The Thing in the Pit

[deacon]

The fire trying to escape its tawny confines had Deacon’s body shimmering like a lantern now, and his narrowed azure eyes had taken on an eerily bright, diamond like glow.
Though the space of the bar parted them, the dragon panted angrily; the very smell of her pale skin searing his memories like the most potent kind of acid.
He wanted nothing more in that moment than to wrap his fingers around her neck until he heard the crunch of bone, and unbidden, the nails of his digits lengthened into razor sharp claws and the fangs burst forth from his gums. The dragon within would not stay confined for much longer.

The ghostly intervention drew his attention from the witch for an ephemeral moment and though he protested the specters by reaching out to grasp Lillie’s hand, he forced himself to let it go without a struggle, knowing that she was just as vulnerable around -him- in this state than she was with the sorceress. He mourned the loss of her proximity with a deep grumbling within. The thunder outside THE PIT crashed in unison with the storm brewing in his soul and fat raindrops begun to thump against the roof as one settled in the corner of his intense stare. But these rain drops would not fall.

“The only thing I recall is pain. And then emptiness…” Deacon replied in a growl that sounded more beast than man, punctuating the two words so that they could properly explain the depth of them. His white hot eyes were narrowed on his rival, and now that his swollen mate was no longer at his back, he willed the dragon to take control.
The shifter snorted and a wisp of smoke escaped his flared nostrils; the flames practically crawling up the back of his throat as he moved closer to his enemy.
The flying chairs and wailing phantoms did nothing to deter the dragon’s mission, so when Carlotta let loose a shriek and a corporal blast of malice, he was nearly dropped to his knees. The lingering dark magic held him with invisible shackles; shackles which took a thunderous roar and all of his strength to break free from.

“Enemy mine.” Deacon snarled, addressing her once more as he forced his trembling body to move towards her. “You stole everything from me. My mate. My dignity. My life…What sort of fever has taken hold of your mind to make you EVER believe that you could own me again now that Fate has returned what was thieved?” He clenched his taloned fists until he felt the warm spring of crimson when the sharp points pierced the skin of his palm and winced as the muscles of his body tightened; ready to shift.

But not yet. The words perched on his tongue had been waiting be freed for hundreds of years and he meant to give them flight.

“The very sight of you curdles my stomach. If there were not brimstone in my throat now it would be rising bile in its place. I am sickened by the stench of your malice. Made flaccid and impotent by the lie in your smile…”

Despite the whirlwind of movement and noise that surrounded them, you could almost hear a pin drop as he took another slow tread towards the witch, her anger turning up the corner of his lips into a smile. Deacon let out a throaty laugh then; a frenzied laugh that sounded alien coming from the usually emotionless dragon. The creature within was fueled by her jealousy and anger; amused by it.
A grotesque resonance of breaking bones sounded, and the shifter moaned quietly as he felt the slow repositioning of tissue and ligaments beginning inside of him.
The threat against his wife was the last straw. Scales began to erupt from underneath the taut, tawny skin.

“If you want my return, you will have to drag me there.” He told her in a voice that was no longer the human’s but the ancient reptile. “I dare you.”

And the dragon did the most unexpected thing. As if toying with the sorceress, Deacon held out a his hand, palm up. He bent up his taloned digits; one, two, three times. He was not a man meant for this modern world but he -had- seen the Matrix. Twice.

[carlotta]

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

God, those words…they cut her, like acid knives to her skin. Dismay and hurt flashed onto her face as she gasped and jerked, as if his growled statement slapped her. How could he think such horrible things? She’d loved him so much that she’d hid him away; taken him away from that useless life and that useless woman. He needed someone who understood his beast inside; someone as bloodthirsty and powerful as he. Not some…defenseless little human like that bitch Madalein! He needed HER! How could he not see that?

Snarling on dismay’s heels came a hot, raging anger; as palpable as the heat drifting off of the ancient shifter’s skin. How dare he treat her so? After all she’d done for him! After the army that she’d bred for him, the nights she’d spent in his arms, telling him things she’d never said to another soul…HOW DARE HE!

With a shriek as her only response, Carlotta dug deep into the darkness inside her and willed the floor to shake with the righteous anger she felt inside. Fine, he wanted to be stupid and pretend that he felt nothing for her? That she was some kind of deluded simp? Fine…he could die along with that bitch he was protecting!

The image of the pregnant psychic ran through her mind and she screamed again, the building practically shaking on its foundation as it fueled her rage. No, death would be too pleasant for the shifter. She’d force him to watch her as she tortured his ‘mate’ until she begged for death, then consume the young inside her, absorbing that wonderful power. When the bitch was dead, the shifter would be hers again. He’d tell her that he loved her. She would make him.

Extending her arms toward the shifter, as if reaching for that offered hand, she loosed a wave of dark energy. Floorboards, pieces of the broken chairs around her and various other objects flew with it, creating a tiny typhoon of sharp wooden shards. She wanted to smell his blood, like she smelled the sweet call of his flesh. She wanted to hurt him, punish him, make him take what the horrible things he’d said to her. The untrue things. Untrue; all of it was untrue!

”Fine, you want to be dragged? Then I’ll drag you! You’re mine! My dragon! My slave!”

He loved her! And he would admit it!


**********************************************************

**********************************************************

And while Carlotta was having her psychotic meltdown, Lillie was doing her best not to freak out in Ilani’s very protected office. She could hear the sounds of raised voices from outside and felt the ground shake, but dammit, nothing else! Pounding on the door and jiggling the lock had gotten her nowhere, so she’d turned to banging on it with a now broken chair leg. She’d by Lani a new one later.

”Damn it!” She cursed, throwing the chair leg onto the floor in frustration. Whatever the ghosts were doing to the door was definitely strong, because she couldn’t get the stupid thing to budge.

Pressing her ear against it, she tried to listen to the voices outside. She heard the muffled sound of Carlotta’s shrieking voice and sobbed in relief when Deacon’s sounded next. She could practically feel his anger from there and wanted so badly to be out there with him. Who cares if her presence might distract him? She’d promised him that he’d never be alone and she’d meant that with all her heart. When would be a better time to live up to that vow, than when he faced his abuser?

”Let me out, damn it!” She knocked her fist against the door again, more in frustration than anything else. ”I’ll be alright! Just let me out. Please, I need to see him!”

Whatever else she was going to say was abruptly cut off, as the building began to shake. Startled, she stumbled a few steps back and fell onto her rear with a gasp. What the hell was going on out there?!

Like dominos, the knick knacks around Ilani’s office began to shake and fall, and Lillie huddled against the door, shielding her head and her belly protectively. A thunk sounded from the other side of the door, and her heart skipped when she heard her friend’s voice.

”You guys are gonna fucking pay for new interior decorating!” The psychic roared, over the sounds of Carlotta’s tirade. ”Or I’M gonna be the one to kill you! Stay down, Lil! And pray to God that your hubby doesn’t burn the damn place to the ground!”

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

Deacon’s hackles rose, sensing the dark wave a moment before the source of the swell opened her arms and released the sea; splitting the building to its very foundation from the looks of the flying glass and wood and the earth quaking that was doing underneath him. The ancient shifter had already been crouched in a position of attack; facing her, legs slightly bent, his arms stretched towards her and the dragon inside just waiting for the moment to strike. But he had been momentarily distracted from the assault by the mesmerizing look that had etched itself across her pale, striking countenance. Oh yes, the sorceress was as lovely as a midnight sky; ominous, potent, with eyes that could cut a man to the very core. But he was -no- man, was he.
The ephemeral look of hurt told the story of the pain his words had caused; as good a weapon against the female as the heaviest, sharpest of swords. That pain flared out at the dragon like a corporal ripple, feeding the animal clawing to get out of him; ripping at the flesh of his arm.

The smooth tawny plane gave way to the slick, black scaled membrane underneath, and a roar loosed itself from the shifter; the slow shift was always intolerably excruciating.
A group of glass shards flew toward him like a crystalline sea of fish; assisting the dragon more as it tore through the skin on his face. The handsome visage of Deácon Magnus Aodhagán became a monster from the big screen; half attractive male, but the other half of his face peeling back to reveal the reptile that was the other part of him.

“I am no one’s slave!” The shifter bellowed; falling to his knees on the surf of black magic as it rolled out. He clenched his hands and snarled as the digits split open to expose the black talons; claws shredding the floorboards beneath them as easy as through paper.
Letting his head fall back against his neck Deácon loosed another howl, this one bringing up the brimstone that had been ablaze in his throat since laying intense cobalt eyes on the witch. It flared up and out, crackling in the air before landing in an arc around the dark female.
Catching the hem of her attire, the flames licked up her form, giving the dragon a chance to pull himself up to stand, taking in the scene around them.

He could feel the pull of his woman from behind the door of a far back room, and it nearly tugged the heart right out of his chest. Lille’s fear and desperation were a palpable thing; wounding him more than the witch ever could. It was the inner dispute that tore him in two. Finish the witch here and now or save his woman from the stress that was surely seeping to the very core of her. And could he finish the witch without taking his true form, and defiling what he knew to be such a huge part of his friend; the psychic.

Reveries of being Carlotta’s slave made up the dragon’s mind before the man could finish the thought. It ripped itself free of the feeble human form until its big black body crowded interior; jaws open and dripping with acid rain; teeth gleaming for a taste of her translucent glowing skin.

[lillie]

((Yeah, so this one came out a bit random-like. I SORREH IN ADVANCE. XD ))


**********************************************************

**********************************************************


“Holy fuckin’ shit! My bar! YOU GUYS ARE GONNA PAY FOR ALL THIS DAMAAAAAAGE…”

Ilani’s voice howled through the door, as Lillie continued to pound on it.

“Let me out, Lani!”

“No!”

“Yes! Let me out!”

“No!”

“Dammit, Lani, I can help!”

“No, all you’ll do is get yourself ki—AAIEE! My custom made bar counter! My limited edition skeleton! My future coffin! FUCKIN’ KICK HER ASS, DEACON!”

The sounds coming from outside were torturous; a cacophony of wood creaking and objects shattering, accompanied by Ilani’s angry howling. The floor beneath her shook and tilted, and if she didn’t know any better, she could hear a similarly deafening roar that sounded suspiciously like the dragon side of her mate. Good Lord, had he shifted inside the bar? How was his bulk going to fit inside? He’d be vulnerable; unable to move, without hurting himself! Not to mention that he couldn’t exactly let the outside world know about his ‘special side,’ and they were cutting it close, if the cops hadn’t already been called for all the noise. Hopefully, those ghosts were making the same kind of protective bubble around the bar, as they were around the room.

Ilani, witnessing Deacon’s true form for the first time, stilled for a second in between yowling and stared in awe. He was so big, so powerful, so…burning the shit out of her floors! She let loose a triumphant yell as the flames licked at the witch’s feet, watching her dance around with glee, but it was short lived. Shit, they had to take care of this face, before Doobie went and put his freaking head through the ceiling!

The soldiers looked exhausted, especially the ones making sure Lillie was safe, and Cash was still doing his best to rally the others from the In Between, back into reality. There wasn’t anything she could do, short of cower in the corner and curse. And damn, was it annoying.



&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

On the other end of the room, Carlotta was a roiling mass of anger, hatred and…lust. Even though the dragon’s words had cut her heart to ribbons, the sheer power that he exuded was enough to make her forget what he’d said and take him into her arms. Gods, look at him in his dragon form! Now THERE was the true ruler of this pitiful world. A warrior who matched her, bloodlust for bloodlust. Now, all she had to do was get rid of that annoying female, and he would be hers again.

When the fire erupted from his frame, the witch fell back with a curse. The dark energy radiating out of her swelled, protecting her as best as it could, and she used the time between his change and when those reptilian eyes focused on her again to dart toward the back door. The psychic was no problem; another swipe of her arm sent the woman flying toward the dragon.

“Catch her, my love! Catch her if you can!” She called out, on a laugh. The psychic screamed, flying through the air with her arms flailing. Oh, what a scene! If only she had a camera on hand. She would distract the dragon with attempting to catch his human friend, and with another swipe of her hand, made sure half the floorboards went to blinding him.

The next would-be problem was the office itself, surrounded by those pesky ghosts as it was. A ball of black, oily magic appeared in her hands and she shot it at the door, keeping her protective circle about herself. Sweat beaded across her brow and she knew she had very little time before the dragon lashed out at her again…but yes! There it was! The wood splintered and cracked, as the ghosts themselves started to wail and fade, obviously losing energy fast.

Through the cracks in the door, she could see the psychic’s frightened face. The woman had backed away and was clutching…a wooden chair leg? How perfect! Another blast gave her a nice sized hole, into which she snarled at the prophet, loving the fear that practically rolled off of her.

“You will be still, slave!” She howled, over the noise of the fire and the wind she’d summoned. “Or the next spell I cast will eat through your woman’s heart.”

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

Deacon tried to move, but his mass filled the cramped space, and he let loose a roar at his sudden vulnerability.
Shifting had not been the most brilliant of ideas; especially given the fire trying to work its way out his maw at the moment, but the creature within him was wild and trying to contain or control it was futile.

The wood beneath his massive claws creaked in protest, and reptilian eyes narrowed at the whining floorboards as he swung his scaly tail around, accidently striking a piece of bar counter. He groaned, and the sound came out miserable and desperate. He dragon could hear the desperate pleas and arguments between Lillie and Lani more clearly in this form, and he needed to hold her, right now, despite his desire to kill the witch.

Was she still safe there? Did she know that he loved her more than life? More than vengeance? That to watch her birth their babe was the only dream that he could see when he closed his eyes at night?

It had to be done. The witch would not steal his dreams this time. She was going to die here --this night. And he could finally be at peace with his mate; for Eternity.
The shifter loosed another furious hiss and wrenched his immense head towards the retreating raven headed sorceress.
His jaw was open revealing rows of acid dripping pointed teeth, and what do you know? Deacon was hungry for cow. Too bad it was going to disgust the fuck out of him. A little fire damage in a bar was easy to explain. Dragon vomit was a whole different story.

When his radiant azure eyes caught sight of Carlotta it was with the release of a livid growl. The black haired witch was making her way towards the back; closer to the hiding place of his lover. Deacon moved towards her; tucked wings shifting angrily behind him, but before he could catch the witch a jerk of her wrist sent Lani flying in the air.
The dragon reared up to seize the psychic carefully in an enormous claw, accidently striking the brick wall to the right of him so that it crumbled from his weight.

Deacon hissed in pain, struggling to keep a hold on the fragile human that wouldn’t break her in two. He shifted on unsteady reptilian claws, weaving between the erupting floorboards until he landed on his side and released her to safety.
“Goooo!” He called out absently, and the noise that issued from the dragon’s throat was a mix between a rumble and a hiss, a human voice echoing something from the center of the melody.

The shifter knew the bar owner well enough to trust she would get to safety. Lani was as resilient as she was mouthy, which allowed Deacon to refocus on the retreating Carlotta.
The female was surround by a magic so dark it nearly weakened the ancient dragon. The blackness oozed outward, wrapping itself around his form and clenching him tight about the neck.
But there was no time to surrender to that oppressive darkness. Carlotta threw out her hands and a blast so violent it knocked the dragon sideways manifested, revealing the exposed human female hiding there.
Deacon’s wide, blue eyes met those of his terrified mate, and suddenly, the darkness that had threatened to choke him caught hold of his throat again. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. His life flashed before his eyes.

But he could hear what the woman said. The warning that woke him from his living death and had his body trembling as the shift overtook him.
Clothing lost to the sheer size of his other form, Deacon took a step toward her a shaking, nude human man. He had one arm outstretched, his face drawn and pleading. “No!”

“No…” He whispered again, horrified as his gaze darted from the malicious eyes of the sorceress to the wide sea blue ones of his love. “Please…” He begged, desperately, moving slowly toward the pair while keeping his eyes on his mate.

Just before Carlotta Deacon inhaled sharply, holding it in as he did the one thing he could think of to save his wife. His life.
The stoic dragon loosed a sound from his throat; one that was as miserable as it was yielding. He let his lids slide closed, sinking down on one knee and bent his head down in reverence, whispering to Lillie before conceding to the witch.

“She may have me in body, but I am forever yours…”

And then to the witch.

“I am your slave, my queen.”