Answers are further into the story, Cerasi5 ;-) And thanks for reviewing.

Aren't you too fast, Agent Jaid? I'm afraid the rest of the story has not yet formed entirely in my head, let alone on my computer.

KissSpooky, thank you very much for you kind words, though I fail to understand where you see talent here. But probably it's just me. :D

I was actually going to post this on Friday, but you know what has happened to the site… So here it is now.

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The green sphere of Amaltea loomed in the front viewport of the abductor's ship. Smiling a small wistful smile at the sight of his homeplanet, the middle-aged pilot pulled the lever and lowered the ship into the atmosphere. The man sitting in the copilot's chair didn't share his counterpart's joy, though. On contrary, his tanned face framed with coal black unruly hair was rather grim.

"What's all that happiness about?" he finally uttered in an irritated and gruff voice, apparently unable to stand the pilot's smiling face anymore.

"It's my home, Taruin," the pilot answered, undeterred.

"So what?" the man called Taruin asked, rubbing his forehead tiredly. The gesture held some sort of disgust, as if he wasn't all too happy about what was going on, and what they were doing in particular.

The pilot opened his mouth to answer, but quickly shut it as another man entered the cockpit. The new arrival looked briefly outside through the front viewport with a straight face that held no emotion. He then averted his attention to the other two men.

"Taruin, go check on our prisoner," he ordered in a voice that bore no objections.

Wincing a bit, Taruin rose from his seat and with a barely audible sigh left the cockpit. Two sharp eyes followed him until the door hissed closed, then the eyes shifted to the pilot, who appeared rather uncomfortable and tried to avoid looking at the other man, concentrating instead on the panels around him.

"He's too soft, a weakling," the standing man stated in an unflappable voice that held a tint of metal in it. Surely he was used to commanding people. The pilot continued staring at the front viewport and the control panel before him. "We'll have to get rid of him as soon as we don't need him any longer," the man added and he, too, fixed his gaze on the front viewport.

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Taruin entered the cargo hold of their ship and immediately felt tension rise in him as he saw the two eyes watching him from the dusk of the small square room. The eyes glistened in the poor light of a single dull bulbous lamp that hung right under the ceiling. The man felt uneasiness rush through him in waves under the scrutiny of those eyes. They watched him calmly, no fear showed in them, no curiosity, nothing at all. And it scared him more than he would ever admit. He was a brave man, but he was afraid of this boy, of his eyes devoid of any emotion.

When they had kidnapped him, the boy didn't even struggle. He had simply let them take him away, not sparing a glance in the direction of the man who lay sprawled on the floor with a bloody gash on his head. Taruin had been told they were to abduct a young man, had been told that there could be a fight of some sort, and he had been ready for that. But he wasn't ready for this soundless acceptance, and it scared the hell out of him.

"Well… hello there," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

The boy continued to stare at him silently with the eyes dark in the dimness of the room.

Unnerved, Taruin rubbed his hands apprehensively. "M-maybe you are hungry?" he asked.

Silence.

This intent look was the most frightening thing Taruin had seen in his entire life. He caught himself thinking that he would rather face five armed men than this single defenseless boy.

Suddenly the young man shifted slightly, breaking the spell, and turned from a chilling living statue into a vulnerable child right before Taruin's eyes. The man felt pity swell in him, watering his eyes - pity for this poor boy. He remembered his own children - a fifteen-year-old son and a ten-year-old daughter. He imagined his own son bound, thrown on a dirty floor in a tiny cell, treated like a slave or worse. The image made his knees go weak.

 No, they promised they won't hurt them! They promised they will take care of them!  The sight of the vulnerable boy brought new pain to the thought of his own family, held captive. The thought clawed his mind like a wounded wild bird trapped in a cage.  Can their word be true? Can I trust they will keep it?  He had no guarantees. There was no honor in his 'employers'. The image of his son from his memory melted into the image of the boy in front of him.

The boy was curled up on the floor in a bundle. His hands and ankles were bound tightly, to the point of cutting the tender skin. An electric collar that coiled around his neck like some strict-styled yet exotic necklace sparkled quietly with matte metallic glow in the dimness of the cargo hold. The boy stared aimlessly at the wall with empty eyes.

"Poor kid," Taruin mumbled, kneeling beside the captive. With quivering hands he loosened the binds a bit, praying that no one would come in to see this. He knew that doing this he risked his head and, more importantly, he risked his his children's and wife's lives. But he couldn't stop himself, he knew - was certain though he couldn't even start to imagine where that conviction came from - that he was doing the right thing.

Now that he was this near and could take a closer look at the boy, all Taruin's his fear gone, replaced with sympathy.  Maybe he's ill?  Taruin wondered. The boy was too still, too silent…

"Are you hungry?" the man asked, not really expecting any answer since he never got one before.

"No."

The curt response was spoken in a soft mild voice, but it sounded almost deafening in the silence that was broken only by the low dull growl of the ship's engines. Taruin jumped at the unexpected sound and backed from the boy. The other remained motionless; his eyes still staring at the opposite wall. Taruin glanced into them apprehensively, but didn't see anything apart from his own hazy reflection.

A mild jerk announced their landing onto the planet. Taruin scrambled onto his feet hastily, throwing occasional wary yet sympathetic glances at the boy. The young man was still like rock, unnaturally still. Taruin wasn't sure if the boy even noticed their landing. Taruin wasn't sure about anything. He couldn't understand what was going on and had no desire to unravel this mystery. The only thing he wanted was to be on the other side of the galaxy.

Pausing at the door he turned. "I'll umm… go now," he said uncertainly.

The lifeless eyes shifted to rest on him, and for a moment he thought he saw a tiny sparkle in them. But no, it was only his imagination.

With a sigh Taruin left for the cockpit. Whatever they wanted with this boy was clearly not good for him. And the more he thought of it the more he wanted to help. But he was as bound as the boy was.

*********************

Frozen in his place Obi-Wan stood, his eyes locked with the other two eyes - one black, empty, and dead, the other green and completely insane. All his thoughts had left him in a tangled torrent of fear.

For a moment - a moment of bone-chilling coldness and deafening silence when even the birds seemed to stop singing - their eyes stayed locked, as though the man was studying Obi-Wan curiously, looking through his eyes into his very soul. Somehow Obi-Wan knew that this man possessed unimaginable powers, and it seemed ridiculous to think that the man might use them on some deed in the name of goodness.

Cold silence instilled in the hot, suffocating summer air of the valley, and everything stopped to exist. Eternity squeezed itself into a moment, and moment stretched into eternity. Obi-Wan held his breath, feeling himself a puppet in the man's hands. He didn't know what the other would do to him, but was perfectly aware that he had nothing to put up against this man, against his powers. Not even the Force would help him. And then...

... then the bright green mad eye winked at him playfully, and the man turned away, breaking eye contact. Obi-Wan took a breath that sounded more like a gasp. Cold tendrils of sharp fear that had him in their clutches slowly started to creep away, letting the warmth of the summer evening fill the boy's limbs.

A hand lowered onto his right shoulder causing Obi-Wan to jump in surprise. He quickly turned his head to see a tall man, wearing a ridiculous checkered jacket, gray straight pants and small round hat.

"Don't you worry, fellow," the bizarre man said in a suddenly high-pitched, though definitely male voice.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short by another hand that lowered onto his left shoulder.

"We don't mean you any harm," the soothing baritone of another man said. This man looked even more ridiculous than the first one - short, with red disheveled hair and a torn jacket. But his eyes... They were black as a bottomless abyss, leading to nowhere but darkness.

"Asasello and I will show you the way back to your home," the first man spoke, making odd faces all the while as though he couldn't keep his face straight.

"But why?" Obi-Wan asked, unable to contain his curiosity, tired of all the mysteries that swirled around him like a bunch of hungry fish around their prey.

"Why?!" the checkered man laughed loudly, startling birds on the nearby tree. "He asks 'why'?!" He slapped himself on his knees as though this was the funniest question he had ever heard.

"Because Master Woland* told us to," the man called Asasello explained patiently, paying no attention to his colleague, who continued to writhe in the fits of wild laughter.

"But why would he do such a thing?" Obi-Wan asked, deciding to follow the example and ignore the laughing man. To his surprise the checkered man answered instead of Asasello.

"Because Lady Fate has some plans for you. And since Mister Woland won the last set they played in poker he decided to make her a little favour, bringing you back to where you belong. Are you delighted?"

Obi-Wan wasn't sure how to respond. The two men took him under his arms and started to lead him straight into a tree.

"Uh, are you sure we should go that way?" Obi-Wan asked his unexpected companions. "There's a tree and..."

"Haven't you learned anything?" the checkered man interrupted, making a mockingly stern face. He clicked his fingers loudly, and the tree disappeared. "See? There's no tree. You see just what you want to see."

The alley was starting to get crowded. The Padawan looked around to gauge the reaction of people around them to the sudden disappearance of the tree. To his surprised no one even looked the way of the weird trio as though they didn't exist.

Obi-Wan looked at both men, who accompanied him, comparing them. They both seemed to have some kind of power - nothing compared to the power of that man, Woland, but power nevertheless. Power no human possessed. But were they really human? Obi-Wan had a strong feeling they were not. The checkered man smiled at him with a tight smile and nodded. Looking at him Obi-Wan thought that for a moment he saw sadness lurking deep in his eyes.

"Drink this," Asasello suddenly said, forcing a large cup into Obi-Wan's hands. The young man never noticed where Asasello had gotten it from.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked a bit suspiciously, sniffing the hot spicy aroma.

"Not a poison, you bet," the checkered one laughed.

"Just drink it," Asasello said in a plain voice, which, though, implied no further discussion.

Looking suspiciously at the dirty brown drink in the cup, Obi-Wan took a tentative sip... and immediately spit it out in disgust.

"It tastes like... like cockroaches with slugs!" he exclaimed.

"Have you ever tasted them to recognize them this easily?" the checkered man asked and doubled in laughter.

"Fagot, make it drinkable," Asasello ordered.

"Whatever you say, buddy." Never stopping to laugh - Obi-Wan wasn't even sure if he paused to take a breath - the man clicked his fingers loudly. The action produced a flash of pale green and... nothing happened.

"Damn! I need more practice!" Fagot exclaimed in an over complaining voice. Obi-Wan got an impression he was ready to burst into tears, but his eyes were still laughing.

"Stop playing a clown and make it right." Asasello's voice acquired a menacing tint to it.

"OK, OK." Another click of fingers, another flash - this time much brighter. Obi-Wan almost dropped the cup as it suddenly became hot. But next moment it was cool again.

"Cherry," Fagot said with satisfaction.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure what 'cherry' was. Under the stern gaze - almost glare - of Asasello he sipped tentatively at the drink. To his surprise it tasted rather good. He downed the cup. As soon as the last drop of liquid rolled from the cup onto his lips the cup disappeared, causing him clutch an empty air. He looked at his empty hand curiously but didn't say anything.

"Let's not waste any more time," Asasello said coldly and took Obi-Wan's left elbow.

Fagot swirled a cane that mysteriously appeared in his hand and drew a line on the dirty ground. Immediately the line started to glow with a pale white light. Having done this Fagot put the cane into his pocket. The pocket was much too small for something that size, but Obi-Wan, taught by experience, didn't comment on it. He simply tried to be not too surprised.

Together they crossed the line, and the warm summer evening turned into familiar cold place of nothingness. But this time Obi-Wan wasn't alone here. He glanced at his companions - and almost recoiled. The ridiculous man called Fagot changed drastically. Now the man to the right from Obi-Wan was a gloomy knight, dressed in violet. His face looked like it never knew a smile. To the right from Obi-Wan was someone even worse. His shining armor was almost blinding. Both of his eyes were empty and black. A killer demon - was the only way Obi-Wan could call him.

"He's learning to see things as they are, huh?" Fagot said looking at Obi-Wan's suddenly pale face.

Obi-Wan gulped. He wished that their journey would end as soon as possible. He wasn't sure how much of this he could take before going insane.

And abruptly it all came to an end. Obi-Wan and his companions - back in their less frightening appearances - stood on the threshold of a small room Obi-Wan didn't recognize. It took him a while to realize they were not standing on the threshold or rather inside the wall. But what really threw him off balance was… himself, sitting on the dirty floor with a bowed head.

"So what are you waiting for?" Fagot asked, nudging the young man a little.

Hesitantly Obi-Wan took a step forward.  What if it doesn't work? Am I… like a ghost now? What if I stay like this forever?  He looked back at Asasello and Fagot as though seeking some reassurance. Fagot nodded. Obi-Wan took another step forward, then sat down next to his copy, or rather his body.

"How do I do this?" he asked, looking at himself, curiosity winning over fear.

"Shift so that you are at the same place as he is," Asasello supplied in a plain tone.

Obi-Wan shifted a bit and raised his head to look once again at his weird companions. Then he moved into the same pose his body had.

 Please, please, make it work!  he pleaded silently.

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* Woland as a character belongs to Bulgakov