Darkness Ascendant, Part I

Disclaimer and Warnings: See Prologue

A/N: The following chapters contains some gory images. Consider yourself forewarned.


Chapter 7

Bleary eyes blinked open. What had happened? Kasha shook her head. Oh right, she was looking for Ash. Sighing at the unfairness of having to look for her friend in the middle of the night….well closer to early morning now, in the middle of one of the worst neighborhoods in Desiderata, and whatever she’d been drinking was starting to wear of. Not enough really to make her think coherently but enough that she could most definitely feel the cold seeping from the around her especially from the hard brick wall where her cheek was resting against a building. Although, she had to admit as she peeled her face away, the cold felt nice. As if she had been deliriously feverish and was only now starting to see reality again but still feverish.

Shrugging she staggered forward, weaving left to right and back again as she continued down the street having no idea of where she was going. An occasional person brushed passed her, hardly seeming to pay her any notice, not that she would have been aware if anyone had. Even the tough looking street punks that began following her as she rounded a corner to smack right into something, solid and smooth and most definitely hard, but not cold. Not like the brick wall. No this, whatever it was exuded warmth. Raising her head, she pushed curls aside to find herself eyelevel with a white-clad well-chiseled chest. Following the line of the buttons up to the neck and eventually face, Kasha found herself staring into the most beautiful soft lavender eyes ever. Not human, was the first rational thought that broke through her fogged brain. Yet her eyes would not move beyond the iridescent lilac eyes and burnished ginger hair, classically handsome features. That was, not until a faint irritated rustle of feathers drew her attention to the enormous, perfectly balanced pair of white feathered wings arching gracefully from his back.

A Bright Lord. A stunningly gorgeous Bright Lord. And one her few functioning brain cells registered as having seen before, at the crime scene. What had Mikhaila named him? Ah. Right. Her brain crowd in triumph once it remembered. Captain Trevelyane Bresii. Leaning forward, she pressed against him, smiling through lowered lashes, not caring that this was a Bright Lord, that what she was doing was completely beyond improper behavior, not caring that only a couple of days ago she’d been turning pale and sweaty with anxiousness at simply being in the man’s presence. Nothing mattered except that she liked him. And besides, if Ash had found someone to warm her, why shouldn’t she?

The colors from before were starting to fade back to dull, grayness, shapes reforming, shifting back with in their defined boundaries. Except him. He was still bright and glowing and sharply defined to her strange perception.

“Hi.” She managed somehow not to slur as her tongue felt thick and awkward. “You’re cute.” She smiled charmingly, or what she thought was charmingly up at him.

Trevalyane peered down strangely at the odd little human that had bumped into him. After his confrontation with Rhadu he’d gone for a walk about the city to calm his nerves and cool his temper before heading back to the loft. In order to face Luxien, knowing he was working behind his friend’s back with his friend’s most hated enemy, he would need to be as composed as possible or else Luxien would know something was wrong, as he’d known when Trev had attempted to hide Rhadu’s involvement in the darkling case from the other Bright Lord. It did not matter where he walked, no one dared bother him. Until now.

Trev studied the girl, almost instantly starting to dismiss her as either drunk or insane or when something about her psyche brushed against his as he started to move around her. Turning back to face her, he gripped her chin in a sure, steal-like grip without being painful, tilting her head this way and that.

“What are you doing wandering these streets girl?” Already having decided that the human was not a prostitute as so many who braved the darkened streets were. His eyes piercing her mind, searching, empathic senses skimming her psyche, combing it for information.

“Was looking for ‘m friend, Ashie.” She not so much slurred as she drawled, “But can’t find her. She’s gone.” Kasha pouted, making a feeble attempt to bat the man’s hand off of her face. “Whatcha doing huh?” A slight challenge creeping along the edges of her tone.

“Hush.” Trev murmured softly, studying glazed eyes, pupils too dilated drowning out all color, the faint pallor and sheen of perspiration forming. But it was what he found in the psyche that was far more telling, far more damning. Within every mind there were constructs, gates and fences meant to be kept closed in order to keep certain impulses, certain instincts at bay allowing for a sort of mental and emotional balance. This girl’s mind was a mess as far as that went. Certain doors meant to remain shut were blasted open and others meant to be open were slammed shut. Logic and rational had no place now, while desire and need ran rampant. Combined with the physical evidence Trev could only come to one conclusion.

Synergy. Trev cursed. A rather recent and extremely popular street drug, becoming especially popular in clubs and among lower classes. Although high society, in some cases, did not seem above sipping on the stuff every now and again. Synergy was an easily made, highly potent Idic drug. Idic drugs were far more dangerous than most as they completely loosened any inhibitions the user might have. No conscience, rational or logic ruled those that used it, instead they became completely at the mercy of their personal pleasure and need based centers, their most basic and instinctual drives. Anything could be said or done to them or by them and they would not care. Nothing would matter as long as the user was satisfied and happy. No pain or displeasure registered. Nerves could be severed, arteries cut and none of it would register as painful to the user-everything become converted into pleasure, joy. Synergy represented complete and utter freedom from any form of personal responsibility or morality. Right and wrong didn’t matter. Synergy turned users into friendly sociopaths without the homicidal tendencies.

Of all the cursed luck. This was definitely his black feather day. First the mess with Luxien, then the assignment with Rhadu and now this….synergy dazed human.

“How much Synergy did you take?” Trev asked softly, not wishing to drive off the girl as he released her chin and stepped back, his probing done. She frowned, pouting in the most adorable way, crossing her arms over her chest,

“I don’t do drugs!” Kasha snapped indignantly, “Just drink. Drink and drink.” Another giggle, “what about you? You drink?” Trev smiled softly using his empathy to exude calm and friendship.

“Sometimes. Here.” Reached his hand out to the human. “You seem a bit tipsy.” His glance flickered briefly over the girl’s shoulder spotting the movement of several hungry looking thugs eyeing her. “Come.” He whispered softly as she took his hand, pulling her close, wings folding around them protectively, “Allow me to escort you home. Just tell me where you live?” Wide, unseeing eyes attempted to focus on him, a startled innocence reflected back at from their ebony depths.

“Home?” That soft voice echoed back, “But Ash….” Trev shook his head, hushing her with his finger,

“Rest. I will come back and search for you friend later. But you need sleep or else I’m sure you’ll have one nasty hangover.” A faint teasing smirk curling his lips.

“Oh. Course. Thanks.” She muttered, head beginning to drop as his suggestion soothed her psyche. All that could be done for Synergy ingestion was to allow her to sleep it off as one would alcohol albeit the after affects tended to linger longer with more far reaching damage to the spirit and mind. Just before nodding off she mumbled and address for him to follow.

Spreading his wings out he flapped them once readying for launch when he was rocked back on his heels-physically-by a burst of dark pranic energy. Its signature unmistakable as anything but the birthing energy of Myrkrfolkith, flooding down the street in a concentric rippling effect. Trevalyane cursed whatever cosmic energy was responsible for his luck that day. This absolutely had to be investigated no exceptions, yet he could not leave the girl sleeping, perhaps unconscious in a drug torpor in this neighborhood while the predators were prowling the streets and alleys.

Luxien! He reached out frantically, urgently with his mind.

Trev? What..? His fellow Bright Lord’s slightly bewildered yet edgy tone laced with a hint of discomfort and unease was cut off as Trev asked, Did you feel that?

Yes. The usual brilliant and rich texture of Luxien’s mental voice was bogged down by weariness. A new one of them has Awakened. Why Trev?

Because I’m damn near the epicenter. But I cannot go and investigate, prior duty engages my time. Can you…?

Of course. Guide me to where you are and I will handle this.

Thank you, my friend. Trev sighed with relief, the mental touch of it tickling Luxien the way a soft summer breeze would. Cutting the contact with the other Lord’s mind, Trev wove the energies, the unique signatures of the area together pranically creating a Tracer, laying it in the general direction from which the blast had come before handing the other end to Luxien.

Good luck, my friend. And launched himself towards the sky, in a flurry of feathers, one passed out human girl hanging limply from his arms.



Pain. The world, no more specifically her world was nothing but pain. It revolved around pain. Her body one open raw nerve ending. Groaning pitifully pale eyes peeled open, the simple action requiring great effort. Muscles all over ached and protested even the simplest movements as she attempted to raise her hand only to watch through wavering sight as it dropped again. Cold seeped through her clothes, into her body, to the marrow of her bones, freezing her insides, freezing her soul. Shuddering so hard her teeth cracked together, she attempted to role over. Managing to do so after great effort and sickening ripping sound from behind her as she did. Her back felt stick as if coated with syrup….or blood. Panicked breaths whistled through her teeth as her lungs heaved and labored to suck in pure fresh oxygen.

Pulling her legs under her to kneel on the ground despite the screaming aches of her strained muscles, she huddled there for several minutes, spine bent and oddly heavy, mind a jumbled chaos of fragmented images, memory splintered and the shard spinning incomprehensively. She felt raw-inside and out. Tiny muscle spasms still wracked her body as she clutched the nearest wall for support-bloodied hands scrapping and sliding on the harsh gray concrete. The young woman managed to stand and straighten for a split second before double over again, only the wall keeping her upright instead of sliding immediately back to the ground, as mind numbing pain and need gnawed her center, clawing its way from her abdomen through her back and radiating outward from there.

Sobbing she slowly forced herself to straighten, to stagger down the stairs, a soft dragging, scrapping sound following her but she never turned around to investigate. Her existence had come to revolve around the burning ache in her stomach, that need that parched her throat and made her head swim as if faint with hunger. Unshed tears blurred her vision; a moan of pain and fear trickling passed her lips. A creature of instinct, the bloody form of the girl blindly made its way out of Desiderata’s Northside. Sticking to shadows, and back alleyways, driven by an irrational paranoid terror of discovery-by whom she could not tell-the bedraggled figure made its way to the suburbs.

Years seemed to pass in the span of hours or perhaps hours had passed in the span of a heartbeat, she could not tell, until she found herself blinking profusely at a yard gate to a rather normal, carbon copy looking house. Its duplicates lining both sides of the street. Reaching over the wooden fence, she slid the bolt open and slipped unseen among the shadows inside. Not bothering to close the gate before she collapsed in a wretched heap next to the garbage. Whatever energy or adrenaline had carried her this far exhausting itself. She did not know where she was, or what she was doing here-she did not even know who she was at the moment. All she knew was this was safe.

Pulling on the pain, hardening it inside, feeding on it, drawing strength from for it meant she was still alive, she rose on trembling limbs once more to fish a single key from a potted plant next to the garage door, and let herself inside. Allowing her body to move her automatically, she unlocked the main house and stepped inside, shadows slithering unnoticed around her feet, the darkness hissing in her ears like a poisoned wind. Grasping the smooth wooden handle of the handrail, she slowly, soundlessly as if a zombie or in some dream state, sleepwalking, made her way up the circular stairs. Arriving at the landing, she studied the hallway as it went left or right but instinctively turned right where there were two bedrooms conjoined by a single bathroom.

Turning the knob to the one on the right with a soft creak, she stepped inside unhindered and shedding the shredded remains of her jacket in the middle of the floor pushed on through random piles of junk towards the bathroom. Her body no longer ached. It was past that having gone completely numb. The only feeling was the fainting throbbing of an infinite number of miniscule scratches everywhere and that ever-present gnawing hunger now in the back of her throat, constricting it making it feel as parched as a desert with no oasis in sight. Her brain felt stuffed full of cotton a sharp contrast to the nagging sensation of having swallowed glass that trailed down from her mouth to her guts.

Strangely enough it never bothered her to consider turning on any lights. There was no need really, she saw just fine as it was. As if in slow motion the tap was turned and warm water came rushing out, her eyes sliding unconsciously to her left where a door led to the other bedroom. Pouring the water over and over her hands till the sink was coated pink with blood she cleaned them as best she could before splashing her face, peeling as much of the dry, crusted brown flaked substance as she could. Lowering her hands she froze, head tilting quizzically as she studied her own reflection.

A petite young woman stared back at her with skin gleaming like polished alabaster, and a thick mass of shimmering brilliant dark red hair, appearing almost black in the darkness. Phosphorescent cat eyes reflected back at her the color grayish golden-green. The colors somehow overlapping and mingling yet remaining individually distinguishable. Full red lips curled back into a predatory smile. A sense of familiarity flowed over her at the sight. And the mirror cracked. Spider webs shooting off, running together in tragic patterns, vanishing into the wall, and with it that sense of recognition. A light flickered on in the other bedroom and a muffled voice could be heard over the running water. Without a thought, she carelessly flicked the tap off and moved towards the light. Moved to investigate what lay beyond. Driven by curiosity and something else.

A dark seductive whispering curling around her thoughts, around her mind and she licked her lips. Straining to hear better as she opened the door. A tall, thin man in boxers and a t-shirt gazed balefully at her from the middle of the room, halfway between the bed and the door. From the bed, half sitting up and barely awake a handsome middle-aged woman studied her.

“What are you doing young lady? Coming home at this hour. Disturbing us. You better have a good explanation for this or….” The man’s eyes widened and he took a staggering step back as his voice died in his throat.

“What? How?” Horror, loathing, disgust. All threaded together through his voice as the questions chocked out in a guttural demand. But she was not paying attention to him or them. His voice drowned out by the sudden onslaught of voices in her head, by the twisted whispers that grew louder in her own voice. Images, piecemeal pictures involving these people. Couldn’t remember who they were. Couldn’t remember. The only thing that came through clearly concerning them was hurt, and anger, oh such anger, such fierce delicious irrational hatred. The taste of it coated her throat. Flickering her tongue out she could taste something else now on the air as well...Fear. Their fear and it was more intoxicating then wine, more savory than any meat. She had to have more. Had to repay hurt for hurt. They had to pay.

Lips pulling back in a twisted, cruel mockery of a true smile, she stepped towards him, somehow covering the distance between them in a span of seconds, faster than he had time to react.

“Shut up.” She commanded in a low, conversational tone. Invading his personal space, one hand trailed up along the jaw to tangle in the hair as she leaned forward, cheek-to-cheek, sniffing, nuzzling the neck as a great cat might. “Your fear,” she whispered tongue tasting the pulse before she pulled back, “it’s exquisite.” One hand still gripping the back of his neck, keeping him immobile, the other trailing down from the collarbone in a feather-light touch coming to rest above the heart, right below the sternum. Luminous eyes held plain ones as her fingers curled into resembling hooks,

“You’ve caused me harm, father,” the word naturally rolled over her tongue, “it’s time for me to return the favor.” Such insincere sweetness honeying her words. Before the disbelieving man could react, she drove her hand through his chest. Her sense of smell suddenly flaring as fresh blood flowed over her hand, cascading down onto the floor. And the clawing, aching hunger flared nearly bringing her to her knees, but somehow, by sheer will she managed to stay upright. Still smiling, she yanked her hand out, his still beating heart in her clutches. The lifeless body slumped to the ground, dying without a sound.

Smirking wickedly at the woman now identified as ‘mother’ but with no sentimental meaning, no true understanding attached to the word, she raised the heart as if in some gory salute before biting into it. Thick rich heart’s blood ran down her throat, coating her insides. Suckling on it, she drained the heart dry, feeding the hunger as it drove her. Tossing the dehydrated glistening organ over her shoulder, she stalked towards the petrified frozen woman on the bed. Pale, doll like face painted with macabre red, she jumped onto the bed, straddling the prone form of the woman.

“Don’t you love me anymore mother?” She crooned softly, blood and gut slickened fingers stroking a weathered cheek, caressing that terrified face like one soothing a child after a nightmare. Terror, hatred, despair waiffted from the whimpering human trapped below her like the freshest, richest perfume or bouquet. Closing her eyes and leaning backward, she drew in a deep breath, devouring the taste of them. Swiping sanguine christened lips with the tip of her tongue she dipped downward, mingling breaths,

“Tsk. Tsk. You shouldn’t hate your own daughter.” Pressing forward, lips meeting lips in a chaste kiss. Fingers caressing the throat with a tenderness contrary to the violence presented in her previous actions and appearance. “A mother,” she added thumbs pressing harshly into yielding flesh, “is suppose to be warm, caring, supportive.” The fingers joined the thumbs, nails propelled by in human strength began rip through flesh, lips swallowing cries of pain and pleadings for mercy. “Not trying to live another life-mistake free-through her child.” Peeling back from the windpipe in either direction, exposing the whole of the throat tearing arteries and veins. Assured of silence by the gurgling and taste of blood on her lips, she lowered her head and lapped at the revealed throat like an animal, messily drinking from a fresh fount till the hunger was satisfied.

Soothed and quieted, the darkness within caged, she threw her head back and howled primally, memory fragments coming together, coalescing to form a single coherent picture. Her sanity, her identity returning to her in a crushing flood as her new body was feed, and finished healing itself, finished its transition.

Ash. She gasped. Eyes snapping open. Her name was Ashanna Linden and…and…horrified eyes stared down at the body beneath her. Dead eyes, pain filled and terrified, stared accusingly back. Ash whimpered as nausea rolled through her. Her mother. There was no need to glance to the side for her to know what she saw. Her father. She’d killed. Them. No not just killed them-slaughtered them, mutilated them. Drank their blood. With a sickened, horrified shriek she threw herself away from the bodies landing on the floor with a harsh ‘THUD’, scrambling, crawling away into a corner and throwing up till she became dizzy, throwing up till there was nothing left to regurgitate.

Ancestors, she moaned silently, what have I done? What have I become? Previously unused muscles in her back responded as blood matted black feathered wings curved forward to wrap around her body, shielding her. Her rocking back and forth seized at the slow realization of several things hit her at once. The attack at the club. Her reflection. Wings. Wings. Black feathered wings. I’m a…she gasped, swallowing hard, I’m a….she shuddered again. No, how can this be. It’s impossible! Her mind screamed in protest, in denial. Yet there was no denying the hard evidence before her eyes. Some how, some time during the night she’d become a Dark Lady.

Sucking in rivulets of harsh, soul shredding sobs Ash rose unsteadily and clambering out the window, to the yard, vanished into the anonymous darkness of night.