Are you Wrath? [Rated M for Mature] (Tebby!)

[Anonymous]

Waves crashed upon the stormy shores of Thanatos. The storm didn't approach quickly, it had taken its time to make it to the island. Most people would believe the arrival had been natural, as was most of the stormy weather that visited from time to time. This however was more of an omen than just a build up of rain. The crackling electricity that broke the darkened skies caused thunderous booming in its wake. The rain came down hard, the wind while not at full strength was still present, causing a slightly chilling sensations in those who did not properly defend themselves against the terrible weather.

Waves rolled over the rocky shores and beaches alike, those were smart enough stayed far enough away from the water to avoid the wrath of the sea.

There were those who enjoyed it however.

A body moved through the water, tossed and turned like driftwood in the rough motions. Was it dead however? It be impossible to tell as it drifted inland, pushed by the waves until it crashed against the rocky shore. Again and again it was pulled outwards and then battered against the rocks, smashed against the hard surfaces. This happened a few times, until with a flash of gold, the body was attached to a large rock. Gauntlets around the hands and arms, smooth golden pieces of armour that had dangerously sharp and long claws, almost animalistic in appearance. They dug into the rocks with ease, gripping firmly to the shore as the body pulled itself from the water.

What stood up was an odd assortment of clothing. The shirt was no more than two long strips of cloth, wrapped from the waist upward, each going their separate ways to wrap down the arms into the gauntlets. A mask around the face, covering his nose and mouth, with a tight hood around the top half of his head covering it and hiding it from the world. The only thing one could from his head was the eyes. Terrible red eyes, staring, unblinking, filled with anger and hate.

The figure was masculine in appearance, not hulking but he appeared strong to a degree. His upper body moved up and down as he breathed, but not as if he were exhausted, but as if he was trying to calm a rage within him. Slowly he started walking, the mist stopped leaving his body, but it hung in the air behind him for a moment or two.

His walk was without purpose, he had arrived, and he had little idea where he was. What had been a swim, had become a ride over waters. He had been following a boat, but the storm followed him, and as such, the boat became lost. There hadn't even been a smell to follow, which angered him even more. This place however, he could sense life upon it, but a strange energy, a darker magic. Something he liked, something that called to his very essence.

He didn't tire, like a shambling zombie he crossed over hill, through plains and fields, following that pulsating, haunting call to him. It was as if he could see the aura, he could follow the trail of power, the one that told him to come hither.

Something that registered, as he passed by farmers and the like, he did not receive the looks that he got in some other countries. No one was looking at him like he was a monster, at least, not as much. People looked at him more that he was just a stranger, that he was unfamiliar, but not because his intimidating presence. If he had less concentration, he would have stopped and began a wanton slaughter, he wasn't sure why, but burning crops always looked so pretty, and more so when a storm was happening. He had very little concept of water and fire not mixing very well, his fire usually didn't mind or care about the water.

Still, the pulse called to him, the gathering of magic, dark and twisted, controlled but chaotic, it wanted him to come, it practically called his name. The whispers about him in the howling wind, the crack of lighting and the roar of thunder, it was all calling his name, to continue forward toward whatever it was that wished him to visit, to find it. When his feet finally led him to his destination, he found a city. It was the city that called to him, it was the city and the inhabitants, the magic that they used, that asked him to visit, that brought him this way. It had all been them, and he felt...special almost. In his mind, they had spoke for him to come visit, for him to join them in their wonderfully dark city.

So he did.

The small journey into the city had not been a hassle. Instead of going through some gate, he had scaled the walls. The wind and the rain caused the visibility of the guards to be lessened, so his climb was uninhibited by all. The storm would blow itself out, even the rain was stopping, though the wind did not relent as of yet.

Slowly he pulled down his mask, just slightly to show his nose, so he might take a deep breath of air. Yes. The smell. A good smell. What to do? Where to go? There were hints of death and decay, hints of blood, and he could have sworn he heard screaming.

That however was the wind, but it excited him even still. His arms dangled in front of him, limp and unused as he walked, his back slightly hunched. They swung back and forth instead of forward and back, his head turning and twisting as he looked at everyone who passed him. There weren't many people out, not yet, but as the rain receded and the wind started to die down, people began to leave their houses. Every sound of a door closing as someone left their house, or a window open, he reacted, his head snapping in that direction to look at it. He was a curious monster, hidden in a man's body, or what one could think was a man's body. The growling that occasionally left his throat was more animal than human, more feral. It got people to move out of his way at least, which was a goal. He also wanted to smell the fear from them. His favourite scent. So easy to find, so familiar, and easy to follow.

The question now, was what lay before him? This place was dark, it was a home to him almost, he liked it, and yet...what was there to entertain himself. Death and blood all around him, and he knew that a city of this power, of his size, would be dangerous. He would not be able to simply raze it to the ground.

A pity.

He wanted a fire.

[Anonymous]

CRACK!

A branch fell from a tree off in the distance, a ways away from the church. Though the branch was far off, it still shook the unsteady ground. She sighed, grabbing onto a pew so she wouldn't topple over again. One day she would find the resources to rebuild God's house. He deserved more respect then he got in this sad town.

Being one of the few people to live solely on White Magic was, to put it kindly, difficult in Thanatos. Her parents frowned upon her when she made the choice to take a different path from the rest of the community. And she suffered every day for it, getting verbal abuse while walking down the street and having things thrown through her window while she slept. It didn't bother her, to and extent. She figured God would keep her out of harms way, that he would allow sinners to touch her so long as she believed in his word and helped spread it to all the world. That was exactly what she planned to do.

She walked over to the window, seeing the rain pounding against the sidewalk and trees, watching as random bursts of thunder shot across the sky, lighting it up for mere moments before fading back to the grey it was before. The light was quickly followed by ground shaking thunder, once again causing her to grab hold of a pew. It passed and she let go, stepping away from the window and taking a seat on a nearby bench. She took out one of the books, opening to the page with her favorite psalm on it and began to sing.

"You are my strength and my song, my God
I trust in you and I shall not fear.
My heart is dancing, if not my feet
before I even think of you, you are my creator;
it's you who sustain me on my journey
wherever I go, you are there before me....." Another crack of thunder interrupted her singing. Looking up, she saw the dome with a painted picture of God's hand, reaching towards her. She closed her eyes, silently praying that one day she could touch the welcoming hand of God and sit by his side. She hoped her life would lead her down that path and she hoped many people would follow her.

She set the book back into it's holder before standing up. She dusted off her robes and walked to the edge of the pews, doing the sign of the cross before walking back towards the window. She looked out and saw the rain beginning to calm. She smiled and walked to the back of the church, turning to bow towards the altar before opening the doors. A gust of wind welcomed her, blowing her robes out behind her and making her shiver all the way through her skin. She clutched her robes tight around her before taking a step outside and closing the doors behind her.

A heavy weight seemed to hit her. Not something physically , but mentally, a presence she didn't feel was welcome. This entire town made her feel that way but this presence made her grit her teeth. It was dark, uncaring, sinful and almost evil. It made her subconsciously grab onto the sac of Holy Water attached snuggly to her hip, holding it in a way that would allow for easy removal. She couldn't tell what it was that made her feel like that, it wasn't an energy she recognized. She hoped it would pass with the storm like an unwelcome guest does when the party ends. She hoped but didn't expect it to happen.

She hurried along the sidewalk, ignoring the hateful stares directed her way. Her hut wasn't far from where she was so the walk wouldn't be too torturous, even with the wind blowing against her, chilling her completely. She quickened her pace. The rain began to soak through her robe, turning the cold wind into sharp icicles. Her teeth chattered as she turned the corner onto her street. Even as the rain died down some more, the wind picked up, bringing with it the strong energy from before. They both seemed to get stronger as she walked along. She looked directly ahead, seeing her house not far in the distance. A few meters more and she would be inside and able to stop the chill from running her into hypothermia.

She took a few more quick steps and stopped. All the cold ceased replaced by the sense that something was not quite right. She looked around for something that seemed out of place. Seeing nothing, she took a few more steps. But the sensation continued, sending chills up and down her spine. What was wrong with this picture? She turned her head to look behind her, seeing a man walking in her direction. Or at least it looked like a man. She turned around to get a better look at him. He was walking in a way that disturbed her and she clutched onto her water tighter as he headed in her direction. He had an animal-like stride to him and a possessed look on his face. She eyed him, not in a fearful way anymore, but now very curiously. She took a step towards him, feeling the presence increase yet again. The pressure built and built as he got nearer. But she could only stare. What was wrong with this man? She figured if she was meant to know God would let her find out.

[Anonymous]

His steps were heavy, splashing water as he brought them down, growling in his throat as he passed by people, looking at them as if they were food. They would have all jumped away in fear if they could truly see his face, his mouth, see his curved teeth just wishing to bite into something. As a rather curvy woman passed him, he stopped to turn at her, his mouth opening and closing, almost as if chewing. He took a step after her, his hand raising to grab at her, but he stopped, realizing just in time what he was doing. There were rules. He was above most rules, but he knew that these people were of dark magic, and dark powers could still hurt him.

His feet twisted first, almost right around, giving him the most digusting look of having his lower half facing one direction and his top half facing the opposite. However, with a quick twitch he snapped around so he faced one direction, beginning his trek again through the city.

Aimless wandering became purposeful as something invaded his senses, filled his nose and his mind with a most terrible feeling. It was the feeling of Good, of Holy power, of...a pure religion. The man bit his tongue, hard, causing blood to spill into the confines of his mouth, but within moments the tongue healed itself up. The blood was eventually swallowed, well, more correctly it seeped down his throat. What was this power? It didn't call to him, it pushed him away, and he hated it.

To this creature, Strength was key, and he believed himself the strongest of them all. He would not be defeated by something as trivial as this. Despite it being a painful experience to confront your antithesis, it was something that had to be done however. He wanted to ensure his top supremacy, he would never give in, even if it killed him. He knew that his death would not be entirely permanent, his home, the Abyss, would give birth to his twisted soul once more, and he would return unabashed and uninhibited.

Slowly he lowered himself to the ground, his gauntlets slicing into the brick and mortar beneath his feet. The man breathed in deep before he let out a very disturbing noise. It was half a possessed yell, and half a demented growling. His gauntlets were pulled from the ground and he began to move. He still walked slow however, going after the particular scent. It was both a person, and a building. A building. Why would it be that? Perhaps the person spent so much time in it? Perhaps it was a focus. Yes...that was what people did when they had these powers...they went to building to gather. Oh, would there be a group? His eyes grew a brighter, more intense shade of red as he thought about it. Hundreds of people to desecrate, hundreds to hold his power over, the power, the only power that mattered.

He could feel that energy get close as he walked, he could follow its path and discover what gave it off. Something was ahead of him, something that had the power, something that incubated his most hated foe. As he approached, he noted the look, he noted the gender, and his delight found a female, most exquisite, his favourite of the genders. She was watching him, as he was watching her with a most intense gaze.

She smelled of it.

She was it.

She was perfect.

"She WATCHES us, with EYES so silver, so SHIMMERING and so soft." His voice was a harsh guttural growling sound, it was slightly deranged, the way he enunciated certain words with such a firmness. "We watch HER with eyes of red, of LUST and OF fire." He addressed her and himself as he stopped, crouching down with his legs bent outward to either side of his body. His hands were flat against the ground, his eyes raised however as he watched her. She couldn't see his mouth, at least not...not all of it. His tongue began to slip between the folds of the mask, the long pointed appendage was an obscene perversion. It was covered in saliva and traces of his own blood, yet like a snake he tasted the air before it slid back into the mask to disappear. "Delicious. Sweet AND supple, a fine WINE to ENJOY slowly. Very...slowly...so SLOWLY. His voice took on a different tone, it was almost like an animal whining for its favourite toy, which was probably one of the more disturbing things to hear.

[Anonymous]

Fear showed itself in strange ways. It took memories, experiences, knowledge and understanding, putting them together in a way that was virtually unusable. And when done right, fear can immobilize a being, petrifying them to an extent. It can drive a person paranoid, making them imagine something at every corner is out to get them. If one can make a person fearful to that level, they can have all power over them.

Acceptance is another odd character. It can nullify fear, driving it backwards so that nothing can touch the person. When someone accepts something, they no longer fear. They no longer want things to change, nor do they want to escape from it. But acceptance is hard to come by. It is difficult for beings such as humans or elves to accept that which is out of the ordinary or something they would want to have gone differently. When things become to strange for people to accept, they generally turn to fear. But until one can learn to accept that which they once feared, beings will have power over them always.

She stared at the being, taking small steps towards him as he advanced towards her in a manner most people shouldn't. She grew worried, afraid maybe he was hurt and trying to find someone to help. She couldn't leave a poor man injured. She was a being that would help, even if it meant putting herself at a disadvantage to do so. It would be worth it in the long run. She kept her eyes on the man, thinking there would be something she could do to help. She thought that until he lowered himself to the ground, letting a horrifying sound rip from his chest. She took a step back, nearly falling to the ground in surprise. A normal person would have turned and run, fleeing from the odd appearance and disturbing noise he had just made. But she couldn't look away. He was fascinating in a way she couldn't describe. It peaked her interest.

She leaned forward, seeing if maybe she could get a better look at him. As she did that, she saw him look up at her. His eyes locked on hers. Blood red. They were hypnotizing, holding her there, only to be able to stare at him.He began to speak. She was automatically broken from the trance. It was ear splitting, harsh, devil-like. She clutched her head as if to prevent it from bursting. Her eyes closed tight and she took a few more steps back, trying to find footing to stand on. He continued speaking, pronouncing some words harsher then others, each distinct word stabbing at her head. The energy from before showed itself stronger then before. It was obvious where it had been coming from. It shocked her, and, for the first time in many moons, she was terrified.

His tone changed slightly, begging almost, and it sent shivers up her spine. She opened her eyes, staring once again at the figure. His speaking ceased and she removed her hands from her ears, straightening her posture. She swallowed and took a few deep breaths. A silent prayer went through her head and she was back under control. She looked up at the sky, imagining God's hand guiding her with each move she made. Looking back at the figure, she smiled. She felt no more fear. God was with her, protecting her, guiding her. She blinked at the creature. "I don't know what you are talking about. No hand can harm me. I am forever under His protection." Thinking this was absolutely true, she set her face back to it's neutral expression with a slight sense of dominance over everything. She clutched the Water. With this and God by her side, nothing could touch her.

[Anonymous]

There was no denying that he had never been human before. He had not been born, created perhaps, willed into an existence of hatred, anger, and vast unyielding emotions. He was filled with his emotions, so strong, so powerful, so unrelenting. He thought himself an embodiment of all that the Abyss was. He was the anger, he was the hatred, he was...the hunger. The Abyss was perpetually hungry, it was an ever present void that always drew more in, and rarely did it give anything back. The only thing, to his minor knowledge, that it did give back had been him. For whatever reason, it gave him back, and that...was not something that worked out very well.

Why did this woman not run? She was not afraid, she was...unafraid? What bravery did she have? Was there courage in her body? His howl did break her slightly, it make her move away, and he was glad for that. She had fear, she could be afraid, that made his muscles tighten, it made him want to attack. It solely meant that she could be affected then. He had come across being, they were seen, and yet he could see through them. They were able to move through walls with ease. He hated them. He had learned how to attack them, how to grab them, pull them to him, how to rip them asunder, but they used so much of his power. It was an unfortunate turn of events really.

Then she reared back in pain. His words caused her harm, and they were not backed with anything but his own voice. He showed no amazement at her reaction, at least nothing visible. Instead, it was his heart that beat faster, his body reacting subtly to the thought that she could feel such pain. It was like they were stabbing her, gutting her, causing so much pain, and he enjoyed it. It made him want to talk more. As if he needed a reason to really.

He could talk enough without needing a reason.

Her obvious pain and suffering went with the last of his words, wondering what she was doing. His eyes travelled upwards as well, to look at the sky. The sound of the rain, the distant rumbling of thunder. Did she not know the storm was his omen? Was a marker of his arrival? Maybe she did, or maybe it was something else. He looked down to her as she looked at him, confusion apparent in his own eyes as he watched her. What was happening? Was the fear gone? It appeared and smelled as such. But that could not be! What could be so powerful to take the fear of him, of all that he could bring to her person? What stopped her from being afraid of him?

Then she spoke.

Saying he was annoyed was a great understatement. His hands clenched together, the clawed gauntlets making an awful screeching noise as the claws dragged along the inner palm. His teeth were bared like a feral animals underneath his mask.

A God.

He found his rage boiling to the surface. Thoughts of all sorts crossed and flashed through his mind. What was there to do? Kill? Maim? Kidnap? Rape? Right there in the street, to assert his dominance. She would be his. Dominance didn't always end in death, it could end in slavery, in a will being destroyed and replaced with another. She would kneel before him and accept him as a true power. As one that was here and now, and had no help from beyond, from some invisible being in the sky.

"He will NOT stop me. If he WISHES to, then let HIM stand between US and stop ME." The man brought himself up to a full standing position, slightly bent backwards with his clawed gauntlets in front of him, the spiked gauntlets pointing at her. He waited. There was nothing but the sound of distant rumbling thunder and rain dropping around them. It was just them it seemed. He let out a very low growl and started stepping toward her, he was slow, menacing, he had a hand raised upward, one clawed finger extended and pointing at her. "It appears THAT you have been LEFT alone." Despite the strange growl of a voice, there was an almost...sing song quality in his last words.

[Anonymous]

Even as a small child, she had believed that there was a higher being then any of that on earth. He had protected her all her life: the abusive powers of her dad, the psychopath that had attacked her family, killing her mom, the fire that eventually killed her dad. She had survived through it all. She was never sure why God had chosen her to protect, but she repaid him by devoting her life to spreading his word. She named herself as his disciple, his follower, and as far as she could tell, she was the only person truly devoted. It didn't bother her. It just made her try harder to complete her job and fulfill her destiny.

The screeching noise didn't bother her. In fact, compared to him talking, it was rather soothing. She continued staring at him, tilting her head upwards slightly so she was looking down at him like a scolding teacher. It helped to strengthen her will to stay where she was and it relieved some of the pressure from the energy he let off. She kept her face calm and serene, her eyes gentle but cautious for any shift he did. Overall, she appeared calm, maybe even bored with the man who was probably the biggest threat she would ever encounter in her life. Her breathing was on the edge of normal and harsh. But she just muttered a prayer before she lost control of her emotions.

She stood her ground, wincing visibly as he spoke once more. It burned her ears and made her head throb. But she fought against collapsing inwards as she had before. After a few seconds his voice ceased and he straightened his posture. He bent backwards, and she watched as his spine curved behind him. He growled at her, raising an arm, pointing at her. It made her slightly uncomfortable and she fought against her instinct to flee, still standing where she was. She stared at him as he crept towards her, pointing at her still. He spoke once more, shaking her slender frame with the devilish energy pulsing out of him with each word. Her teeth snapped shut and she closed her eyes tight, fighting against the scream that wanted to erupt from her throat.

He neared her, closing the distance between them at a painfully slow pace. It was far too late to try and escape. She figured he would either be able to outrun her, cutting off any chance of escaping, or be able to search her out, cutting off any chance of hiding. So she stood her ground, thinking of ways to get herself out of the mess she found herself in. She looked up at the sky, allowing the rain to fall onto her face. She whispered a small prayer, barely audible to the human ear. She asked God to protect her, keep her out of harms way, keep her mind set right, keep her alive.

She inhaled, feeling refreshing power enter her body, radiating off her skin. Some might say she glowed, her aura so strong it was able to be seen by those who didn't believe in auras. She smiled, closing her eyes and raising her arms as more and more power flowed through her. Her eyes snapped open, glowing white eyes where the silver once was. She looked at the man, smiling angelically. "I will never be alone."

[Anonymous]

It was the way she looked at him.

She was haughty, she was arrogant, she had a look about her that was unafraid. His blood was hotter than the fury of Hell's fire at this time. He was even giving off a strange mist, that strange dark red mist. He didn't like it, he didn't want her to look at him like that. It made him feel weak, and there was nothing worse than when he felt weak. He could handle the arrogance, but the fact he felt weak? No, that was something that he wouldn't stand for, and from someone like her? His rage was building, and his control was starting to disappear.

There was fear as he walked closer, the smell was in the air again. He loved that smell, he also loved the smell of death, of blood, and rotting flesh, those were all good smells as well. He found that some people didn't think the same way really, and it really bothered him. They were powerful smells, they spoke of such volumes, of such power, of such great times, and yet others felt it wasn't. That was not...something that should be.

He could hear her say something in the rain as she looked upward to the sky, no doubt talking to her invisible friend in the sky. There was a small hint of confusion as something began to happen to her. She was glowing, literally, and her eyes shone white. He let out a very angry growl as he watched her carefully. He was hesitating however, should he grab her? Should he attack? Should he exert his power? His dominance? Yes. He should.

His hands grabbed her arms, near her shoulders, the claws of his gauntlets digging into her skin. His long tongue pushed his mask out of his way, and his lips were suddenly upon hers. There was a strange sizzling sound as their lips connected. The smell of flesh being cooked began to rise from him, but he did not notice as his tongue was forced into her mouth, harsh and invading. He held her there, stopping her from escaping, keeping her in the feral embrace. When he pulled back from her lips, his tongue slide from her mouth, extended still and wiggling in the air as he let rain fall upon it and cool it.

"I agree...you will never be alone." He looked down at her, his tongue retreating, showing off his slightly burnt mouth, but baring his teeth, those sharp, dangerous, and animalistic teeth. She could damage his body, she could cause his flesh to boil, but he felt no pain. For him, pain and pleasure were intermixed, they were the same sensation, and they only helped to solidify his lust. Attacking him, trying to hurt him, kill him, for Thinker, it was all foreplay.

There would be trouble for the poor woman.

[Anonymous]

She struggled hard to hold her stance the way it was. She had nothing to fear for God would keep her away from any hand only willing to hurt. But she couldn't help feeling as if she truly was alone, left to defend herself from this strange creature hobbling towards her. The thought made her tremble slightly, but she quickly recovered herself, not allowing it to take her over. She kept her head up, feeling the power course through her veins, reassuring her that she definitely was not alone.

But he neared her in a more animalistic way then before. It sent her heart pounding. She no longer felt as if she were face to face with a strange man. She felt as if she were a piece of meat waiting to be ripped apart. She felt her confidence slipping, slowly turning to fear with each step that he took. She looked back, judging how far her house was from her. A good distance that she could make if she sprinted. She turned to run but it was too late. He had her.

His hands grabbed a hold of her, digging deeply into her skin. She inhaled sharply through her teeth, making a light hissing noise. She shut her eyes tight, trying to nullify the pain in her arms. But after a moment she felt his lips press against hers. Her eyes shot open, staring in horror at the man. What was he doing?! She grabbed his arms, trying to push herself from his hold, but it was no use. He had her, and there was nothing she could do to escape. She smelt something foul, something she couldn't recognize. Something burning. Her eyebrows pushed together and she closed her eyes, only wishing it to be over. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, making her gag slightly. She was disgusted, horrified. But then he pulled away from her and she opened her eyes again. What the hell just happened?

She looked up at him, fear clearly showing in her eyes now. She looked at his mouth, bleeding an burnt, and winced. Her stomach turned over and she trembled at the sound of his voice. She struggled against him once more, trying to escape and flee to her own sanctuary. His words sounded as if he was thinking something different then she. She could only hope in her mind that they were the same.

She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath, and smiled smugly at him, trying her best to erase the fear. She felt God, still with her, protecting her. If he was planning on hurting her or anything, he would have to try harder then that. "Is that the best you can do? God is with me. You can't harm me." She hoped she was right.

[Anonymous]

Fear.

That's all she had wasn't it? The power of her God didn't seem to be helping her all that much. He didn't stand between them, he didn't stop him from approaching her, he didn't appear to do anything. What kind of God was so...impotent? Even he had more power than that, and yet she firmly believed that this God would help her. He wasn't helping her at all, despite giving her some of that holy power that he hated so much. It meant nothing, because a true God would stop him, would banish him back to whence he came. Yet he stood there, had challenged the God to stop him. They had rules after all, they couldn't interfere, they couldn't change free will, they had no choice but to watch as their followers were...

Desecrated.

She tried to escape his grasp, but he had a firm hold on her. She was his now. He would show her this, he would let her know that she would have no God other than him. He was the beginning, and he would be her end, but her end would not come quickly, it would not come fast, and already he had plans for her. Shed off the skin of her life and embrace him, draw strength from him.

Ah yes...make her a bride.

She fought his grip, she fought his embrace, she fought his tongue, she fought everything about him, and he understood that if barely. She wanted to escape his evil, but soon she wouldn't live without it. She wouldn't be able to live without his evil, he would condition her, he would force her to want him. Soon she would only know his embrace, his touch, his passion, his lust. He would own her, he would have her straight to the soul, and she would willingly follow and obey.

She spoke smugly to him, trying to antagonize him, which worked. One hand slid up to her shoulder, ripping the rope she wore, while the other tangled into her hair and he pulled her head back to expose her neck. His tongue slipped back out of the confines of his mask and ran along her neck. Though his tongue sizzled as it touched her flesh, it left a trail of saliva as it licked along her flesh. His tongue disappeared into the confines of his mask as he suddenly brought her close to him, his body pressed roughly against hers. He leaned down slightly, putting his mouth near her ear. "You are MINE now, I will be ALL you ever need. Embrace ME, all you need IS my power." He told her, his voice was different, still harsh but it had such a quality that wasn't as evil or as dark, it didn't have that quality.

It was what one might call...gentle for him.

"You must BE branded, the world MUST know that you are NO one else's." The term bride was a little too...abstract, a sanction was not what this would be. Master and slave was a whole lot more appropriate, but with the right conviction, the right attitude, he would not be the master, he would only be but the slave. For now however, he wanted her to be his. He wanted to make her his slave, to follow him, to need him, to want him.

[Anonymous]

All her life, God has surrounded her choices. He has influenced every action she has done, every thought that has passed through her brain, every word that she has said in her life. He was her universe and she was a mere mortal who was lucky to be alive today. She loved him and thus far he has always protected her. Not once has her faith faltered.

But while standing there in the hands of this strange man, facing possible death, she couldn't help wondering whether God was truly there, helping her and protecting her. The glow around her started to fade and she felt the power slipping from her. She felt weak, helpless, Scared.

For the first time in her life, she felt alone.

His hands, his tongue, his lips, his body. She feared it all. She wanted it to escape him. She wanted to go back to a place where she felt safe, warm and comfortable with herself. But as the power and life drained out of her, she felt like submissing to him, doing whatever it took to survive. She wanted him to let her go, show her mercy, but in her mind she knew he wouldn't be so kind. She knew she would suffer for her words.

His hand slid up her shoulder, sending a fit of shivers up her spine. It sliced the shoulder of her robe, forcing half of it to fall to her side, though still fully covering her. He grabbed her hair and pulled back on it, and her head followed. The rain fell on her exposed neck before she felt his tongue draw a line upwards across it, which sent her into another fit of shivers. She whimpered slightly, no longer feeling the safe shelter of God around her. She muttered a small prayer, hoping it would bring the safe feeling back. She wasn't willing to give up completely, not yet.

He pulled her close, pressing his body against hers in some sort of insane tango. He led, making each move, forcing her to follow in step. His words were the music, gentler then before, said in almost a rhythmic way. She readied herself to make the next move, to be in the lead, controlling him. She smiled at him, gripping his arms. When wanting to take the lead, do the unexpected. She leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. Intensity rose. It was his move. She would not let him make a move on her that she didn't expect. She wouldn't fear him anymore. She wouldn't let him take her God from her anymore.

[Anonymous]

Though her power slowly ebbed, he could only feel like he had won in a way. His power had won over her power, and she was submitting. Her fear told him volumes, that she had been no match for him. Not that it surprised him of course, he was all powerful, he had the focus of the Abyss with him, while her invisible friend didn't seem to give much. Sure his flesh was singed, but it had been enjoyable. His power alone had conquered over hers, and now she would be his and only his.

He would ensure that all would know it too.

Thinker wanted to own her, body and soul, first he would mark her body, make her know that she was his, and that she would never stop being his either. Then he would mark her soul, he would infect her with his unique brand of debauchery and sin, taint the very core, the very essence, and ensure that there would be no salvation, that there be no power but his. He wondered if her body betrayed her, if his ministrations along her flesh were enjoyable, or if she shivered out of fear and disgust. The latter was more likely, but as her power weened from her, he would be able to do so much more.

Her actions surprised him, she was the one to take him and to press her lips to him. The action surprised him, but as his flesh didn't singe, he could only intensify the kiss. His tongue once more wormed into her mouth, though this time it didn't brutally assault, but it still invaded into the confines. His gauntlet was freed from her hair, and he began to drag the sharp point of his index finger down her back, slicing through the garment that she wore. He pulled away from her kiss, his head raising upward to the sky, his long tongue catching drops of water from the rain upon it. Truly and absolutely, she had accepted him. Despite what she thought, that she was fighting him by doing all of this, she was actually encouraging. Then again, fighting him in any way encouraged him, and acceptance encouraged him, so it seemed increasingly difficult to try and deny him.

"You will accept MY mark upon YOUR flesh." He told her as he looked down at the woman clutched in his arms, pressed against him in a twisted embrace. "And with OUR embrace, we shall LOCK our bodies in OUR desire. You HAVE become mine, and you WILL obey my WILL." He leaned down to beside her face, his tongue coming out to taste the flesh of her cheek before he spoke again. "Find me WHERE the dead REST. Amongst the SOULS of those LOST we shall BE one." He had yet to make her his, to assert his full dominance over her. It was to make her GIVE her body to him, to force her into submission with pure, animalistic intent, burning desire and lust that coursed so richly through his veins. She would walk, with clothes ripped and torn, with the knowledge that he could expose her to the world at any time. She would walk, knowing that she was his, and that his will was supreme. She would walk, his will guiding her, his strength pushing her, the darkness of his twisted soul enveloping her.

She would walk.

[Anonymous]

Just standing there took a toll on her. His presence, his power, his will over her. It drained her. It was as if he took hold of her energy, her power, her existence and pulled it.  He pulled it, fed on it, draining every ounce she had. Her knees threatened to give out from underneath her. Her body threatened to give up, forcing her to collapse in his arms, to fully give up herself to him. But she wasn't willing to, not yet. She used the energy she could find to keep herself standing. She used it to keep herself there, physically and mentally. She grasped onto anything she could think of to give her energy and strength: her life, her family, her religion...her God.

The thought made her smile.

She kept her breathing slow, rhythmic. His tongue once again invaded her mouth. He was gentler this time...a very loose meaning of the word. But she let him do what he would, not trying to fight him off like last time. His touch, as much as it disgusted her, fueled her power. She felt herself growing stronger, though the power was not of that before. He was fueling her, giving her back what he had stolen. But she felt attached to him, as if the power was linked to a string and he held one end of it, willing to rip it from her if he felt he needed to. But she didn't care. She only wanted energy to fight back and he was giving it to her. She smiled beneath his lips He ran his finger down her back, a sensation that sent her shivering with both delight and disgust. Her heart raced. She longed for more power. She wanted to conquer him. She wanted to push him back into the depths of hell where he belonged. She wanted to be the one to come out victorious. But she didn't know how to do it, or if it was possible for that matter. But she had to try, didn't she?

Would she be able to?

He released her from his hold on her mouth. His tongue retreated, tasting the rain as it fell. He spoke to her again, raising the goose bumps on her arms. She looked up at him, clutching onto the fabric that was his shirt. She absorbed each word, taking them in, digesting them, searching for anything that would help her. But as she listened, her stomach twisted in a sickly fashion. One thing had become very clear to her. This man was not willing to listen to negotiation. He knew what he wanted and no amount of talking would get her out. She grew lightheaded when she came to this conclusion. She was not fit to fight a small child, much less a man with spikes for fingers and a will to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Her knees shook, but she stood, wrapped in his sick embrace. She shut her eyes tight, forcing down the scream that was building up inside her. If she was going to have any chance of fighting him off, escaping unharmed, she was going to have to refrain from showing any more weakness then she already had. So she inhaled deeply, shaking slightly as she did so.

When she felt her control was back, she dared another look into the face of her captor. He was glancing down at her, his red eyes burning red deep into her, cutting into her mind like a knife. She trembled, trying to control herself and keep herself sane. But how was she supposed to stay sane in the hands of a psychopath?! Her hands tightened around the fabric she was holding, using it more as a support now. It began to tear, forcing her to be thrown slightly off balance. She fell into him, bracing herself against his chest. The blood ran from her face and she felt cold all over. She took another deep breath before looking down at the ground. She exhaled, her breath fogging the air, showing the chill of the day. With her breath, she released energy, strength, will power to fight. Each breath after that, she felt herself growing weaker once again,giving up parts of herself, no longer willing to fight. She exhaled. Good bye family. She exhaled. Good bye life. She exhaled. Good bye religion. She exhaled...

Good bye God.

[Anonymous]

He was power, he was strength, he was rage, he was desire, he was all that he loved, all that he craved. He always craved more, he always desired new things, but he was innately satisfied with himself. It was an odd thing that he was, but he was quite at peace with himself. That was perhaps a strange thing. Did he even know peace? Did he understand such things? He was chaos, he was disorder, but at the same there was a logic to him. It wasn't the normal logic, it was twisted and perverted beyond the word of what most people defined logic, but he had a way of operation that could almost be...predicted.

Did she know how much trouble she was in? Their kiss, passionate on his part, while surely not as much on her end. There was that shiver again from her, and he had to wonder what did it. He didn't understand things like disgust and even being cold. It wasn't in his capacity, so he could only believe it was from the baser instincts of the woman. He had learned that people were, for the most part...simple in their ways. Their minds and bodies were two completely different things. The body was easy to manipulate, they had automatic responses, and while the minds could fight, and the minds could try and rationalize, the body still responded. That was probably what excited him the most.

Despite resistance from the mind...the body responded.

She was frightened again, he could feel it, he could see it in her eyes, he could see it all around her, he could smell it, and he loved it. She tore at his shirt, ripped the long strips of cloth and caused her to stutter and grip onto him. He didn't wear the clothes for modesty, he didn't have any, though he at least understood it. He wore them because...he had been created with them. They were familiar, they were known to him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him, revelling in the warm body against his own. It was what he wanted, it was what he desired, but he was sure that he wouldn't be satisfied with just her body of course, not after she had taunted him with her God, with her...power. Her will, her body, her mind, he wanted it all, and one by one...he'd break them probably.

He wanted to be around the dead now though. The smell of graveyards were...nice to him, the thought of souls being trapped or harboured there, of all the dead and those who were too weak to survive. For Thinker, the thought of dying was...one that wasn't a good outlook. He would die, his soul would go to the Abyss, and he would be reborn. His rage would increase, and he would seek vengeance. Even if he had to die a thousand times, he would return, and he would always search for the person who was stronger than him, who killed him.

A graveyard.

In a move that was swift, he picked the woman up, holding her in his arms roughly as he growled to himself. The graveyard. He took in a few deep breaths of air through his nose, catching the scent. Grave dirt had a peculiar smell, a particular scent that he was just so familiar with. He crouched slightly as he began to turn on his heels, looking for the appropriate direction. He caught it, even in the rain, with it dampening the ability of any olfactory senses, he still found it. That's when he took off a run, his legs carrying the both of them, ducking into alleys and even at one point scaling over a small house. He used only his legs, propelling him from wall to wall until he pulled himself up onto the rooftop and dashed across it. The jump down was rough, but when he landed he was off again, his new toy in his arms, carrying them both through the city. Graveyard. He would make her swear fealty to him, loyalty to his strength, to his desire and his will, among the dead. In his mind it was fitting, if she was any weaker she would be in the grave, but she survived, so amongst those weaker than her, she would swear to him and his power.

"You shall ENJOY so many NEW things soon. With my POWER you shall know TRUE strength, you shall SEE true power at my SIDE." Thinker growled quietly to her, already excited about the prospect of what to come. After she gave herself to him, they would finish the oath by consummating it. Like his views on anything, sex could be about two things. One was lust, pleasure, desire, it was a culmination of a body's wants and needs, to overflow with an intense orgasmic sensation. The other was to show dominance. It was for the partner to know that their body didn't belong to them, that it wasn't theirs to decide what would happen to it. It happened in nature, males showing dominance over each other in such a way.

He liked nature that way.

[Anonymous]

She never had given much thought to how she would die. Then again no one ever does. But death was not something that scared her. It was a passing from one life to the next. It was the passing from a mortal life where mistakes were made often to an immortal life where mistakes were nonexistent. She felt no need to fear it. The thought of sitting next to her God for all eternity comforted her.

But she never thought much about how she would get there.

If she had to choose a way to die, it would be peacefully in her sleep, drifting calmly from life to death, from solid earth to the gates of heaven. It would disturb no one and no one would ever question it. But not all deaths were like that, not everyone was that lucky. So she never expected to die like that. Death was an interesting thing. It was so destructive, so violent sometimes that people had learned to fear it.

But no one has ever stopped to think about it. It wasn't death that was violent, it was life. Life is so fragile, so easily broken or destroyed that sometimes it makes things more violent then they need to be. If people accepted death, they wouldn't try so hard to hold onto the life they lived. If they realized that immorality would be just around the corner waiting for them, they wouldn't have anything to fear. Why hold onto a mortal, imperfect life when perfection was waiting in heaven? Then again, people were confusing sometimes, holding onto materialistic things on earth, refusing to let them go. She didn't understand, but she never questioned it.

But what she did question was why she was so scared of him. He could kill her, but she shouldn't fear that. She saw him capable of more then that, but she figured he would kill her eventually, only bringing her closer to God, her savior. So what did she have to fear? But then she looked at him, his savage look. The way he spoke to her, enunciating some words more then others, and the words he used. He was not looking to kill. He was looking to own. And he would not quit until he owned it all.  

And she was on his list.

He scooped her up quickly, cradling her roughly against his chest. Her breath escaped her mouth, shaking slightly as it did. He could sense she was afraid, she knew that. She tried to hide it, but it was too late. He knew, and he wouldn't forget. She showed weakness. And he took advantage of that. She would not be able to escape easily. She feared he would track her, find her and kill her if she tried. Another shiver rolled through her. He was looking around, trying to find something she didn't know of. He turned on his heels, sniffing the air as he did so. Then he stopped, seeming to have found what he had been searching for. He took off at a sprint, flying through the town like he wasn't carrying any extra weight.

She watched as the buildings flew past her on both sides. He was running and jumping over everything with little care. She grabbed onto him, holding herself close to his chest. In the pit of her stomach she felt as if something was more wrong then she thought possible. She was unsure with the situation, praying for it to be over, praying to be back in her house, back where everything was familiar to her. She glanced around her, trying to find anything she recognized. But she found nothing. She was lost with a man she feared, unsure of when, or if, she would ever be certain of anything again. He jumped between walls, slowly making his way up to the roof. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see where they were going. Her heart pounded, waiting in anticipation for anything. She didn't know exactly what, but she felt that nothing good would come out of the situation.

Her voice had escaped her. She wanted to protest, to fight against him with her words, to possibly beg for mercy if needed. But something in her prevented her from saying anything to stop him. She feared speaking up may upset him more. But he spoke, his sentences broken and distorted. She glanced at him, his growl enhancing the fear in her. But his words allowed her to find her voice momentarily. "Where...are we...going?" she looked up at him, still clutching the fabric laced around his body. She wanted to be home, back in the warmth and the familiar.

But she had a feeling that where he was taking her would be he new home.

[Anonymous]

Despite his resilience and strength, Thinker feared Death in some small way. Death meant loss, it meant that you couldn't hold your own. Being alive was the ultimate show of victory really. If you were alive, and others weren't, it meant that you won. While dying meant going to the Abyss and returning at some later date, it still meant he had lost, that he had died, and that he was no longer the clear winner. That very much angered him, and if he could, he would challenge death itself. That however wasn't a very likely idea really, he never knew Death to be some physical force, it was just...something that happened. It was too abstract to fight and for him to wrestle with. His mind just couldn't put it into words or a proper thought.

His focus would be on the material plain now, on the world before him that he could touch, taste, smell, hear, and see. It was no doubt funny if one thought about it. Right there in the middle of the streets of a place that worshipped death and necromancy, were two being so opposite to each other. One creature, twisted by darkness and 'evil', concerned only for Life and what happened in it, while another, so pure and self sacrificing, concerned with what will happen after life ends. It was really quite a funny thought, and now the two of them had been brought together into one strange union. Granted that one of the participants had no choice on the issue, at least, there had been one but it had been given up.

Fighting and struggling against a superior force was usually foolhardy, and no one really sang songs about those people.

There was so much fear in the woman he had in his arm, against his chest, holding her to him like a child holding an oversized doll. She was his, she had given into him and now she had no choice. She didn't fight, didn't resist, she welcomed him. In his mind, it was because she accepted his power, that he was real, that unlike her invisible friend, he could hold sway over life and death, and that his power was absolute. Through faith she could make herself glow, and it would hurt him, but when she asked, and he demanded that her God come to him and stop him...there had been nothing but the rain. He however was there, able to force his will upon her, able to do whatever he pleased to her.

The rich smell of fear in the air, from her, from those around, made his mouth water and his chest heave in anticipation. It had been a while since he had gotten to truly enjoy himself, and now he had found a new little pet for himself. He could vaguely recall the others, from so...very long ago. The women he had claimed as his, made his, turned into his 'brides' as it were. He even felt a longing for a few of them, but their souls were long gone by now, they had disappeared so long ago from him, taken by death.

It meant that he was the clear victor.

She finally spoke back to him, clutching his clothing and trying desperately not to fall off. "To where THE dead rest of COURSE. You should HAVE been listening when I ASKED you to take ME there." She had not been listening, and she would be punished for that later as well. There was no place for ignoring his words, no place for her to not listen and heed what he said. She would pay for that, in some way or another, she would pay for it. He would make her pay, he would make her bleed, he would make her scream, and he would make her love it. Thinker was vaguely aware that after a while, the brain would compensate in some way to a situation, they would either love it, or just not feel it. For her sake, she would hopefully start to love it. If she started to go numb, she was useless to him.

He ran, so fast, ignoring all obstacles by simply vaulting them or going around them. He could feel their destination getting closer and closer, and soon, he found himself scaling a fence and into the graveyard. Tombstones were all around, some simple and simply reading a name, some just a small bit of stone to show where a body rested. Others were more magnificent, more impressive, like a statues of mythological or religious beings. He however, just set her down in front of one tombstone, before he vaulted onto it, crouching on it like a gargoyle, staring at the woman he had brought here.

He said nothing for now, he wanted to see how she reacted. He wanted to know what she would say, if she would stay down on the ground in submission, or if she would pick herself up and try to fight him. She would find that he was a formidable opponent still, and he would fight till his last breath. He would show her power, dominance, all that he was capable of, all his rage, all his hate, all his power, she would know it by heart soon enough.

And she would become his, and she would serve him, submit to him, accept his power, and he would revel in every second of it, with every fibre of his being.

[Anonymous]

There was rhythm everywhere. There was rhythm in the fall of the rain against the pavement, the trees, the buildings. There was rhythm in the cracks of thunder and lightning that appeared in the sky, counting the moments in their own natural way. There was rhythm in their heart beats, his moving quick from running, hers moving quickly out of fear. There was rhythm in their breathing, his chest rising and falling harshly, as if he was exciting about something. His footsteps fell rhythmically, quickly, clearly large distances in a short amount of time.

She wished the rhythm would stop.

The wanted the pattern to cease, to stop bringing her closer to a fate she didn't know or wouldn't understand. She could only imagine what this man...this animal had in store for her. She could only let her mind wander too far before the thoughts got to painful...to frightening to think about. She contemplated many things he could do, all ending in a tremendous amount of physical pain to her. So she forced her mind to wander elsewhere. She thought of her morning, how she thought nothing unique would come out of it. She thought about her church, her house, her family...

She let her mind wander to her memories of her mother and father, a territory she wouldn't normally revisit.  She didn't like thinking about them, especially not her father, her abusive father. She didn't like thinking about the punishments she got as a child, the punishments she never really deserved. She hated him so, but not for that reason. She hated him not because he abused her, but because he hurt her mom. She hated it when her mom was hurt. Her mom had always been there for her, comforting her when she needed it, loving her when the world seemed against her. Her mother was her protector on this planet.  

But her true savior was God.

And she was letting him down.

She couldn't believe she had been so stupid. All her life she had relied on God to be there for her, but nothing ever came to test her loyalty. She had been safe all her life ever since she devoted her life to him. And now in her time of need, a time when her loyalty and devotion would be greatly tested, she let him go. She let fear and...and this man take over her, almost persuading her to let go of the only thing she had been able to hang onto. The only thing that reminded her of her past, of her mother, her solid savior. She let human emotions take her over instead of staying true to the one good thing left in her life. And in doing so, she let go of all hope of getting through this.

Her heart increased its rhythm.

The buildings flew by quickly until there was only the openness of the town. He leaped obstacles as if they didn't exist, barely breaking stride to do so. She felt her hands clench tighter onto his clothing. She listened to his words, her throat drying up when she realized her mistake. She had just caused more problems for herself because she had been negligent. And she would pay for it in the future. And by the look of the graveyard, the future was closer then she thought. She tensed up as he leaped the fence, landing in the cemetery. This is where he had been leading her? She should have known.

He set her down, an act that surprised her. He leaped above her, perching on the tombstone. He looked even more animalistic now then before, staring her down like she was a toy, a meal for him. She couldn't move, couldn't work her muscles to pick herself up. Fear was controlling her now. She had to settle her nerves if she was going to be able to try anything. She placed her hands on the ground on either side of her. She pushed herself to her knees. She looked up at the man, his posture unchanged. She muttered a desperate prayer, trying to see if God could help her now. She felt a small amount of energy flow through her, allowing her to rise to her feet.

Now what?

Her knees shook underneath her, threatening to give out and force her back to the ground. She hunched over, arms out slightly. Her hair fell in her face, wet and cold, and she stared at him. She stared, showing any and all of the strength she could gather. She muttered a prayer again, allowing some of the glow from before to reappear. But it was no longer the white color from before, tainted with the presence of this creature on her skin. She didn't feel as powerful as she had before, as confident, but she didn't feel weak anymore. Her heart picked up its pace some more. She swallowed, staring into the eyes of the man before her. She wasn't sure what her plan was, but she wasn't going to let him take her down without a fight. She held onto the pouch of water at her hip, almost begging him to try and fight her.

Wow she was being stupid today.

[Anonymous]

It would all end eventually.

The man clutched the woman against him like a prized teddy bear. He didn't particularly want her getting away from him, escaping from what fate she had chosen for herself. She could have fought, she could have tried, but then again, she was up against something that found everything to be a challenge, and the desire to defeat that challenge. Even giving up, as she had, which should have been a safe thing to do, had ended in a very tragic manner. Now she was in the clutches of a man who could be more related to some strange animal, some creature from some Hellish world.

In his mind, he had won. He was the victor here, because there was no opposition, just the recognition. Of his strength, of his power, and of his victory. He had his reward, this woman, and he would enjoy his reward for sure. It was a crude system sure, but it worked for him at least.

The cemetery was a perfect place to go. If he had any idea that she was a nun of sorts, that the dead were given rites by her usually, that she had some connection to the dead in a spiritual way, he would have found it hilarious. However, he could not quite grasp the irony, or the particular situation he was in. All he knew was this place smelled the most like the dead, and he wanted her to swear an oath to him. That meant the dead would need to be present.

He stuck there on the tombstone, looking at her, watching her, wondering about her. Words weren't thought about, not yet, not until he watched her, observed her and tried to see what she would do here. He could hear her mutter something, no doubt talking to her invisible friend as usual. Had she not learned? He was the one that she would worship and that she should ask power from. This however was not the case, but soon she would learn, soon she would swear the oath to him. It would make her his completely, her soul would belong to him, as well as her body of course. That was just an added bonus really...she may not have it for very long.

The creature stared, his frame moving slowly as he breathed heavy, his eyes burning as he watched her carefully. "Now is when WE shall have fun. REMOVE the cloth that hides your BODY, you won't be NEEDING it anymore, not now AT least." When he spoke, his hands dug into the tombstone he perched upon, the gauntlets ripping into the stone rather easily. "Or if YOU prefer, I can RIP them from you AND then you can be PUNISHED." It was an odd growl that was coming from him now. It was laden with lust, desire, and anger, something she probably didn't want to hear from the beast.

He moved, bringing one hand up, ripping stone from the tombstone he sat upon, grinning under his mask at her. "And I would SO enjoy punishing YOU." He let the chunks of rock fall away, his hand returning to the tomb stone, gripping it tightly as he watched her.

[Anonymous]

The energy she used to keep herself standing was a funny thing. It was as if it had a mind, able to sense the false faith she had. It gave her energy but recognized right away that her faith wavered. So it pulled back, taking her initial strength with it, leaving her with nothing. Her knees wavered, feeling weak, and eventually collapsed underneath her. She didn't understand what was going on. She had never had her power fail her like this. But the strength was gone, leaving behind her body. Fear had taken over, eating any remaining strength she had. Her chest heaved, grasping at anything she could to keep herself from falling all the way to the ground.

God was gone.

She was on her knees, legs tucked underneath her. She stared at the ground, hair covering her face from his. She placed her hands on the ground, palms flat, touching the grass covering the resting place of the body below. She felt they were lucky, whoever rested beneath the earth, oblivious to what was going on above. They didn't have to worry about fear, strength. They didn't have to worry about rape, torture. They could rest peacefully, ignoring the factors that those who lived worried about. The dead, they were the lucky ones.

She could only imagine the feeling the person must have had, resting forever in an endless sleep. She could only hope death would come to her soon, freeing her from the hands of the man before her. She wanted away from him, away from his power, his influence, his energy. But it would never be that easy. She challenged him, she ignored his words, and she fought against him. He would make her pay. He would punish her, though how he would do that she was not sure.

But she still didn't want to give up, didn't want to surrender herself to him or his power.

She would fight on still, not with her fists so much as her actions. He asked her to strip down, rid herself of the material around her body. It was ripped in several places and it took more energy to keep on then it would be to let it slide off her shoulders. She could so easily obey him and reveal herself to him, but she refused to give him what he wanted. She shivered ferociously when she made the decision to go against his commands. She knew what it would mean, knew she would suffer for her actions, but she refused to give herself up to him.

She dug her nails into the ground, looking up at the man. She almost burst out laughing when she saw he was doing a similar thing to the tombstone he sat upon. Though fear pulsed through her veins, she still found the will to fight against him. She wasn't sure why she was choosing now to be foolish. She had always done what she was told. She always took into consideration those ideas she never agreed with. She always tried something before denying the idea all together. But now, when her life was at stake, she denied listening to him at all. She challenged his power once again without saying a word.

She let a smile cross her lips.

She inhaled sharply, staring at him. She stared at his eyes. She stared at his body. She stared at the cloth wrapped around him. She smile widened a bit. She felt craziness in her now, almost a psychotic mind set replacing the one she had before. She felt wild, challenging anything, willing to fight her way through anything. She felt like him. She opened her mouth. "no...." That would be enough of a response, setting him off. She wanted to see what he would do, not worried about how it would happen, what would happen to her. She wanted to see his reaction, see how far he was willing to go. And in doing that she also wanted to see how far she was willing to go, how far she could be pushed until her breaking point.

[Anonymous]

Thinker could almost see her strength just draining from her body, that initial burst of power seemed to be fading, she seemed to be losing herself quickly. That was quite enjoyable honestly, the power she had asked for wasn't exactly holding up to her standards, wasn't holding up to all that she wished. He was taking great pleasure in watching her falter, in watching her slowly lose everything. Finally she wasn't going to fight him even just a little, she was going to accept that there was no strength but personal strength. Any strength given by the power above wouldn't last, it would fade, but his strength had been earned permanently. It would never fade away, it would never be taken by time, or by someone casting some spell.

She was losing her power, and it was shown when she fell to her knees. He took pleasure from this moment, his posture straightened up considerably from it. All he wished was for her to see that she could not fight, and that she should not fight either. There was no need for her to fight him, for her to go against him.

She just had to accept that he was her God now. Was that so difficult?

She stayed there however, on her knees, in such a submissive position. She had tried to stand, tried to fight his will, but it just ended with her falling back to her submissive state. She kept trying to fight, kept trying to attack and kept trying her best to stand against his will. She would find it useless, her will was not something that was even close to being a threat, her power, though it hurt, would not stop him or slow him. His body could burn, but his spirit, his will, his power, would never feel the flame's touch.

Despite everything, telling her to a command, showing her what he could do, she faltered and fought against him. She wanted to play a game? She wanted to see if she could fight against him then...that was really quite interesting. It was a terribly stupid move on her part, all things considered, but it meant she had fight, that she had will left still, and that she would be a feisty one.

He liked that very much.

Challenging him, fighting him, trying to stand head to head against him and his will, the entire thought was just...delightful. She would make for a good bride so to speak. Marriage was abstract, but bride and groom sounded better than master and slave. Though he was the master, always was, and always would be, groom sounded more...sophisticated. It wouldn't be a happy ceremony however, there wouldn't be rings involved, there wouldn't be a bunch of happy people celebrating, no priest, no party, there would be just...them...and an Oath that she would swear.

Something seemed to change in his bride as she stared at him. He felt confused as he watched the woman before him. Something weird was happening, something strange, something that he couldn't explain or figure out. Then she spoke, she said that word, that one little word....that was probably the worst thing in the world to say to him. She said no. He knew that meant more punishment, and his heart beat quickly at the very thought of it, so much stronger. His form began to heave as his rage began to surface once more. He had been so calm, but now...now she would have to pay.

Unless that meant she wanted him to do it?

Slowly his hands came up to his face, to slowly remove the face mask and his hood. He wasn't an altogether bad looking man, the dagger sharp teeth probably took something away from it, but he had a slender look to him, an almost Elven face, long black hair, and then...the red eyes. They no longer smoldered in the sockets, but burned bright as he gazed deeply at her.

"Buuuuuuurn." The word was drawn out, and his eyes slowly seemed to lose that intense burn as the gauntlet fired up. It was strange, the fire wasn't orange and blue, it was instead a strange lavender and black. He waved his hand back and forth a few times, letting it form at the finger into a brilliant flame. Then, he pointed his finger at her feet, at the hem of her dress, and let the fire fly to her clothes. She wouldn't get hurt, the fire would affect the cloth, she'd just feel a strange warmth encompassing her if she didn't get out of the way.

[Anonymous]

Even she couldn't explain her reaction to him. She was terrified, weak and powerless against him. And yet, she didn't want to give up. She refused to surrender to him. She fought though she had nothing to stop him. She wasn't sure where she was planning on going with her actions, what kind of satisfaction because she was sure there would be no pleasant outcome for what she was doing. She knew she would suffer immensely for her actions. She was being stupid and she knew it.

And yet she fought him.

Maybe it was her fear of giving up. She didn't like the feeling of knowing she had done nothing to protect herself or to try and stop him, even if it was a worthless attempt. She didn't like the idea of letting a man like this win without at least doing something, anything to make his try a bit trickier. She wasn't sure if it would do any good, or if she'd be able to even slow his attempts at ruling over her. But it didn't matter. He would have to try harder, make her beg for mercy and wish she wouldn't have challenged him. She would need to be taught a lesson she would never forget before she would be willing to accept the idea of giving up. Oh the cost of being stubborn.

Her hands continued to dig into the dirt as he stared at her. His back had straightened and he was now much higher than her. He looked like the dominant one, looked like he had conquered her, and he may have even thought or felt like it. But she would not easily agree to that. She tensed up, waiting quietly for her punishment considering it would come anyway. She would not beg or cry until couldn't stand it anymore. She would not give him that satisfaction. He would have to earn it or force it out of her. He would have to work for it.

She glanced up at him. Her hair, soaked at long, hung in her face. Her skin was wet but she no longer felt cold. She just felt weak, scared and yet...strong. The fear forced her into a state of rebellion. It made her want to move against him and show she wasn't who he thought she was going to be. She had to prepare herself as best she could for anything he might throw at her, anything he may use against her to make her surrender. She had to anticipate each move as best she could and figure out a way to deal with it. She wasn't even sure if it was possible or worth trying, but she had to try.

She watched as he revealed his face. It was slow, as if he was trying to make it dramatic. At that point she didn't care. She was barely paying attention to his actions. She was busy thinking about anything to get her out of this situation. She was busy thinking about what this man could be thinking of doing to her. But once he had his mask removed, she stared at him, snapping back to her present situation. He was, in his own way, rather attractive in an eerily disturbing way. She shivered a bit when she thought of him that way. He was a threat to her. He would rule her, control her, and it became blatantly obvious if it wasn't before. She was suddenly on a new level of fear. But she didn't want to let him win, not even now.

His word. The one word. She hadn't expected that. She wasn't able to see it coming and wasn't able to prepare for it. And yet, she wasn't scared by it. She stared at the flame, shock crossing her face, but she quickly disposed of that. She thought quick, using the only thing she had on hand. She pulled the cap off the pouch on her side, letting the water flow over the flame. Her dress smoked, the flame extinguished by the water. She was a bit shocked by that too. She expected more of a challenge, but this man couldn't do even that. Her fear in him diminished a bit. A small smile curled on her lips. Maybe he wasn't what she had expected. Maybe he wasn't the threat he put himself out to be. Or maybe...

Maybe he was just getting warmed up.