have another chapter done and was planning on putting this off for a while, but you spurned me on into writing!
I've decided to put this up to 'M' just to be on the safe side. With the innuendos, the violence, the topic, and the perversion of thought amongst other things, I thought it best to be safe.
If you haven't yet listened to "She's Gone" or "Obsession/Nightmare" I highly suggest it. Great songs and they aid the story. If you want a link, just PM me or let me know in a review!
Let me know what you think of this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth', "She's Gone" or "Obsession/Nightmare"
Nightmare
Don't run.
Don't escape.
In the flickering candlelight, he watched her struggle, the ropes digging into her soft flesh. Her dark hair tumbled down her back in matted waves. Her white dress hung from her body torn, its cloudlike sleeves no longer present. The white stained red and black.
Her glistening green eyes turned to him, fear watering them.
She had to understand.
The deranged king stepped up to her, kneeling on the hard cobblestone. Oblivious to the rock shards gouging into his flesh, he lifted a black gloved hand to her pale face. He gently stroked her cheek.
"My only sin was loving you," he explained in a husky whisper. "I did everything you asked me to do."
Her full pink lips parted slightly in a silent plea. Dark passion surged through him and he captured her soft, pliable lips in his firm, demanding ones.
She groaned and tried to pull away.
He growled in response and twisted the long fingers of a gloved hand in her dark hair, arching her head back. He pushed her legs apart and pressed his body against hers amongst the folds of fabric. She moaned in pain as his lips ravished and bruised hers sending him deeper into his frenzy.
He bit and sucked and tore at her lips.
And her jaw.
And her neck.
Her shoulders.
Her collarbone.
Her flesh was so soft and sweet.
So perfect.
So beautiful.
He pulled back from her tantalizing flesh, his eyes burning darkly. His gaze fell on his doings.
Her swelling lips.
The cream skin, her beautiful cream skin, stained red and purple.
Oh God.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as she let out a whimper.
As she trembled beneath him, the horror of his actions melted away.
She was there.
With him.
So wonderfully warm.
Pressed so close.
The night wasn't lonely.
He lifted the hand that wasn't tangled in her hair and ran it down her cheek, shushing her whimpers. He traced her jaw and slowly moved his hand down her neck, across her shoulders, brushing her collarbone and the raised platform of her breasts that swelled over the confines of the dress. As his fingers grazed across her rapidly rising and falling breasts, dark desire returned and he pressed his lips to the soft flesh.
She gasped, her heartbeat racing.
Faster.
Faster.
His lips pressed harder, thrilling in the fluttering heartbeat. His body closed in, shrinking the space between them. Molding her soft body to his firm one.
He flicked his tongue out, tasting her sweet flesh. He ran it across her exposed skin, making his way slowly back to her neck. His nose brushed against her earlobe. He tilted his chin slightly and opened his mouth, capturing the tender piece of flesh between his teeth.
The dark hair beauty took in a sharp breath, pushing herself wonderfully against him.
He ran his tongue over the flesh before regretfully letting it go. He brushed his lips against her ear and whispered tenderly, "I'm happy we're together."
His lips danced across her jaw.
"Don't worry anymore."
His lips caressed her cheek before hovering over hers.
"I'll stay by your side and protect you forever."
He brought his lips firmly down on hers, crushing them. He softened and coaxed but they refused to move. He pried and tore but they refused to move.
The angered king pulled his lips from hers and looked into green eyes sparkling with defiance.
He turned from those burning eyes and stood up, her warmth leaving his body. He stood in the dark room, shrouded in coldness and loneliness.
"I'm serious," he whispered harshly. Turning back to her with passion blazing in his mismatched eyes, he yelled, "I'm attached to you!"
"Y-you're insane," she choked out from swollen lips.
No.
No.
He loved her.
She was his obsession.
He wasn't insane.
His only sin was loving her.
No.
No.
With a cry of anguish, he stepped forward and threw his hand at her face. Her head arched backwards from the force of the blow. As she stared at the dark ceiling above her, the furious king growled, "I did everything you asked me to, and now you say what?!"
Her answer was mocking silence. He reached out a leather clad hand and seized her chin, jerking her head down. When she looked back at him, her cheek was deformed with red and purple splotches.
His hear sunk at the imperfection on her beautiful face.
This perfect dream was becoming a nightmare.
A nightmare.
A nightmare.
No.
He had planned it perfectly.
He had planned it beautifully.
And she, she had ruined it.
He looked down at his coat.
High, stiff collar.
Dark, royal blue.
Glittering jewels.
It was beautiful.
It was perfect.
Why couldn't she see?
Why couldn't she understand?
He did it all for her.
He was exhausted.
But she didn't care.
She had ruined it.
He conjured a crystal on his fingertips and broke it at his feet, transporting himself back to the shattered dream. The revelers lay strewn on the shattered glass, bloodied and broken. The pure white dream stained from their death. He had prepared it so beautifully for her. And now—
Now, it doesn't look happy.
The dream was like a nightmare.
With a roar, he clawed at the coat that still cloaked his body.
Ruined.
He would ruin it.
Just as she had ruined everything else.
As the coat fell in shreds around him, he tore off the cravat that was laced artfully around his neck.
Nothing perfect.
Nothing beautiful.
With another crystal, he conjured a black cloak, shredded and frayed at the ends. He tied it around his neck.
Imperfect.
Hideous.
With his wild hair darkening from its sunlight shade to one of nightmares and eyes blazing with deadly passion, he transported himself back to the small room that held her.
His love.
His obsession.
The one who destroyed everything.
She would learn.
She would understand.
She would be his.
As he stepped into the dark room, the shadows deepened by the dying candle, his eyes fell on the empty chair. The ropes gathered in a pile around it, no longer useful.
Shock.
Fear.
Pain.
Hatred.
In a few long strides he reached the chair. He snatched the offending object and threw it against the stone wall taking pride in the shattered pieces of wood that littered the floor.
He stormed out of the room into his Labyrinth. The sky above darkened and thick thunder clouds rolled in threatening to release themselves on the parched land below. The air was thick, heavy with portent. White lightening seared across the sky.
The Labyrinth, sensing its king's dark mood, shifted to match him. High walls of sharp stone. Brown and withering vines clawing out of the dead ground searching for life.
His mismatched eyes scanned the passageways presented before him. The walls shifted and he caught sight of a tattered and muddied white dress disappearing around a corner. With a humorless smile, he stalked after her.
He conjured a dark crystal and let it dance across his fingers. He summoned her in its depths. Her panic face appeared. Eyes wide and fear. Bruised and bloodied swollen lips parted in heavy breathing. Chest heaving.
Desire and passion surged through him. "I don't want to believe that you've left," he murmured to the figure in the crystal's bowels. "You're just like a child that's lost their way."
His feet hit something not a part of his Labyrinth and it tumbled with high pitched clinks. He glanced down, the bruised beauty in the crystal momentarily forgotten, and his eyes fell upon a pair of discarded heels.
Beautiful heels.
Perfect heels.
She had ruined it.
He had given her everything, her dreams.
And she had ruined it.
Anger surged through his veins and with a flick of the wrist the crystal turned into a simple dagger.
She had to learn.
She had to understand.
What she ruined.
What she lost.
He loved her.
It only made sense that he had to teach her.
With renewed vigor and passion, he continued down the passage with determined steps.
Her slim form always elusive.
Dashing around another turn.
Flitting out of sight the moment he appeared.
She took a sharp turn, doubling back.
He smirked.
Foolish.
As if I didn't know my own Labyrinth.
Letting her continue her foolish belief, he continued down the passageway straight before him. With his will the Labyrinth shifted, and he saw her shivering form ahead of him.
His lips curled over his teeth as a tumult of wonderfully thrilling and powerful passions and desires coursed through his veins, his blood hot with it.
She hesitantly approached the end of the passage. She reached out trembling hands and grasped the edge of the wall. Cautiously peering over the side, she was oblivious to his quiet footfalls.
He pressed up behind her and wrapped a gloved hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He pulled her flailing body away from the turn. He spun her around to face him, her green eyes wide in horror.
She had to learn.
She had to understand.
She had ruined it.
He withdrew his arm from around her waist, tightening his grip on the dagger in his hand. Silently, he slipped it between her ribs.
He felt her gasp against his hand; her warm breath stirred his heart. Releasing her mouth, he once again ensnared her waist and pulled her deep into him, and the dagger.
He consumed her lips in his as a fiery passion burned in his breast.
The possessed king felt her slipping.
Further away.
He heard her strangled gasps for air.
Forgive me.
You had to learn.
You had to understand.
Her body slid from his grasp and off the knife. Her small form crumbled onto the Labyrinth floor. Her green eyes stared on glassy. Her lips parted in a silent plea or invitation. Her breasts stilled. Her white dress turning crimson.
The dagger fell from his limp fingers as he collapsed opposite her. He pushed his back against the harsh outcropping of the stone wall, his breathing ragged.
I'm sorry.
You have to give me a chance to apologize, right?
Don't you think I would feel guilty?