Crickets chirped peacefully in the night air, carrying their placid tune through the streets of Agrabah. Most folk had already gone to bed, slumbering under the impression that if the magical barrier had held this long, it would surely hold through the night. Guards paced the wall back and forth, their eyes on the dark red tents of the demon army.

It was a frightening thing to watch, for though a gentle breeze stirred their sands no tent flap rustled. No campfire was lit among their numbers, no sound of ranks chatting in camaraderie. The silence was altogether inhuman. The guards kept their stance though, to their immense credit, and noted every shadow on the horizon.

Diriel sat in his massive tent, the opulence of his bedchambers at the citadel spread around him. On the posts of his day couch were four sets of crude manacles, each covered by now in blood both old and new. He had been making use of the captive villagers to keep his energies high. It would have to do for now, but common life would only sustain him physically, and only for so long.

He needed Mozenrath.

He could feel his power weakening by the hour now. Little by little his strength was yielding. It was an uncomfortable feeling to know his power dwindled as Mozenrath lay comfortably, serving a new master. Diriel snarled and looked at one of the terrified lesser occupants of his tent. He debated sating his rage on one of them. It would help him think better, calm his nerves for a bit. But beyond that it would be useless.

He needed Mozenrath!

Diriel, capable of rage as he was, was also capable of deadly calm. He settled his body into the silks and pillows, relaxing his muscles. There were options he had yet to entertain. He still had time. Much could change in the course of a week. He merely had to think and move his pieces carefully.

A way in. He thought simply. I require a way past the barrier. Past the barrier and the wall. Humm… Diriel let out a slow whistle through his teeth and chuckled. "Barae'." He whispered enigmatically.

Even the poor peasant folk could feel the change in pressure through the tent. The flap opened , not as if in a breeze, but swung suddenly and purposefully. Yet nothing seemed to enter. There was only a darkness that had not been there before, an ink patch of blackness that seemed to moisten the candles and cast out their light.

That same darkness did not speak, but moved in a glide to Diriel, and all felt keenly aware of being watched. "Barae." Diriel said shortly. "I am pleased to see you."

The shadow did not respond, yet there was a dense, wind like hiss that permeated his? Being. "I can not cross into the walls, their barrier creates a dome and I can not unlock the gates to let myself and mine in." The hiss sounded again and Diriel shook his head. "No. Don't bother. Insubstantial as you are I doubt if you could lift the barricade. I have a mission more suited to your…special talents." The shadow caved into itself, shivering in what might have been a laugh. Diriel smirked.

One of the guards stood atop Agrabah's wall, leaning calmly, if alert, against his spear. The stars glowed over head so as to surpass even the torch light by his post. While his fellows chattered and talked amongst themselves, his eyes were trained on the large tent in the center of the invading army. He could seem dim candle light and one…no… was it two shadows in there? One of them moved simply too fast to be more than smoke. His trained eyes caught the second lift of the tent flap that night, but for all his skill he could not see what, if anything entered or exited.

Shadows in the sands go unnoticed by even the most careful sentinel.

And, where cracks in the mortar and spackle are useless to a solid form, they are doors wide open to fog and mist and moisture. And that was what moved through them, impervious to the specifically keyed spell in the barrier. It kept out only what it was meant to keep out, a thing with a handicap to locks and barred doors. These things meant nothing to the insubstantial.

One of the wall men slumped against the siding, eyelids flickering weakly. Before his commander could reprimand him they both crumpled where they stood, the sound of soft breathing coming from their sleeping forms. The torch flickered in the sudden, violent breeze and then went out, leaving the alleys darkened.

Barae paid no attention to the few about at this time of night. Mostly cutthroats and thieves, beggars and others doing deeds less conspicuous in the dark. As he passed them their frame lay crumpled at their positions, deep in slumber, attentive only to their own dreams. Barae moved through out the city like a fine mist, aware only of his mission.

The vase of flowers ruffled as a chilled breeze came in through the open balcony. The curtains shivered fearfully and in a sudden flourish, all was still. The young man in the bed did not stir as his candles extinguished themselves. The shadow man moved to the end of his bed, hissing softly as Aladdin turned over. Barae ran his hands over the silken fabric of the sheets whispered something in a guttural tongue. Aladdin twitched, but did not awaken.

He crawled, (if such a thing could be said to crawl), more like slithered across the sheets, causing no imprint of divot to show he'd been there. Barae's form, what little of one he had, lay atop Aladdin's body, inspecting the unsuspecting boy. With a feature light touch he grazed Aladdin's torso, uncovering the tanned chest. Aladdin breathed with no less ease as the shadow thing caressed his face one, and slipped a long, black finger into his mouth, probing it deeper and deeper into his body.

Aladdin's eyes flickered and Barae chuckled darkly. He began to speak again, his soft, throaty voice like something from a nightmare. 'Show me your thoughts boy. Show me your fears. I will help them. I fill make them real.' Barae hissed and pushed his 'hand' into Aladdin's throat, making the heroes heart beat slow. The intention was not to kill him. That would have been impossible for one such as Barae to accomplish. No, there were much darker things in store for this young man.

Aladdin banged his hands against the doors of his wife's bedroom. No servant walked the halls though it was broad daylight, no sound came from within to give any indication of distress. And yet Aladdin could not shake this feeling of need. He must get inside those doors! Something was happening inside that bedroom he needed to see.

"Open up! Open these doors now Jasmine!" He hollered and slammed his fists down with all his might, the force of it rattling the frame. "Open up!"

A click echoed in his ears and Aladdin had the creepiest sensation of deja vu. With his breath heavy and his mind weighted, Aladdin sprung the doors wide open, his eyes fogging in the early morning light as it came through the window. "Jasmine!" he called out, shielding his eyes from the sun. he took a step forward and gasped. A warm, moist feeling spread over his toes and Aladdin looked up to the bed where Jasmine should lay.

A figure sat upright, head aimed towards the ceiling.

"Jasmine!" Aladdin called and ran forward. His eyes adjusted and as he grasped the firm shoulders he saw Mozenrath's face come into view. "Mozenrath! Wha…? Where is Jasmine?" he questioned sharply.

Mozenrath chuckled, not looking directly at him. "Why she's right here Aladdin? Are you blind?" he tilted his head slowly towards Aladdin, the left half of his face covered in thick red blood. Aladdin recoiled with a disgusted sound. Only then did he notice the figure on the bed.

Jasmine!

Her body was so bent and twisted she was barely recognizable! The dark hair he had caressed so many times before now lay limp against her honey colored skin. Not a breath stirred from her mouth. Her eyes did not move to look at him. She lay motionless.

"Ja….Jas…" Aladdin could feel tears streaming down his face as tiny drops of blood slipped of her perfectly manicured nails and onto the floor. "Jasmine! What did you do to her?" he grabbed Mozenrath and threw him on the marble, the pale naked body flopping on the floor like a rag doll. But the rag doll pick itself up to stare at him with insane eyes.

"She's out of the way now Aladdin." Mozenrath whispered in a voice near a hiss. The shadows on his face darkened as his hair, clotted with life fluid streak across his face. "You don't need to worry about her interference any more. We can be together…" Mozenrath crawled across the blood slicked marble. "You can do what ever you want without that nasty hag to complain."

"Not this way." Aladdin whispered in a terrified voice. "I didn't want it this way." He gulped as Mozenrath grabbed the front of his robe and tore it open, spread his thighs with wet hands. "I didn't want to loose her…"

"Now your just being silly." Mozenrath said, kissing up Aladdin's thighs with soft, tantalizing kisses. "You can't have your cake and eat it too Aladdin." He licked deviously close to Aladdin's cock, a mad smile playing on his lush lips. "You want me…I can taste it when we are close, I can smell it when we are not. But mean ole' Jasmine just can't handle a little competition." Mozenrath slipped his lips against the bridge of Aladdin's manhood.

"No!" Aladdin brought his fist down before he'd even realized what he'd done. Mozenrath went sprawling and he rushed to the dead Jasmine's side, taking her close in his arms. "No…Jasmine…I'm so sorry…not like this…" he kissed her cheek, the salty taste of blood touching his tongue.

"Do you love him Aladdin?"

Aladdin nearly dropped her. Jasmine head twisted on it's broken neck, using her shoulder for support to look at him. "Do you love him Aladdin? Or did you betray me for a fuck?"

Now he did drop her onto the bed, backing away as his robes clung to his arms. "Wha…I…I never….I didn't…"

"DIDN'T YOU!" she screamed, her eyes glaring without the spark of life. "Didn't you." This time in a deadly whisper. "In your mind you betrayed me a thousand times. I am glad to be dead. I am glad he killed me. Now you can both be happy." she said with a sad smile and her body went limp again.

Aladdin opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The whole of his interior went dead quiet, and even when Mozenrath crawled atop his body and began to kiss him, no noise permeated the surreal world he seemed to be in. "Jasmine." He mouthed, aware he was saying it even though he did not speak. "I'm so sorry."

Barae hissed a low chuckle as he felt Aladdin flinch and groan under him. A tear glistened in the moon light and the look on his face was one of sheer agony. He withdrew his finger from Aladdin, assured that the dream was already well under way. He slipped under the door without a sound, moving in for his next target.