Darkness

Crackling, sizzling, booming, pouring through the air, there was little doubt that there was something going on, something neither one could have predicted or accounted for, let alone understood. And they stood there like dragons, breathing and snarling as though it was the others' fault. They both knew better, but that changed little. Breathing fire, they circled each other watching waiting for whatever might come next, knowing whatever it was could ultimately destroy them; caring not.

As the energy arced across the sky, they began to move, abandoning logic and all that they had stood for previously. And they moved thus, ever wary, watching each other carefully, longing for the inevitable, and staving it off in favor of the dance. Hunger pounded through their veins but no one and nothing could sate this hunger. It was consuming, this blaze, and it meant to devour them, but it couldn't have conceived of the power each possessed. And so they circled. Each waiting for the other to make themselves vulnerable. Waiting for a weakness, a soft spot, something to lead them into the darkness they both craved and denied. To those who could see, the dance was moot. Those strong enough could see the dance would merely intensify what lie ahead. The denial is what would eventually do them in, take them hostage. To those who couldn't see, who were not in possession of that strength, nothing was amiss. Everything was as it should be. All was right with the world. But to the few who held that power, everything lie in the balance.

If she lunged first, but did so with any hesitation or doubt, she would be beaten. If he reacted slowly or with fear, he would be devoured by her need. She was unaccustomed to the hunger; it was strange and unfamiliar to her, but he knew of it. He knew that eventually he would confront it, but even so, the depth and depravity of it shocked him. Nothing could have prepared him; yet he was ready. He had prepared for an eternity and while he had misjudged the hunger, he had always carried the appetite. He could taste her; even now, even through her fight, he could taste her. He knew her scent, her sound. He knew how it would be for them. And that knowledge should have calmed the beast within, should have quelled the hunger but it did not. He still felt a desperation to have it done. To feel her heat, her need. He wanted to drive that need to a fever pitch so that it thrummed throughout her being, leaving no part of her untouched.

As fate would have it, she felt his call, became aware of his hunger, and it unsettled her, left her naked and open to his attack; and attack he did. Within her vulnerability, she was awakened to her want, and he lifted the edge of that, exposing it for what it was. With a moan, her head dropped; her eyes closed without will, to show her what lie ahead. As she shook her head no and began to draw from the strength she knew was there, he moved forward, to within a thought of her. He could feel her calling to what she held inside and let her build it for a moment before he touched her. The battle could only be won; truly won, against an enemy well armed. So he let her feed her power until he could wait no longer. He touched her then, and in touching her, broke through the wall of restraint she had in place. He reached her with one move.

He was not prepared for what she carried. As skin met skin, her power coursed through him, strong and sure. He felt his own surge to meet it, whether to fight it off or to combine strengths, he knew not, but the surge lanced from his fingers to her flesh, causing them both to pause, or more appropriately, freeze. It wasn't a moment for indecision or hesitation, yet neither could move. It lashed them as strongly as a rope. All at once, seemingly of its' own accord, their strength pulled them closer, leaving nothing but cloth between them. Her hands wound themselves about his neck, leaving her to fear what had come over her. She was removed from herself, unable to control what came next. Her lips parted, emitting a sigh or moan, maybe both, and her body loosened itself, becoming pliant and willing. She saw herself weaken with horror. Closing her eyes, she shook her head slowly from one side to the next, denying the truth.

As she moved her head to the side, making her neck vulnerable, he lowered his head slowly, so she might know of his intent. But the need rose within him, and as he dropped his face to breathe of her, he felt the shift. It should have been under control, but it was not and the more he let it go, the stronger it became. He felt her tremble as though she knew, felt her rest her head on his shoulder, keeping herself open for his attack, and still he fought it. He tried to draw himself back, to pull his power in, but he could not. With what strength he did possess over the power, he began to reign it in, but her own curled itself around his and refused to let it go. He felt hers twine itself sinuously around his caressing it, calming the fire, but feeding the hunger. Her pale blue began to move on its' own, leaving her to marvel at the need she could scarcely hold back. Nor did she want to. Her body had hungered for so long, with such desperation, that she was nearly relieved to find her completion. She let it go, pouring her entire being into it, feeding it with her own worldly hunger.

He saw her then, not as she was now, but as she had been before. They way they were long ago. With that, he let the shift take over, let himself become what he had always been for her and her alone. For a second, she tried to bring about fear over what she knew was coming but it was a weak attempt and she failed, only knowing she needed this. Had always needed this. With the scraped of his teeth on her flesh, anticipation took hold, leaving her breathless and desperate. And still, the battle within her waged on, the need for possession and the need for individuality.

Nuzzling her neck, lightly nipping his teeth along sensitive skin, he drew her clothes from her body. He wanted the possession to be complete; all encompassing. He wanted to fill her, her senses, her thoughts, her body, and her blood. Shedding his own, never letting her know what he was about, sensing her fear, he drew her heated flesh back to his, shaking with need. Nipping more roughly, needing her to be prepared for what was coming, he moved his hands over her body, intensely, claiming and marking her as his, his nails biting into her flesh, but never hard enough to draw the blood that would overcome him. Moving with her, guiding her backwards, he braced them against the wall, drawing her legs around his waist, lifting her hips flush with his own.

When his teeth pierced her flesh, he drove into her, claiming all that she was, drawing her life, her need, her hunger, and feeding it all into his movement. Her need for possession won out, and she tilted her head back to further his hunger, to feed his hunger, to demand that he feed from what she offered. The fear never took hold, but it lurked in the background, waiting for sanity to return. On some level, she knew that he had taken more than she offered, but the thought didn't have a foothold. She let it drift to the back of her conscious mind, taking what he had to give and focusing only on that.

Gripping the flesh of her hips, he drove more forcefully into her, needing to hear her cry out, needing to know that she felt his possession, that she would never question it again. Moans, soft and incoherent, slipped from her lips, and in them, he heard what he longed for, her verbal acceptance, the vocal pledge to be his, no matter what. It shook him to his core and as he felt her begin to shudder, he let go of all that he kept hidden from the world, let it go all for her, this one person who could shake the control he was so valiantly protective over. As he stopped moving within her, she slumped in his arms. Terrified that he had taken more that she could give, he began to withdraw, frantically afraid that his hunger, his need had robbed him of what he needed so much. But she whimpered at his movement, and pulled him back to her, drawing him even more deeply inside her than he would have dared. He sighed, letting himself rest against her, drawing strength from her presence.

Feathering her fingers through her hair, she wondered at the complete sense of wonder, of possession that washed from him through her. And in that moment she knew she was his. No matter what tomorrow held, no matter where their lives took them, she had this. She would always know to whom she belonged.

He carried her across the floor to what had brought them here in the first place. The bed had not been there, in its' place had stood a fire, but other forces were at work and he would never dare question it. He lay her upon it, following close after, needing her heat to keep him going. He pulled her back against his chest, his face in her hair, breathing of her, lulling himself to sleep with the rhythm of her breathing.
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Pounding, driving itself like a punishment, just sheer pain and evil energy. Locking itself away, but not hiding its’ true nature; sluicing down the windows, caressing everything in its path. Nothing escaped the reach of its downpour. Destroying the fragile, seriously diminishing the strength of the hardy. She could feel it as though it were a physical touch, something tangible and real. She felt as though she were completely surrounded in its embrace and surrendered herself to the darkness it brought out from within her. Eyes closed, face to the sky, she fed the hate, anger, need, desperation that resided in her mind. Pushed it to a level higher than she ever had before, letting it become more than what it had started as. Every breath she took garnered more strength.

Her strength fed itself into her anger, pushing it higher, tempting her power, teasing itself around the edges of who she’d become. Intention stronger than time, distance, space, and even beyond the realm of possibility dwelt inside her, growing ever stronger with each passing year… yes, even with each passing lifelike. The core of who she is, who she was meant to be, remained intact past the boundaries of life and death. The strength she ignored, denied, grew even stronger as time blew past.
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The next evidence of her power comes in a dark, cold, hateful time. Born into a poor family, taunted. The strength built over the decades of disuse was unleashed on a people not strong enough to stop it. She fed into the hate, the dark, the anger building herself higher and into a position of power and authority. From her place on the cliffs, she could look upon all that she ruled. Cold and mirthless, she reigned over this Time, this snippet of history.

He watched her, always from a distance. He did not know how or why she was in the controlling position she was in, but it enthralled him. The sheer magnitude of what she held inside her could not be hidden, no matter how she tried to hide it. Tidbits always shone through. He was drawn to that, to the darkness she both fed and denied. And so he obeyed her orders, day in, day out as he was taught to do from birth. Providing warm water for her to bathe in, bringing in a hot meal. She ruled with an iron fist and never looked upon those beneath her with anything less than contempt.

It was the first of his twentieth year, somewhere around the fortieth of hers, when he realized he craved her. Craved her with a hunger unquenchable. But it was his own fault, you see, for allowing himself to watch her covertly after bringing her bath water. Listening to her tears at night after the rest of life was long asleep. He knew this woman of strength, power, and control was human. He had seen the evidence, been there to revel in her weaknesses, filing them away in his own mind for perusal later. He knew the Time would come when he would exploit them, show her for what she was and so he watched.

It was just an ordinary day. He had brought her fruits and breads for her breakfast, standing silently in a shadow until his services were needed for another purpose. It was this day, this one occasion when he felt his own power, simmering just beneath the surface. He knew it was today.

“Boy, bring me my water and make it fast. I have little patience for your slothful nature and will not tolerate it today, of all days. Bring it and make sure it is plenty hot. Do not dawdle as you go, or the punishment will be severe!” It was, he thought, exactly the moment for which he’d been waiting. She got sloppy in high temper and sloppy went hand in hand with careless. She would only make that mistake once, but once was all he needed.

Bringing in the final round of water, he tripped and stumbled, spilling water enough to cover a large part of her floor, splashing her in the process. She rounded on him, eyes blazing, power licking out around the edges. With a flash, she moved before him, palms up, hands to her side, gathering the heat, angry past coherent thought, preparing herself to destroy this person, the anger irrational for the crime it represented.

Lashing out in her anger, as though it were a whip, she advanced on him as though he was prey. Her movements were graceful and sleek, strong and powerful. He held her gaze as he bent forward to empty his hands, allowing her to see the dare in his eyes. “You would challenge me? Me, of a strength and power you couldn’t possibly understand?” Laughing without humor, she reached for him, her cockiness making her vulnerable. So sure was she in her imminent victory, she was unprepared for a fight. As her hand closed about his wrist, he twisted it, dropping her arm behind her back, grinning. Calling to what he’d hidden within himself for so long, he lifted her so that just her toes touched ground. Her eyes round with shock, blazing with anger and hatred, she thrashed in his hold, searching for ground, trying to regain her balance.

At a near whisper, he spat, “All this time, the watching, the doing as I was bid. It stops here. You will acknowledge power shared.” Walking forward, driving her backwards until her back hit the wall, eyes locked on hers all the while. “You live each day ruling over us, over me, without a care for what you control. You never accounted for me, never figured into your plan that there was one of the same blood, with the same strength. Did you?” Laughing to himself, he answered his own question. “Of course you didn’t. But you do, or you will, now.”

But the anger, the hate could only get so far. This is what he had longed for nigh on a decade and that hunger could no longer go unsatisfied. She saw, sensed this hunger, this need and her eyes grew weighted, falling nearly closed. Her breath rasped from her unevenly, jaggedly. “Yes,” he murmured. “God yes, submit to me.” Her head dropped back, her power feeding into a need now rather than anger.

This… she thought to herself, this is what has been missing. She poured herself into his embrace, no longer hiding, no longer needing to. This man knew who she was. He could give her all that she lacked, all that she had desired. In him, she would find her completion.