George watched as the sun spilled onto the mountains. Gold seeped onto the
balcony he stood upon, washing it in it's bright color. He was happy,
content, watching over his own fiefdom, his family still asleep in their
beds. Everything was perfect, everything was now fine, his life was
fulfilled and he, finally, happy.
He felt a soft hand on his, weight on his shoulder, and his wife's face beside him. He hadn't heard her get up, but was grateful for her presence, for her being there beside him. Their love was something no one could break, a love that he had wanted all his life, and no king, even the one of his own country, would destroy it. His eyes met the purple, and before she could smile, he was kissing her.
Then she was gone.
For a second, all George could see was darkness, all he felt was darkness. Then the longing cut thought it, the want for skin, any skin to be on his, to feel the pleasure run along him, the pain. And he didn't care who it was, who was doing what, as long it fed the hunger. For countless moments, all he could feel was the thirst for lust, for touch.
Relief ran through him, the pleasure was in him. He let himself feel it, be it, without thinking, without even being him. He was only the feeling, only the intense heat that coursed through his veins. For minutes, he couldn't sense anything else. At last, his eyes cleared, his whole body shuttered from the rush and the high dropped, leaving him exhausted. When his senses cleared, he saw the one he was still in, a girl, young, blonde, beautiful. She was chained to the bed, naked, there solely for George's use. His mind told him to turn and leave, this wasn't Alanna, wasn't his wife. But he didn't feel as though it was wrong, as though it didn't mean anything. This chained beauty felt so much better then the bitch who usually occupied him. She screamed, and he realized that she had been screaming for a long time now. It was pain, the screams came from pain, and this time, he thrust into her, but not because he needed it, but because he wanted to hurt her, wanted her to feel it. To love it and hate it, to despise him and want him.
It was gone then, and in it's place the blackness. And the knowledge of what he had done, what he had felt. He didn't know what to do, to scream or run, or what was happening.
I have to admit, that was quit entertaining. You are much easier then your wife
At last, George had something to turn his rage against. But what it was, he couldn't understand, it was as much in him as it was something different.
When I'm done, you'll see what I am, but for now, there's so much more fun to have
Overcome by confusion, he only faintly grasped at the idea that the thing had read his thoughts.
"Fun?" George whispered the words, not wanting to know, not wanting to believe any of this.
Yes, fun
And then he was standing with a sword in his hand, but couldn't move. In front of him lay Alanna, his mother, Myles, all those he was close to, were hanging by their feet, hands tied behind their back. Some were crying, some screaming curses in his name. When he realized he could move, he took the blade, and slaughtered an old friend. The man screamed as he died, and George was disappointed he had ended the life so fast. On the next body, his ex girlfriend, he made sure to take longer, so that her screams drowned out the others. He killed all of them, except one, enjoying their pain. And when the blood drenched the floors, he turned his sights to the one still living. Alanna, who glared at him like he was the source of all her pain, of the all her suffering. And he knew he was. Without thinking, he walked towered her, watching the silver blade glisten in the faint light. When he was up to her, he knelt down, so he was eye level.
"I should of done this a long time ago." He re griped the sword and put it so it was straight in front of her. Only her eyes betrayed her, screaming with fear. George slid the blade down her stomach, the across, then through and cut her legs and arms and broke her spine. And still she was alive, screaming, and he drank it.
"I believe you enjoyed that." Dizziness overwhelmed George, there was no blood on him, which he couldn't believe, hadn't he just killed..."
"Gods! No, no, I didn't, that wasn't.. me, not how could I..." He struggled against the chain that held his arms above his head, and screamed and cried. Could still hear the screams, the hate...
"But you did." The voice came from the man who had spoken before. He gave a mocking bow, blond hair falling into eyes, and left George alone in darkness. + + *** + + Jonathan stood over the sleeping Alanna, watching her steady breathing. Her red hair falling into her cleavage, and he wanted to brush it away, but kept from it. Talon hadn't yet given him orders, and to punished by Talon was not something he wished for. There was a collar binding her to the bed, silver and glistening in the streamed light. Jonathan had no more desire to see her chained up, he couldn't ever remember why he had wanted her to, ever. Why he had wanted to hurt her, to break her. But it had felt so good, so amazing..
He took the collar in his hands and streamed his gift through it, until it broke, shattering around her pale neck. Picking up the pieces, he accidentally hit her shoulder, lightly, but enough to wake her up. At first he waited on bated breath as she struggled awake, slowly walking toward the door. When her eyes opened and met his, she let out a silent scream and shivered. Alanna, his champion, his friend, hated him. Jonathan was about to say something, try to fix it, try to explain to her why he had been doing it, but couldn't grasp onto why he had. That, and he felt no need to apologize, he felt as though he hadn't done anything wrong, though, he knew he had. The door opened and Alanna's eyes flickered toward two figures; Talon and Raoul.
"Jonathan, come here." The man, Talon said distantly, eyes on the king. Jonathan nodded and came to kneel by him.
Talon shook his head. "Stand up you idiot." Jonathan nodded and stood, having to look up to see the man. The taller man gazed into the kings eyes, glazed over in a trance that Jonathan was as well caught in. Silence only last a few seconds, as Jonathan stumbled back, dizzy and lost. When he regained his composure he met the mans eye's again, but this time it was with hate, not blind trust.
"I'll kill you, I'll make sure that every warrior in the kingdom of Tortall is set on your destruction. You will not be able to do what you did to me, what you made me do, ever again here." The king's words sounded sure, sounded like the real Jonathan that Alanna had thought gone.
"No, actually, you won't." Talon nodded to the knight that had stood behind him. Drawing his long sword, Raoul drew it across his kinds throat before he could respond to the attack. Coughing on his own blood, Jonathan buckled and fell to the ground.
Raoul went for the door and Talon followed suit, but turned when he heard the whimper from Alanna. "Don't worry my sweet, I'll have the body removed soon, and maybe I'll even let you go." With that he went through the door and closed it behind him.
Alanna moved off the bed in a speed she didn't know she had the energy for. Taking her old lover in her arms, she tried to call upon her gift, trying to force the wound to heal. But as she stared into his death glazed eyes, she couldn't bring herself to call upon all her magic. She hated him with everything in her, he deserved to die.
He clutched her hand, but it wasn't strong, the blood loss was getting to him. "Alanna.. I'm so sorry.."
The Lioness squeezed the hand tighter and tried to look past the pain he had caused her. He had been her friend, once, and something was going on, there was an explanation for this, for all of this. She concentrated harder, closing her eyes and letting the power flow from her to him. At last, when she had only enough energy to keep from passing out, she caustically opened her eyes, to see a scar where the cut had been, and her king breathing heavily.
"Alanna." Jonathan bit his lip as she froze, body going rigid. "You have to understand... Mithros, I can't believe I did that." The king felt a tear roll down his face, memories of the same body that was next to him coming much to strongly. "Alanna, by the gods I wasn't in control of myself, it was Talon, I didn't want to! You have to believe me, I didn't want to!" He was sobbing, crying, curled into a ball and Alanna didn't know what to do.
"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I didn't want to..." Alanna crawled over to him and stroked his hair, knowing he was speaking the truth. The man, Talon had done worse to her, and she didn't have a hard time believing that he was in charge of all this.
"It's all right Jon, just stop crying." She spoke the words hoarsely, nonchalantly and she knew they did little to help.
A/N You guys wanted Ralon or Jaren or Thom or Roger? ::shakes head:: It's my own made of character and no one can steal it! So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, the story should be coming to an end either next or after next chapter. Don't worry though, I promise for a good finish.
Whatever on the reviews, just review. Hope you all had a good holiday!
He felt a soft hand on his, weight on his shoulder, and his wife's face beside him. He hadn't heard her get up, but was grateful for her presence, for her being there beside him. Their love was something no one could break, a love that he had wanted all his life, and no king, even the one of his own country, would destroy it. His eyes met the purple, and before she could smile, he was kissing her.
Then she was gone.
For a second, all George could see was darkness, all he felt was darkness. Then the longing cut thought it, the want for skin, any skin to be on his, to feel the pleasure run along him, the pain. And he didn't care who it was, who was doing what, as long it fed the hunger. For countless moments, all he could feel was the thirst for lust, for touch.
Relief ran through him, the pleasure was in him. He let himself feel it, be it, without thinking, without even being him. He was only the feeling, only the intense heat that coursed through his veins. For minutes, he couldn't sense anything else. At last, his eyes cleared, his whole body shuttered from the rush and the high dropped, leaving him exhausted. When his senses cleared, he saw the one he was still in, a girl, young, blonde, beautiful. She was chained to the bed, naked, there solely for George's use. His mind told him to turn and leave, this wasn't Alanna, wasn't his wife. But he didn't feel as though it was wrong, as though it didn't mean anything. This chained beauty felt so much better then the bitch who usually occupied him. She screamed, and he realized that she had been screaming for a long time now. It was pain, the screams came from pain, and this time, he thrust into her, but not because he needed it, but because he wanted to hurt her, wanted her to feel it. To love it and hate it, to despise him and want him.
It was gone then, and in it's place the blackness. And the knowledge of what he had done, what he had felt. He didn't know what to do, to scream or run, or what was happening.
I have to admit, that was quit entertaining. You are much easier then your wife
At last, George had something to turn his rage against. But what it was, he couldn't understand, it was as much in him as it was something different.
When I'm done, you'll see what I am, but for now, there's so much more fun to have
Overcome by confusion, he only faintly grasped at the idea that the thing had read his thoughts.
"Fun?" George whispered the words, not wanting to know, not wanting to believe any of this.
Yes, fun
And then he was standing with a sword in his hand, but couldn't move. In front of him lay Alanna, his mother, Myles, all those he was close to, were hanging by their feet, hands tied behind their back. Some were crying, some screaming curses in his name. When he realized he could move, he took the blade, and slaughtered an old friend. The man screamed as he died, and George was disappointed he had ended the life so fast. On the next body, his ex girlfriend, he made sure to take longer, so that her screams drowned out the others. He killed all of them, except one, enjoying their pain. And when the blood drenched the floors, he turned his sights to the one still living. Alanna, who glared at him like he was the source of all her pain, of the all her suffering. And he knew he was. Without thinking, he walked towered her, watching the silver blade glisten in the faint light. When he was up to her, he knelt down, so he was eye level.
"I should of done this a long time ago." He re griped the sword and put it so it was straight in front of her. Only her eyes betrayed her, screaming with fear. George slid the blade down her stomach, the across, then through and cut her legs and arms and broke her spine. And still she was alive, screaming, and he drank it.
"I believe you enjoyed that." Dizziness overwhelmed George, there was no blood on him, which he couldn't believe, hadn't he just killed..."
"Gods! No, no, I didn't, that wasn't.. me, not how could I..." He struggled against the chain that held his arms above his head, and screamed and cried. Could still hear the screams, the hate...
"But you did." The voice came from the man who had spoken before. He gave a mocking bow, blond hair falling into eyes, and left George alone in darkness. + + *** + + Jonathan stood over the sleeping Alanna, watching her steady breathing. Her red hair falling into her cleavage, and he wanted to brush it away, but kept from it. Talon hadn't yet given him orders, and to punished by Talon was not something he wished for. There was a collar binding her to the bed, silver and glistening in the streamed light. Jonathan had no more desire to see her chained up, he couldn't ever remember why he had wanted her to, ever. Why he had wanted to hurt her, to break her. But it had felt so good, so amazing..
He took the collar in his hands and streamed his gift through it, until it broke, shattering around her pale neck. Picking up the pieces, he accidentally hit her shoulder, lightly, but enough to wake her up. At first he waited on bated breath as she struggled awake, slowly walking toward the door. When her eyes opened and met his, she let out a silent scream and shivered. Alanna, his champion, his friend, hated him. Jonathan was about to say something, try to fix it, try to explain to her why he had been doing it, but couldn't grasp onto why he had. That, and he felt no need to apologize, he felt as though he hadn't done anything wrong, though, he knew he had. The door opened and Alanna's eyes flickered toward two figures; Talon and Raoul.
"Jonathan, come here." The man, Talon said distantly, eyes on the king. Jonathan nodded and came to kneel by him.
Talon shook his head. "Stand up you idiot." Jonathan nodded and stood, having to look up to see the man. The taller man gazed into the kings eyes, glazed over in a trance that Jonathan was as well caught in. Silence only last a few seconds, as Jonathan stumbled back, dizzy and lost. When he regained his composure he met the mans eye's again, but this time it was with hate, not blind trust.
"I'll kill you, I'll make sure that every warrior in the kingdom of Tortall is set on your destruction. You will not be able to do what you did to me, what you made me do, ever again here." The king's words sounded sure, sounded like the real Jonathan that Alanna had thought gone.
"No, actually, you won't." Talon nodded to the knight that had stood behind him. Drawing his long sword, Raoul drew it across his kinds throat before he could respond to the attack. Coughing on his own blood, Jonathan buckled and fell to the ground.
Raoul went for the door and Talon followed suit, but turned when he heard the whimper from Alanna. "Don't worry my sweet, I'll have the body removed soon, and maybe I'll even let you go." With that he went through the door and closed it behind him.
Alanna moved off the bed in a speed she didn't know she had the energy for. Taking her old lover in her arms, she tried to call upon her gift, trying to force the wound to heal. But as she stared into his death glazed eyes, she couldn't bring herself to call upon all her magic. She hated him with everything in her, he deserved to die.
He clutched her hand, but it wasn't strong, the blood loss was getting to him. "Alanna.. I'm so sorry.."
The Lioness squeezed the hand tighter and tried to look past the pain he had caused her. He had been her friend, once, and something was going on, there was an explanation for this, for all of this. She concentrated harder, closing her eyes and letting the power flow from her to him. At last, when she had only enough energy to keep from passing out, she caustically opened her eyes, to see a scar where the cut had been, and her king breathing heavily.
"Alanna." Jonathan bit his lip as she froze, body going rigid. "You have to understand... Mithros, I can't believe I did that." The king felt a tear roll down his face, memories of the same body that was next to him coming much to strongly. "Alanna, by the gods I wasn't in control of myself, it was Talon, I didn't want to! You have to believe me, I didn't want to!" He was sobbing, crying, curled into a ball and Alanna didn't know what to do.
"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I didn't want to..." Alanna crawled over to him and stroked his hair, knowing he was speaking the truth. The man, Talon had done worse to her, and she didn't have a hard time believing that he was in charge of all this.
"It's all right Jon, just stop crying." She spoke the words hoarsely, nonchalantly and she knew they did little to help.
A/N You guys wanted Ralon or Jaren or Thom or Roger? ::shakes head:: It's my own made of character and no one can steal it! So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, the story should be coming to an end either next or after next chapter. Don't worry though, I promise for a good finish.
Whatever on the reviews, just review. Hope you all had a good holiday!