A/N: Attempting to get the writing juices flowing again by entering Stormchaser90's annual Heebie Jeebies contest, which you can find in the KP Forums here on the site.
This tiny story is a Fantasy AU, in which Drakken is a vampire, and Shego is a dryad. If you want more of this universe, read Stone House, Forest of Oak.
Rated T for mild sexuality and some mild violence and grossness. Can't say more or it'll spoil the story, but this may not be for the squeamish. Enjoy a little horror.
Noble Purpose, Dark Course
The forest of oak trees was thick around him, but the woodsman was experienced. He had been called specifically to this land, but he held great confusion around the request that had been made of him.
Rather than bring his crew, he was told explicitly to come alone. And instead of logging the land, he was told to look for a single tree—one very large oak in the thickest part of the forest, the location of which no one could quite tell him.
Thus, the woodsman explored the thickest wood of oak he had ever seen in his lifetime. More than that, it was a new growth forest. Every tree was young, the eldest perhaps twenty years old at the most to his eye, and numerous saplings peppered the forest floor. It didn't make sense that there should be none old around, and it piqued his curiosity.
It also made him wonder about the single tree he had been contracted to cut. But asking questions of that was equally pointless. Instead he simply continued on, up the hillside and under cover of the shade of the oaks.
He was surprised then when he came to a clearing. It wasn't a large one, but was a clearing nonetheless. He immediately noted the diversity of trees there as opposed to the vast majority of the land he had traveled so far. There was a line of ash, and manzanita peppered over the hilltop amid the young oak. He thought he could see...something through the trees, but he wasn't sure.
Perhaps the large oak he had been contracted to cut?
He hefted his axe and continued forward, but at that moment another sight caught his eye through the rays of sun that poured down into the clearing. Movement—a glimmer of pale green. He stopped and narrowed his eyes, creeping carefully and leaning around a broad tree trunk to get a better glimpse. And then, his eyes widened.
A woman, for woman she was, naked and seated upon a large rock, but her skin was a pale green. Immediately his mind swam with the legends of dryads and forest nymphs that the men told tales of as he watched her, seemingly preening as she ran her fingers through long her raven hair that shimmered an iridescent green when the sun rays struck it just so.
And then, she turned. He gasped as she looked directly at him and a coy smirk slowly appeared on her face. He was taken aback and felt the rush of blood to his cheeks when she spun off the rock and then seemed to hide behind it, though she peeked out and continued staring at him with that enticing smirk.
The woodsman didn't move. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. A nymph of the forest, alive and very much not a mere legend. He reached a roughened hand down and ran a finger down the edge of his axe blade until it bled to be sure he wasn't dreaming, never once taking his eyes off of the beauty before him.
The woman leaned up on her elbows, her bosom upon the rock as she reached a slender green finger toward him and then beckoned him forward. His breath fell from his lips in disbelief as she turned and lie on her back upon the large rock, her hair cascading down into the grass and her form on full display.
He hefted his axe again and started forward cautiously, reaching down to loosen his belt as his trousers began to feel too tight. The woman was on her feet in a flash as he stepped into the clearing, and she darted away into the woods. He was dismayed and nearly huffed his disappointment until he saw her again, peering out from behind the trunk of an oak and still beckoning him come.
This time, when he moved cautiously forward she didn't run. He came near enough to see her eyes, sparkling the brightest green he had ever seen. They could have been emeralds, if such a thing were possible, for how they shone. He swallowed nervously and loosened his belt further, and felt another rush of blood as the woman's smile grew.
She giggled, and then darted deeper into the thick of the trees, away from the clearing. The woodsman ran instinctively, pausing at the large rock to lean his axe against it, and then continued after the mysterious green nymph.
He never saw the blue-skinned being who came after him and picked up the axe, breaking its head off the handle and then taking the pieces far from the hilltop.
The woodsman's pursuit continued back down the other side of the hill, with him catching glimpses of the giggling, elusive woman and getting ever closer. She was playing with him. She surely wanted him, for the playful little looks she gave and the sultry poses she struck in the brief moments he caught up to her before she would vanish again.
He pushed with difficulty through the thickening trees and branches as the dryad moved faster. He was gaining ground on her, but the density of the wood was slowing his progress. And yet, she clearly wanted to be caught, for she never moved beyond his sight, seeming aware of his plight.
Then, as if a tree itself had moved, a thick branch suddenly blocked his path. He strained, reaching beyond it toward the nymph who had stopped again. And then his attention was arrested as she straightened from behind the tree trunk where she was hidden.
He ignored the poking and scraping of twigs and branches against his person as the woman lifted her chin and stepped into view again, slowly approaching him. He reached for her hungrily but felt the catch of his clothing on many a branch, halting his advance. He reached back to loosen one's hold, but stopped as his breath was taken away by the shapely form approaching him. She was the most stunning example of a woman he had ever beheld, and his purpose that day was entirely forgotten in hope of the chance to have her.
He took in the dark tresses of her hair and the pale green of her skin, and then realized in an instant...she wasn't quite the perfection that his distant glimpses of her had shown him. Her figure was scarred, deeply, on every part of her body from head to toe. And the scars were all different, as if made by a variety of bladed instruments. One even looked to be made by a saw.
His brow twisted in confusion and he tried to step toward her again. But that time the branch blocking him seemed to press back against him.
The woodsman tore his eyes from the nymph to see what was holding him back, and then gasped in fright.
The trees he had been passing through were suddenly next to him. He was certain they hadn't been before, and yet they were. And he saw a shimmer of unearthly movement across the oaken bark as he looked left to right and back again. He reached down to where the snag on his clothing was pulling harder and suddenly found his wrist pinned by something rough. The pinching and pulling against his body increased as more and more branches and oak leaves encroached upon him, beginning to block his vision.
Within moments he could no longer move, surrounded on all sides by young oak trees pressing against him, twigs scraping his face and ripping at his clothing. And then, a worse threat came with a chill-inducing pressure as tree trunks began pushing up against his body. He struggled again to reach his arm out to the woman who was now less than five feet from him, her coy smile having turned malicious.
"H-Help!" he cried desperately. "The...the trees!"
The woman's smile grew as she lifted a hand, and suddenly the trees and branches all seemed to halt at her command.
"Yes, the trees," she spoke, her voice beautiful and cold like a silvery rain. "Your axe will never harm me, or my daughters, or any other daughter of the forest again."
The man jumped then, the press and scraping of branches drawing blood as new feminine laughter near and far filled his ears. Through the thick leaves he began to see female forms amid the movement on the bark that had so startled him. And then as if from nowhere, women and young girls were suddenly surrounding him. He watched as the children ran up to the dryad he had pursued while others danced around her, their laughter ringing in his ears like a warning. Almost as quickly as they had appeared, they all vanished. And new fear arrested his mind as he watched as through some sorcery they became the very oaks he had been walking through.
"No! No, please, help!" he cried in vain as the trees pressed him. His skin burned where they scraped him and the blood was warm where it stuck his clothes to his body. But his last sight of the woman was her giving him a look he hadn't expected—a look of pain—and then her dark, iridescent hair swaying behind her as she departed while leaves gradually blocked his vision.
He tried to push back against the oaks, but it was futile. He may as well have been fighting stone for how powerless he was against the strength of the wood. He knew his fate was sealed, but it did nothing to quell his panic as the pain of their crushing became unbearable. He felt his bones start to shift and he cried out weakly in agony as the air was forced from his lungs. He tried to draw breath but was unable to do so. His vision started to swim and his eyes watered as he frantically grasped and claw at any bark and leaves within his reach.
The scent of iron hit his nostrils before he tasted his own blood, and his last terror-stricken awareness before everything went dark was of wild feminine laughter mixed in with the rustling of oak leaves.
The blue-skinned being strode confidently up the hill, passing through the clearing and then heading to the wood with the newest young saplings. It wasn't long before he saw her, kneeling over one of the tiniest ones and tending it, its tiny leaves only just beginning to unfurl. And as always, his breath caught upon seeing her.
She was beauty incarnate, and he would never cease to marvel at everything that was...her. He nearly stopped his approach in his awe, but the wind moving through their daughters' leaves brought an appealing scent, so he continued forward.
He touched the scar on his face idly as he surveyed all of hers, an ill feeling sinking in his stomach as it did each time he thought of what had been done to her in her scarce years of life. But that woodsman at least could not harm her, for his axe head was sunk at the bottom of the river, and the handle burned with dragon fire.
And then, she looked up.
"Drakken!" she cried in glee, kicking up soil as she sprung to her feet, dancing lithely toward him. "Look! Her leaves are starting to unfold!"
"Shego..." he said adoringly as she clasped his hand and dragged him back to the tiny oak they had planted, whose life depended on them both. He listened as she expounded upon the wonderful future she saw for their hybrid offspring, entranced by the melodies of her voice, the rhythms of her every nuanced move, and the transcendent beauty of her form.
He was startled when another breeze brought the appealing scent his way again, and then he focused back in as her excited conversation stopped. Her smile became enigmatic as she gazed at him, taking his hands. Her touch sent a shiver of excitement through him as always, as she started tugging him deeper into the forest of oak they had planted.
"I have a gift for you," she said, her voice husky and almost malicious as she hurried him toward their eldest children.
The scent was growing stronger, and he couldn't manage a response as he saw the group of young trees pressed unnaturally together. He knew the prize they held within.
"Oh my darlings!" Shego sang out, skipping away from him and toward the trees. He watched her, mesmerized again, and then his gaze shifted back to the trees as they shifted into their human-like forms, laughing in glee and dancing over the grass and soil with their mother. But his eyes only stayed on them for a moment.
Where the trees had stood, a body fell to the ground with a soft thud against the forest floor. Drakken licked his lips in anticipation as he approached, his steps growing more rapid as the scent grew stronger and he felt his need for a meal more keenly.
He almost tuned out the laughter and questions of his daughters, asking if the man was dead yet and if they had pleased him. He managed a grunt of response as he knelt and dragged the body toward him, noting the half-lidded eyes that were rolled back and the blood dribbling from the man's mouth. The girls had crushed many of his bones, and from the sticky feeling of the warm flesh beneath the clothing, he knew the woodsman's open wounds were why the scent was so prominent.
With delicate care he tilted back the dead man's head, and then licked his lips once more before sinking his fangs into the neck and beginning to feed. As the euphoria began to take him and his belly began to fill, he was faintly aware of Shego praising their children for their excellent work in providing his meal. Gradually, their laughter and delighted chatter faded, and soon he became aware only of the sunlight, the soft rustling of the breeze in the leaves that now surrounded them, the truth of the oaken forest a secret once more.
Small, rough hands circled his arm, and he resisted the immediate urge to lash out at the potential threat to his feast. He blinked deliriously until his gaze focused on Shego's wicked grin, just within his line of sight.
"The axe?" she asked softly, the faintest hint of fear entering her eyes.
Drakken took another deep slurp and then released the corpse's neck with a pop, swallowing the blood greedily.
"Destroyed," he answered her, shifting slightly to see her better, but his hands remaining on his prize. "Thank you," he continued, feeling shy for a moment as she shifted closer to him, observing her beauty once more that years of scarring could never hide. He would spend eternity avenging her of woodsmen's cruelty, and it was with that thought he hefted the dead man closer, tearing flesh with claws for a moment before lapping at the blood at the puncture site and then resuming his feed.
"They did well, didn't they," Shego said admiringly, her hand rubbing up his arm and starting to fiddle with his collar.
"Mmmh..." Drakken hummed as he continued to take in the nourishment, the euphoria taking him again and lighting up his senses. He felt he could slay every woodsman in the world for how much energy the blood gave him.
He felt Shego's other hand at the waistband of his trousers before the first slid down his chest to join it, and he shifted the corpse over to give her plenty of room as he continued to feast. The energy he was gaining from the fresh meal readily fueled that desire as well, and he let her touch and melodic laughter carry him away as they always did, and as he knew they always would.