(*Guys, I really don't want to have to repeat the disclaimer and warning and stuff every chapter, so I'm not going to. It's on the first chapter. That should be enough. This is your last warning. I do not own Homestuck or any of the characters. I am not liable for any injuries sustained whilst reading this. Oh, and I've decided against most of the old-timey talk. Some people don't understand it very well. Now go have fun. }:O) *)
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The air was stale and sour, carrying the scent of straw and animal waste. Gamzee was exhausted, his whole body ached and his head throbbed when he tried to remember where he was. He opened his eyes warily, the light that was barely there filtered through cracks in the roof above his still body.
Groaning as he struggled to sit up, Gamzee's body was sore from struggle. He winced as his back popped in several places, his limbs feeling heavy and awkwardly stiff. Gamzee's throat burned, his tongue dry and feeling rough against the roof of his mouth.
He peered around the room, searching for any signs of life. The only thing that was still moving in the room was a slight drip in the corner, plip. plip. plip.
Feeling extremely parched, Gamzee stumbled towards the small puddle on numb feet, the crunch of dried straw and of dirt under his feet mixed with the rhythmic dripping of the water. He bent down on all fours as he reached the puddle, scooping up the sweet water and gulping as much down as he could manage in one swallow. His thirst being quenched, he peered into the puddle with curiosity at the boy he saw.
His eyes were tired looking and slightly swollen and bruised. The boy's face and sloppy hair were caked with mud and- 'oh, dear,' Gamzee thought. There, caked even more so than the dirt, was dried and crusting blood, atempting to flake off in chunks. Gamzee brought his hand up to touch his face. The boy in the puddle mimicked him.
'That boy is me, isn't he? ' Gamzee thought to himself. "Good God!" he whispered, trying to smear the grime from his person.
"Oh, so it's awake?" a voice hummed in the quiet. Gamzee wasn't entirely sure why his heart beat so fast with fear, but his whole body becamse tense with the anticipation that something bad should happen. Slowly, Gamzee turned with his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it hurt. Opening his eyes, he let out a surprised yelp.
Within inches of him stood a tall and slender man, dressed in long black robes that seemed fit for some sort of dark preist. His head was wrapped in a loose hood, mostly concealing his face in shadow. A few strands of long, raven hair tumbled out of his hood and pooled around his shoulders like liquid obsidian.
When the man stepped back slightly, he let his face become illuminated by the dim light filtering in. He had a face that might have once been handsome, but one that was now covered in blisters. Most of the ill sores were closed and seeming much more mild than the ones that were openly festering with visible puss. Gamzee fought the urge to gag, afraid that if he did, he might be harmed.
"Your name is Gamzee Makara, correct?" the man asked in a voice that was like satin. Gamzee nodded, unable to choke out a single syllable. "Well, Gamzee, it is your lucky night. Are you ready for your revenge?" the man asked, the pure malice in his voice being masked like a mace cought in silk. "Y-yes, sir." was Gamzee's reply, stuttering and uncertain.
"Take him. We must leave for the Makara household at once, lest the rising of the moon be missed." the blistered man said, his robes puffing out as he spun on his heels and brisquely exited the shack.
Guards appeared at Gamzee's sides, pulling his hands out parallel to the ground before clamping heavy iron shackles around his wrists. "Do not resist. You know not what you've agreed to." The guard to his right whispered in his ear, almost sounding sorry. To finalize their preperations, they tied an old sack over Gamzee's head so he couldn't see a thing.
They guided the confused and afraid Gamzee down winding mountain roads, braving confrontation with any vicious twilight predators. Gamzee's bare feet scraped against the dirt and rocks, sending them skittering off, and after a long, tense walk, Gamzee found himself being shoved up onto a tall horse, bent over and strapped on like a prisoner.
The horse's flank was soft, but it didn't break the impact of each tread as the horse galloped off. They rode far, from what Gamzee could feel; down and out of the mountains and through the forest, slowing as they skirted the edge of the villiage.
Before entering the villiage, however, they dragged Gamzee off of the horse and pulled the sack off of his head. "Prepare yourself, Gamzee. You are to have your revenge." the blistered man said, a frightening grin spread wickedly across his face. "But-" he intejected. "There is a price to pay. You will work for us after you take it." he hummed, letting his sick pleasure show in his voice. "Do not try and resist; refrain from any debate. The moment you agreed to get your revenge, you were bound to us" he continued with his head held high. "Welcome to the Dark Brotherhood, Gamzee" he finished as they shoved his head down and tossed him back on a horse.
Gamzee wondered how he could have been so stupid as to agree to this. What was he going to do to his father? And how was the Dark Brotherhood going to make him useful? Would they use him as a slave? A messenger boy? Something far worse? There wasn't time enough for such questions, for soon they had arrived at his house.
He was yanked off the horse once again, thrown down into the dirt. "Get up and prepare yourself. The sun is almost all the way down." The man hummed, opening the front door.
Gamzee was pulled into the house by the chains hooked to his shackles. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, his stomach naucious with sickening dread. "Mister Makara. Come out. We have your son. You know you must come out and face us."
There was shuffling, sounds of discontent and probably drunken grumbles interrupting the tense silence. "Whad'ya want?" Gamzee's father mumbled with slurred speech. "Mister Makara, consider this your very lucky day. You get to be the first man Gamzee can test his new little skill on. Guards, rid us of the roof. We need the moonlight." the blistered man instructed, waving off a few guards at hand that weren't busy holding the other ends of Gamzee's chains.
In a few minutes, the thachet roof had been cleared, every last straw piled behind the house to be burned later. By the time they were finished, the sun had just sank below the horizon, leaving in it's place a pregnant moon.
Gamzee's gaze was captured by the moon, not able to tear his eyes away from it. "Yes, Gamzee. Let it come. Obey the urges, everything will go smoother that way." the blistered man hummed as the guards dropped the chains frightfully and backed awqy to stand behind him
Gamzee felt an odd sensation begin to well up within him, a tingling of every nerve in his body. It was almost as if the air itself had shifted, leaving behind something thick and hard to breathe. Gamzee gasped, a sharp stabbing pain growing at the base of his back. It felt as if there were thousands of needles under every inch of his skin, pushing and shoving to get out. He cried out in agony as a throbbing in his head began, a stange hum ringing in his ears. He tried to scream, he tried to pry away the shackles that had become too tight, but long claws got in the way and his voice had somehow been replaced by agonized howls.
Slowly, the pain began to subside, allowing him to actually focus on what was happening to his body. He stared down at what would have been his hands- if he'd had any. In their place were large, clawed paws, covered in tufty, grey fur. Soon it became uncomfortable to stand straight, Gamzee's back feeling as if it were bent awkwardly. He bent down on all fours like a beast, ghastly snarls and growls emerging from his newly formed snout.
Gamzee was frightened by his new form, but his father was far worse. When Gamzee gazed up, his father was cowering against the wall, trembling with fear. Suddenly, gazing upon his father, Gamzee's heart was filled with such remourse. The Dark Brotherhood had brought him here with every intent of having him to kill his father for revenge. Gamzee loved his father very much, despite the pain he had put him through, and he would never dream of actually harming his father. But the Brotherhood wouldn't stand for this.
"Stop hesitating. Gamzee Makara, I order you to kill the man you see in front of you.'' the blistered man said in a stern voice.
And then it was like Gamzee wasn't even in controll of himself any longer. His body moved on it's own and he couldn't will himself to stop as he advanced on his father. His teeth were bared in a snarl so frightening, his fathers heart pounded in his throat. Gamzee tried his hardest to resist, but no matter how hard he fought, he could hold back.
It was only when his father's cold body lay on the hard ground that he regained his humanity. He stared in horror at what he had done. His father's body lay face down on the ground, deep crimpson blood glistening against his skin. Deep gashes ran along his body, his neck bent at a gruesome angle. Tears streamed down Gamzee's face as his human form returned, feeling sick at what crime he had just commited. His emotional pain far overlapped the physical pain of his form correcting itself, sending him into inner turmoil. Gamzee swooned at the sight of so much blood, such a violent destruction that he himself had just done.
"Very good job, Gamzee." the blistered man commented.
With one rough pat on the back, Gamzee went toppling over into the sick darkness that throbbed behind his eyes and skirted the edges of his vision. His concious form left him feeling dead in his emptied mind.