Tainted Shadows

(A/N: Second up today. It's moving into more taboo—so to speak—territory now. The next chapter is one I'm quite iffy about posting, honestly. Then again this is based heavily in Mythology and Mythology can get quite… disturbing, to say the least. By the end of this chapter I'm willing to bet you'll probably have an idea as to where this is heading. The Black Widow and Praying Mantis analogy pretty much gives it away... Yeah. Next chapter's not going to be pretty. Not graphic but not pretty. As to those wondering about Tabuu's human form, it's basically his Brawl form only not as… ethereal. Just add human features and traits.)

Desire

He was chained between two posts, just as he had been the night he was cast from Star Haven. He was in an arena of sorts, and this would be a fight to the death. He'd expected as much from her, but not quite to this degree. She sat upon her Shadow Throne, impatiently drumming her fingers against the armrest. The first challenger was armed to the teeth and armored well. He had nothing; nothing but his hands. This was a death sentence, and he'd known as much the moment the tournament was announced.

His opponents had demanded he have a large disadvantage. They'd wanted him to be chained to the wall of the arena, severely limiting his movements. The Shadow Queen had heard no more of such an idea. She'd decided it would be more fun if he had full range. Part of him believed also that she wanted him to survive; at least long enough to face her. The chains binding him between the two posts were unlocked and he fell to his hands and knees. Immediately the first contender in this game of death sprang forward, ready to kill.

He rose swiftly and seized the man's wrists, holding back the blade and the shield. The two of them grappled for hardly seconds before Tabuu pried the blade from his enemy's hand and cut him open. Victoriously he looked up. "Next," he said, and it was as if fighting came as easily to him as breathing. Hecate's eyes narrowed dangerously. She motioned with her hand and the next contender was brought out, this one far bigger than the last.

The man barrelled towards Tabuu. Tabuu threw the blade he'd taken from the first dead man to the side. He hardly needed it. He ran swiftly and surely towards the bigger man and slid across the ground, going beneath him. The bigger man bent his head to look between his legs for his target. Tabuu leapt onto his back snapped his neck. Jumping off, he let the man crash to the ground.

SMB

"Hecate, your champions disappoint me," he murmured, now close to the Queen's throne.

"You want a challenge, so be it. Release them all!" she ordered. Gates were opened on all sides and Tabuu found himself surrounded. He summed up the number of his opponents. Oh if he had his full power… There were ten in all, each one armed, and he knew he stood no chance against them. Not in this mortal form, not unarmed. One lunged at him from behind and Tabuu swiftly spun, taking out the attacker who had journeyed forth on his own in an attempt at being a hero. Hmm, if the rest were as foolish, this would be easier than he thought. "Attack him all at once!" Hecate furiously shouted, rising from her throne. Immediately they moved to obey.

Tabuu scanned around him. "Father, help me," he murmured quietly in supplication to Crazy Hand. A surge of power seemed to shoot through him that very moment and he grabbed up the body, using it as a sort of meat-shield. He took the weapon that had been in the dead attacker's hand and began using it as if he were born to. He managed to break away from the ganging attackers, killing three more in the process. He grabbed a spear from the ground and hurled it towards them, impaling two without trouble. The last four lunged at him together.

No one was sure what exactly happened when the four descended upon him with their weapons. All that was seen, really, was blood; all that was heard were screams of pain. When the dust settled, there in the midst of the bodies knelt Tabuu, duel-wielding two blades and crossing them in front of him as he panted for breath. This mortal form was too easily winded, he determined. It ran out of stamina far too swiftly. He looked up at the Queen who stood watching, lips pursed and eyes glittering in fury. In her gaze was a look of reverence. She was impressed, very much so.

SMB

"You continue to impress," she remarked. "But you won't stand against me." Without hesitation she removed her tall crown, placing it down, seized a blade, and leapt nimbly into the arena. "Come, Tabuu, show me what you can do."

He ran at her instantly, but though she held a sword she hardly relied on it, using instead her spells and powers. He did all he could to avoid her, but it was more troublesome than he would have liked. He leapt forward, cutting through an evil looking conjuration and landing before her. He struck and she blocked with her blade, holding her own against him.

"You challenge me," he remarked, genuinely impressed. They had been at this for three minutes now, but both were tiring quickly, and Tabuu was already partially drained. He pushed her away from him and staggered back, trying to catch his breath. She lunged, not letting up. He seized her, spinning her around and holding her tightly against him. She, however, was keeping his blade at bay with her own. She broke free of his arms and spun, slashing at him and cutting him deeply, much too close to the stomach for his liking, might he add.

The two fought back and forth until finally he caught her blade and tossed it far out of her hands. In her moment of distraction he struck her with the face of the sword, sending her sprawling to the ground. She scrambled to her knees, seizing her weapon, and spun… only to find his duel blades crossed against her neck. With one swift motion he could behead her. It would hardly be an effort. She tried to find a way out, spells, conjurations, anything. There was none. She dropped the sword she held and gazed defiantly up at him. Victory was his, and she would die according to the rules she'd laid out.

SMB

"You have bested me," she admitted. "No one has ever been able to before."

"Give me freedom," he said.

"You will never be free," she sneered. "Whether you kill me or not, you will never be free. You were a prisoner when I found you, trapped inside this body you possess. You angered someone deeply, and for that you are forever a captive in our world."

"A captive though I may be, I've become accustomed to my prison," he answered, alluding to his human form.

"End it," she ordered. He did nothing. "End it!" she ordered again. Finally he drew back his swords from her throat and tossed them to the sides.

"I will never be free again…" he murmured, more to himself than to her, but she saw a flash of very real pain in his eyes and very real sadness. He felt hopeless, she realized. He felt hopeless… "Better to be a slave in the castle I've come to know than a slave in a world and a place foreign to me… But make no mistake; I will never belong amongst you mortals… Rise, Shadow Queen, and claim your slave. If I die, I die; if I am spared, I am spared." He knelt before her, then, bowing his head and offering her the back of his neck. She rose, taking hold of her blade. She looked down on him, so still, so unafraid to die; perhaps part of him even wanted to. She raised the sword slowly above her head, the blade catching the light and flashing brightly. She went to bring it down, severing head from body… but she couldn't… she couldn't… She didn't know why she couldn't. Finally she took the blade away and sheathed it.

"You live," she simply said. With that she turned her back on him and ordered her servants wordlessly to leave the arena. He looked up after her, watching her body and her movements appraisingly with his eyes.

SMB

She gazed down at him from her window perch as he worked in the courtyard. Her handmaidens were doing her nails, brushing her hair, and otherwise pampering her. Her mind was hardly on that, though, as her eyes stayed fixed on him. She couldn't get over his grace. "He is beautiful," she heard her handmaidens murmuring to one another.

"I have never seen a man more pleasant to look at," another agreed.

"Or listen to. His voice, it's just so-so…" a third began, trying to find the appropriate word.

"Otherworldly," Hecate absently supplied. "His beauty is not normal amongst men, his voice is unearthly, and the words and way he speaks… What is the fine line between lust and love, I wonder?" It was a rhetorical question, so the handmaidens knew not to answer, but nonetheless they exchanged surprised and amused looks. Their Queen had become enraptured by her slave.

SMB

She sat by the pond in the courtyard, absently tracing the water as he worked nearby. He cursed the way these humans had to toil and suffer. "You are my slave. You are obliged to do anything and everything I command of you," she remarked. Oh lady, if only you knew what you were speaking to. You would find very quickly who the slave truly is.

"What is it you command?" he questioned.

"Sit by me," she answered. He froze in position, the axe over his head, and looked towards her. After a long moment he put the axe down and approached. Obligingly he sat at her side. "You enthrall me, servant," she murmured to him.

"The feeling is mutual," he answered, because no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not understand the mysterious Queen sitting beside him.

"What were you once?" she asked.

"I will not answer," he replied.

"Are you aware of the human courting process?" she wondered.

"Both before and after marriage," he confirmed, nodding.

"You kissed me the day you nearly killed me," she murmured, tracing invisible pictures in the water. He looked quickly over to her. How much more had she felt him do, he wondered? She looked over to him. "Let me show you how a conscious woman reciprocates."

He summed her silently up. An amused smile crossed his lips. "You are unwise, Hecate," he murmured.

"Perhaps," she confirmed. He bent and took her lips. Gently she began to move her own against his. He went to draw back but she pulled him to her again and deepened the kiss, startling him greatly. What was this? What was she doing? He realized quickly enough, though, to just work with it, and soon he settled quite comfortably into this kissing ritual. The two drew apart. They needed to catch their breath. Softly she looked up into his eyes. "Was it to your satisfaction?" she wondered.

He blinked at her blankly only once before pouncing on her again and kissing her more fervently than the last one. She gasped and worked desperately to keep up to the kisses that were no longer only on the lips, but on the neck, the jawline, and the shoulders. He was kissing her stomach, now, everywhere that her skin was exposed, and she gasped, holding his head against her body and trailing her fingers down his spine. It perhaps would have gone farther, but just then a voice called, "Queen Hecate, you are needed in the Throne Room!" Her eyes lit up in outrage, darkening. He had stopped kissing her, you see, and had drawn back as casually as if nothing had happened. She wondered whether it was this fact that bugged her more or the fact that he had been interrupted. Nonetheless she rose to tend to her court.

SMB

Tabuu was infuriated, that much was plain to see. His eyes flashed viciously as he scowled after her retreating form. This was the second time he had been interrupted in the process of examining the human female form, and he wouldn't stand for it a third. When an immortal saw something they liked, they pursued it without letup; when an immortal saw something they desired, they took it. Whether the other party was willing or not, male or female, they took it. This would be no exception. He would have that woman if he had to force himself upon her. Lust had consumed the deity, at this point, and there was nothing more dangerous than lust, let alone the lust of a divine.

He entered into her Throne Room as soon as he knew it was clear. He thought about approaching her without stopping and dragging her from her throne, throwing her to the ground, and forcing himself into her. Some part of him, though, held him back from doing any such action. Part of him adamantly refused to harm her in such a heinous way. He paused about half-way across. She looked up at him, and for a moment her eyes became filled with desire. "Only the very stupid or the very bold dare to approach me without a summons. What is it?" she demanded.

He summed her up silently. Finally he replied, "Nothing. I came here to see how difficult it would be."

"How difficult what would be?" she suspiciously wondered.

To hide from you all I intend to do to you, he answered to himself, ensuring she wouldn't hear his thoughts. "How difficult it would be to take you into my bed," he admitted.

"Marry me and you will have all of me," she answered.

"Would you accept if I asked," he questioned, knowing full well the answer.

"I would have you beheaded," she answered. All right, so at the base of it he was right, the answer was no. He simply hadn't expected the punishment for a proposal to be quite so severe.

"How many have died wanting you for their bride?" he wondered.

"More than you can begin to imagine," she replied, a cruel smirk spreading across her lips. In fact would-be suitors made up quite a large portion of her executions.

"You are like a Black Widow, my Queen, or a Praying Mantis," he remarked.

"In what sense?" she wondered, though the amused smile betrayed that she knew the answer already.

"In the sense that both slaughter their would-be lovers and devour them," he answered. "By the time they do, however, it is too late to spare the female," he added. She sat up, eyes narrowing menacingly. Was this a threat, she wondered. "You see, the males do not wait to be accepted by the females. They ambush her when she is least aware, and before she has a chance to kill them they have taken her purity from her. Only when it is already far too late does she managed to enact her vengeance upon them."

"If you speak any further of this, I swear to the gods that I will have you bound and drowned in the darkest depths of the sea!" she shouted angrily at him, rising from her throne with eyes glittering viciously.

"It will change nothing. It will still have been too late for you," he answered. With that he turned and left. She watched uncertainly after him. Part of her was afraid of his words, afraid of the threat he had uttered. Part of her didn't even view it as such. That part was the part of her that cried out to him with her whole body and being to make good on his utterance. That part was the part that begged him to take her. Quickly she shoved the idea away, chastising herself for such a thought, but despite herself she found her eyes ponderously wandering in the direction he had gone.