So had a slight change of plan, I was going to wait till I was mostly done with the entire story, but that could be awhile, and I don't want everyone waiting forever. So heres the first chapter at least, I'm not sure if I'll put up chapter two in a week or so but its a possibility.
Hope you enjoy as always, tell me what you think.
Uh, quick heads up, this chapter isn't exactly sunshine and bunnies, so don't go into it unprepared I would say.
Chapter One: Misadventures of Marceline.
The doors slit open, letting in slithers of blinding white sunlight to illuminate the tunnel they stood in. The banana guard yanked her chains and pushed for her to move forward, she weakly hissed as they tried shoving her forward into the beams. Marceline attempted to cover her face with her hands, the tight shackles one guard each held at her sides didn't allow her to even pull her arms up to the chest.
The guard recollected their orders, seeing the vampire whimper at the sight of day; one of the three guards, specifically the one who wasn't holding the shackles behind her, and kept jabbing with his spear to make her go forward, walked back down the tunnel from where they came.
He was gone a short time; enough time to think of an escape plan? No, everything was in fates hands now. She could hear his footsteps from behind getting closer, echoing through the tunnel, suddenly with one swift action she was blinded; the guard appeared to have put a sack over her head from what she could tell. It was now pitch black, the only sense she had available now was her ears to guide; her nose was already encumbered by the smell of the sack, it was rotten, smelt like trash left out too long in the hot weather. Even breathing through her mouth didn't help since it was strong enough to taste; she felt suffocated, with little-to no air holes to convey in fresh oxygen, the expired fumes began to make her feel heavily nauseous.
Still refusing to go further forward, trying to grind and skid her heels along the floor ahead of them in between her forced steps. She shook and resisted, shouting, only to make mere muffles from under the bag, in an attempt to make them realise her arms were still almost fully exposed, getting closer to the exit, feeling the heat beginning to radiate off the walls. They just thought she was being resistant, like any other prisoner would if they knew what was about to come.
They escorted her out into the sunlight; though blinded, Marceline could immediately tell the moment they walk past the threshold of the shade. Her arms could have been set-alight, there would be no difference, her skin sizzled under the rays, turning from pale to burnt red with a few albino white patches scaring up along her arms; the skin around her shackled wrists, chaffed and shredded from the rusty friction, she collapsed to her knees, unable to take the first waves of rippling torture.
Now she thought what they were about to do to her almost felt like mercy.
The guard lifted the starved, lightweight vampire to her feet once more, pulling on her restrictions that tore into her wrist. A cheer came from the gathering crowd as they saw the broken, accused vampire emerge from the safety of the shade.
Marceline screamed on the way there to best of her throat and lungs content in her damaged state, it was an impressive effort as her loud wails tried to compete, but were easily swallowed under the masses of the crowds cheering, and even further contained under the sack. It soon turned to short-rhythmic, panting moans, distressed in pain, like a dog with a limp in its leg, as her voice box couldn't sustain the screaming any longer, exhausting her capabilities, she passed out under the heat and recycled oxygen in the sack.
Unknown amounts of time had passed but it likely wasn't too long; they wouldn't give her the luxury. She squealed to consciousness, feeling a freeze dousing her back; her arms sizzled the water into vapour, the limbs were almost chard, the nerves inside gave up on transmitting the pain back to the brain.
The crowd around cheered at the happening event, then silence swept over them when the Princess opened her mouth on the so-called stage with Marceline. "Citizens! We are not savages! We do not chant in pleasure and happiness at such an event. We are simply here to witness this evil to be banished from Ooo." Marceline would have chuckled at Bubblegums statement if she was not in so much agony.
Bubblegum crouched beside her, asking so only the two could hear, "Any last words..." She didn't say it in spite, there was no hatred in her voice, it sounded as plain as she could, almost as if she cared for her request; Bubblegum didn't want to focus any kind of emotion into what she was doing.
"Mm-muah... m-maake it – quick-k." Marceline she shivered in pain under the sack, not that it was cold, on the contrary, she was literally roasting.
The princess moved back giving the executioner space to operate. Marceline still didn't know how they planned to murder her, it didn't seem they were preparing for a hanging, it was obviously something brutal, not like a simple injection from one of Bubblegums lethal concoctions, otherwise why the public spectacled?
With the sound of a sword unsheathing and a heavy clang as the tip hit the stage, Marceline knew exactly what her fate was. 'At least it will be quick...' she told herself, squinting her eyes shut, even with the sack blinding her. The sword grated along the ground a bit before it stopped, presumable lifted into the air , it sounded heavy, like a claymore. All she could hope for now was a clean cut. Then the shock hit her, a sudden cut down the sack, narrowly missing her left eye. Looking around in desperate confusion as to why, she saw the executioner stood in front of her, he made sure to shadow his face from her, but he had a certain look to him. "U-nugha – ah... arrgh... F-Fi-in?" He was wearing his unmistakable hat as a big give-away.
"...Hmm, hmm-hmm, huhehe-haHaHa! ArHaHaHaaa – Ha – Haaaaah!" He chuckled, trying to hold it in, only to make him burst out in mischievous, demonic laughter.
"..." Marceline just couldn't say anything. Overjoyed to the best of her display, seeing her lover come to rescue her defeated self, and now his... laughing? 'Oh, Oh Glob No...' She thought; paralysed with her body caving in on itself, it just hit her.
A pair of soul staring, green eyes lit from the shadow, reaching the sword in the air above his head, ripping it back down through the air with the crowd gasping and then...
"GHUUuaah – Ghuah... cough, Hu-ah-huah! Clunk." Marceline choked on her gasps before she could open her eyes in terror, falling off her bed into a coughing fit on the floor. The sharp, freezing dampness of the stone contacting her sensitive skin further disorientated her senses; though it was cold, her brain mistaken it for burning. Unable to recall this room, she scuttled around and off the floor, back to the safety of her bed. Rubbing and covering her arms with her body only to notice they were not scabbed and boiled by the sun, her nerves were still waking up themselves, couldn't tell the difference between freezing and scorching, making her still think she was inside the horrid nightmare. Her frantic breathing and heart rate began to calm; for a vampire it was impressive if the organ actually beaten a couple times a day, as of this moment it was hammering its way through her ribs. She begun realising where she was again, barely.
The air was chilly and the room was damp, rain water made its way through some cracks of the roughly carved cobblestone walls. It wasn't dark, nor was it bright either, a torch or two were lit far down the hall next to the door that gave access to this cell block.
She didn't have much furniture, ragged straw bed with dirty and ripped fur covers, a sink that was loose on its hinges, almost about to fall, it had rusted over the years and the the bent pipe allowed hardly any water to trickle through it. A cluster of chains hung on the wall her bed rest up against and her area for excrement was left far in the opposite corner behind the sink. The walls grew moss from where the water commonly flowed down; every time she breathed a grey cloud of mist emerged from the mouth.
Examining her cage, getting back her bearings, "Hmnnugh-no-no-no-nooo..." Marceline jolted every half-a-second as she cried internally in her chest, with her legs pulled up against her torso, forehead on her knees, she cradled herself, hitting her back against the wall in the gentle swaying motion. She knew where she was again, wishing she didn't. It had been averagely three weeks since Marcelines incarceration, though she wasn't certain, loosing track on time.
The nightmares were not common, they only happened from time-to-time. They consist of the same things over again, either herself getting executed, or the Lich chasing her in maze, tormenting her. Marceline lifted her head from the knees, leaning up against the wall. Containing the tears, she stroked and combed her scruffy, knotted, midnight black hair, finding comfort in doing so, it helped her mind escape a little.
Being alone for such a time without her necessary feeding needs fulfilled, the isolation was getting to her. Hardly audible, she murmured to herself, "Everything will be... okay. Finn will realise, he-he will fight it a-and come save-m-me." returning her head to her knees, tears swelling up in her throat, "Oh glob Finn please help meeeeee..."
Revelations over there times together before this entire mess only sunk a hole deeper in her stomach. A side of her she kept submerged for too long, decided on making a presence. Her voice changed tone, taking a darker turn, filled with spite and self-doubt, "He won't come back! Why would he? He doesn't want you. You're just some lost little girl, a burden on his shoulders. His got everything he needs... his already... already f-forgoten-you-ou-ou..." Voice returning back to normal, unable to hold any longer, she bawled tears down her face and legs; Marceline was slowly loosing grip on who she was, she was becoming her own worst enemy.
Her mental stability was fracturing every passing day. Marceline could handle being alone, she was for the most part of her life. This happening again though, she couldn't handle at all. First abandoned, left for dead by her demon lord farther in an apocalypse as he attended to business in the Nigh-O-Sphere. Then watching Simon eventually turn mad, ironically by the thing that kept him alive that long, the crown, and then walked away, leaving her before he hurt her.
Now Finn, yet another person she brought in to her life, ended up sharing immense feelings for, different to the other two, but just as or even more-so stronger and deeper. Making it even worst, she actually confessed those feelings to him.
Of course there was also Ash, but she never actual said she loved him. She was alone and approached by another of her kind - when they crossed paths, she was over the moon and clung to him, then one thing lead to another, and he took advantage.
Now Finn, like all the others was gone, just another sad tale she kept to herself for the rest of her days, however long that may be.
The days just kept passing, She stopped bothering to count, it only made them drag on; what would it matter anyway? More nightmares occurred, more delusional arguments with herself. The amount of red in the meals gradually became unseen. Her straw rag clothing tightly griped her figure the first time she wore it; now it barley hung around her limbs and features, clinging to her defined skeleton under the thin layer of flesh, her trousers had to be aided up with a noose tied round her waist. All the fat from her body was robbed. Unable to do little more then just sit like a corpse, waiting.
She knew someone was coming, she could sense it; could this be it, her time had finally come to an end? No, if this was the day, they would certainly let her know, with a large mob outside cheering and guards marching down the halls to get her. No this person footsteps were quiet its wasn't a guard on patrol, they wouldn't bother being silent, they'll deliberately smash their feet along the stone floor to let you be aware of their presence. However this person wasn't trying to sneak, they were just light-footed. They were about to approach the cell, Marceline pushed aside some of the hair that cloaked her face and obscured her vision, but only moved it to the side of her brow, enough so her eye could peek through.
"Ironic isn't it," The person spoke just before they had reached the cell. "how you tried to save him, and now you are going to die because of him." Finn stood outside Marceline's cell, resting his arms on the bars, his face looking down on on the bleak and dirty stone floor but his swirling, demonic, lime green eyes staring up at her from beneath his eyelids.
He wore his usual outfit but with the addition of a patchwork hooded cloak that looked as if it was made out of potato sacks stitched together; his hat was pulled off his hair (although it was unnoticeable due to the hood) and worn further up his face, like a balaclava. And lastly his normal shoes were swapped for dark brown leather boots that looked perfect for sneaking around; it didn't seem that he was given permission to come down here to visit.
Finn wasn't in the room however, only his shell. "Maybe under different circumstances I would have grown to like you, girl. But you'd just have been a roach in my boot. You're just a squabbling child like this one I have the displeasure of possessing; crying and whining over insignificant matters!" The Lich sounded dreaded, he was fed up with his puppet already.
Marceline hadn't talked to someone (or something) other than herself in a while. With his sudden appearance, masquerading as Finn she didn't know how to really respond, in fact this was all so surreal, it had to have been a dream. Thinking she called it out and his presence building an anger climbing up her chest, she roared at the imposter, "Arrgh. Get OUT of my HEAD!"
Unshaken by her unstable persona, he actually found it amusing, chuckling at her fragile mentality. "Oh but I am right here, girl, don't let the looks fool you, this is as real as it gets. I'm not just some part of your fractured imagination; I'm your living, breathing nightmare. Has the cage broken you already? I thought a tough demon like you was used to such... accommodations..."
She wished he would go away, his presence was breaking her barriers between telling dream from reality. He could tell just standing outside her cell unsettled her, given him even more reason to persist and torment.
"I just wanted to have one last chat before you leave this world. The end is nigh for you. Oh-hehe, but don't worry, little monster, you won't be alone, this pathetic excuse for a world will soon follow. Hmm, daddies little monster – the truest words Hunson ever spoke about you." The Lich held an uncontrollable menacing grin stretch across his jaw as he taunted her in the cell; she could only imagine how horrid it would look if he was in his actual form. He had every reason to be in a good mood, the plan was playing out perfectly.
Feeling the instinct to rip him to shreds, she downplayed the thought, knowing there was no way she could in this current state. But she just wanted it all to go away, the insults, his voice, his appearance,"Why don't you just... kill me?" she asked, almost sounding like she was begging for it.
"Ahaha-so short sighted, girl." Rattling the cell door as he pushed his face harder against the iron, "The cage won't save you, I'll rip a hole in there and tear you asunder before you could even begin a feeble attempt at fighting back... I'll carry you out into a field and feed your fragile tainted skin to the SUN! And then let the maggots finish what's left! But no. Why don't I kill you? Because I already have, remember; no point doing the extra work..." The grim smile still remained hung across his face. "You see I don't just kill for the sake of killing, I kill because I take pleasure from killing; so now and again its nice when I can mix thing up a little. I would just be selfish if I had all the fun. Instead of me slaughtering all of you, why not let you turn against each other." He talked about it as it was a common sport, and clearly took pride into what he was doing.
"Hehe, got a bit ahead of myself there. I said all of you like you were one of them..." Upholding the line of low insults.
Faint banter between two guards from the other hall begun to get louder as they approached, to inspect the cells. "Anyway, got to go and set things in motion, keep mine and Finns secret safe will you," He chuckled, "although its not like they would believe you anyway." He made sure to remind her. "Not long now, your part will be played soon enough, hehe." On that note he left the other way. There was no door that end of the hall, must have been a grate for him to escape down, avoiding the guards. Yet again leaving Marceline on her own in the cold, bitter darkness, not even able to release her pent up anger on a wall or the sink, too weak to do so; besides the guards will likely punish her if she did, putting even less red in her meals if that was virtually possible. She locked it away loosely inside with all the rest of her fragile emotions, for someone else to accidentally set it free.
A Lich's Laws of Possession:
It is possible to overcome a Lich if the host is void of emotion and/or thoughts and doesn't care whether they live or die, thus draining its source of power to which it fuels itself upon.
A bit of a downer this chapter, but she hasn't been executed... yet, there's still hope for her, right?
Any questions or anything, go ahead and PM them to me, and even better leave a juicy review.