untitled: No More

 

"No....No more war...please, no more fighting..." Urius begged in a weak voice from Ceata's shoulder. Death raised his eyes, seeing there the broken man who did not have the courage to fight with the one he knew they were talking about. Likewise, Death really didn't wish to kill Rowan...but Adonis was another matter. How long would Urius cling to a blind hope and a broken love? Even now, with his guilt bearing down on him, it seemed like he should have at least some sense of the gravity of his situation. This was not about hiding Rowan's condition anymore - or his own, for that matter. It was about protecting what he had left.

 

"Forgive me, Urius, but there is no way I can stop it." The immortal rumbled gravely and lowered his gaze. The sight of Urius so crumbled made the situation seem more urgent than ever. 
Ceata hugged his mate closer, quietly caressing his hair and back. He looked to the immortal and gave a slight solemn smile. 

 

Death turned and left before Urius could plead any further, knowing full well what he had to do now. They were rather weak after that last attack. The soldiers had barely a night to rest. Those that were still able to fight would have to be armed and ready to meet the enemy head-on. It was quite obvious that they couldn't linger at Death's Castle anymore, for they risked bringing the danger too close to home. As it was made quite obvious, the walls could not withstand the fury of Gods.

 

As Death marched off to make the preparations that were needed for this coming battle, Ceata continued to hold Urius close and shield him from his own fears. He could not do this forever though. Urius had to come out of this or he would be lost.
"Love... Shall we go back to the room?" Ceata asked him softly, raising a brow as he gazed down at the top of Urius' head.

 

"N-no...NO, I have to stop this..." he stammers, pushing Ceata away with growing concern. The other could feel how tense his muscles were, the overwhelming ache in Ceata's heart growing by the minute. It had been born there as a sincere jealousy for Rowan, fed by Urius' own attempts to "save" Ceata from the man's cruelty, and now it was fed by the events of only the passed few days. His lover was a monster, consumed by both guilt and sadness...now he still forced himself into a position for more pain and agony of a monster just as horrible as himself? It was very cruel that fate should have made Ceata fall for this person, as twisted as he is. Ceata was beginning to feel a growing resentment for his mate, something he had never felt before. 

 

He did not like that feeling. The shadowshifter shuddered and took a slight step back. Refused to feel that feeling. Blocking off an emotion was hard to do though; so much energy went into it. 
"How do you plan on stopping it, Urius?" He asked softly and stared at Urius intensely, looking for something there that he recognized, anything that would remind him of the Urius before these terrible events.

 

"I...I don't know, I just..." Urius started, stopping almost mid-step as he realized the other's eyes upon him. Turning, he caught sight of Ceata's gaze and, as though he was still part God, could see the sorrow festering in his eyes. Even as broken as he was that part of him that loved Ceata so deeply could only feel sadness in seeing such an expression. "Ceata..."

 

The pale male gave him a slight smile, unable to reply, unable to think of the words to say to his mate. He could not stop loving Urius, but at times he wished he could. It was not fair how much Urius hurt him sometimes.
"I will help you." He offered softly, whispers from slightly chapped lips upon an earnest, hopeful face.

 

Urius did not know what to say to that, seeing the hurt in Ceata's eyes. He couldn't help but feel that this was all his fault, spiraling further into guilt. Yet, for him not to feel guilt at the sight of Ceata's sorrow would prove without a doubt that he was no longer the man Ceata loved. At the very least, there was that glimmer of hope for one beleaguered Shadowshifter to cling to. "...Thank you. This means the world to me," Urius replied, his voice as hoarse from his pain as Ceata's was from his  sadness.

 

The shadowshifter slid his hand up the others arm and shoulder to cup his cheek. He stared a long time into Urius' eyes, over the strange new purplish speckles within and beyond into that injured soul.
"I love you, Urius." Was uttered softly, honestly. "And I could never stop loving you."
The pale male flushed and lowered his eyes finally, unable to keep his gaze locked with the others.

 

A hand reached out, worn fingers from a foreign body brushing so gently against Ceata's skin. At first, he felt like flinching away, yet reminded himself that Urius' hands would never be back - hands he had learned every crease of in their nights together...This had changed their love. It was now up to them to see if they could mend it again.
Still, Urius tilted up Ceata's chin to face him, trying to offer what comfort he could while being so shattered himself. It was hard, what with Rowan's face swimming in his mind, to clear his thoughts enough to think only of Ceata for that brief moment. "I have never stopped loving you....Even if I lose myself to this...monster within me, I will still love you."

 

The shadowshifter smiled slowly and with almost shy hesitance, he leaned in and pressed their lips together. He had not lain with Urius in so long that the press of their lips together was enough to send spikes of agonized pleasure along his nerves. The feeling was almost foreign, but the longer he pressed their lips together, the more he recognized those of his eldest mate, the one he had found as a child of barely eight.

 

Urius feels his own aching rise, for he has not had someone to hold or to touch in so long. Ceata was the only person who ever had his body and his heart in one. No other could make him feel this complete, not even Rowan. Thus, it was impossible for him to let go, allowing the kiss to linger, their mouths to meet in a sensuous manner that he had almost forgotten. Arms reach around and cling to Ceata, chest pressed to chest and hearts beating so closely, no matter how broken.

 

It was bliss and it healed them, if only for a moment. Ceata cupped his haggard mate's cheeks and held him close as they kissed slowly and remembered each others tastes and the softness of their mouths meeting.
Absolute bliss.

 

A bed...Urius wanted a bed. He wanted to hold Ceata and kiss everything away, though he knew that there was little time for such things. Then again, sometimes one needs to step back from the sadness. Maybe Urius learned that too late, which is the cause for all this sorrow he's immersed himself in. Still, he kisses Ceata more firmly now, arms around him, holding him tightly. He wants love...he craves it, much like the taste of the other's tongue brushing against his own.

The shadowshifter sighed softly, breath huffing and mingling with Urius' breath and brushing against his skin. Pale hands cup the back of the angel's head, stark as snow against the dark hair.
Ceata's mind was on a bed as well, but would they have the time or the energy?

Perhaps not, but that would not stop them from trying - maybe not so much out of desire, but from the need to be held in another's arms. They head off to their rooms, Ceata leading Urius as the other leans heavily upon him...It is all he can do to keep steady when his legs already feel like buckling beneath him. The weight of his sadness is so great.

~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, the sadness against Absinthe's shoulders were greater still. He sat up in the bed, exhausted and in pain. Things were bleeding that should not be and other parts of him were cracking when they should not. He winced as he looked around, realizing he was still in that room where Adonis took him ruthlessly for seemingly days at a time. He can't even remember what day of the week it is...the light outside looks like late afternoon, but then again, the Sombs are always dark. Perhaps it's morning.

Creaking, Absinthe sits up as slowly and carefully as possible. His eyes watered, blinking rapidly as he peered about the room with a slight frown.
How long had it been? Days? Weeks? He was still in this bed and time had all but become something of the past. Where had Adonis gone off to? Absinthe looked slowly about the room, waiting to find the other watching him and waiting for his plaything to wake.  Though he had been asleep, it felt as if he had not gotten any rest at all and his body was a mass of aches and pains.

 

 

He can remember vaguely the moment he fell asleep, being raped repeatedly as he was held down on the bed. Though was it rape if he was moaning like a whore all the while? Really, Absinthe didn't want to think about it. He got up instead so he might lean against the post of the bed, his legs wobbly and his lower back aching so much. His anus was still wet and slimy, dripping things likely mingled with a good deal of blood. It was not pleasant, to say the least, but he needed to move...He needed to go back home, if he could. He could only imagine what his family was thinking right now.

 

With his ache satisfied there was no reason to stay here, not with the others back home worrying for his well being. He did not like to think on what they might be going through knowing he was missing and most likely in the hands of their enemy.
He stretched slowly and let out a low and agonized noise of pain. Adonis had done a number on him this time. He was sure this was the worst he'd ever been used before.
Now... what to wear?

 

There really wasn't anything save the dirty sheet he had been laying in or the lush covers under which he had hidden. At least Adonis had given him a bed. There had been times when a hard floor was all Absinthe was afforded...Then again, he had never been taken for what seems like days at a time. His body was aching all over the place, even places he didn't think Adonis would get to. Gods, if only he could resist that monster...Thus far, it didn't seem to be working. 

 

Absinthe sighed and began to gingerly manipulate shadows about himself in a sort of clothing. It would move with him and would not cause him the discomfort that hauling a loose blanket about would.
The young male peeked out the door then, peering warily out into the dark staircase.

 

This was a rather nice house, from what Absinthe could tell. Though it was bare of any sort of decoration. It seemed almost made of stone, deep set in the ground and beset by fog to keep it hidden. Absinthe couldn't be sure, only knowing that he was thankful for the solid railing he is offered so that he might make it down the stairs. Shadows pass him in the darkness, strange creatures with these glowing pale eyes that are hollow and lifeless. He's seen them before in Death's employment, but certain not in such numbers. Why, all Absinthe must do is look up and see them crawling along the walls.
At times, their faces contort in what looks like pain and hatred, but they meld back in with the swirling crowd easily enough. The way ahead of him is dark and they seem to be all heading that way.

 

Perhaps it is not wise to head the same way as those things. Absinthe however,  had no other way he could go. It was either this way or stay up in the room and wait for Adonis to come back and play with him again.

 

The thought of that was not so unappealing until one considered the ass-ripping tactics Adonis so loved to use. For anyone else but a Shadowshifter, the pain would be too great. Yet the idea of falling further into madness really didn't please Absinthe in the least. He pressed onward, finding that the stairs were only just the beginning. The flight went down and down in a swirling spiral - so far that even the light from the room above had disappeared from sight. Where was he? Even he couldn't tell, only able to see the black Shadows crawling on the walls. They stopped every now and then to stare at him, a million eyes watching from the expanse of gloom that pervaded even the air. Blackness became something you breathed and Absinthe felt his chest heavy with it. It didn't help that he was in pain...still so much pain.

 

The eyes on him had the tall male nervous, glancing over his shoulder many times as he descended down into the further darkness. Was Adonis watching him?  Shivering, Absinthe continued on as quickly as he could without being able to see too well in this darkness.

 

It seemed like forever until he finally made it towards the bottom, there still being stairs that headed even lower, a darker force lurking there as souls - yes, souls - came sprouting up from the depths and heading up the spiraling staircase from which Absinthe just came. It made him shudder every time one went by, encouraging him not to trace them to their source as he got off here where there was a hall that attached to the staircase. There were long corridors on either side of him, he really not knowing where to go.

 

He stared long and hard down several halls, chewing his lip slightly as the male could not decide which way to go or what would be the best choice for him to go down.
"Damnit...." Absinthe uttered softly.

 

Just then, he saw the tiniest sliver of light crossing the ground before a certain corridor. It flickered welcomingly in the dank gloom; the Shadows brushing passed him and converging upon it as though to cover it up. Still, they weren't enough, as the light bounced them back...It must have been from a crack in the door. Distantly, he heard noises coming from down that same hall. Without even realizing, his feet were teetering him towards the strange, haunting sounds.

 

He could not have stopped himself if he had been able to. The young male padded up to it and pressed his hand into the light before slowly edging his way into the light.
What lay beyond this?
A way out he could only hope for and he opal eyes widened curiously before squinting.

 

A door, open only a crack, revealed a room beyond it. Soft moans of pain were coming from that room, the sound of machines grinding, and the gentle tap of footsteps. Absinthe stood in the sliver of light that came from the door, the Shadows dancing around him angrily for him to be standing in the offending light. Still, he was frozen with fear...What was that? What was it beyond that door that made such terrible sounds? And, furthermore, should he investigate?

 

He feared to do so, his opal eyes flickering uncertainly before his feet forced him further into the room and passed the door. The light was bright enough to cause his eyes discomfort and he had to brush angrily at some of the shadows whipping about.

 

What he saw there through the crack of the doorframe was terrifying. He had never beheld before a laboratory like this one. There were several bodies suspended in a thick violet liquid, hands attached to robotic arms, instruments still dripping with blood. And there, on a metal table, one of the test subjects writhing in agony as some sort of black mass was attached to their spine. Now, if Absinthe had fought CRISIS, he would have recognized the chilling surroundings at once. However, he was not, for all he recognized was the sight of Adonis, carving open the poor man's back to place in the Restraint.

 

Absinthe was so taken about that he jerked back in alarm and slammed back into the doorway, making a loud enough thump that his presence would be noticed even if Adonis had not noticed it before.

 

His stomach did flip flops and Absinthe wondered if he himself would be one of those victims upon the table, screaming in agony. Not like he had not already gone through such a thing, but it was of a different nature.

 

"Good to see you....Absinthe," Adonis said smoothly as he drew his bloodied hand out of the other's twitching body with ease. He washed them thoroughly then before picking up a knife. With careful movements, he slit his wrist and let his blood pour over the mass of black congealed blood until it hardened and formed into skin. It sank into the back of the man on the table and he grew silent, eyes hollow and unseeing. "Good to see you're finally awake."

 

Absinthe shifted from foot to foot, licking at his lips. Wide eyes did not leave the rend in the other man's back, a slight twitch to one eye that spoke of severe disgust or fear. "Hnnn...." Was the simple drawn out reply as the young godling took another step back, looking set to flee the room.

 

 

"Stay." The word was an order and it made Absinthe freeze instinctively. He couldn't stop himself from obeying such commands, knowing well what would happen if he didn't. Adonis closed his wound and then set down the knife, walking around the table where his drooling victim lay, twitching now and then. He smiled upon Absinthe, looking up and into his eyes. "You won't go anywhere without my consent...and, for now, I want you to stay. This might prove very amusing."

 

Absinthe gulped, his hands shaking at his sides and his gut writhing like a mass of cold, wet worms. He dipped his chin in a quick, simple nod for he did not trust his voice, not now and probably not for a while.
Was Adonis going to do this to him as well? Or... did he have something more sinister planned for his toy?

 

"...that's a good boy. Now, get on the table."