Disclaimer: I do not own the rights for the Mummy series nor do I make any money off of this fanfic. But I really wish someone would sell the right to Ardeth Bay to me. I would love to have him, to own him to control him. Ok enough of that, its only wishful thinking and lovely daydreams. Bummer!

Bad Author Notes: First of my thanks to Deana and The Bookworm for the jumpstarts I need in this story. Also thanks for returning my Muse after stealing her again Deana. Next I am the Empress of the Twisted Tale so hold on to your seat while I kick this camel into overdrive.

Screams in the Dark

By Lady FoxFire

May 26, 2002

The hands grabbed him. They touched him, stroke him, hurt him and held him down.

Ardeth struggled against the hands. He bit, kicked and hit against those that hide in the shadows, against those torturous hands.

The hands ripped at his clothes and at his flesh. They tangled in his hair and cruelly yanked.

Two new hands replaced the hands that Ardeth threw off, taking the place in his torture, his humiliation.

Ardeth screamed out to his god when he felt the cold metal of the manacles bite down upon his flesh. He heard the cheers and jeers of those watching wash over him as a leather collar was wrapped tightly around his neck.

The hands disappeared as someone yanked on his leash. Another harder, crueler yank brought Ardeth to his knees. In front of him stood a tall figure dressed in gray, his face hidden in the shadows. "You belong to me." A voice echoed in his mind

"Ardeth!" a familiar voice called out to him from among the watchers

Ardeth turned in the direction of the voice. There not far from him was O'Connell fighting against a horde of gray warriors, battling his way ever closer towards him.

"Don't lose hope, my brother!" Rick called out as a sudden turn in the fighting pushed him farther away. "I will save you!"

"O'Connell!" Ardeth called out as hope once again filled his body. Once again he struggled against his leash, against those that were trying to possess him. For a brief moment he was able to break free before the hands descended upon him once again, clutching at him, at his flesh, holding him back.

Ardeth fought against them, only pausing for a moment to glance towards his friend, to find Rick closer.

As the two men drew nearer, something caused Ardeth to look towards his friend. A warrior appeared out of nowhere behind O'Connell; a sword in his hand. "Rick!" he screamed in warning as he watched the gray warrior thrust the blade into his friend's back.

Their eyes locked together, blood dribbling out of Rick's mouth as he spoke. "I'm sorry, my brother." The other warriors gathered around Rick, their swords stained with blood rising and falling into the air, hacking at his body.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Ardeth jerked awake, panting, struggling for breath. His eyes roamed around frantically, still caught in the horror of what he was beginning to realize was just a dream, a nightmare. Slowly his mind pieced together that he was in a tent someplace, lying under a pile of blankets that smelled of camels.

He jumped in surprise as a leather water skin appeared next to him. The lean figure chuckled softly, as he stood just a few steps away, watching the Med-jai's reaction. "Drink your fill, Med-Jai, then go back to sleep. We ride again in the morning," the dark figure said before slipping out of the tent.

Ardeth's bound hands still shook from the effects his dream as he grasped the neck of the water skin. Using his teeth he was able to pry the cork from the skin. Wisely he drank the water slowly, knowing that to gulp the life giving liquid would make him sick. Drinking his fill, Ardeth re-corked the water skin and lay back down, pulling the covers back over himself. He watched the walls of the tent moved as the wind blew around the tent, making the tent appear as if it were breathing. He struggled to keep his eyes open as the siren call of sleep claimed him once again.

"Get up!" A voice growled as Ardeth's blanket was ripped off him.

With a groan Ardeth sat up and wiped the grit from his eyes. Grabbing the water skin, he took a long gulp of the brackish water as he watched his owner pack the blanket. The man still wore the same grayish brown robes he had on at the market. "Why do you keep your face covered?" Ardeth blurted out without thinking.

The man stopped what he was doing and glared at his prisoner. "I like living," was his only reply before turning back to his work, leaving Ardeth to puzzle out his meaning in silence.

"Take your clothes off."

Ardeth's head snapped up, his mouth opened in surprise. "What? What did you say?"

"I said take your clothes off," Ardeth's owner said as his dark eyes wondered over the warrior's lean, muscular body.

Ardeth pulled his shoulders back; his eyes narrowed as his head rose in defiance. "And if I refuse?" his voice dropped down into a dangerous growl.

"Then you will be very sorry," the master stated, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Remember, my prize, I have all the advantages here."

Ardeth bowed his head in defeat, his hair hiding his face. "Live today, fight tomorrow," he whispered to himself. Ardeth thrust his bound hands towards the man, waiting for him to be untied.

Wearily the man approached the warrior, and with a few tugs the Med-Jai's hands were once again free. The Master stepped back, his eyes watching Ardeth, carefully waiting for the warrior to try something.

"Your clothes," the man commanded, his hands once again resting on his weapons

With a shiver Ardeth peeled off what was left of his dirt and blood strained robes, trying not to show any outwards signs of his fear and self-loathing as he removed his boots and pants. Silently he prayed to Allah that he wouldn't be forced to remove the rest of his clothing as he stood there with only his loincloth on.

His body tensed under the gaze of the Master's eyes as they wondered up and down his slave's lean, sculpted body. Ardeth could hear the man's breath catch as he enjoyed the view of his nearly naked warrior. "Sit down," he ordered, with some difficulty.

Ardeth reluctantly lowered himself back onto his sleeping pallet, his eyes glaring at his owner with hate and disgust. His body tensed as he watched the man walked over, towering over him. He closed his eyes tight in disgust as his master's hand brushed gently against his check.

"So beautiful," the man murmured.

He felt the man walk behind him, and a shiver raced through his body as his owner gathered his long black hair in his hands and pulled it over to one side, letting it spill down his shoulder. It took all of Ardeth's will to stop himself from jerking away as a hand stoked the top of his head.

"Lean forward," the man commanded as he brushed aside a few loose strands of hair.

Gritting his teeth, Ardeth obeyed his master, dreading what was to come. He stopped when his owner grabbed his shoulder. "That's far enough," he said as he pulled him back a few inches. "Perfect," he purred to himself as his fingers trailed across Ardeth's shoulder and over his neck.

Ardeth bit his lip as he felt the man's hands touching him, exploring his arms, his neck and his back. He shivered when he felt the warm breath on the back of his neck.

"Argh," he hissed through clenched teeth when the Master prodded one of his wounds.

"This one is infected," the man said more for his benefit than for his slave's. "It will need to be cleaned."

Ardeth turned his head to look over his shoulder just enough to see the man in the corner of his eye. His eyes conveyed his confusion and a spark of hope

"What did you expect?" his master explains as started to work on the infected wound. "I paid a small fortune for you, my Med-Jai, and I'm not about to let you die on me from a stupid infection." He worked in silence as Ardeth clenched and unclenched his hands, hiding the waves of pain from his treatment.

"A couple of these I'll have to watch," his master said as he moved from behind him. "Lay down." Once Ardeth was on his back, the man began his slow but thorough examination of the rest of his body. "I would hate to see the rest of their merchandise if you are any indication of how they treat the others. I doubt that many would last a fortnight."

"I believe I was a special case," Ardeth mumbled as he squeezed his eyes shut. He tensed once again as he felt the man's hands explore his body, searching for injuries. He could feel the bile rise up in the back of his throat as he felt the hands linger in places.

After the man had probed and treated a number of wounds he stood up and walked away from where Ardeth lay. "Get dressed," he ordered as he threw some grayish brown clothes at him.

Gingerly Ardeth began to dress, hissing occasionally when his movements pulled on his injuries.

Out of the corner of his eyes Ardeth was able to watch as his owner gathered up the last remaining items, however Ardeth noticed that he missed a few pieces of the remains of Ardeth's black clothing. "Out," he commanded with a nod of his head.

Stumbling out of the tent, Ardeth was met by the early morning light, the temperature just beginning to rise. "There's food by the fire. Eat your fill. We won't be stopping till just before nightfall," the master explained as he started to dismantle the tent, packing it away for the camels. Hobbling over to the fire, Ardeth knelt down next to a small pot full of a brownish white gruel, which was left to cool.

The nosily growls from his stomach was the final deciding point as Ardeth dug into the disgusting looking mixture. He eyed the gruel dubiously before shoveling a spoonful of the paste like subsistence into his mouth.

He tried to hold in a grimace, but was far from successful. 'Gruel' was the perfect word to describe the concoction in his hands. But it was either eat it or starve, so he forces himself to eat as much of it as he could. As he stripped the last of the gruel out of the bowl, he found the man a few feet away from him, watching him eat.

"Can you cook?" the man asked, his hand out for the bowl.

Ardeth looked down at the bowl then back up at his owner. "Better than you can if that was an indication of your abilities."

The master chuckled in surprise. "Good. Perhaps I'll let you cook when you're healed a bit more," he replied as he cleaned the bowl in the sand. "It's time to go, my prize," he said with a nod towards the camel.

Climbing to his feet, Ardeth growled, "My name is Ardeth Bay."

His master's eyes narrowed as he stared at his slave. "Your name was Ardeth Bay when you were a free man. But you belong to me now and I will call you whatever I please. And right now it pleases me to call you my prize."

~*~

Ardeth was awakened in the same manner the next morning.

"Take your clothes off."

Gritting his teeth, Ardeth underwent the same humiliating processed from yesterday. His lips curled back in a snarl as he felt the man's hands once again on his body. He shook under the effort it took not to attack and beat this man for the humiliation he endured.

"Once you're dressed come outside," the man said as he walked out of the tent.

They started off in the direction of Libya, after a meal of gruel.

"You dreamt again last night," the master stated as he rode next to the Med-Jai. "You kept calling out one name. O'Connell. It was the same name from the night before."

Ardeth keep his eyes on the horizon never allowing his face to betray any emotion.

"Who is this O'Connell? From your moans and cries at night, this person is very important to you." His eyes twinkled with an evil glee from behind his scarf. "Is this person male or female?"

Ardeth keeps his jaw clenched tight as his master continued his probing questions. "Come, my prize, answer my question. Is this O'Connell a man or a woman?" He asked, bringing his camel closer to Ardeth's, their legs bumping as they rode side by side.

Ardeth's nostril's flared in anger as the man continued to press him for answers. "Perhaps you are ashamed of your relationship with this O'Connell and that is why you do not answer." Out of the corner of his eye, Ardeth can see his owner watching him, studying his reaction to the questions.

"Every night when you wake you are drenched in sweat, breathing like you had raced for your life and lost. Every night you scream out that name." The master said to himself as he worked out what he knew about his slave. "No, O'Connell is not a woman. A man. Someone you have fought side by side with. Someone you trust to guard your back, to guard your life and your soul. An English man or perhaps an American. He must be a strong warrior to be befriended by a Med-Jai. Or is there more than just friendship?" The master cooed as he watched his captive closely. "Maybe this man is your soul mate. Your lover?"

"NO!" Ardeth spat out with a vengeance turning in his seat to glare at the man.

"Finally my prize speaks!!!" The master threw back his head; his laughter filled the air. "So he is not your lover but I can tell you this, my prize, this O'Connell holds a special place in your heart and in your soul. A very special place indeed."

Silence descended between the two men as they rode, both lost in their own thoughts. "Rick? The first night you call out for a Rick," the master suddenly spoke, urging his camel closer to Ardeth's once again. "Would your friend be a Rick O'Connell, Richard O'Connell?" The master grabbed Ardeth's arm, forcing him to look at him, demanding an answer.

Ardeth's eyes narrowed as the hand on his arm tighten. "He's a tall khawaaga, with light-hair and bluish green eyes. A taste for dynamite and for guns." The man's eyes studied Ardeth for a reaction to his description of Rick. "And a tattoo, a tattoo on his right wrist. Yes." The master hissed as Ardeth's body unconsciously betrayed his friend, giving this man his answers he seeks. "Richard O'Connell," He repeated as he released the Med-jai's arm and moved his camel farther away. "A name I haven't heard in years."

"Rick O'Connell." The name rolled off the man's tongue, as he tasted the name in pleasure. "I still had many things left to break in that man before he left me." The man turned towards Ardeth. "Perhaps, my Med-Jai, he will return to me. Perhaps your calling to him will bring him back to me once again."

Ardeth's eyes widened at the words from this man, and he watched as his Master spurred his camel slightly ahead of him. His evil laughter echoed in the Med-Jai's ears. Grinding his teeth together, his hatred for this man renewed, Ardeth glared at the back of the man's head, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to hide the hatred he felt toward this man, toward the man that had hurt his friend before and wants to again.

The Master turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at his slave. Seeing the muscle twitch in Ardeth's jaw and the hatred in his eyes, the man chuckled even more. "I wonder what I can break in you, my Med-Jai. Perhaps I will break your pride. That was one thing he would never let me break in him," he said as before turning his back on Ardeth.

A determined look entered Ardeth's eyes as he glared at the man who rode ahead of him. With a barely perceived nod of his head in determination, Ardeth turned his attention to the leather strap that bound his hands together.

~*~

Ardeth knelt in the cooling desert sand; a blank look on his face and in his eyes, as his owner piled dried animal dung for a fire. "If we ride hard tomorrow will we be at our goal," the master said, breaking the silence that had fallen since their discussion about O'Connell. "I'll be able to deal with you better there."

The master continued his work, never noticing as Ardeth slowly began to unwind the leather strap from his wrists. Wrapping the strap around his hands, Ardeth allowed his eyes to roam over to the man, waiting for just the right moment.

Suddenly he sprang into action; slipping the leather strap over the man's head and around his neck. Ardeth leaned back; pulling the strap tight against the man's throat, his knee in the middle of the man's back pushing him tighter into the strap.

The man's hands clawed desperately at his throat, fighting against Ardeth as he tried to draw in a breath. Suddenly the man's right arm reached back and grasped Ardeth's leg, his finger's digging into Ardeth's half-healed wounds.

Ardeth gasped in pain as the fingers dug deeper into his flesh. "Fa'inn ma'Habba 'Allah!" Ardeth cried out as pain laced through his body. His grasp on the strap loosened enough that his owner was able to slip his fingers under the piece of leather and pull it away from his throat enough to allow him to breathe.

"Bastard!" the Master cursed in a horsed voice as he renewed his struggles against the Med-Jai. Realizing what the man was doing Ardeth tightened his grip on the leather trying to pull it tight once again.

As Ardeth struggled to twist the strap even tighter, to his amazement, the lean body struggling against his chest suddenly spun around, twisting the leather tighter; but as the Master's body came around, one knee smashed with manic strength right into Ardeth's groin.

Ardeth's scream echoed across the desert as his owner's knee collided with Ardeth's manhood. His eyes rolled up into his head as his body twitched in pain before collapsing onto his side. Ripping the leather strap from his throat, the Master gasped for breath as he stared evilly down at the Med-jai who had curled up in a ball.

Struggling to his feet, the Master rubbed his hand over his sore neck. "God damn bastard after all I've done for you," he cursed as he used his foot to kick Ardeth onto his back. He pried Ardeth's hands away from were they protectively cupped his injured manhood. Retying Ardeth's hands together once again yanking the strap cruelly, he growled "And you fight like one of those pampered sissy British lords!"

"At least I fight with honor," Ardeth was able to cough out around the pain as he curled back into a ball again.

"To hell with honor," the Master said as he glared down at the Med-Jai. "I was fighting for my life." The master stumbled away from Ardeth, allowing him to stay curled around his hurt as the black curtain of night fell upon the camp.

~*~

Ardeth woke with a start; a hand covering his mouth. "Quiet. We have company," his master whispered in his ear. "I think you'll enjoy their company less than mine," he explained as he busily untied his slave.

" Understand this Med-Jai." The hilt of a knife was suddenly pressed into Ardeth's hand. "I will kill you myself before I allow them to possess you."

~*~*~*~

Khawaaga - foreigner

Fa'inn ma'Habba 'Allah - For the love of Allah