Stormy Skies

Title: Stormy Skies
Chapter: Two - “Ensnared”
Word Count: 12,747
Warnings: Light violence, language, and a little something towards the end :3


Hello everyone! Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, but for good reason! (12,747 words X_x Oi!) At any rate, some very interesting things happen in this chapter, all of which I hope you enjoy :3

Now, to respond to some reviewers:

aisha: I was delighted by your enthusiastic reviews xD THANK YOU SO MUCH. It really is very appreciated!

KatFo: Here’s that face-to-face meeting you were looking for. I hope you enjoy it! And thank you very much for your compliments ^^

kiix: Naughty, you say…? Oh, you have no idea :333 Thanks for the review, and enjoy!

madlodger: Thank you very much! I’m glad to hear that you like my writing ^^ And, actually, I’ve never seen Ghost, but now I think I kind of want to xD Thanks again!

SeriouslyJoking: Ooooh thank you so much! Your review was so lovely, it made me feel all warm and fuzzy~~ :D

mo: Glad to hear you enjoyed it! Thank you for your lovely review ^^

SecretQuill: HERE’S SOME MORE. ^^ Thanks!

And a big thanks to everyone else who reviewed, as well!

I am not ashamed to admit that I do indeed crave more feedback, so please do not hesitate to review! It motivates me ^^ Also, please do excuse any typos or whatever you might stumble across, editing/revising this chapter was a bitch.

Oh yes, I also want to tell you guys that while I was writing this chapter, we had FOUR BIG STORMS, one of which was a TORNADO. I was praying to the Storm King not to kill me xD

Oh well! Please, do enjoy!


~~~~~
Chapter Two - Ensnared

The Raiser stood atop zenith of his home.

The building was a peculiar creation. Constructed entirely of coarse grey stone and mortar, it stood impossibly tall, built as one seemingly endless spire that finally concluded far beyond the horizon of the clouds, up where the air was as thin as a gossamer sheen. It boasted no offshoots or branches - the needle-like palace was a pillar of grayness, stabbing the sky, held together by engineering and magic. From the top, one could not begin the hope to see the bottom. No one really even knew if there was one.

The pinnacle of the structure did not come to a perfect point. Rather, at its very highest point, the top was perfectly smooth and flat. The edifice’s zenith was shaved off to create a small, circular platform, one meter around. It was upon this miniscule platform the Raiser stood.

The blond man inhaled sharply through his nose, absorbing the near-electrically charged air, and relaxed as hot pleasure coursed its way though his veins and tingled beneath his flesh. Up there, in the sky, everything was bestial. Surrounded by firmament, one existed as a creature made purely of sensation and reaction, and not as a thought-based organism. All around, in every direction, he could see nothing but angry grey clouds. There was never anything else - the palace was constantly surrounded by a storm-ready haze, filled with crackling static and icy moisture, eager and prepared to launch into a carnal frenzy of wind and rain and lightening at any moment. It never would, though. Not without the Raiser’s permission. The stormy clouds were doomed to forever exist in a state of sizzling tension, until their master wished to free their might.

The blond allowed his eyelids to flutter shut as static crackled along his flesh, begging for release. He smiled, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. As an immense and violent blast of wind ripped by him, snapping the ends of his garments and rushing between his fingers and thighs, he decided to indulge the imploring static. His own nerve endings were desperately craving the thrill only a storm could provide.

Lifting his arms upwards, he allowed his mind to uncurl. It opened at once. Immediately, his thoughts began to spread out, going everywhere, filling the sky, wrapping themselves tightly around every molecule in the whole atmosphere. He sighed in delight, and pulled up his command.

Show me the meaning of awe. Rend me open with your passion.

The result was instantaneous; the world seemed to detonate. The clouds turned suddenly black. Lightening arched all around in bolts built of thousands - millions - of offshoots, their ends like prickly little fingers. Blasts of whipping, spinning wind blew rain and giant orbs of hail in every direction. All around the sky howled and screeched deafeningly, and eventually the thrum of the wind found a steady pulse, like the heart of a rampant beast. Thunder cracked and pounded so terribly, the smooth surface of the platform which the man stood upon trembled continuously.

The Raiser opened his eyes and mouth to the torrent, and threw his arms out wide to allow it to beat against his chest. He was in the throws of pleasure. Out in the forces that should have easily cast him off the pinnacle of the spire, he stood strong, absorbing their energy, devouring them, eating their lusty offerings. He trembled with the pure satisfaction and delight of it. He gasped at the numbing endlessness it promised.

But, after only a short while, the Raiser lowered his arms. He was only allowing himself a taste. Otherwise, he risked being up there for days. Months, even.

He probed with this thoughts, still entangled in the sky all around, and gave another command. My lovely, lovely beast, he said to the storm, you are my will, my lover, my marvelous cutthroat killer, my destroyer. You have no mercy. You are my ecstasy, you are my satiation. You cut me with your beauty, and you kill with your passion. I have tasted you, my beast. You have fulfilled your purpose. Sleep, now. Itch for my touch once again. Return to your slumber. Lustily await my sway. He would never tire of speaking to his treasured possession.

At once, the storm began to calm. It shrunk in intensity, the wind dying, the rain slowing. As the last sparks of lightening flickered across the sky, the blond couldn’t help but think the stray bolts looked a bit like the limbs of a great wolf, reaching desperately between the bars of its cage as it was forced once more into entrapment.

When at last the sky had completely returned to its previous state, electric with an imminent storm, the Raiser sighed, reigning in his thoughts. He tightly curled his mind shut, trapping them in. His muscles twitched with the remnants of pleasure left behind by the storm. Closing his eyes, he breathed slowly, to calm his tingling nerves.

He waited until he was completely relaxed before turning on the platform to face a dangerously steep, narrow-stepped set of stairs. Descending them easily, he made quick work of them. They moved down the slim tip of the tower in a brief spiral, ending at a small, arched, heavy wood door which was set firmly into the grey stone exterior. Pushing the entrance open, he stepped inside his palace, carefully closing the wooden portal behind him. The second he set foot indoors, he knew he had a visitor.

His eyes became alight with anticipation. “Ah,” he breathed, drying himself of the storm’s remains with a mere thought. The wetness simply dissipated into the air. “It seems the Marquis has moved faster than I expected.”
~~

The Lifter sat in one of the many large entrance halls of the Raiser’s palace. The blond man’s dwelling had more than several, scattered all about the spire. The halls were all extravagantly decorated and furnished, and contained nothing but the most plush fabrics, the softest cushions, and the finest works of art. A visiting guest could choose any one of the varying entrances to arrive through.

This particular hall was decorated with warm creams and dusty reds. It was softly lit with honey-colored candles, burning in clusters atop stands which jutted from the stone walls in no particular order, along with a colossal fire which blazed in the large, extravagantly carved hearth. Before the hearth stood a long polished dark wood table, a high-backed chair sitting at either end of it. It was in one of these chairs that the Marquis sat, awaiting his host. He had not bothered to inform the servants of his arrival. He knew the Raiser would already be aware of his presence.

However, a somewhat lengthy while passed in waiting, and eventually the shadow-clad guest began to grow impatient. Perhaps he had been wrong in assuming the Raiser was aware of him? He tapped his fingers against the tabletop, and exhaled sharply through his nostrils. Should he have informed a servant of his arrival? It might have been for the best, though it was usually unnecessary.

Just then, the entire structure of the palace shivered terribly, its stones rumbling, and the Lifter straightened in his chair as a muted crash of thunder reached his ears. Ah, he thought, knowingly, so that is where he has disappeared to. Sighing, he considered his options. Should he leave and return in a few days time? The Raiser had been known to rattle his sky for days at a time, or longer. He mulled over the thought, tapping his fingers on the table some more. No, he finally concluded, I shall stay. If he was so intent on obtaining this pet of his that he wished my servants to set out immediately, then I do not expect he shall be up there long. The Marquis grunted, and submitted himself to waiting a while longer.

Eventually, his mind wondered to the pet.

He’d seen it upon his servants’ return, and he’d also been the one to transport it to the Raiser’s home. It was certainly an interesting creature. Of course the Raiser had shown his quarry to the Lifter before its capture, but seeing the thing in person proved to be a far different experience. As far as humans went, the pet had a strong aesthetic appeal. It was average in height, but was sleekly muscled in a subtle, pleasing way. Its facial features were narrow and angular, with an unusually small, (and rather comical,) pair of glasses perched low on his nose. The creature’s clothes were torn in quite a few places, but that was most likely a result of crossing the divide. Moving from one side to the other was a violent and dangerous affair.

But there was more to the pet than his mere appearance. Even in an unconscious state - for the creature was still dispelling the last of the Shadow’s magic from his mind - the human had a feeling of rebellion and intelligence about him. The Marquis could practically taste the pet’s thoughts when he was near him. His lips pricked upwards at their corners with the thought.

The Raiser certainly has chosen a lovely pet, he thought, deviously, it will undoubtedly be interesting to see how he commands it. The pet would have to be domesticated, like a beast.

Just then, the muted rumbling began to die away.

The Lifter was glad. It was a sign that his host would soon be aware of him. He repositioned himself in the large wooden chair, expecting the blond to greet him at any moment. He knew the man would be eager to hear from him.

The Marquis’s hunch proved correct, as soon after the storm’s end, the Raiser strolled into the room.

“Ah, Shadow Lifter,” he said warmly, arms spread wide, “you have exceeded my expectations. I was not anticipating a visit so soon.”

“Clearly,” was all the guest spoke in response. The blond smile wryly.

“You must pardon me. Were you waiting long? I’m afraid I was outdoors and unaware of your arrival.”

“So it would seem.” The Lifter folded his hands into his lap. “No, I was not waiting long. Did you find refreshment in calling your storm?” He seemed to ask this clearly as a formality. The Raiser’s smile only widened.

“Much. I hope you have wonderful news for me?” The host took a seat at the opposite end of the long table.

The Shadow Lifter turned to face him, a wry smile of his own slipping onto his milky features. “Your pet has been acquired, as you asked.”

“Delightful,” the Raiser said in a low voice. After a moment’s mental sweep of his dwelling, he knew his new possession was within his walls. “You have already brought him, I see.”

“Yes. I had my servants deposit him into the care of your staff. He still sleeps from crossing the divide.”

“You are too considerate.”

“Hardly,” the Marquis’s eyes narrowed, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “I do this with the understanding that you will hold true to our contract.”

“Of course,” the blond reclined backwards into his chair, lazily. “Have you yet decided what favor you wish to ask of me?”

“I’m afraid not. I continue to wish to keep my options open,” was the reply.

“Yes. Well, do not hesitate in considering your payment for as long as you desire. I shall indeed hold true.”

“How pleasing to hear.” Something in the Lifter’s blue eyes seemed to change, then, and a light of interest entered them. “I cannot help but notice that you have chosen an intriguing pet, Raiser.” The blond host placed his rounded chin in the palm of one hand, and smiled idly at his guest.

“Yes, I was careful in my selection.”

“It shall be fascinating to see how you deal with him.”

At that remark, the Raiser’s smile turned mischievous, and his eyes twinkled with cleverness. “Perhaps. But I have no intention for you or anyone else to see exactly how I do so.”

The Marquis was a bit taken aback by the response. He was silent for a moment, but recovered quickly. In a slightly disapproving voice, he posed his question. “You mean to say that you do not intend to introduce him to the others? They will be displeased, once they discover you. Particularly the Elder.”

“Time Watcher can become as displeased as he wishes. My pleasure affairs have no influence on him. And one other, besides yourself, is already aware of my situation. The Sage knows. She advised me on the matter.”

“Yes, of course the Mist would know. She watches all of us with close eyes. So, you truly have no plans to display the thing?” The Marquis crossed his arms over his shadow-clad chest.

The blond sighed in polite exasperation. “Hm. Well, I suppose I shall have to parade my pet eventually, yes? But not for a long while, yet. Not until I have trained him properly.” The Lifter seemed more satisfied with this answer. He nodded.

“I see.” The guest smirked then, his blue eyes snide. “Understand, Raiser, that I am not the Sage. If questioned by the others, I will not hesitate in divulging your secrets concerning this matter.”

The blond host produced a smirk of his own. “I have no intention of allowing the others to know enough to cause questioning, Marquis. You should have no need to divulge anything.” The Lifter chuckled, softly.

“We shall see about that, you old fool.” The guest stood suddenly, placing his hands on the table and pushing his chair out gruffly. It scraped loudly across the floor. “I’m afraid I must be on my way, now. It is growing late. Do not forget our agreement, Raiser.” The blond seemed a bit offset by the abruptness of the departure.

“…No, of course not.”

“Wonderful. I shall contact you when I decide on my payment. Farewell.”

“Yes. Good evening.”

The Lifter nodded his head slightly in goodbye, and was gone in a mere wisp of breath, dissolved behind his shadow garments. The Raiser sat in silence for several long moments, staring absently at the space where his guest had just been. At last, he blinked several times.

“…Old fool?” he huffed, quietly. His brows scrunched together. “Old fool indeed. What does he know? The juvenile idiot.” After another brief moment in silence, it suddenly reoccurred to him that he had, at last, obtained his prized pet. Washing the insult from his memory, he quickly summoned a servant, and rose eagerly from his chair.

The servant arrived quickly; a small wind spirit configured itself before him. Its smoky humanoid frame bowed respectfully before its master, ready for direction. A raspy whisper floated through the hall. “My King?”

“My pet. He still sleeps?” The spirit nodded slowly, the wisps of its frame waving all about. “I see. Watch him carefully, then. When he wakes, inform me at once, and bring him to the Feasting Hall.”

“Shall he be dressed in slaves’ garments for your presence?” The servant’s words took a long time to construct, its raspy voice almost as hazy and vaporous as its body.

The blond considered the question, then answered. “No. Leave him in what he wears now. But bring the garments to my bedchamber.” He paused a moment, another thought occurring to him. “Also, he is not to be touched. Not even trivially. That privilege is mine alone. And perhaps it would be best if he were only exposed to more solidly formed servants - he will not be used to this place. Only rain or lightening creatures should interact with him. Wind or air spirits may disturb him. Understood?”

The spirit bowed once again. “Yes, my King. Do you desire anything else?”

“No. You may leave.”

With a sound a bit like a hoarse, drawn out sigh, the spirit was gone, its form seeming to mix into the air and dissipate entirely. Alone once more, a satisfied smile found its was to the Raiser’s lips.

“What fun this will be,” he said to himself, quietly, and strode slowly from the room, chuckling.
~~

Alex awoke with a throbbing headache, feeling nauseous.

It took him a long while to climb his way out of slumber, hovering somewhere just beneath the surface of consciousness for an unknown amount of time, but at last, he managed. He lay with his eyes tightly shut, assessing his physical condition. His facial muscles tightened at the needle-like pulsing behind his eyes, and the way his stomach seemed to roll uncomfortably with every exhalation. This was undoubtedly the worst he’d ever felt in his entire life. After several long moments of wallowing in his own self pity, he finally groaned, bringing a hand up to sloppily cover his still-shut eyes, and rubbed at his temples, weakly.

Fuck, he thought to himself. Even in his own mind, his voice sounded gruff. What, did they make those martinis triple strength or something? This is the worst hangover of my life. He dared not glance at the clock, afraid of what time it might be.

After another short while of mental griping and moaning, he finally removed his hand from his face, and allowed it to flop lifelessly onto the mattress at his side. He hesitated to open his eyes. You’ve got no choice, he scolded himself, you can’t lay in bed all day. Now get your sorry ass up and eat some fucking painkillers. And drink a whole gallon of water, too. His stomach churned at the thought.

Carefully, after another moment’s hesitation, he allowed his eyelids to open a mere crack. Warm light hit his senses like a sledgehammer. He inhaled sharply between his teeth, and tightly clamped his eyes shut once more.

It was another few moments before he regained enough willpower to try again. At last, he managed to open his eyes, just as tentatively as before. This time he was prepared for the barbarous light, and endured the first wave of enhanced throbbing brought on by the brightness. Slowly, he evened his breathing and began to inch his lids higher, one degree at a time.

At last, he found himself staring at the ceiling, head throbbing terribly.

Alex rode out the first few moments with clenched teeth. Eventually, though, the pain began to dull as his eyes adjusted to the new light. Once his headache had returned to a more tolerable pain level, he sighed in relief. Lethargically, he brought a hand up to ruffle through his messy hair.

It was then, just as he began to grow more alert, that a sudden wave of intense confusion struck him. His brow slowly knitted, and his eyes darted back and fourth in their sockets.

Where… am I? Alex carefully tried to pull himself into an upright position, but when his stomach protested at the first tensing of the muscles in his abdomen, he aborted the task. Instead, he remained on the soft mattress, perplexedly studying the ceiling and top half of the wall directly opposite him.

Rusty orange. They were painted a sort of brownish, rusty orange color. The walls in his bedroom were grey. He was not in his apartment.

“…What the hell?” he spoke quietly, under his breath. Confusedly, he tried to recall the events of the previous evening.

…That’s right, he’d gone to that awful party. He’d had a few drinks that he thought had been rather weak - but apparently his judgment had been very wrong. Had he left with someone? Alex scanned his mind quickly. No, no, he certainly hadn’t. He’d left early and caught a cab home. He recalled seeing Danny outside his apartment door. He even remembered the apology. He certainly hadn’t been very drunk - in fact, not really drunk at all. So what had caused this god-awful hangover? And why was he laying in an unknown bed, in an unrecognizable room?

He thought harder. And then he remembered.

Alex’s breathing paused as he recalled, his eyes widening in their sockets. Those creatures. Those… those things had come to his apartment, and attacked him…! Shuddering, Alex knew he hadn’t dreamed the ordeal. It had been too terrifying, too real… the feel of the thing’s needle-hand engulfing his head had been too solid. Too cold and wispy.

The chocolate-haired man’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. They had knocked him out. They had taken him somewhere. They had abducted him. Why? What was their reason? Where had he been taken to? Where had they gone? What were they going to do to him? A thousand questions raced through Alex’s mind in a matter of mere seconds. He could feel his panic from the night before rising up once again. Laying perfectly still, he found he was afraid to move.

Just as he thought he might become ill from worry, a quiet voice found its way to his ears. It was soft and high-pitched, and emanated from somewhere off to his left.

“Are you awake?” it questioned. Its words were short and choppy, as though each syllable had to punch its way out. Alex’s hands clenched fistfuls of sheet at his sides, and, terrified, he carefully turned his head.

What he saw was not what he expected. Rather than observing a fearsome, horrifying shadow-thing, what he saw instead was a small creature, made of flesh. It stood in the far corner of the room.

Alex stared at the thing, aghast. It was very short - about the size of a small child. Humanoid and barrel-chested, it had sickly pale skin that seemed to be some shade of bluish-grey. It wore no clothes, but had no genitalia, and was hairless. The eyes were incredibly bizarre - they were long, each about three inches from one corner to the other, but were narrow and opened only a centimeter or two, so that it appeared to be squinting. On either side of its skull were two holes where ears should have been. Its mouth was wide and much like its eyes. It had no nose.

The thing was not nearly as terrifying as the shadow creatures, but was equally disturbing in appearance.

Alex found that he was unable to reply to its inquiry, and merely stared, appalled. The strange creature waited several long moments before questioning him once more. “Are you awake?”

At last, Alex blinked several times, and released himself from his daze. Shakily, he tried to stutter out a question. “Wha… Where… what the h… what are you?” he propped himself onto his elbows, flustered.

The creature, rather than replying, merely stared at him for a short while, then turned and made its way to the arched wood panel doorway several feet to its left. It had an odd gait, stuck somewhere between shuffling and sliding, as it moved across the stone floor. Quickly, it reached its long-fingered hand out and opened the wooden portal, speaking in short, choppy words with something on the other side that Alex couldn’t see. The man observed its actions, and grew more perplexed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice nervous, “Who are you talking to? What are you saying? What’s going on!” The last was not so much a question as an exclamation. You can’t panic, he told himself, firmly, you can’t panic. That would only make everything worse. Stay calm. Try to talk to it. Maybe it’ll help you.

Soon enough, the blue-grey creature stepped away from the door, not bothering to close it, and began to approach him. Alex recoiled, instinctively. It stopped mere inches from the bedside, blinking at him with its too-long, too-narrow eyes. They were a smoky grey color, with no iris or pupil.

Finally, it spoke. “Up. Come.” It motioned to the door that stood ajar.

Alex stared at the thing incredulously, as though it had asked him an appalling question. “…No,” he said, defiantly. He clutched the sheets more tightly.

“Come. Must go,” the thing pointed a boney finger at the door once again.

“No, I said,” Alex repeated, “Answer my questions. Where the hell am I? What are you?” He was more bold around a creature that was several feet shorter than him, rather than several feel taller.

The thing lowered its arm, allowing the limb to dangle lifelessly at its side. It stared at him, unblinkingly. “Must go. That is instruction. You wake up, I take you there.” Alex’s brow furrowed.

“Take me…” he said, confusedly, “…take me where? Instruction? Who’s giving instructions?” The creature grabbed the torn sleeve of his tee shirt, and Alex yelped, jumping in surprise. “What are you doing? Let go!”

“No questions. Must come. Go.” It tugged at the sleeve, trying to get him upright.

“No! I’m not going! And let go!” he jerked his arm away from the creature, who did nothing to relinquish its grip, and tugged back. Becoming uncomfortable enough to try and pull the creature’s hand off himself, Alex was mustering up his courage to do so when he chanced a look down to his sleeve, and noticed how torn it was. The actual sleeve itself was only hanging on to the shirt by a few short areas of hem that still remained intact. Puzzled, he glanced down and scanned his eyes over the rest of his clothing. Both his pajama pants and tee shirt were torn and ripped horribly, in several places. Astonished, he gawked. “What the hell!” he cried. “Did you try to undress me? Let go!”

At that moment, in the midst of a small tug-of-war centered around Alex’s shirt sleeve, the wood panel door was thrown abruptly open, the brass handle bouncing against the rusty orange wall. Alex started at the suddenness of it, clutching his free hand to his chest. “Jesus…!”

His movements ceased immediately as he saw what now filled the doorframe.

It was another… monster. Yes, he decided, these things most certainly had to be what one would call ‘monsters’. But the one that now hunched awkwardly in the doorframe was not small and seemingly harmless, like the one clutching his sleeve. It was gigantic, like the shadow things had been, only twice as sinister in appearance. The creature’s skin was a pallid yellow color, and its body was unnaturally thin, the jagged angles of its skeletal structure clearly apparent. But, despite its thinness, the corded muscles that flexed and stretched beneath its skin were obvious and deadly looking. Its skull was oddly shaped - very long and narrow with highly exaggerated, sharpened angles. Its facial features much resembled those of the smaller grey creature, only that its eyes rested in deep recessions too far up on its head, and that its mouth was not wide like the smaller thing’s, but smaller and narrow. It opened far too much when the thing spoke.

“You are not to touch!” it rumbled in a scratchy voice that was like static in dry air.

Alex nearly wet himself in terror. A burst of adrenaline caused him to forget about his pounding headache and queasy stomach.

The smaller thing turned its odd head to regard the newcomer, and pointed an accusing finger at Alex. “But wont come! I said must go. Wont go! Wont go! It says. Now I make it go.” It turned its head back to face Alex. “See? As I said, must come.”

The larger thing rumbled again. Alex stared at it, wide-eyed with horror. “No, no! I just - I simply - it’s not that I refused, I just - some questions - really…!” The creature did not even bother to regard the man’s words. Instead, it focused its attentions back onto the grey thing.

“The instructions were not to touch. The King will know. He will be angry.”

“But, I say-”

“Release it!”

The smaller creature’s hand immediately disentangled itself from the torn sleeve, falling to its side lifelessly once more. Alex hardly noticed.

The large beast stepped into the room, and stood to its full height. As expected, it was monstrously huge. Alex swallowed thickly. “I will take him, if you cannot,” it spat, obvious disapproval in its scratchy static voice. The grey creature seemed to concede to the suggestion by not replying. Quickly, the tall thing turned its attention fully to the man propped in the bed. “Up. You must go now that you are awake. The King already knows, and wishes to meet you.”

Despite his fear, confusion and concern gave Alex enough courage to chance asking. “Go where? And what King? Who’s the King?” The beast took a step forward, suddenly, causing Alex to jump back with a surprised shout. It pointed a bone-thin, accusing finger in the man’s face.

“You do as the King orders. You follow me. I do not answer questions. He will.” Its voice left no room for debate.

Terrified, Alex kept his mouth shut, and slowly stood from the bed, balancing himself on shaky legs. His headache and upset stomach returned at once.

The creature seemed to regard him for a moment before giving a slight nod, expressing some kind of approval. Alex felt vulnerable and slight compared to the obvious power of the beast in front of him, especially with his torn garments and rattling knees. He swallowed thickly. I feel like I’m in a fucking nightmare, he thought, terrified.

Finally, the yellow-skinned giant stood straight, removing the slouch from its spine. Something in its shoulders cracked several times. “Now, come,” it said, “You are late. He expected you long ago.” It turned toward the door, and stepped out into the hallway that laid on the other side of the wooden frame. Alex moved to follow the thing, but was stopped by a quiet sound from the smaller grey creature. He looked to his left, down at where it stood.

“Must give you this,” it said, shuffling quickly over to a small table and plucking something small from its surface. As it made its way back over to the man, Alex saw it clasped his nice pair of reading glasses in its long fingers. “It is yours. All funny on your face. Cannot forget,” the creature held them up, presenting them, and he held his hand out and allowed the seeing device to be dropped into his palm. The small thing starred up at him, silent. Alex realized that something akin to a smile was stretched awkwardly over its features.

Unsure of what to say, he shakily stuttered out a quick, “Uh… th… thanks…” before he heard a gruff noise from the hallway, and quickly scuffled out of the room, afraid of upsetting the huge beast.

Stopping just outside the doorframe, he saw the thing standing rigidly beside the stone wall. It observed him briefly before grunting in a low, dry voice, “Follow me,” and turned the opposite direction to move forward, walking at a quick pace. Alex struggled to keep up with the thing, his stomach and head protesting every movement. More than once he felt as though he might vomit.

The walk was long and silent, but the chocolate-haired man found he appreciated the silence. He couldn’t really bring himself to imagine holding a conversation with the beast, and was too afraid to ask questions.

He found that all the walls, floors and ceilings of the hallway were made of large stones held together with mortar, very much unlike the plastered and painted walls of the room he’d woken in. All throughout the walk the walls had been peppered with similar arched wood panel doors, and he’d peered into the ones that stood ajar as he passed. Some of the rooms were small and plastered and painted, like his had been, while others were large and lined with stone and mortar, like the hall. He thought the combination was strange.

But this place is definitely a palace, he thought, absolutely and utterly bewildered, or a castle or fortress or something. He scratched at the back of his neck as he stumbled forward, dizzily. Where the hell had those things taken him, exactly? As far as he knew, there were no castles or palaces in Manhattan - or in the entire city, for that matter. Or the whole goddamned state. Are there even any in the whole country? He suddenly wished he could somehow get his hands on his laptop and Google the information.

All around the hallways were busy, bustling with hundreds of creatures who looked exactly like the two he’d already encountered, with the exception of some minor differences. Some carried covered baskets or piles of cloth or clothes, while others merely walked with purpose, clearly in the middle of a task. Many stared as he strode by, and eventually he’d had to turn his gaze down, unable to comprehend the bizarreness of the situation. On more than one occasion the man had thought he’d seen puffs of smoke here and there, once or twice in the shape of a human figure, but had shaken the thought, chalking it up to his somewhat hazy vision and over-stimulated mind.

The walk dragged onward, filled with turns and stairs and inclines and doorways, all of which helped to make Alex feel worse with each passing moment. He breathed heavily, in an attempt to prevent himself from becoming ill all over the floor. He wasn’t quite sure who this aforementioned ‘King’ was, or what exactly he was a king of, but he felt quite positive he wouldn’t appreciate Alex dropping the contents of his stomach in the middle of a busy hallway. Several times he’d had to stop, slouching helplessly against one of the rough stone walls to ride out a terrible bout of dizziness or nausea. The yellow beast who led him hardly seemed to notice these times, and continued onward without pausing, so that the man was forced to hurry to catch up after every rest.

After a long while, the distinct smell of food began to tingle in the man’s nostrils, causing his stomach to turn uncomfortably. Despite the fact that he suddenly realized he was damn near starved, the thought of food was almost enough to make him retch. He truly believed his stomach would not allow it.

Soon enough the scent grew stronger, and it was no surprise to Alex when they passed a large kitchen, filled with huge stone ovens and giant copper boiling kettles over roaring fires. The smells of bread, eggs, soups and frying meats hit him like a stone slab. Inside, the large room was filled entirely with the small blue-grey creatures, chattering busily in their short, high-pitched, clipped voices, all moving about with steaming pots and mixing spoons and platters of rolls or dishes. Alex gawked, then looked away. Enticed and sickened at the same time by the scent of food, he quickly moved forward, eagerly escaping the aromas.

At last, the air began to change, and Alex knew they were about to enter a large room. He was glad. The thought of being rid of the busy, cramped, hot hallways relaxed him, somewhat.

His guess proved correct, as soon enough the giant beast led him around a corner and into full view of a pair of truly gigantic arched doors. They were made of thick oiled dark wood, and stood, he guessed, about five stories high. They were open just enough to permit a single person to walk though. The yellow beast stood beside the opening, motioning for Alex to enter first. The man was weary to pass the giant, but at last did as he was told, and carefully stepped through the archway.

It was the most gigantic room he’d ever seen in his entire life. It couldn’t even really have been considered a room, truthfully. It was too large. The ceiling was impossibly high up, so that the thick rafters appeared to be nothing more than long, thin twigs. Tapestries of impossible size and detail hung from nearly ceiling to floor, their colors all earthy and autumn. They depicted scenes of vicious storms. In the center of the room stood a long table, huge, spanning most of the length of the hall, and lined with finely carved and cushioned chairs. A particularly ornate chair stood at the head of the table, a step higher than the rest, all draped in stormy grey and blue and red silks and velours, tasseled and plush. Behind the chair, protruding from the stone and mortar wall, was the largest hearth Alex had ever seen, carved intricately and decorated with shimmering gold leaf. Behind its wrought iron covering, an immense fire blazed, throwing flickering shadows all about the room.

Alex stood just inside the doorway for a long while, observing the impossible immensity of the hall, slack-jawed with awe. He temporarily forgot his aching body. It was just simply so impossible - a place like this couldn’t exist, not really, it was just too… strange. Bizarre. He shuddered, suddenly feeling small and frightened, as he realized that he was at the undeniable mercy of whoever owned this fairytale-like place. He was surely no match for a man who had the power to command beasts like the monster that had guided him here, who owned such an incredible palace, who had been able to remove him from his home with next to no effort at all.

Alex nearly vomited right there. He was utterly, terribly, unquestionably screwed.

Suddenly the giant creature was behind him, and Alex nearly jumped as it grunted out some words. “Over there,” it said, pointing a bony finger to an arched door directly opposite the one Alex stood in now. It wasn’t quite as large as the one he’d just entered through, but it was still impressive, nonetheless.

He hadn’t noticed before, distracted as he was by the immensity of the hall, but a figure stood patiently in the doorway. He had a hard time judging the individual’s height, as the room was so overpowering in scale, be the chocolate-haired man decided that this new person was no where near as tall as the monster behind him, and he was glad for that. Alex squinted, trying to discern the person’s features. Their arms were folded neatly in front of them, and tucked carefully into the large sleeves of their robes.

Just then, the beast spoke again. “Go,” it said, and stepped forward. The chocolate haired man did as he was told, following suit.

Slowly, they made their way over to the figure.

As they drew closer, Alex was glad to see that it appeared to be human. Good, he thought, thankfully, at least they’re not another one of these monster things. I don’t think I can handle another shock, today.

At last, they halted when they stood directly before the person. Alex could hardly move, eyes wide, as he gazed at the elegantly draped figure before him. He and the stranger regarded each other for several long moments.

The person was definitely male - he’d noticed that right away. But… the chocolate-haired man found he couldn’t help but stare. The boy was the most shockingly, entrancingly beautiful person he’d ever seen in his entire life. His beauty ran so deep, it seemed to verge frighteningly close on inhuman. His hair was fairly long, falling down to the back of his neck in luxuriant, luminous dark honey-blond strands, which tumbled into his eyes and framed his rounded face flawlessly. His features were curved and soft with high, proud cheekbones, his eyes were an entrancing springtime hazel, and his smooth lips were sculpted and pink and fleshy. His skin was the palest of golden tones, like sunlight behind clouds. The boy was not very tall, the top of his head barely reaching past Alex’s chin, and he stared up at the man with eyes alight with anticipation.

Most interesting, though, was that he appeared to be very young. Alex wouldn’t place him a day over nineteen.

A shudder ran through the dark-haired man. It’s not right for someone to be that beautiful, he thought, cautiously. He considered everything else he’d encountered so far that day, and decided to be weary of the boy. There was definitely something off about him. He seemed just as bizarre as the rest of the place, though in a more subtle way.

Finally, the beast bowed lowly, speaking as it did so. “I gravely apologize for the delay, my King,” it said in its static voice. “There were some complications.” Alex nearly choked on his next breath. This is the ‘King’ they were talking about…? he thought, shocked. He’s… a kid…!

The boy turned his gaze away from Alex at last, and regarded the bowing giant. “Yes, I was aware of that,” he said in a voice that was as soft and fluid as thick wine, but not terribly deep, “You did well, servant. Tell the kitchen to send some breakfast for my new arrival.” The last was spoken as he returned his gaze to Alex’s gawking face.

The beast rose from its bow, nodding once in understanding before quickly leaving the hall, exiting through the door it had just entered. The silence that followed the creature’s departure was thick and weighted, although Alex appeared to be the only one affected by it.

At last, the King spoke again. The smallest of smiles was on his lips.

“You must be very exhausted,” he said curtly, in a voice so layered with cleverness that it had Alex thinking he was hiding some very important information from him, “And starving, I suspect. Please, sit.” He motioned towards the large dinning table in the center of the room.

Alex made to object, desperately craving answers to the questions still buzzing around frantically in his head, but the King held up a delicate hand to silence him before he could speak.

“I realize you must be very confused,” he said, never taking his eyes from his guest’s copper ones, “but I also suspect you are not feeling quite well at the moment. Sit and eat something. I shall explain your circumstances as you do so, my lovely.”

Alex blinked. Had he misheard…? “My - what -”

Just then one of the small grey creatures same shuffling in with a covered tray balanced in its slender arms. The blond spoke before the taller man could properly form his question. “Ah! Your breakfast has just arrived. Sit, now. Sit, sit -” He herded Alex to the large table, pulling out the chair standing just beside the larger seat at the head. Flustered, the man fell onto the cushioned surface, his host settling himself onto the throne.

The creature set the tray onto the tabletop before the chocolate-haired man, and removed the lid. At once, the strong smells of food bombarded him all over again. Plaintively, he gazed down at the meal. Atop a broad ceramic plate sat two thick-crusted bread rolls, still steaming from the oven, a pile of what appeared to be a mix of chopped ham, boiled potatoes and rice, and a small dish filled with some kind of soup that featured egg as the main ingredient. Beside the plate where two squat, wide glass cups, one filled with water, and the other with a fruit juice that was not orange. The only eating utensils present were a silver fork and spoon.

Alex’s stomach churned violently as his hangover came rushing back.

The King dismissed the little grey creature, and it scuffled away happily. Alex watched its departure until it was through the door and no longer in site. Then, hesitantly, he glanced over to the blond. The shorter man sat comfortably on his throne, legs crossed, leaning forward with his elbows perched delicately on the tabletop and his chin in his hands. His green-hazel eyes shimmered expectantly.

“Uh…” the dark-haired man stammered in a weak voice, swallowing nervously, “I… don’t think I can eat… right now…” he made to cover the dish once again, to escape the smells.

“No no, you must!” his host replied, and snatched the lid from Alex’s grasp, placing it on the other side of the table. “Trust me, young man, you may feel quite ill at the moment, but the only way you will begin to feel better is by feeding yourself. Now, eat.”


The taller man felt his brow furrow. ‘Young man’? he thought, agitated, Who the hell is he calling young? And fuck. There’s no way I’m eating right now. “No,” he said, finally, “I really don’t think I’ll be able to keep anything down. I can’t eat. I’d rather you answer my questions.”

At this, the blond smirked. “I see. Is that what you think? Trust me, Alexander, do as I say. I only have your best interests in mind.” His voice left no room for question. Nevertheless, Alex persisted.

“…How do you know my name?” he said, bewildered. “And I’m not eating this. I can’t eat right now. I think I’m about to vomit.”

The King narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, then. Let us play a game,” he replied, voice a bit less playful than it had been before. “Right now, you want answers very badly. I, however, want you to eat and replenish your strength. So this is what we shall do: You may ask your questions, but I will only answer if you take a bite of food.”

Alex stared, appalled. That sounded like a game a mother would play with her four-year-old. “…Are you joking?” he sputtered. “I told you, I’m going to be sick!”

“Not if you eat. Now, trust me and do as I say. I am being very lenient on your behavior, but you are quickly trying my patience.” He tapped his fingers loudly on the table. “You shall begin. Ask a question.”

The dark-haired man decided to go along with the King’s game, partly because he was very confused and desperately needed some answers, but mostly because the blond struck him as someone whose patience should not be tried.

“Well… fine,” he said, surrendering, and searched his mind for his most pressing question. “What the hell happened to me? Why am I here?” His host placed his chin in his palm once more.

“That is two questions, so two bites.”

Alex exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, and then gazed down at his meal. I’m going to puke all over the place, he thought helplessly, and plucked one of the warm rolls from the plate. Carefully, he tore a small piece from the end and popped it into his mouth, chewing warily. Jamming his eyes shut, he swallowed, expecting his stomach to protest. However, when it did not, he opened his eyes in pleasant surprise and repeated the process.

When he’d finished his required two bites, he turned his gaze upon his host, expectant. The blond smiled.

“Very nice,” he said, voice no longer threatening. “Now, lets see - what happened to you, and why are you here?” He paused, chuckling quietly to himself. Alex’s brows scrunched together.

“What? What’s funny?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just that I expect you wont much enjoy the answers to those questions.” The dark-haired man felt his stomach drop unpleasantly. The King merely smiled and continued. “Well, lets see. What happened to you? I had you captured and removed from your home, with the aid of the servants of the Shadow, who were the ones who brought you here. As for what happened, specifically, to you, you were placed into an induced sleep and brought over the divide. Which is, my dear, most likely the reason you feel the way you do now. Crossing over is stressful on the body - it takes from you. Your energy, your strength - it pulls it away from your fibers. Right now, your body requires food and water to replenish itself.” Alex barely understood any of that.

“What - divide, what-? ‘Dear’-? I don’t understand-”

“As for why you are here,” again, his host did not allow him to form a question, “the answer to that is very simple. Because I wish you to be.” To this, Alex said nothing, processing what he’d just heard. “Now, your next question?”

“…Because you wish me to be?” he finally blurted, incredulously, “Because you wish me to be? What kind of answer is that!”

“Is that your next question?”

“And what’s all this business about ‘the divide?’ What the hell does that mean? ‘Crossing over?’ Am I in another country or something? How long was I out? Fuck! I was abducted and smuggled into another country? Because you wished me to be? Who the fuck are you?” He was enraged. His voice had risen considerably during his line of questioning.

There was a long moment of quiet following the dark-haired man’s minor outburst. The blond merely stared fixedly at his guest, disapprovingly. At last, he said, flatly, “You can only ask one, you know. You’d best make up your mind.”

Alex had to try very hard to keep himself from throwing something. Pressing his palms to his eyes, he breathed slowly and steadily, trying to calm himself. It was several long minutes before he trusted himself to speak without raising his voice again. Finally, he lowered his arms to the table top, allowing his eyes to remain shut. Slowly, he asked his question in a restrained, quiet voice. “Who are you?”

The King smiled. “A bite, my dear,” he said, chin still resting in his palms.

“Why are you calling me that? Stop calling me that.”

“I shall call you whatever I like. Now, a bite.”

Alex complied, knowing he had to choose his battles with care. He tore off another chunk of the roll and consumed it.

“Lovely,” the blond spoke pleasantly. He righted himself in his throne a little, removing his elbows from the table top, and draped his arms languidly on the armrests. The smile spread across his rounded features suddenly became more fox-like, causing him to appear more predatory in nature. The expression was odd on his terrifyingly beautiful, young face. It emphasized his bizarreness, causing him to seem more outlandish than before. “So, then, you wish to know who I am?” Alex nodded, subtly. He suddenly found himself far less angry and far more nervous. The smile on the blond’s features did not fade. “I am the Storm King,” he spoke slowly, as though giving the dark-haired man time to absorb the words, “called Storm Raiser. I am the ruler of the skies of your world. Under my jurisdiction, the elements of wind, rain, air, and lightening do my bidding. I keep them, and I move weather across your planet.” His smile quirked at one corner. “Do you understand?”

Alex stared at the boy for a very long while. At last, he spoke in a droning voice. “You’re… what?”

“A man far more powerful than yourself,” the Raiser simplified, “and your new owner.”

The taller man was certain his mind had come to a grinding halt. He seemed unable to process any of the information he was receiving. Storm King? Raiser? Owner? What? “I don’t… you’re not making… how can you…”

“Have you never heard of a god? I am one of the immortals. Not quite what you expected an immortal to look like, I suppose, hm? Come, now. You must ask another question.”

Alex took a moment to manage his thoughts, and, at long last, decided it was best not to question the boy’s claim. With all the strange and fantastical things he’d encountered already, he was almost inclined to believe him. At that thought, the dark-haired man suddenly shuddered; if the kid really was who he claimed to be, then Alex really was in quite a bit of trouble. After all, what could he do against someone who had enough power to control the weather?

Alex refocused. The King had told him to ask another question. Shit, my brain is so scrambled, the man thought, frustrated. I don’t know what the hell to ask next. There’s too much. I don’t know where to begin. He was silent for a very long while - it seemed there were so many pressing matters that needed to be addressed, all at once. So many questions that needed to be answered, and so many parts of the King’s answers so far that he hadn’t understood. He felt as though he was getting nowhere.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said at last, placing his palm on his forehead. He’d decided it was time to reason with his host. “I… I don’t think this is working. I - I mean, it’s just that - well, I really don’t understand half the things you’re telling me. And there are too many things I still need to ask you, I can’t figure out where the hell to start. Couldn’t you just explain everything to me, from the start? And then I could ask you questions afterward?” The blond raised his eyebrows.

“…Well, I suppose we could do that,” he replied, loftily, “but, if that were to be the case, then I would require you to finish your entire meal before I began my explanation.”

A protest nearly escaped Alex’s lips, but the man stopped himself, and instead considered the option. His stomach certainly hadn’t reacted to his first few bites the way he thought it would, and he was, in fact, quite hungry, despite his nausea. Staring at his plate while he mused on the offer, he suddenly felt more open to the idea of eating. The dark-haired man at last turned his gaze back to the blond, who was observing him expectantly.

“…Fine,” he agreed. Tearing into the still warm roll in his hand, he slowly began to work his way into his meal. He chewed carefully at first, still weary of his stomach despite his hunger. Once he’d finished the first roll, he took a quick drink of water and started into the second.

As he worked his way through the bread, Alex was surprised to find that, rather than his stomach becoming more agitated by the food, it was in fact rapidly beginning to feel better. By the time the man had finished his second roll, both his head and stomach aches had receded to simple, dull pains, and were far more manageable. Lifting his fork, he started into the ham mixture. Not even half way through, his aches were gone completely, and he was suddenly bombarded with his hunger full-force. He tore through the rest of his meal with vigor, filling his impossibly empty stomach, and finished by draining both of his cups. The water washed down his throat like heaven, and the strange juice - it seemed like a mixture of many different kinds of juices - tasted bright and summery after the savory food.

It had been the best meal of his life. Though I’m sure that’s only because I was so fucking hungry, he thought, wryly.

Alex placed the glass back onto the tray, feeling full and satisfied. “That was good,” he commented.

“Yes,” his host replied, “I noticed that you seemed to enjoy it.” There was humor in his voice. Despite himself, Alex felt a small flush of embarrassment rise in his cheeks.

“Yes, well… thanks.”

“Of course, of course. I couldn’t have you feeling ill, now could I?” The blond readjusted his sitting position, folding one of his legs beneath himself, then continued. “Now, as for the explanation you desire - I shall go slowly. You may ask questions as you wish. I grant you permission to speak freely.” Alex had to try very hard to stop himself from raising an eyebrow. Haven’t I been doing that all along…?

The chocolate-haired man leaned back in his seat as the King began speaking, and listened carefully to every word that escaped the boy’s lips. He was determined to understand what the hell had happened to him.
~~

He couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

Alex walked in a daze, unsure as to weather he felt infuriated or terrified, or a combination of the two.

He’d listened to King’s explanation. He’d learned about how the blond had decided he was in need of a ‘pet,’ and how he’d somehow, by some off-chance, managed to catch the immortal’s eye. He’d learned about how the boy had then observed him for a very long while - for years - and how he’d finally decided that Alex was his ideal choice. The dark-haired man shuddered in fury as he recalled just the way the blond had said those words, like he should have been proud of it or something.

The King had then gone on to talk about how he’d obtained him using the servants of the Shadow Lifter, (the mere memory of those monsters was enough to cause the man to tremble in fear,) and how they’d used magic to enter his mind and put him to sleep. He explained how the creatures had taken him over the divide - the fibrous ethereal lining that separated the magical dimension from the substantial one - and how the process was damaging to creatures and materials from Alex’s world, which was the reason for his sickness and torn garments.

Alex had sat through the explanation like a pillar of stone, body still and face emotionless while thoughts churned wildly through his mind. Whenever he was struck with a question, he asked it, and absorbed the reply. By the end, he was furious. Furious. How dare the brat! Alex didn’t care who or what he was, how dare he do what he did to the man! He couldn’t entirely remove a person from their life, simply because he wanted to, because he felt like it…! Alex had a life, he had friends and family and a job, and a home and possessions - this boy didn’t have the right to just take that all away from him. It was wrong!

And yet, while all of these points seethed through his mind, Alex could not find the courage within himself say any of them. He supposed this was because, despite the young, beautiful boy he saw when he looked at the King, the man knew his new ‘owner’ was far more than a mere boy. He had considerable power, which Alex did not want to test. Not just yet, at any rate. The dark-haired man was almost ashamed to admit he was slightly afraid of the blond.

When at last the King had finished his explanation, Alex had only had one question left. He recalled asking, in a begrudged voice ripe with suppressed anger, what exactly was expected of him in his role of ‘pet.’ The question hadn’t been meant as a show of acceptance of his predicament, but instead as a probe, to see what exactly he was in store for until he found a way out.

The man’s anger had only risen when the King had refused to answer, telling his as much with an impish smirk on his face.

But that had all been a short while ago. Now, they were on the move, walking through the blond’s odd palace, and Alex followed his ‘owner’ blindly, half-lost in his own thoughts. He’d left the gigantic hall feeling nothing but pure rage, but, as the walk had progressed, he found himself growing more and more unsettled with each step, his anger waning into apprehension. What was he in store for…? It could be any number of things, anywhere from waiting on the blond like a frenzied servant to being beaten and treated like an actual animal. He shuddered as that last thought crossed his mind. The blond certainly seemed deranged enough to do something like that. For a quick moment, the taller of the two raised his eyes from his feet, and glanced up at the boy who trod before him. I’m sure I could beat him in a fight, he thought, observing the King’s short stature and slender, delicate frame, but I wouldn’t stand a chance against one of those yellow things. It’d turn me into ground beef, I’m sure. He swallowed, dryly. He really didn’t want that to happen.

Turning his eyes back down to the stone ground, Alex once again lost himself to his thoughts as he continued to blindly follow the Raiser. The man wasn’t even entirely sure as to where they were headed. His new owner had simply commanded him to follow, and Alex had begrudgingly complied.

The walk dragged on a bit longer. The chocolate-haired man noticed it was far different from his earlier journey though the castle - the hallways were no longer packed with the odd blue and yellow monsters he’d seen scuttling around before. Now, they appeared to be empty, though a random, unexpected breeze would pass by from time to time, seemingly from nowhere. He saw many doors, but they were all closed, and there were no windows at all.

At last, though, they finally arrived at a large door at the end of a long hallway, arched and made of wooden panels, just like all the rest. This particular doorway was very tall, though nowhere near as tall as the door to the Feasting Hall had been, and was embellished with a delicately carved pattern all along the edges, studded with jewels and shimmering with gold leaf. There was no doorknob to be seen.

The blond turned to face his new possession.

“This is the entrance to my living chambers,” he said in his alto, thick-wine voice, “Once passing through this door, I do not expect you shall be walking back through it for a very long time.”

Alex swallowed heavily. Well, that doesn’t sound promising.

When the King turned back toward the door, he placed his hand on the knob, pushed it open, and stepped aside to allow Alex to pass. It wasn’t until the man was already in the room beyond that he did a double-take, glancing back at the door. Hadn’t it…?

“What…” he mumbled quietly, under his breath.

The Raiser stepped over the threshold as well, closing the door behind him. When he removed his hand from the knob, it was gone once again. As though he had let go of pure air. “This door only opens on my command,” he answered Alex’s unspoken question, a smile on his sculpted lips. “And, for additional assurance, I hide the knob when I have no need for it.” The blond turned to his pet. “It may interest you to know, my lovely, that I have complete control within the walls of my palace. I can change it as I please, move anything within it to anywhere else as I wish. Though I do not have such control beyond these walls.” He turned on his heel and began to walk lazily to another door on the other side of the room. “Also,” he added as an afterthought, not bothering to look over his shoulder, “you should know that I am aware of everything that happens inside this palace, at all times. So I should hope you do not plan to misbehave in any way, or I will know.” Alex closed his eyes. Well, shit, he thought, dismayed.

There was a distinct difference between the King’s living chambers and the rest of the palace. Here, all the rooms, (and there were many, the area very reminiscent of an old European mansion,) had plastered walls, all painted a soothing cream color, trimmed in gold leaf and draped in richly colored fabrics. Some rooms were decorated warmly with scarlet and honey hued velvets, while others were trimmed in more soothing navy blues and stormy greys or greens. Some rooms had easily-defined purposes - a library, or a tea room - while others seemed to be more ambiguous in there usefulness. The whole place confused and awed Alex, all at once.

His new owner lead him up a brief flight of stairs, and down a longer hallway, where a small arched door was situated at the end. The blond opened it and stepped inside, Alex following in toe. He noticed immediately it was the bedchamber.

The room was very large, and fanciful furniture lined three of the walls, carved and polished to perfection. The dark-haired man suddenly realized the King surely could not have use for such and extent of finely-carved night stands and polished dark wood dressers and boudoirs. They must have been there simply for decoration, all draped in the same scarlets and golds he’d seen in other rooms. On the fourth wall - the one opposite the door - a large bed was centered and set close to the ground, draped in sheets the same luxurious cream color as the walls. In the wall on either side of the bed were two large wood-framed doorways which obviously led to a bathroom, the marble floor of which Alex could see from where he was standing. They were not doors one could shut, but simple portals into the next room.

The Raiser closed the door behind Alex. “This is my bedchamber,” he said.

“Yeah… I’d gathered that.” The blond turned to him.

“Now, pet, I have been very kind to you thus far, but now that you are well aware of your situation I expect you to be respectful in your behavior. You must speak properly to me.”

How can you expect someone you abducted to be respectful of you…? Alex thought bitterly, but kept his mouth clamped shut.

The blond seemed somehow satisfied with Alex’s silence, and smiled pleasantly, stepping over to one of the various tables lining the room. He lifted from its polished surface a small pile of neatly folded cream colored cloth, which the dark-haired man could only assume were garments of some kind.

The King offered the pile to Alex with outstretched arms. “Now, I think it would be best if you were to change out of those utterly destroyed shreds you’re wearing now. I believe you will find these clothes far more effective in their purpose.”

Alex stared hesitantly into the flawless face for several moments before accepting the clothes and heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Once there, he unfolded the new garments to observe them. What he had been given turned out to be a simple robe, not unlike the one the Raiser wore himself, though far less embellished. It was uniformly cream, with no other colors, and certainly not studded and bejeweled like his owner’s.

Suddenly wishing there were doors to close, Alex quickly undressed himself down to his bare skin, (Shit, even my boxers are all ripped up, he thought, dismayed,) and hurriedly slipped on his new robe. It had two other ties running through it besides the normal waistband - one band that tied across his midriff, and another just below his chest. A little excessive, he thought to himself, somewhat amused, as he knotted all three securely. After he was once again fully covered, he looked down to observe himself. The robe fit him well enough - just the same as every other ever had - and ended just below his knees. When he bent to scoop up his old, destroyed garments, they were gone.

Stepping out back into the bedchamber, he pointed back into the bathroom, and began to form his question. The King interrupted him.

“I got rid of them. You obviously have no use for them anymore.”

“You - when did you-”

He raised his hand to silence the man. “As I said, I have control over everything within my walls.” Alex closed his mouth, deciding it best not to question and further confuse his already abused mind.

A hush fell over the room, then. Alex was quiet as he observed the smaller of the two, who in turn observed him as well. The dark-haired man watched carefully as the Raiser’s hazel eyes seemed to flit up and down, taking in his entire frame at a leisurely pace. The taller man shifted uncomfortably, feeling stressed under the gaze. The blond seemed to notice the small movement, as his eyes suddenly jumped back up to the man’s face.

He once again gained that fox-like, predatory air Alex had seen earlier. His perfectly shaped eyes twinkled with some unknown, mischievous delight.

“Before,” he spoke, suddenly, and Alex jumped a little from the surprise of it, “you inquired as to what your duties were as my personal pet, did you not?”

The taller man nodded slightly, apprehensive of what was churning about in his masters’ bewildering mind. When the blond spoke again, his voice was far more subdued.

“Well,” he continued, quietly, eyes sharpening, “would you like to know, now?”

A tight knot of uneasiness wound itself in Alex’s gut, but he nodded his head despite the warning, unsure of what else he could do.

The Raiser stepped his way to the taller man carefully, only stopping when he stood mere inches from his new pet. Alex stared down at the boy, eyes widened and brow knitted. What… he thought confusedly, unable to understand what his new owner was up to. Slowly, the blond raised one small, delicate hand, and wrapped it gently around the back of the man’s neck, where it entwined with the short hairs at the base of Alex’s skull. Coaxingly, he pulled downward, and the dark-haired man obeyed, boneless.

Once level, the blond pressed his full lips to the shell of his pet’s ear. “You,” he breathed, in a voice that was barely a voice at all, the soft puffs of air from his words tickling across Alex’s flesh, “are to be my precious pleasure pet, and you will please me whenever my heart desires, without question or defiance.” He paused a brief moment to allow the meaning to sink in, then continued. “You shall itch for my touch, at all times, and here you shall wait for me to come and grant you relief, and lustily await my sway.” He smiled, and the taller could feel the soft motion against his skin. “Do you understand, my lovely pet?”

Alex was frozen. Had he truly just heard what he’d thought he’d just…? That he was supposed to be some sort of… of sex slave? The man was so shocked, he would not have been able to reply to the King’s inquiry, even if his life had depended on him doing so.

The boy pulled away, slightly, his lips brushing a path along Alex’s flesh until he finally came to meet the man’s copper eyes. The smile that played on his features bordered on smugness. “You are so easy to frighten, my lovely,” he said, in the same breathy voice, and slowly pressed his lips to Alex’s.

The chocolate-haired man was too shocked to react at first. His mind had barely been able to process the new information it had just received, and this new turn of events had thrown him through a loop. He stood there, bent over and wide-eyed as the bizarre blond kissed him, (and - oh! What a kiss it was,) unable to find his senses.

It was as the small King pressed his lush lips more firmly to his own, breathing a soft sigh of delight as he did so, that Alex finally found himself. Suddenly shooting back into his own mind, the man’s hands short upward, roughly clutching the blond’s shoulders and pushing him away with as much force as he could muster. The boy stumbled backwards, slight surprise showing on his features as he caught his balance. Panting from anger rather than lack of breath, Alex pointed an accusing finger, all fear suddenly gone from his person. “No,” he barked, in a voice deadly with rage, “No! I am not going to be some disgusting… sex slave for some fucking insane little freak! How dare you! How dare you! I had family - friends - a life! How dare you take everything I’ve ever had away from me, and then tell me I’m going to be some pathetic slave to your… perversions! If you think for one - one! - second that I’ll consent to this, you’re fucked! Absolutely not! Fuck you! Fuck this place! Fuck everything about it! I hate it! I wont stay. You send me the fuck home, now, or I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” the Raiser’s smile was audible in his voice, “What will you do? Kill me? Escape? Run away? How amusing! How amusing that you think you hold any kind of power here, over me! How amusing that you demand things of me, how absolutely hysterical that you’d even begin think for a moment that I’d comply! How-”

Alex didn’t allow him to finish his jeer, instead charging him, readying himself to strike the blond. But, as the taller man threw his punch, the boy caught his hand easily, using the limb spin the dark-haired man around. In a gesture that stunned Alex with the surprising amount of force and strength behind it, the smaller of the two pushed his pet forward, and he landed on the bed face first, temporarily blinded as cream colored sheets encased his vision. Alex gasped in pain as his owner wrenched his arm agonizingly up his back, and held him pinned there with an amount of brute strength someone his size should not possess.

“You foolish toy,” the boy spoke in his ear, no longer amused, but degrading, like a mother scolding her child. “How imprudent of you to assume anything about me based on my mere appearance. Were you going to beat me until I granted you freedom? Was that your plan? How clever!” He wrenched Alex’s arm a little further up his back, and the man cried out pitifully.

“I - no, I - oh god, please…” He squeezed he eyes shut, biting back tears. Taking pity on his pet, the Storm King released his arm, but continued to keep him pinned. The man sighed in relief, cradling his arm to his body as best he could.

“I have no desire to hurt you, my lovely. But I will not hesitate in punishing you.” He paused, running a hand through the taller man’s short, chocolate colored hair. “My dear, why do you hate to stay? Just what part of that shattered mess you call a life do you miss, exactly? The family you haven’t seen in years? The friends you never wish to spend time with? The job you despise? The ex-lover you can’t stand? Oh, my precious pet, you will be far better off here, with me. Give it time. You shall see.” The King rose then, releasing Alex. Gently, he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, turning him over, and settled atop him once more. The dark-haired pet gazed up at the blond with far more apprehension than he had previously, now more aware of what he was capable of.

The shorter of the two stretched the length of himself over his new possession, softly brushing his fingertips over the smooth flesh of Alex’s jaw line. He stared down at him with adoring eyes, admiring the masculine beauty of his new toy. “You are so exquisite to gaze upon,” he spoke, quietly, his vision flitting to various points on the man’s face. “Despite your ill behavior, I am not disappointed with you. In fact, I find myself more pleased than I thought I would be. You will be so enjoyable for me, I am already sure.”

His feather-light fingertips dipped lower, grazing ticklishly over Alex’s neck, briefly exploring the soft flesh there, savoring the feel of it. The dark-haired man swallowed nervously, his fright still tangible, and the delicate motion beneath his fingers excited the blond in some small, wonderful way. He smiled, his hand dipping yet lower, beneath the neckline of the man’s robe. The boy exhaled slowly as he traced his pet’s collar bone with sensuous delight.

The King lowered his head, whispering against the taller man’s lips in a voice that held the first heated hints of arousal. “And you shall come to enjoy yourself as well, I am also sure.” He pressed his lips upon his pet’s with desire, and his body surged slightly in reaction to doing so.

Alex shivered, closing his eyes as he began to kiss back, too frightened to do anything else.
~~~~


How’s that for a place to leave off? :3 Please do not jab me with pointy objects! *hides*

Were you guys surprised by the Raiser’s appearance? I tried to hide the fact that he had a young-looking exterior so that it would be a bit of a surprise when you found out ^^ Did I succeed…?

And, of course, I beg you again, please review!