Forging harmony.
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
28
Views:
2,381
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
28
Views:
2,381
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Tricks of light.
CHAPTER TWELVE: TRICKS OF LIGHT.
Half way across the kingdom the two Princes had made together. Deep below a seeming normal noble manor house, in a dark secret room ranted a mad man. His pack was arranged about the ritual room. Shadows did little to hide the twisted mockery of any good ritual room. Death, decay and fresh spilled blood hung on the air like the rancid smoke that stung their eyes. Whimpering a background noise, to their master's old cracked voice.
"Earth report to me what you see."
A painfully thin man shuffled forward, back bent, green collar tight about his throat.
"Master my eyes show me only outside the palace." He cringed expecting a blow to his already aching flesh.
"I know all your pitiful excuses." Annoyed the dark man raised a finger at his quivering earth, calling a tiny fraction of his power; obsidian glinted on that pointing digit.
"But Dorothy is not happy with her newly formed kisst." The shivering slave hurried on hoping to avoid more pain. If he could have he would have shrunk into the earth itself, but previous lessons at his master's hands had trained him to ignore the wish to do so.
"I want them all watched, they could give us an opening. If nothing else driving off any who would help my enemy will be pleasing." Black skinned fingers reached into the shadows of a deep hood, stroking wizened flesh. Swinging about sharply. "Blood is our spirit ready!" He yelled.
"No my master she needs at least a month before..." He cut her off sharply.
"One week before we attack again, I think the water this time. Make sure she is ready. If need be kill some more slaves, just get her body working again." He left the room.
Light slowly crept back into it, like badly whipped dogs, all the pack, each a slave, give a sigh of relief. Their master tended to eclipse a room, thinking that letting his power run unchecked was the best way to prove who owned them.
"Light we need more time." The black haired fire spoke first. His once strong body already failing after even a short time being part of the pack.
The others crowded around the young boy child with rose skin, touching him, seeking comfort and warmth. Emotional pain had etched lines a boy of few summers should not have.
"We must go carefully or suffer like the last fire." As one the pack cast their eyes over where a gold covered skull had been placed not far from the fire mark. A gruesome reminder how twisted their master was becoming in his quest for revenge. He was willing to use them up, sucking them dry like a leach. Not even death held a way out of this place.
"We must be thankful blood that he has not worked out who built the palace yet." The high unbroken voice of the light seemed to ring off the stones stained deep red brown.
Those that could, begged him to be quiet, to not bring unwanted attention to them. The last time anyone had considered refusing the dark master had paid the price of her left arm and almost her life. The water had refused to sleep with the old man who repulsed her, now she was just another plaything in his mad schemes. A thing to be called, to be used and cast off when it was finally to much work to keep alive.
Earth collapsed in a heap on the floor adding to the filth already accumulated there. Seven slaves looked at the door one last time; it did not do to linger too long together. Turning they set about their tasks, no matter how much they were disgusted to do them, but the punishment was too real to not do as told.
############
Vamp: Please feed the plot bunnys.
Half way across the kingdom the two Princes had made together. Deep below a seeming normal noble manor house, in a dark secret room ranted a mad man. His pack was arranged about the ritual room. Shadows did little to hide the twisted mockery of any good ritual room. Death, decay and fresh spilled blood hung on the air like the rancid smoke that stung their eyes. Whimpering a background noise, to their master's old cracked voice.
"Earth report to me what you see."
A painfully thin man shuffled forward, back bent, green collar tight about his throat.
"Master my eyes show me only outside the palace." He cringed expecting a blow to his already aching flesh.
"I know all your pitiful excuses." Annoyed the dark man raised a finger at his quivering earth, calling a tiny fraction of his power; obsidian glinted on that pointing digit.
"But Dorothy is not happy with her newly formed kisst." The shivering slave hurried on hoping to avoid more pain. If he could have he would have shrunk into the earth itself, but previous lessons at his master's hands had trained him to ignore the wish to do so.
"I want them all watched, they could give us an opening. If nothing else driving off any who would help my enemy will be pleasing." Black skinned fingers reached into the shadows of a deep hood, stroking wizened flesh. Swinging about sharply. "Blood is our spirit ready!" He yelled.
"No my master she needs at least a month before..." He cut her off sharply.
"One week before we attack again, I think the water this time. Make sure she is ready. If need be kill some more slaves, just get her body working again." He left the room.
Light slowly crept back into it, like badly whipped dogs, all the pack, each a slave, give a sigh of relief. Their master tended to eclipse a room, thinking that letting his power run unchecked was the best way to prove who owned them.
"Light we need more time." The black haired fire spoke first. His once strong body already failing after even a short time being part of the pack.
The others crowded around the young boy child with rose skin, touching him, seeking comfort and warmth. Emotional pain had etched lines a boy of few summers should not have.
"We must go carefully or suffer like the last fire." As one the pack cast their eyes over where a gold covered skull had been placed not far from the fire mark. A gruesome reminder how twisted their master was becoming in his quest for revenge. He was willing to use them up, sucking them dry like a leach. Not even death held a way out of this place.
"We must be thankful blood that he has not worked out who built the palace yet." The high unbroken voice of the light seemed to ring off the stones stained deep red brown.
Those that could, begged him to be quiet, to not bring unwanted attention to them. The last time anyone had considered refusing the dark master had paid the price of her left arm and almost her life. The water had refused to sleep with the old man who repulsed her, now she was just another plaything in his mad schemes. A thing to be called, to be used and cast off when it was finally to much work to keep alive.
Earth collapsed in a heap on the floor adding to the filth already accumulated there. Seven slaves looked at the door one last time; it did not do to linger too long together. Turning they set about their tasks, no matter how much they were disgusted to do them, but the punishment was too real to not do as told.
############
Vamp: Please feed the plot bunnys.