Chapter 14

She awake to feel his weight above her, his head low over her throat. But it was not just his physical proximity that immediately set her trembling. It was the sense across her skin of syrup dripping over her flesh and soaking into her lungs. She couldn't move in her terror as he leaned back, grinning down at her. And that's when she saw his eyes.

They were black. Her heart clenched as she managed one small word.

"Captain?"

The smile he gave was cruel, but the deadness in his eyes was what horrified her. There was no man in those eyes. The thing before her was all monster.

"Aye, princess, that I am," he sneered, and she could do nothing as his hand reached for her skirt. She managed to get her eyes closed and held her breath, waiting. So she was shocked when the harsh, demanding touch she was expecting never came.

The room was silent. Her eyes fluttered open in anxious confusion, only to flinch back. He was still above her, and the expression of black hatred on his face made her try to push herself farther into the bed. His fury was a palpable thing, she could almost hear it hissing and spitting around her.

But then she heard the ship begin to creak and moan, swaying slightly. And just as before when he had left the cabin, she thought she saw a shadow around him, swirling, like a sea fog in the morning sun. She didn't want to move for fear of setting him off again, but she wanted to get away from him, still and seething above her.

She shifted her hands to try and push herself towards the head board and out from under him when she accidentally brushed his hand with her own. She froze, her eyes snapping back to his face, trying to anticipate what the contact would do, when she saw it. A black form shimmering around them, solidified into a massive writhing snake, firmly wrapped about the body of the man before her, tight about his neck and constricting his chest. But more than that- she felt it, the cold, cloying sensation of drowning, the tightness about her chest.

So caught up in the sudden vision before her that she almost missed his gasping breath. She flinched again at the sudden sound, eyes drawn from the specter above him to his face. She watched with rapt attention as his brows pulled down and his face began to turn red, the tendons and veins in his temples and neck standing out, as if he was struggling with a mighty weight. But most of all, she noticed his eyes, which seemed to be lightening.

Please little one, help him.

It was softer than the memory of a thought as it brushed her mind. She couldn't tell if it was her own thought or if some strange specter like the one above him had whispered it to her. But she could see that demon still coiled about him, and watched he struggled.

She wanted to obey the words, to sooth his brow, as she had done the first night, but she was still so afraid. He was still above her, had power over her in every aspect, and she was all alone. There was a demon, its hatred toward her so potent she could feel it in her veins. What could she do?

For your family, you must be strong.

Again, softer than a sigh, the thought rolled into her and, and coiled about her heart, stirring something in her. She was shocked at her own upwelling of courage, the surge of warmth and strength that flowed through her. Not knowing what else to do, she raised a shaky hand towards his face.

The things above him hissed and spit and his face contorted, as if he was in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. It made her freeze up, almost overwhelmed with fear, but the warmth within practically compelled her to reach out.

Light as a feather, her fingers brushed his cheek, and the contact he let out another strangled gasp of pain, his whole body shaking with tension. But despite the tautness of his body, the gentleness with which he turned his face into their contact was what gave her the courage to press her palm to his face, smoothing the lines of pain at the corner of his eye. He pushed his face more deeply against her hand, even as he remained above her on the bed, shaking with tension.

Neither moved, but as the seconds passed she began to hear it.

Take her you fool! You are weak. You are a coward! Take and command what s rightfully yours. Be the master. Destroy her. Consume her. Satisfy the craving you feel. Gorge yourself on her innocence. MASTER HER.

The voice was the sound of hearts breaking and mountains collapsing. It was the voice of the poisonous fog when it rolled in from the marshes. It was the sound of battle and the cry of plague. It conjured images of pain and suffering, loneliness and loss. Emptiness. And then she could see.

A terrified, blue eyed child standing on an abyss, waiting for someone to come for him, and knowing they never would, while within, the darkness beckoned. He was so close to giving in and falling over the edge, not quite sure if he should take the step, even as the tendrils of darkness wrapped around his legs and drew him closer to the abyss.

She needed to call him back, needed to bring him away from the chasm. But the name she knew now, the cloak and mask he wore upon his form to conceal himself. A costume, a charade, a lie. She needed to call him back. Before he fell.

He was not a captain. He was not a pirate. He was not the dark one. He was just a man. Just a man.

"Killian," she whispered, her thumb still lightly caressing his cheek, not sure if she was calling him back or begging him to stop.

He blinked, and then suddenly his eyes were the blue of a summer's day once again. He stared down at her for one moment before his face suddenly contorted in horror. He jerked back so hard that he threw himself bodily from the bed, where he continued to scramble backward, trying to get as far from her as he could, crashing into the desk and one of the table chairs as he went.

He ended up clear across the room, hunched against the wood paneling by the door, clutching at himself like his skin was going to slide away if he didn't hold on to it. She was still trying to recover from her fear, he hands still shaking and her heart still racing, but under her skin was the strangest sensation, like her skin was humming. The room had fallen silent again, the stifling air disturbed by her shallow breath and his choking gasps.

She studied him from her perch across the room, noting that the strange shadow that had loomed over him was gone and the sensation of drowning slowly had passed. He had stilled in his frantic clawing at his skin, but now he was simply curled up, hand and hook covering his head, as if he were trying to take up as little space as possible. She could not hear sobs but his shoulders were jerking and his whole body was shaking.

She wanted to see if he was alright, if the demon she had seen had left him, but she was terrified to get close to him. She didn't want to provoke another attack, whether he meant to or not. So she whispered softly across the space.

"Captain?"

His whole body jerked at the sound, his hands clenching .

"I am so sorry lass," came his broken voice, before he was consumed in a cloud of smoke. "I am so sorry."