It had been a long, painful journey to the shelter. The weather was bitter and Aku's servants were never too far behind. The weight of his wounds had made travel last longer then it should have, always having to stop due to the weakness; stopping when an old wound split open from the pressure of walking. To make matters worse he wouldn't accept food offered from the Scotsman. The lack of nourishment only added to his frailty. There were times when the Scotsman glared at him, eyes shimmering while contemplating. Jack knew what the man wanted to do. He wanted to shove that food down his throat but he wasn't about to allow it without a fight. The Scotsman seemed to realize this and gave up presenting food, now attempting to entice him with water. Jack refused that as well.
Sleep was something that neither of the two could enjoy. Jack was wide awake due to the searing agony in his body while the Scotsman was on constant watch for Aku's minions, hands clutching his sword, or so he said. It wasn't the real reason he was wide awake each night. He was really watching over the samurai to make certain he didn't run off or steal the sword to end his misery. The lack of proper rest left the two weary and extremely irritable.
On the fourth day the shelter came into view. It was nothing more then a cave that led deep into the underground. For miles the two walked in darkness until a faint light could be seen. The room was small, connected to several others, and held a single bed. The samurai grunted as his bottom came into contact with the sheets and he turned over to his belly to relieve the pressure. Ringo, Connery, Rothchild, and Dryfus were stationed in the corner, watching Jack's every movement. The Scotsman walked over to the group, never taking his eyes off the samurai. The group huddled further from Jack, not wanting him to overhear their words.
The samurai perched his head up when he heard the mumbled whispers. He could make out slurred words on a form of treatment and something about holding him in place. A snarl curled from his lips. He didn't like where this was going. The tiny group spilt apart and slowly headed toward the bed.
The Scotsman, growling in disproval, moved to the side of the bed seeming to ignore the icy stare the samurai shot him. Jack turned his head, gritting his teeth as the rest approached him. In the corner of his eye could see Connery placing a glove on his hand and squeezing out some sort of ointment from a tube. Although he couldn't hear their conversation he had a feeling where this was going and he didn't like it one bit. Just as the samurai rose the Scotsman pushed him back down and held his arms in place near the head of the bed.
"Let me go!" Jack screamed. "Release me this instant!"
"I'm sorry laddie but I can't do that," the Scotsman groaned. "Try to understand that we're doin' this to help you."
"Steady, old friend," Rothchild soothed, stroking his paw over Jack's hair. Dryfus smiled down at the samurai and nodded to other Canine's words. "Please, attempt to relax. Things may go a lot easier."
Jack spun his head around to view Connery behind him, staring at glistening salve in his hands.
"It's only an herbal treatment Jack," Connery assured. "It will help your insides to heal from the damage Aku inflicted. I won't lie, though; it's going to burn at first but it will cool down quite quickly, that is if you don't tense up. The sooner you loosen up your muscles the sooner it will be over with."
The moment his robe was hiked above his hips he instantly clamped with anxiety. There wasn't any way for him to relax. The instant the treatment touched him Jack cried out and thrashed violently. The two Canines that sat near his head were thrown from the bed at the force of the actions. So violent were his movements that the Scotsman couldn't keep his hold on the samurai. The man yelled for Ringo to aid him but even with their combined strength Jack was still difficult to keep in place. His legs were bucking in attempt to kick the Triseraquin away but the being managed to avoid the whipping limbs. The two Canines were back on the bed and holding a cloth over his mouth to drown out the strangled screams. The samurai broke out in sobs as a burning sensation coursed through his body. He could barely make out the words around him between his heavy sobs. A few words about infection another about the damage. He felt miserable. He just wanted this to end and to be left in peace.
Jack was still fighting against them; he would never let up. The Scotsman glanced at the pale face underneath him. Trails of tears were sliding down the samurai's pained cheeks. He didn't want to see Jack this way. So much misery shinning in his eyes. He almost fell back in alarm at what else was spiraling in the dark eyes. Hatred, raw and powerful, was growing and it was directed at the small group brining more pain into his life. The Scotsman clenched his eyes shut. He didn't want to hear the samurai's cries again or for him to be any more agony then necessary. If only there was another way to give him ease. His fist raised into the air.
"Forgive me, friend."
The fist collided with the side of Jack's face, the force of the blow instantly rendering him unconscious.
*
The darkness around Jack dissipated, causing him to awake in the dimly lit room. His hand immediately went for his cheek, rubbing vigorously at the throbbing flesh. To his surprise, though, the searing agony in his rear had ceased and he was barely sore. He gazed around for the Scotsman, for the Triseraquins, even for the Canines but there was no sign of them. There appeared to be no movement anywhere in the cavern save the flickering of torches.
An urge to move out of the bed, to bolt of the cave, swarmed into his mind. It was tempting but something was holding him back. Fear. He was afraid to go back into the world, to the unknown that was waiting out there for him. Moreover, he was terrified of being captured by Aku's servants. The fear was silly, he knew it, but he couldn't fight off the feeling. Sighing in defeat he laid back on the bed, hoping that sleep would come back to him. He felt miserable now that reality was coming back to him. He wanted darkness to come over him again. He wanted to be free of this world.
There was a faint movement in the corner of the cave, barely noticeable, but Jack caught it. A dark mass was streaming from the cracks and pooling onto the stone floor. Jack sat upright in bed, trying to gain a better glimpse at the strange substance. Once he could see the color and the way it was shifting on the ground an overwhelming sensation of panic surged through him. His gut was telling him to get up, run, and fight, anything but just lie there immobilized. However, his mind was ordering him differently, informing him that there was no point in resisting what doom awaited him. He was weak. He was pathetic. He might as well give up.
The black puddle glided across the floor until it was creeping up the bed and sliding along the sheets. Jack was left with widening eyes as the mass slowly consumed his foot. A searing pain slid up his leg until it was coursing through all the veins in his body. Despair swarmed into his mind and heart. But deep down this was what he wanted. To be consumed, lost in the shadow that was crouching over him, and free from the world where he would have to live through his shame.
"Why are you doing this?" came a voice.
"What?" Jack asked, gazing around the room.
"Why are you doing this?" the voice repeated.
Jack's winced as the mass moved further up his leg. "I do not understand what you mean."
"You know very well what I mean!" the familiar voice snapped. "Now, answer me!"
Jack refused to answer.
The voice softened. "Why are you allowing yourself to be devoured by darkness? You are still so very young and have a long, wonderful life to live. The potential that lies in you could only lead to great things in the future. How can you lay there so idly and watch yourself be destroyed?"
"Life?! And just what kind of life would there be for me?!" Jack snorted, eyes brimming with tears.
"A good life if you permit one," the voice answered. "Of course, I won't deny it, there is a strong possibility that your life could be full of despair and misery but that will only be by your hand."
"I cannot live that way," Jack muttered. The ebony ooze was sliding around his torso. "It is too much for me to bear. How can I live with myself after that atrocity was inflicted on me? Six months. Six months." He choked. "I should have been able to prevent it, what Aku did to me. I am a warrior. I am supposed to be strong not weak. Aku, the enemy I have fended off dozens of times, defeated me so easily. No, I am not a warrior. I am just a man, a disgraceful one at most."
There was a moment of silence. "How can you even compare yourself with Aku? The creature is an immortal demon, a shape shifter; you are mortal man with limits, just like any other on this earth. Also, it is not your fault this incident occurred. The blame falls on those that betrayed you and Aku himself. You are not responsible."
"But I--" Jack began.
"You are not responsible," the voice retorted. "Now get up. Be strong."
Jack frowned. He was becoming angry from the curtness from the voice but, moreover, he was enraged at the way he was expected to budge.
"You act as if nothing has happened to me," Jack snarled. "You act as if I should forget but I will not be able to do that."
The voice sighed. "I am not insinuating that the torment you went through was nothing nor I am suggesting that you try to overlook what has taken place. But you must rise up for the world needs you, warrior, and if you are lost there will be no hope left. Only you have the power to defeat Aku."
"I could not defeat him last time!" Jack howled, the black mass surging up to his chest.
"That was because of the drug, which was forced into you," the voice countered. "You were in no condition to contend with Aku then. If you would but give yourself a chance to heal from the wounds exacted on you then you may be able to confront the demon."
"How can I confront him when I do not posses the sword?" Jack asked.
"The sword will be in your grasp soon enough," the voice answered.
"I cannot accept the sword of my father when I have brought so much shame to my family and ancestors," Jack sighed, shaking his head. "I am nothing but a disgrace."
"You are no such thing!" the voice boomed. "You are a great samurai warrior and the only thing you have bestowed upon your family is honor! They adore you dearly, no matter what you may think, and they are extremely proud of you! Never forget that!"
A feeling of familiar warmth flooded into Jack's body, causing him to relax, while the dark mass around him convulsed violently. It began to melt away but globs of the mass clutched onto him, refusing to relinquish its hold on his body, leaving Jack semi-engulfed.
"I was hoping you would awake stronger than this," the voice murmured. "But no matter. The time for you to awake has come."
"Wait, who are you?" Jack called out.
There was a pause. "You shall find out when the right moment arrives. Remember, warrior, only you may choose which path to follow in life, one of light or darkness. Please, make the right decision not only for your sake but for the world's as well. Now awake!"
The samurai's eyes flew open and jumped upright in bed, clutching at the sheets with labored breathing, sweat sliding down his body. Shivering, and ignoring those in the room, he threw the covers aside in search of the black mass and when he saw no traces a sigh of relief left him. He lay back in a relaxed state and waited to be swarmed by his friends.
To be continued.......