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The Hunter and the Templar	By : BurneHazard Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 6473 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Diablo III (3) and all content therein is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no money from writing it.

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            It was becoming harder to shut out the agony in the moans and muffled screams she heard. Every step she took taking her deeper into the crater, deeper into the hells, deeper along the towers, it was all she could hear. Every time she passed a giant chained too close to the path, her eyes went toward it. And every time it seemed the tortured creature felt it. The head would move either toward or away from her and they would groan at the flare of pain the movement caused.
            Pausing near the corner of one such path, she found herself gazing at one of the giants. The metal mask it wore was a halter driving twisted spikes of metal into its skull, the holes of its ears. It forced the large jaw open around a gag in the shape of a ball. The ball was a smoldering ember burning its mouth and what flesh was not twisted and pulled away by the barbed chains. The empty eye sockets were kept open by more spiked chains so she could see that the burned skin had grown to cover the bone inside the hollows.
            Just like the rest, it responded in some manner to her gaze. The great head rose and rolled over its shoulder and the hand pinned over it. Another groan of agony rose as it turned its gruesome face toward where she stood. Heart forgetting to beat, she watched in twisted fascination as it pulled against the chains tearing its flesh. It...nuzzled the stone she stood upon as a dog would nuzzle its master's hand.
            "The chains tear at their flesh. Hear their screams, such...sweet music,"(1) Cydaea said from wherever she was concealed.
            Killashandra only watched the giant add to its own torment as it strained to get closer to her. Something behind it moved and she saw a sight that made a chill run through her. The giant had wings. Or, it had once had wings. Now there were only the twisted, burnt stubs where they had been cut off, leaving them small and broken spikes like spidery limbs rather than arms. And when her gaze returned to its horrible face, she found herself wondering about what type of creatures they were.
            "You hear it as well, don't you, beautiful nephalem?" the demoness asked.
            Although she knew that she should move on and kill that bitch, she could not leave. The pitiful, pleading way that the creature strained toward her was clear enough. It was begging her for something. And that hunger inside unfolded as she began to understand it more. The giant was purposely hurting itself, it was giving its agony up to her. She felt it, tasted it.
            "Oh, my. You can feed from it as well? Naughty, naughty nephalem...what would your templar say?"
            "He would say to hold your tongue!"(*) Kormac snapped.
            Jerking away from the edge, the hunter spun to find he had caught up to her without her being aware of it. A moment of fear and apprehension caught her when she realized she had no clue how long he had been watching. Her eyes refused to look at him to see. She wanted...needed...hungered... It was a throbbing hollow inside. And he was so close.
            He caught her arm before she had started to walk away and held tight. Glowering, she made the mistake of glaring at him. The intense green of his eyes made her freeze and breath catch. Suddenly her mind was assaulted by both reality and fantasy involving him and what she would do to him. Hatred and rage were there, struggling against the dark desire and destroying her sense of reason.
            Kormac felt the tension in her arm even through her armor but he did not release her. He had come upon her staring at the giant, watched it respond to just her presence, heard what Cydaea was saying. And he saw what was happening in those crimson and gold eyes now. He was losing his friend--no, he was losing Killashandra. Whatever was wrong was destroying her piece by piece.
            "Let go of me, templar."
            "No. Tell me what is going on," he demanded. "I can barely see and hardly breathe, and you stride on unbowed! What are you made of?"(2)
            Growling, Killa twisted, jerking her arm free of his grasp with strength he had come to expect. But when she turned away, he grabbed her again. Anger rose as she turned back to glare at him. The fire in her eyes warned of the blow about to come.
            "I'm warning you, templar..."
            "You're destroying yourself, hunter! I barely see anything in your eyes but hate and rage. You're pushing yourself too hard!"
            The rage rose, boiling upward through her as her vision became tinted by red. Kormac grabbed her other arm and gave her a hard shake. It was enough of a surprise to make her snarl at him. Then--suddenly she was surrounded by Light. The shock of such beautiful warmth made her gasp as rage was forgotten. Her hands grabbed his arms in crushing grips as she arched. It hurt, burned, but felt so good that she clung to it.
            When it faded, she blinked harshly, again finding his face. It was his eyes that again caught her in a trap. There was something in his gaze that...made her insides clench tightly. Remembering to breathe, she licked her lips and swallowed hard. He was so close...she could taste him, smell him. For just that moment she remembered caring, remembered why she kept her distance, remembered why she had to hurt. She turned away, pushing with her hands rather than cling.
            "Let go of me, Kormac. We have a world to save."
            "I know. Which is why I'm not letting go this time."
            Confused, she turned her head toward him. All she saw was determination in his eyes along with pain. It was enough to make her frown and want to hear what he was clearly trying to say.
            "Nephalem are born of angel and demon," he finally said, gaze still locked upon hers. "Dark and Light, Good and Evil. But your path...being a demon hunter, you once told me that you are a living weapon of the Dark, the opposite of what the templar order fashioned me into. But..."
            Breaking off, he glanced to where the giant was still pressing its tortured head against the ledge, straining toward Killa. Although his mouth had been dry for hours, he still tried to moisten it to swallow.
            "Where is the Light to balance your darkness? What happened to the steel focus that made you...more than a weapon?"
            His words were coming far too close to the very things she had been fighting against. Looking away, she sighed. "I'm coming to the end of my hunt. It's expected."
            "Killa, you've helped me...time and time again. You've listened, you've advised, you've guided, you've saved my life innumerable times. You even forced me to open my eyes and look at the truth about my order and the corruption within. Why do you refuse to let me help you? After all you've done for me!"
            The knee that came up between his legs only struck his armor hard enough for him to feel the contact. It did not hurt, but it surprised him enough his grip loosened. She pulled away and stepped out of reach.
            "Because I will not ask you to do something that would extinguish the light I see in your eyes!" she snapped.
            Her words caught him by surprise and he had darted after her before he even realized he was again grabbing her arms. This time he was the one to jerk and spin her back around to face him.
            "What is it that you need that could possibly take the Light away from me?"
            His question brought a look to her eyes that he had thought he only imagined. Gold blazed against gray as he saw hunger, lust, need, darkness. But the darkness he saw in that split second was not evil. He felt it along with the sudden bolt of sensation that left him breathless. The hunter had already broken the eye contact and locked it back.
            "I exist to destroy evil, to kill demons, to save lives. I live and kill to ensure no one else suffers my fate."
            "And this means you are alone?"
            "Yes."
            "I will not accept that!" he shouted as he moved around in front of her. "I refuse to accept that! It is not the truth and you know it!"
            "I will not have anyone else hurt or die because I failed to protect them!"
            "I don't want you to protect me, hunter! I want to help you!" His hands tightened on her arms as he stepped closer so they were nearly nose to nose. "Eirena. Lyndon. Tyrael. Leah. Haedrig. Do you really think we're here on a whim? We chose to come, because you made it possible. All of us followed you because we believe in you, we see the ability to destroy evil within you. Real strength isn't about what you can do, it's about your ability to love and care and do what is necessary...regardless of the cost."
            Killa had gone still. Listening to every word he said, she felt herself falling deeper into that darkness. The stubborn man just would not let go. Pulling up all of her hatred, all of her rage, all of her darkness, she made one final effort to get him to turn away and leave her alone before she lost what little restraint she had left. Emotion filled her eyes in crimson fire as she looked into his eyes.
            Kormac stiffened, gasping at the demon he held onto, the hatred searing his soul. But he met glare for glare as light flashed within his eyes to transform them into sun-lit emeralds. It made something inside her crumble and she jerked away from him again, sending him stumbling backward with the force of her shove.
            "You think you can help, but you're wrong. Don't you get it yet? What I want..." she trailed off as her throat closed up and she found herself fighting with the overwhelming urge to just show him.
            "What do you want?" he asked gently.
            Her eyes closed tight as she took several deep breaths. Maybe, if she finally exposed that dark desire, the hunger, it would make him turn away. It would drive him off and leave her to finish her hunt in peace without distraction. So her head turned and she faced him as her hands slowly curled into fists, fingers shifting against her palms like coiled talons.
            "I want to hear you scream," she said and the gates broke as she lifted her gaze to burn his body with that dark hunger as she again heard his muffled cries and whimpers under her lash.
            "I want to see you writhe for me again, kneel before me," she panted as Kulle's vision of him returned to her eyes and almost made her forget what was real.
            "I want to taste your blood and your pain. I want to hear you beg me for more," she almost groaned as she could feel his bare flesh under the caress of her hand, stroking along his collarbones and falling down his chest.
            "I want to hear every gasping breath as I break your body...claim your soul. I want you to rise for every touch I give, every time I take you," she breathed as a vision of him beneath her, rising to meet her thrusts and filling her consumed her mind.
            "I want you to be mine. MINE! And no one else's!"
            She began to slowly stalk toward him. Power was unfolding even more intense than before as she finally admitted to everything she had fought against.
            "I want you, Kormac. I want to possess you. I want to own you. I want your pain and your pleasure. And I want to hear you cry my name at the height of pleasure as I rebuild you...again...and again..."
            Her hands found the solid shape of his jaw beneath his helm. Fingers curling, she pulled it up and off his head only to slide her fingers through the sweat-matted locks. So lost in the chaos of desire and hunger possessing her, she did not even realize their positions as she leaned in to just breathe his scent.
            "Is that what you need, Shandra?"
            The softness of his voice snapped her out of her chaos. Blinking, she was surprised to see that he was on one knee before her. Her gaze fell to the motion of his throat, following his Adams apple as he swallowed hard. For once she could sense his nervousness, his apprehension, and something far fainter that was almost spicy. Looking into his eyes, she saw a faint spark of fear, the deep concern, and the Light within him. But what she did not see was horror, aversion, or dismay. Her plan, it seemed, had backfired.
            Swallowing herself, she backed away, eyes falling. "It doesn't matter. It won't be long before we reach Azmo--"
            Fingers were against her lips. Bare fingers. And the warmth of his body was under her hand where it had fallen to his shoulder, an aura of Light she wanted to wrap herself in and never let go. She turned her head just enough to look at him past the hood. Determination strengthened his jaw as he sank back down to his knee and took the remaining gauntlet off.
            "Shandra..."
            Hearing such a gentle voice say her name that way made a shudder pass through her. The struggling resistance weakened further, trembling as it hung by a thread. Looking back to him, she found herself shaking her head. His eyes captured hers as he reached up to almost gently grip her hips and make sure she stayed put.
            "If this is the sacrifice you require of me...then...take what is being offered. Take it...and help us. All of us."
            "I am not Maghda."
            "And I am not Jondar."
            "No. You're not."
            A part of her was still hesitating, still resisting. Kormac finally swallowed his pride and moved to rise. Her eyes flickered with brief hope he would stop his current madness. Instead, he kissed her. The last thread snapped and she felt the dark hunger ignite her body as her arms rose to snake about his shoulders, pulling him closer as their lips parted and tongues fought. For a man sworn to chastity, he knew how to steal her breath away.
            Unconsciously, she curled her fingers around the back of his neck. When they pressed against the bite from the succubus, Kormac made a sound into their kiss that made her thighs tremble as the wetness their spread further through the cloth undergarment she wore. Breaking back, her gaze fell to the bite mark and flared. Withdrawing, she glared at him.
            "Heal that before I remove it myself."
            Whirling away, she stormed down the path before her, shadows shifting and rippling in her wake. At an utter loss of thought and breath, the templar obeyed her immediately before regaining enough presence of mind to follow her--after he retrieved his helm and armaments. Still apprehensive and entirely lost, he could not deny that he had not expected...such a kiss. And now that he had faced the truth, he found his heartbeat racing with the thought of what would follow.

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Author's Note:
            The (*) is used in reference to a line said in the game, but I paraphrased, altering it a bit to fit the dialogue for this chapter.
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The Hunter and the Templar