Chapter 4:

Aha! We meet again! Here is chapter four for all you lovely readers out there! :) I realized that I didn't tell you guys the nick names I had for captain lahar and Doranbolt (Mest, if you prefer) so here it is: Dora-chan and Lala-chan XD

Fairy Tail's pov:

Things had finally started to become normal again a couple months after Lucy's funeral. The members started to fight and laugh and drink again, they were talking to each other and smiling. Even Master had a smile on sometimes. They were all moving on with their lives. Except for a few. Natsu's search became tireless, obsessive even, as did Grays'. They were rarely in the guild anymore and when they were present, they were avoided on most occasions. No one stood in their way, not after the last time someone told them to stop.

Flashback:

"Natsu! Gray! You have to stop! You're wearing yourself down! This isn't what Lucy would want!" That member went flying across the guild, smashing into the opposite wall with a fist-shaped burn and a frostbitten patch parallel to each other on his chest. He slid down, unconscious.

"Don't you dare tell us to give up," Natsu said quietly, the calm tone in his voice scaring those who weren't already.

"You have no right to tell us that," Gray finished in the same tone. As one, they moved to the mission board and tore down half of all available missions.

There was discord in the Fairy Tail family, a rupture in the dynamics, a rupture that no one had a clue as how to repair. Wendy stared sadly at the one seat at the bar no one dared to sit in. Her seat. We miss you Lucy, I hope you're happy in heaven.

Normal pov:

Lucy floated in and out of consciousness. Everything's so blurry. She hiccupped on a giggle that escape as she stared up at her new captors with a dazed expression. So fuzzy! Both captors glanced at each other as their prisoner started clapping her hands in a child-like manner.

"I think they gave her too much," one said to the other.

"Maybe, maybe not. She should be out like a light, not fucking clapping like a retard," his companion responded roughly. Lucy drew in a dramatic gasp.

"You said the 'f' word, that's a bad word. You shouldn't say that word," she stared at him with wide, shiny eyes, further startling her guards.

"Whatever, I don't have the patience for this bullshit," he said, turning so his back faced her. The other man stared a moment longer before following his lead. Lucy smiled as her fuzzy brain made everything seem to be made of glitter and rainbows. So pretty! She moved her hands to catch a hallucination in front of her.

Clank.

Her shackles rattled loudly as her arms shot forward. She cast a bewildered look towards the metal confinements. Why am I wearing bracelets? The fog that encroached her mind started to lift as her situation came back. Her head snapped left and right, taking in her new accommodations. The floor was gritty and damp and dank, roughly seven by five meters. The only source of light came from the fire torches outside the cell, casting the room in cold shadows. She could barely make out a mattress on the opposite side in the corner. Blinking rapidly, she looked down at herself. In place of her usual stained unwashed jumpsuit was an…outfit, of some kind. Metal plates, no bigger than a thumbprint, clung to her upper body in a hexagon pattern. The sleeves fell all the way to her wrists while the collar went all the way to her jaw before flaring out. A slim grey zipper, zipped all the way up, went down the middle and stopped at the edge of the strange top that was fashioned like a crop, exposing her mid-drift. A quick feel beneath revealed that her breasts were bound in bandages, inciting her anger at being touched in her sleep. A skirt made of mesh went from her hips to mid-thigh with slits in the sides, held in place by a simple brown belt. Again, beneath the skirt she was wrapped. On her hands were black wrist-length, fingerless gloves with rows of short metal spikes protruding from the knuckles and across the back of her hand. Brown knee length gladiator sandals encased her feet. And her head, she felt something on her head. Lifting her hand, she felt around and on it trying to distinguish what it was.

A headband of some sort, she wasn't sure. The band of metal was moulded to have a triangular dip in the centre with a stone set in the middle. It sat comfortably above her temples like a crown. Why…?

Footsteps increased in volume the closer they drew, breaking her from her thoughts. Rhythmically, they echoed ominously, reminding her all too well of the last time she'd heard footsteps like that. She looked at the door, fear and anticipation seeping from her pores. The guards stood up straighter and shuffled apart to allow whoever was there entry. She hoped it wasn't one of the demons, she'd take nearly anything over those two.

It started softly, just quick intakes of breath. A hulking silhouette stood before her inside the cell, broad shoulders shuddering like the flicker of the flames behind him. She scooted as far back away as she could with a fierce scowl, glaring daggers at the two glowing orbs of red that she assumed were his eyes. At this, he started laughing out loud. Heavy huffs of merriment broke the dreaded silence. However, there was no warmth in his laugh. His was that of a psychopath, someone so far gone there was no way to bring them back to humanity, to restore their humanity. Tremors wracked her body and she felt a strange pressure on her bladder. Had she not caught herself, she surely would have peed, the result of her instant and intense fear of the man in front of her. No, not a man. A monster. His laughter, though terrifying, began to convert her fear into annoyance. Beside her unbound feet was a metal tray, obviously used for food. In a brief spurt of bravery, or idiocy, she kicked the tray his way. It sailed in the air in slow motion. Her wide eyes tracked its journey as her stomach plummeted, wishing that she'd never conceived the idea in the first place. It collided with his chest with a solid 'thunk' before falling to the floor loudly. He ceased immediately. She kept the stubborn set to her jaw as she glared when inwardly, she was hoping she hadn't just sealed her fate. His eyes widened marginally. Those orbs swirled with amusement and surprise however, if she had looked closer, she would've seen the lusty glint he so carefully concealed.

"If all you came here to do was laugh then there is no reason why I should have to listen to it." From whence her strong voice came, she had no idea. His eyes squinted, like he was smiling.

"Perfect," his surprisingly high voice stated. It was a mix of warbled feminine voices with a dominant male one, giving her a massive hint as to what he was.

"My perfect pet. So strong. So full of spirit!" He was suddenly in her face, his natural scent surrounding her with its putrid odour of death. Even with as close as they were, she still couldn't see his face. He inhaled deeply, a growl rumbling from his chest. "I see what they did there. Nice touch," he murmured, talking to himself and confusing her. One insanely large hand gripped her jaw, coiled power running beneath the flesh. She had no doubt in her mind that with a simple squeeze, he could crush her skull. "I will enjoy breaking you, plaything," he murmured reverently. As quickly as he came, he went, striding out of the metal cage. He spun on his heel in a cheery manner, the soft glow of torchlight bringing to light his purple hair and a little bit of both sides of his face.

"Don't worry pet, no harm will come to you for now. Rest up! You have a big day tomorrow!" His head tilted to the side sporting a grin that made her want to gag. Natsu's smile. That's what he was imitating, what he was corrupting. Never mind that he'd basically dubbed her a toy, he shouldn't have that smile; he shouldn't smile at all. She reared up and struggled against her restraints, pulling at the rattling chains as they chaffed her wrists. "Wipe that smile from your face bastard!" She snarled. If anything, his smile grew. That acidulous feeling swamped her again. Stop smiling! How it happened was lost on her but one minute she was on her feet the next, she was on the ground with a burning cheek and a scraped shoulder.

"Don't be so mean kitten! I'm sure your mother taught you better than that!" He said in a teasing voice laced with warning. She swallowed her next words wisely and listened as he left her prison, whistling a tune she didn't care to remember. Another demon. She curled in on herself and cried in silence, comforting herself with memories of better times. Without her memories, she'd be lost for sure. She only hoped that they never faded from her mind.

Shane's pov:

The woman beneath him moaned as he pounded into her slick, semen-coated core. He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and with a final shout, he emptied yet another load into the whore. Barely panting, he flipped her over and withdrew his thick member completely before ramming it into her ass, delighting in her scream of pain. Giving her no time to adjust, he let his body go on autopilot as he let the sensations wash over him. The heat of her body, the silken grip she had on his dick, the building pressure in his balls.

Yet he still found her lacking.

She was brunette, not blonde. Her figure, though wholesome and curvy, wasn't as magnificent as hers was, neither were her breasts. Her eyes were black, not brown. Her name he couldn't remember while hers was a constant in his mind. Lucy. She made a great ass fuck, normal fuck? Not so much. I bet Lucy is tight, tighter than any woman I've ever had. He rammed in again savagely, images flashing in his minds eyes. The fire in her eyes, the feel of her lips on his, the sweet taste of her mouth. He felt the familiar burn return, swallowing him in a sea of fiery passion. He strove towards the brink of completion, increasing his pace to an inhumane rate with her face firmly in his mind. At the height of his pleasure, for a moment, he was able to imagine that it was her under him, that that fucker Norvu hadn't interrupted and that it was her mouth those sweet moans were coming from. Gripping the whore's waist, he slammed their bodies together brutally in short bursts before exploding.

"LUCY!"

He leaned over her and rested, the whole length of his body pressed against hers. He should be angry at her for taking up so much of his time, he should be out there tearing up the halls to finish what he started. Instead, he was here, holed up in his room with some woman he didn't give two shits about. Instead, he found himself wanting to take her willingly. Instead, he wanted to make her moan not scream, he wanted to make her smile not cry, he wanted to make her his. Sitting up swiftly, his brow furrowed, alarmed at the strange thoughts running rampant through his mind. That little bit of fear he felt back then came to light in full force. He sneered. What the fuck is up with you Hellfire?! Since when have we ever let a bitch get under our skin? Just kill her, kill her and be done with it. She isn't worth anything. She's a prisoner, a lab rat, no better than your common blow up doll. Don't let that thing crawl into your heart! Before his instincts could rebuke that statement, his anger rose, replacing the slip of fear that dared to settle itself in him. He was Shane fucking Hellfire for Christ's sake! He was a demon of hell, one of the nine generals (guardians of the nine circles of hell, Dante's Inferno reference) and he'd sooner let Lucifer skull fuck him than claim some little human as his own! He flipped woman onto her side, withdrawing while he lifted her leg onto his shoulder. Her hand flew out and gripped his forearm, panting heavily. "Let…me rest…please. Too much," she said airily, her arm falling limp as she nodded off. He gripped her hand and squeezed, crushing the fragile bones of each phalange. Her eyes flew wide open as she screamed in agony, trying to rip her broken hand away from his. He leaned forward, stretching her leg, and placed the tip of his cock at her abused entrance.

"We stop when I say we stop," he said evenly before plunging in with much more force than before, rattling her bones and electrifying her already overworked nerves. His mind was lost in a haze of pleasure but in the back of his head, in the furthest corner, there was a little voice that whispered.

Lies.

Norvu's pov:

Staring blankly at a wall while having your dick sucked wasn't your average afternoon. He sighed as he stared down at the woman between his knees. All wrong, she was all wrong. Wrong shade of blonde, wrong skin tone, wrong lips; wrong everything. Her head bobbed while her hands squeezed and massaged his balls. She was very skilled at her work. While her actions provided stimulating pleasure, it just wasn't enough. Worry bloomed in his chest when his dick refused to respond to the woman's ministrations anymore despite being balls deep in her throat. She withdrew it with a frown, gripping the base of his limp member with her tiny hand. He sighed, sporting a frown of his own. He waved her away without a word, tucking himself back into his pants before leaning back to close his eyes.

There she was, the most perfect person in the entire world.

She was back in his arms snuggling into him with that relieved face of hers, like he was her knight in shining armour. Foolish girl. He scowled. He tried to push the image from his mind but it stayed firmly rooted, teasing him, torturing him. The feel of her body, so tiny and perfect, was forever etched into his own. He could feel her now. Blood began to pool in his nether regions, his arousal growing the longer her dwelt on her. In his mind, she turned in his arms and hugged him tightly, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressing their sexes together in a most intimate position. A hand crept down his body to rub against the bulge in his pants, pretending that it was hers. She pressed a kiss to his neck, nibbling and biting her way down his throat to the edge of his shirt. She ripped it open, feathering kisses down his solid chest, tracing the lines of his muscles with the tip of her tongue. He groaned, his dick straining against its barrier. He flinched when he felt his hand pull his member out unbidden, long thick and pulsing with need. What is happening to me? What the hell is that girl?! He was tempted to stop right then and find out for himself. But he paused. The sexual tension that he carried around with him since meeting her felt like it was receiving relief. Just this once, he said finally. Gripping the head, he closed his eyes and dove back into the tantalising fantasy. She pushed him back onto the cot, smiling mischievously. Lucy ran her nails down his chest leaving angry red lines, his flesh breaking out in goose bumps while excitement coursed through his veins. The slight burn from the faux scratches fed the fire in him, his eyes ablaze with passion. That look reflected in her eyes. She traced the hem of his pants before she unzipped the fly, her hand darting in to bring out her prize. His hand started pumping. She gripped the head and pumped, from base to tip and back again. A shuddering sigh left him as he mirrored her ministrations, pearly drops of pre-cum leaking from the slit. She spread the substance with the thumb, using it to make her motions more fluid. She licked. He jerked in his seat, tightening his grip as he spiralled towards completion. Her mouth came down on him, sucking him into her hot cavern in one smooth motion. He imagined the heat of his hand was her mouth sucking down his meat. The pressure in his balls buckled, releasing in one long wave of continuous pleasure. With a loud groan, he came. Thick ropes of semen shot from his shaft to land on the floor. Panting, he milked the rest of his seed before once again, tucking it away. She swallowed it all down and smiled at him. He opened his eyes. Fuck.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes chapter four. As some of you know, I recently gave The Boss and the Assassin up for adoption so just to rest your worries, I won't be giving this one up (unless something really drastic happens). Reviews if you have the time for it! Bloodyislander out :)