Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! I love reading them!
A quick A/N here though:
So some of you guys have noticed a negative guest reviewer, and it seems that this person has trolled on accounts before? But either way, I welcome all reviews, positive or critiquing. If someone is going to troll, that is their business and while it may be annoying, it is not going to affect the way I write my story lol. But thank you all so much for your kind words and support! It means a lot :)
Second, this chapter has an extra WARNING. Trigger or otherwise.
This is a DARK fic.
It's a little bloody/descriptive, and if that isn't your thing...then why the heck are you reading this story? lol.
Other than that, enjoy! And I'll see you at the bottom!
For Damon, one of the cons of taking up his father's mantle were the cries of endless human souls, shouting to him in praying hopes that he might spare their lives as they laid clinging to it in death.
Prayers and worshipers he did not want, but must endure.
He heard their pleas, in the way the bodies drew breath, a constant thing that happened in the back of the mind, with little to no thought given to it.
A natural progression that was easy to ignore when he did not wish to focus on their voices; so they were quieted to a resilient hum, somewhere in the depths of his brain.
Except now, one broke through, strong, loud, and clear as the midday sky.
The prayers of gods were heard much easier than those of mere mortals, it was true, but he had no doubt the reason the screaming words burst into his consciousness and robbed him of all other thought, was because they belonged to her.
Elena was crying out to him, praying his name in a desperate panic that flooded his very being.
His goddess was a warrior, and nothing in the Sorrow Cells would have elicited such terror from her.
That knowledge paired with the fact that she would be too proud to cry for help without her very life being threatened, and hell, maybe not even then, made him desperate to return to her and discover what exactly it was that dared draw such a response from her.
Not wanting to waste the time it would take to travel through the caverns and down to the Cells, he summoned a portal against the wall and stepped through it.
The cage is open.
That was the first thought to cross his mind as he stepped into the hall of Cells and found the one belonging to Elena with its door ajar.
Then he heard his name, screamed in her terrified voice, and all other thought abandoned him.
He was more shadow than man as he appeared at the entrance to the cage, with vision that turned crimson when his eyes gaged the happenings inside.
There were guard members. Quite a few of them, including one laying on the ground appearing unconscious, and they were attempting to keep their hold on Elena, who was struggling beneath their touch.
Two things registered in his mind simultaneously.
One, was that the beautiful black dress she had adored now hung from her body in shredded pieces, evidence of rough hands ripping at it until she was exposed, large expansions of her skin revealed, including her breasts and half of her left thigh.
The second, was that one of the guard members, the one holding onto her waist in attempts to still her, had his cock out, readying to use it on her the moment advantage allowed it.
Damon had never felt fury such as which filled him in that moment.
All the power of Hades, his power, coursed through his veins and ignited his very soul to the point that flames erupted around him without thought and a shout from his lips reverberated the very cell they stood in.
The leader of the group turned just in time for Damon's hands to grab his face, ripping his jaw apart, tearing skin and bone as he breathed hellfire down to his lungs.
The Kiss of Death. The Soul Eater.
Anyone who would dare touch his Queen would meet the same deserved fate.
The others attempted to flee, dropping Elena as quickly as he had dropped their leader, as they scrambled for the cage door.
It slammed shut upon Damon's will, trapping them inside.
He descended upon them absent mercy of any kind, knowing full well what they had intended to do.
The two closest to him screamed, until he cut their voices short by ripping out their throats with burning fingers.
They fell lifeless to his feet.
The fourth, finding himself between the bars of the cage and certain death, decided to draw a sword, in hopes of fighting back.
Damon lunged down at him, his incisors sinking into the man's neck, and blood splattered the floor as chunks of flesh were ripped away with vengeful teeth.
Making quick work of his victim, Damon stood to face the one remaining, only to find his assistance needless.
Elena had picked up the fallen guard's sword and was severing the heads of both of the last standing guard and the one she had rendered unconscious before his arrival.
When all were dead, she dropped the sword, the loud clang of it muffled by the pool of blood it landed in.
"Damon," she called to him, her voice shaking as she stepped forward.
Crossing the space to meet her, Damon pulled her into his arms, cursing to himself as she trembled against his body.
He was never letting her out of his fucking sight again.
"Take me away from here," she pleaded, in a voice so small, it broke his heart.
With a kiss to her hair, he nodded and opened a portal for them to leave the Cells.
Elena felt cold.
Even knowing those bastards who had tried to…
She shivered.
Even knowing they were dead was no comfort to the ice spearing through her body.
The feeling of complete and utter defenselessness was nothing she had ever felt before, and the experience had left her shaken to the core.
For the first time in her life, she had been outnumbered, without power or weapon to aid her, and she had damn near been violated for it.
The memory of that monster's hands digging into her skin, his erection pressed against her as the heat of his breath covered her face and neck…
Gods, she wanted to vomit at the very thought of his hands upon her.
And if he had succeeded...
"Here," Damon's hand appeared in front of her, offering a cup.
She could smell the liquor inside of it and hoped it would work to balm her frenzied nerves.
She took the offering graciously, and downed the drink in a single swallow before handing the chalice back to him.
"I was being polite," Damon said, sitting next to her on the sofa, "I thought you hated whiskey?"
He had brought her to a small room, next to his bed chambers.
It was warm, with a fire pit, and had walls with books and the small comforts of chairs and lounges.
He had assured her that they would not be bothered here as he'd draped a blanket around her shoulder.
"They almost raped me, Damon," she spoke as coldly as she felt; lacking emotion, "I do not think wine is going to cut it this time."
A flicker of the anger she had witnessed on his face before returned in a quick flash, which he quickly controlled in favor of offering her comfort.
Placing his hand on top of hers, he gently squeezed her fingers, "They will pay for what they attempted, Elena. I promise you, they will."
"Good," she shivered, "They should rot in the Fields of Punishment for ever daring to…to..."
Her sentence died off as her throat tightened.
Damon hissed from beside her, "The Fields would be a kindness of which they do not deserve. I will oversee their punishment myself and let them stand as a message to the entire realm. There will not be a man, creature, or soul in my Underworld who will dare even look at you without permission, once I am finished."
"Without your permission, you mean," she murmured.
Damon stiffened next to her, pulling away so he could see her face.
"What do you mean?"
With pain still clenched in her chest, she turned her eyes to his, boring into his very soul.
"Damon...tell me you did not order this; that these men did not attack me at your command."
Her voice broke upon the last word and she hated the tears that burned in her eyes.
Damon's however, remained clear and flashed with rage.
"What?! Of course not, Elena! What fucking reason would I have for ordering such a thing, pray tell?!"
She flinched a little, "I...I do not know. To prove a point, maybe? To be the hero-"
He threw the cup into the fireplace with a curse, causing the flames to spit with similar aggression.
"By the gods, Elena, if ever a thought even struck my mind, I would rip it out with my bare hands! I swear to you on my very soul, I would never ordered you harmed!"
"But they were your men," she spat, finding her voice with righteous anger, "They were of your guard-"
"And now they are of the dead," he snarled, "As I would have anyone who would so offend you!"
Elena dropped her head into her hands, "The offense was with myself...they overpowered me, Damon...I allowed them the upper hand, I was weak-"
"No," he growled, grabbing her arms and pulling her to her feet, "You are far from weak, my love. In full glory, you could best them, ten to one."
"In full glory," she argued, "Which you have guaranteed that I am not."
The tears were back in her eyes as she met his gaze with an icy focus, "Was it worth it, Damon? Was my soul worth this?"
An expression of pain reflected upon his face and she knew her remark had cut as intended.
"If I had known-" he whispered, in a voice as grave as his eyes.
"What?" she challenged with a humorless laugh, "You would not have taken it from me?"
"I would not have allowed your stubbornness to convince me to let you return to the Cells," he countered, lifting his hand to hold her chin between his thumb and forefinger, "I never would have let you from my sight."
"I am not your wife," she reminded him, "You say I am not your prisoner….yet those men would not have thought twice of me, had I not been here, in your domain."
"Those men would not have dared advance on you, had they known of my affection for you! A mistake I will not see repeated. Scorn my love all you wish, but it will protect you. Both here, and on Olympus. A warning I will secure in the blood of those guards on this very night!"
She took in his words, releasing a slow breath.
"Then I would join you."
Damon blinked at her statement, his brows furrowing, "You're sure?"
"I would see them punished in kind for ever thinking they could lay hands upon me," she said fiercely, "And regain my honor with every drop of their blood spilled."
Damon nodded in understanding as his hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, "Then I will resurrect them from the veil as many times as it takes to see honor restored. You will have as much of their blood as you like."
Damon recognized the hunger in Elena's eyes; the bloodthirsty need to set right those who had wronged her.
Vengeance to be felt a thousand times over what they had planned to do to her, and he would see such desire properly fed.
With a few short orders, a summoning, and an irrefutable command, he had a large room cleared for their purpose, and all yet under his domain in attendance as witness.
Guard members, errant servants, daemon creatures, half breed beings, and lesser gods alike filled the room, standing along the walls, or upon the high rafters, ready to head the word of their master.
And at the center, in sight of all, were the night's spectacles, guarded by his hounds.
Once again, they breathed; but they would not remain doing so for much longer.
They were each stripped bare and bound to an "X" rack, awaiting his arrival with Elena.
Elena stood at his side now, no longer shaking, but fierce, the focus of her gaze as they entered the room on none but those whom she would soon be unleashed upon.
He had even taken the courtesy of having a few...toys brought in, for her use.
Devices that had proven well over the centuries to elicit pain from those deserving.
His fingers wrapped around hers as she saw what he'd had delivered, and a pleased smile crossed her lips.
"You spare no expense," she murmured; a compliment well received.
He smiled back, before leading her to the room's open middle.
All noise of voices, hisses, and chattering alike ceased as he was noticed, until one by one, all within the room dropped to their knees before him, their heads lowered in submission.
Damon lifted his chin and released Elena's hand as he addressed his rulings, the hounds coming to stand at his side.
"What is my name?" he demanded of the congregation, and when whispered voices were all that answered, he repeated himself, "WHAT IS MY NAME?!"
"Death," the said, "Lord."
"Master."
"King."
He smirked as he paced the area in front of him, "It would seem that some have forgotten their Liege...and would attack a treasured guest, one of the gods-blood, absent my command!"
Hisses and screeches sounded from his loyals, until he raised his hand to silence them.
"I have always seen those deserving of it well treated, as I have always seen those whose sins demand punishment aptly dealt with as such! I am just, am I not?!"
Agreement broke out from the crowd, each having known his scorn or his mercy in some form.
"Yet these men, men of my own guard, who had sworn loyalty, dare to place their hands upon the very goddess I would name your future Queen!"
Outraged cries answered, followed with demands of death and punishment for those who would so transgress against him.
Damon laughed deeply.
His people were as hungry for righteous violence as his goddess yet stood.
And tonight, they would all feast.
"Let us see them rightfully punished, and offenses cleansed by the shedding of their blood!"
The event was a story for the ages, as he'd known it would be.
Elena was every bit the daughter of war and brutality, as she descended upon the men who had left her feeling so powerless.
Damon had gathered many weapons and tools for her utilization, among them some of the most medieval tortures, and she put them all to use.
The Judas cradle, where she split the man in half from scrotum to navel, impaling him on the barb.
The Tongue Tearer, which she proceeded to use on more than just the man's tongue…in fact, each had their cocks removed and thrown to the hounds.
The Spiked Whip, the Crocodile Shears, the Heretic's Fork, darts, swords, saws...until she drew a simple dagger and flayed the rest alive.
And the moment the pain became too much, or their bodies could no longer take the assault, Damon would bring them back, pushing them through the veil, back into bodies that his love would then continue to mutilate.
Blood ran wet across the floor of the room, some of his more ravaging winged creatures flying high above, hoping to be allowed tastes of the scraps left behind.
And Elena...she held nothing but the awe and respect of each individual who set eyes upon her.
The punishments she dealt were accepted as worthy of a Queen of the Underworld.
The fear and admiration so clear in each of his subjects filled Damon's chest with a tight pride.
This is where Elena belonged; what she had been born for.
But he could not force her to see this, and manipulating her to do such had threatened with dire consequence.
He would see those wretched souls get what they deserve, but he also knew that there had been some truth to the words Elena had spoken before.
It was partially his fault that she had been in such a vulnerable state, all alone within his realm.
A judgement error he needed to rectify as soon as she had spilled her fill of blood.
The night grew late before Elena's arms tired and her skin drenched in a mixture of sweat and blood grew overheated and slick.
Damon had kept his word and had let her punish her would-be rapists for as long as it pleased her.
When she had finished, tossing the dagger she'd used so well back upon the table, she turned and found his eyes among all the others in the room.
They were blue fire, set ablaze with desire and bloodlust, raking through her body to her very core.
Even without her soul, she felt a form of power at the command he'd given her, the room of his domain falling down as she glanced over them, kneeling before her as they had him, showing respect to their unwilling Queen.
A respect she had never been allowed on the mountain, where other gods would see her at their heel.
But here...here she had power.
She had respect.
And she had Damon.
His stare never wavered from her face as she crossed the distance between them, a sort of fire igniting with every step she grew closer to him.
His blinding smile welcomed her once she was within reach, and his arms slid around her waist, no thought given to the blood soaking her torn clothes.
"Satisfied?" he asked, the gravel in his voice a pure undiluted sound of sexual need, one she felt quivering in the tightness of her stomach as she nodded.
"I am finished with them. Give what remains to the hound, and let us find a place to be alone."
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he smirked a little, but this time the word did not paralyze her as it had before.
Damon let out a low whistle, and the dogs that had stood beside him, waiting so patiently for more, howled now in a victorious hunger, before charging onto the mangled, barely breathing corpses.
The crowds of witnesses were released, though some lingered in reluctance to see the bloodshed end, and Damon created a portal for her to step through.
The screams of dying men and the satisfied growls of those who would offer her submission were the last things Elena heard as she stepped through the transport.
It closed behind her and Damon, leaving only silence in its wake.
So no rape, but Elena did get her revenge!
Brutal, brutal, revenge...lol
Let me know what you thought! :)
