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The Call of the Dark	By : Brandon Category: Kingdom Hearts > General Views: 22330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
When she first opened her eyes, the brunette had to squint. The room she woke up in was painted white and the harsh lights from above did nothing to take away from its glare. She tried to turn and look around, but the metal restraints on her hands and feet kept her from moving too much and kept her bare body pressed against the cooled table. The table itself was angled up enough that she could see the room in front of her, though the myriad of devices that looked designed to hurt made her shudder in fright. She swallowed, taking stock of the fact that she’d been kidnapped, beaten, stripped and was awaiting whatever nasty things her captors cooked up and it was then that Selphie came to a conclusion. When she got free, someone was going to die very painfully.

It was a monumental task, but Selphie forced down the rising fear threatening to overwhelm her.   She could only think of a few things that would require her to be in this room and in this state, and none of them ended well for her. Panic would not get her anywhere and if she wanted to bank on the overconfidence she expected from her captors, just like the ones sent to get her, she needed to be focused.

Yeah, like it’s going to be that easy, she thought sardonically, wondering how she’d keep her mind off her plight. Nothing around the room was designed to make her feel comfortable, and when she tried to focus on the ceiling, she couldn’t keep herself from feeling the cold metal on her skin that would not warm up. She shivered in the room, her nipples painfully hard because of the cold.

The worst part was the waiting. It was letting her imagination run wild, thinking of what was to come. The panic threatened to rise in her once again and she struggled to get free, succeeding only in cutting her wrists on the unforgiving metal cuffs, the blood tickling as it ran down in small rivulets. Think, Selphie. Think. Unfortunately, that was the most she could do.

After what felt like eons, the door to the room creaked open, and a small figure stepped into the room.   Selphie could tell it was female from how tightly the black cloak she wore was wrapped around her slender figure. The hood of the cloak was pulled up and sat low over the face so all Selphie could see was the smirk that adorned her ruby-red lips. Selphie quelled the fear and anticipation that filled her as the figure sauntered up close, but the angle kept Selphie from seeing under the hood.

“Oh good,” Selphie said, trying to hide the terror inside, “I was getting kind of bored. I was hoping to stretch my legs and see this wonderful facility. Are you my tour guide?” The cloaked figure didn’t respond, and Selphie sighed, staring up at the ceiling. So she was very shocked when her captor kissed her on the lips, the cloak the only thing in her vision.

She tried to shove her captor’s head back with her own, but she had no leverage. She tried to bite her, but the girl pulled back, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Selphie growled. “Try that again and I’ll rip your lips off.”

   The woman shrugged and sauntered up to her, leaning down and running her fingers along Selphie’s skin. Selphie cringed back, doing her best to avoid her touch. She couldn’t escape and when the restraints dug in, she had to stop inching away, allowing her captor to brush her fingers wherever she chose.   Selphie grit her teeth. She longed to tear the woman’s arm off and beat her with it, but she was helpless, which made the feeling that much worse. Selphie rarely found herself without any option.

   The fingers danced with teasing precision, causing goosebumps to rise where the cold tips touched her flesh. Selphie wondered if they’d been dipped in ice, cringing away as little as she could.   Her tormentor ignored her discomfort, racing them along the skin, touching every inch she chose to along her arms, legs and stomach. She tried to caress Selphie’s cheek and had to pull back as Selphie tried to bite her again. That earned her a smack across the face and she tasted blood.

   The girl lifted one finger, shaking it back and forth at her. She wouldn’t say anything, driving Selphie nuts. The silent treatment was unnerving. It’s got to be some sort of tactic. Don’t let her see it get to you.   She bit her tongue, drawing more blood but also bringing her back into focus.

   The unknown woman’s breath came hot against Selphie’s bare skin as she leaned down, her face inches from Selphie’s chest. Her lips brushed gently against her breast, a soft kiss against the heaving flesh and anger flashed in Selphie’s mind. How dare she touch me there? She stared up at the ceiling, the only plan she had to keep herself from going mad, while trying to plan the torment she was going to inflict on this woman. Anything to keep her mind off the sensations her captor was trying to produce.

   She felt the woman’s soft hands creep up along her stomach, gentle brushes from the fingertips as she brought them up to Selphie’s chest. She cupped the breast with a tender touch, caressing the flesh like a mother would to soothe a crying baby. Selphie shut her eyes, trying to find something to take her away from the horrible place she was in, to escape from the reality she was facing. So far, it wasn’t very successful.

   The woman’s tongue dipped out, wrapping itself around her nipple with practiced ease as it worked her sensitive nub to a fever pitch. Selphie’s eyes shot open, unable to ignore that, and she gave a cry as the feeling raced through her. “You...bitch...” she said, clenching her fists in meaningless defiance. The woman paused, as if contemplating something, then she resumed her ministrations to Selphie’s breasts.

   From there, her lips traveled lower, moving to her navel and the sensitive skin of her mound. “Please...don’t go there,” Selphie said, her bravado failing at the prospect of what was to come. Her captor buried her face in Selphie’s untrimmed bush, nipping at the sensitive flesh beneath the curls of brown down there and her body heaved as she tried one last desperate attempt to escape what was bound to happen. There was another swat on the outside of her thigh, soft but firm enough to keep Selphie’s attention. It was like the woman was training an animal, rather than tormenting another human being.

   Her fingers came up, spreading Selphie’s pussy lips as far as she could. Humiliation burned through Selphie as her most sensitive and secret area was exposed so obscenely. “You...you better stop or when I get out I’ll...ah!” She cried out as the cloaked woman licked at her pussy, the foreign sensations rippling through her. Her cry seemed to spur on the woman as she continued to dive her tongue in and out. Selphie dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to find something else to focus on than the lewd and disturbing feeling this caused.

   Unfortunately, her body was reacting to the stimulus and her ass rose up off the table and closer to the invading tongue. Gloved hands gripped her ass as she did, holding her up to give easier access. Selphie felt like she was merely a doll for this woman to manipulate, and her captor was certainly good about getting what she wanted. Selphie could feel her body’s betrayal as the orgasm built within her, the obscene feeling washing over until she came. She shuddered as she lay back on the metal table, but her foe was not done with her yet and leaned down, going at her again. “Oh no! Stop!”

   It was an unstoppable wave once it got started, and Selphie tried to ride it out, but each time she thought she’d regained control, her captor would touch her in just the right way to push her further along, and each time she climaxed, she felt more and more exhausted. She remembered a little tidbit from the first time she’d tried to work all night before a training session with her weapon master back on the islands. “A tired mind is a weak mind,” he’d scolded her. “And a tired body is a weak body. Your enemy can take advantage of either and you’ll be helpless to stop it.” Selphie felt herself panic, wondering just how she’d do anything now to prevent it.

   As if someone heard her fear, there was a loud metallic clank as the restraints on her limbs snapped open. There was a fearful gasp from her captor and enough hesitation that Selphie managed to kick her away. Grabbing the head of the table for leverage, she forced the hooded girl back with her foot, then twisted off the table. She had to find a weapon and escape quickly, before her captor signaled the others she’d fought before. She couldn’t take them all on, especially in her current state.

   There was a tray of sharp implements on her right side and she grabbed a handful, tossing them at the cloaked woman. Most didn’t even hit blade-side, and the woman dodged out of the way of them, just in case, but Selphie was only trying to distract her as she searched for something she actually had any chance of using well. She spotted a small chain that Selphie guessed was used for beating helpless people. She passed up a couple of whips in doing so, knowing she was not as good with a whip as with nunchaku, and she preferred the heavier feel in her hands. She leapt forward, swinging the chain as it passed less than a foot over the cloaked woman’s head and slammed into the wall, leaving a crack.

   The cloaked woman moved fluidly, dodging two more swipes with the chain as Selphie tried to knock her out. Her captor grabbed a branding iron after her last dodge, holding it like a sword and parried a third swipe barely. Selphie hissed, still trying to press any kind of advantage she had before she collapsed. The clang of the metal on metal was the only sound in the room besides their heavy breathing.

   Her captor was fast, but Selphie kept pressing, trying to get past the woman’s defenses. Selphie swiped with the chain over and over again, meeting the branding iron, then missing the woman’s side and slamming the table she’d been laying on. The third caught the woman in the side, and she gasped in pain, backing up to put the table between them. Selphie didn’t let her hide, jumping up onto the table and leaping off to attack again. The woman rolled away but as she came back up, Selphie tried to take her head off, whipping the chain as hard as she could. The woman tried to duck and managed to get under the chain, but the chain caught the hood, ripping it back as she dropped the iron to the floor. She gagged as the cloak pulled back against her neck and Selphie could see her red hair as she fell down to her knees, gasping for air. She couldn’t see her face though as her back was to her.

   “Alright, you’re going to tell me how to get out of here, and maybe you’ll still be breathing when I’m done.” She stood over the girl, ready to swing the chain if she tried to grab for the iron again. Selphie was sure she had things back under her control and that everything was going to work out in her favor. Until the girl looked up and she was staring into her best friend’s blue eyes. "Kairi...?" she said, unable to comprehend the idea of it, much less that it had been her best friend raping her. “What have they done to you?”

   Kairi grinned, a disturbingly evil look that did not fit the face of her friend, and she took the moment Selphie gave her to recover. She grabbed the iron, swiping at Selphie, and Selphie was forced to jump back in shock. Kairi pressed her, and Selphie deflected the blows, but she didn’t attack back, not wanting to hurt her friend. Someone had to have brainwashed Kairi, and Selphie wanted to free her without breaking an arm. She needed an opening to knock her friend out so she could get them both out of this hellhole.

   Unfortunately, Kairi did not share the same desire, fighting back with all her might and soon it was all Selphie could do to keep her friend at bay. There was a maniacal gleam in those blue eyes, a look that scared Selphie to death. She had to find a way to free Kairi again. She wouldn’t believe her friend was gone forever.

   Kairi picked up a second branding iron, wielding them both, and she began to get through Selphie’s defenses. A blow to the arm, then one to her stomach, and Selphie was reeling. “Kairi. Stop. It’s me, Selphie.” If Kairi understood, she paid Selphie no heed, attacking without stopping. Selphie knew if she didn’t fight back, she was going to lose. It was only a matter of time.

   She parried, then swung at Kairi, only to have it deflected. She swung the chain again, but Kairi ducked under it, slamming the branding iron into Selphie’s hand causing her to drop the chain. Kairi then brought the other iron up, striking her twice in the chest. Selphie stumbled back and Kairi bowled her over. Selphie cracked her head on the table, dazed, and tried to crawl away until the stars cleared.

   Kairi leapt on top of her, knocking them both to the floor. Selphie tried to push herself up, but Kairi pressed down, keeping her from getting up. She felt metal pressing against her throat, the metal chain she dropped pulled against her neck as Kairi lifted up. Selphie gagged, both hands going to the chain to try and breathe but Kairi yanked the chain tight so she couldn’t get a hand underneath between the metal and her neck. Selphie tugged, trying to pull it off.

   “Oh no you don’t,” Kairi purred, the first thing she’d spoken to Selphie since she’d arrived. “The time for games is over. Time to take a nap.” She yanked harder, tightening the chain, and Selphie whimpered, struggling to breathe. She couldn’t give in, especially not when she feared ending up just like her friend. Kairi simply pulled the chain again and Selphie saw spots. She tried to force Kairi up and off her, but Kairi had the leverage. Her lungs burned and her vision faded. She tried to cry out to Kairi to stop, but all she got out was a croak. Eventually her vision faded to black as she slipped into darkness.

*******

   Loshul watched the show from the command center, smiling as the girl from Kairi’s past fell. He was more impressed with the princess than he initially thought. The girl was resourceful, and even though she still needed to recover better from unforseen circumstances, Loshul was beginning to believe that the girl would end up being very useful against her former friends, and not just for her body. She’d even turned around the situation when he’d unlocked the restraints. If only he could learn where that Keyblade had gone. Unfortunately, it had vanished from his collection.

   He supposed it didn’t matter. With or without it, as long as she was under his control, she was a danger to Sora and Riku. Both boys were foolishly in love with her, and if they didn’t know she was working against them, she could seduce them and kill them when they were most vulnerable. And once the Keyblade masters were gone, Xenia would have her revenge. It was a delicious thought. Even with the hiccups going on, the plan would still work.

   He flicked on the comm. button to the torture room. “Good work, little princess. Take her to the dungeons. I’m sure the Heartless have much to teach her.”

   “No,” Kairi retorted. “I’ll handle her myself.”

   Loshul blinked, a little disturbed that Kairi was still not following all of his orders. “I don’t think that’s wise. Even if you’ve handled her so far, she is from your past. I don’t want her clouding your mind.”

   Kairi shook her head. “I can do this. Don’t you worry, master. I’ll break her for you.”

   Loshul frowned, not pleased with this little development. His goal with Kairi had been to make her subservient, to take any order given her. The fact that she was ignoring his orders and choosing to follow her independent thoughts, however helpful that thought might be, was the sign that everything they’d put her through was not taking hold. He was about to argue with her more when a beep drew his attention. It was from his secret line and he drew in a sharp breath. Xenia was calling in. He turned back to the monitor. “Fine. Take her there for now, but I will be sending someone to take her from you. And then we will deal with this later.” And he flicked off the comm. button, then turned on his secret line on speaker. “Loshul here.”

   “I know it’s you. No one else answers your private line. Don’t be stupid.”

   Loshul’s face burned, but he knew better than to argue. Xenia was the only one in the Company he truly feared. “How can I help you? Calling for a status report on the princess?”

   “Reports are a waste of time. You have the princess and her Nobody in your possession already. If you can’t handle them on your own, then I chose the wrong person to lead in my absence.”

   Loshul grit his teeth. He’d had enough setbacks to worry about without her questioning him now. “If you don’t like the fact that I’ve run your plan as well as I could, given the problems that cropped up, then feel free to remove me. Otherwise, tell me what you want.”

   Xenia chuckled. “That’s more like it. I didn’t choose you to lead because you were a groveling dog.” She sighed, the frustration in her voice audible over the line. “We’ve lost more of our family than I’d hoped. James was no loss, but the others were good people. More lives to lay at the King’s door.” Loshul tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting to figure out where this was going. Xenia rarely waxed nostalgic. “However, I can see your handiwork on my own when I arrive there soon.”

   This was a surprise, though Loshul hid it in his voice. Xenia never returned to the compound. She had her own plans to work, plans that involved the stranded Keyblade wielders. She was looking for an artifact that would control both for their side.   “You honor me with your presence. Does this mean you found what you were looking for?”

   “Part of it, but I need to brief you on the next stage. And I have some information you might find interesting as well.”

   “And what is that?”

   “Not something I choose to give like this. No. I must meet in person with you. I will see you soon.” And that was the end of the conversation. She just hung up without any other pleasantries or information. Loshul shouldn’t have been surprised. Xenia was all business ever since she’d kidnapped Kairi.

   Loshul stood, pacing. He wished he’d mentioned his worries over how she was acting, but Xenia always made him feel nervous talking to her, whether she praised him or not. But he was beginning to wonder about her. Xenia had never mentioned another stage. It had always been about subverting the princess, controlling her male friends, and destroying the King and his castle. Changes to the plan were unsettling to him, especially dropped in out of the blue. And Xenia’s being very secretive about it didn’t help. It was like she didn’t trust him.

   For the first time, he was starting to wonder if Syrus was on to something with his worries. Battle was always fluid, ever changing, and he felt he’d done well to adapt to the kinks in the plan. But the problems with the cameras, Kairi not fully taking to the Heartless like she should have, and now Xenia altering their path were all unsettling him. He felt the need to talk with Syrus now. He stopped pacing, and went to the intercom. Someone beat him to it. “Loshul, come in!”

   Loshul had never heard Praxis this panicked before. He stabbed the button, worry creeping up his neck. “I’m here.”

   “I need you down here now, dammit! Damian’s...” The line crackled, and then went dead.

   Loshul tried to punch up the medical bay cameras, but got nothing but static. The feeling of their plans unraveling slipped back into his mind and he raced out the door and down the white halls, fighting back the panic with a fervor. He was not a fool to believe that this was anything other than another domino falling in his ears. But he couldn’t imagine what this had to do with Damian. The boy might be smart, but his power was based on belief. His illusions couldn’t hurt if you knew it wasn’t real.

   As he rounded a corner into the last hall leading to the medical bay, his lungs burning with the pain of running so far without stopping, he was knocked off his feet as the door burst out, slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch, cracks running up the wall. Loshul picked himself off the floor, unsure of what he was facing now. He crept up to the damaged entryway, peering in, and he was at a loss to understand what he was seeing.

   Several beds had been tossed about in the infirmary, all away from the central point where Damian stood, though they were tossed away from the bed where Veruca lay unconscious. Praxis and Syrus were trapped behind one of them, unable to get out the door. And it was all because of what Damian was doing. He was floating about a foot off the ground, and his whole body was surrounded by shadows that faded in and out around his body, swirling around him like satellites. Damian’s eyes were rolled back in his head, and he seemed to be screaming soundlessly. His fists were clenched so tight that blood dripped from them. At random, or whenever Praxis tried to make a move, a streak of pure darkness would fire out from Damian like a bolt of lightning, scarring the tables or striking a smaller object and sending it hurtling around. Add to it all the fact that a howling wind was also wrapping around him, and Loshul had no idea how to handle this. Where the hell did this come from? It’s not one of his illusions.

   “You two okay?” he yelled over the roar of the wind, ducking back to avoid a blast of darkness that took a chunk out of the wall. He glanced back to see them nod.

   “We called Quinn. I just hope he can work.” Syrus ducked back to avoid taking a shot between the eyes. “I just don’t know how much longer the medical bay will hold up.”

   Loshul wasn’t fully certain Damian had any control over himself. “Stay put! I’ll draw him out and away from here. You tend to Veruca!” He dodged back, then stepped out in front of Damian. “Damian! Over here!” He hoped Damian would actually follow him out into the hall. He did not want to start throwing fire around inside the infirmary. Damian didn’t come at first, simply content to throw shadow bolts at Loshul that kept him ducking back as he tried to goad the boy out. It wasn’t until Loshul drew his sword and surrounded it in flames that Damian finally took an interest in him. Loshul backed out into the hall, trying to draw the boy along so he would chase him to an area where Loshul could fight. It might have worked well, even, until Norian came racing around the corner, Freya hot on her heels. “Norian! Look out!”

   Norian gave him a snide look, as though this shouldn’t be a problem, until a tendril of shadow wrapped around her and threw her as hard as it could into the wall. Freya ducked under a second and Loshul attacked, slicing into the shadows quickly before backing off. There was such an inhuman shriek filling the hall that Loshul fought to keep from throwing his hands over his ears. Freya was tending to Norian, who was dazed but not down, and Loshul needed to get Damian away from them. Damian’s attention was thankfully on him after the attack, but was also getting more aggressive. Loshul was driven backwards down the hall, slashing as best he could while avoiding the tendrils he missed. Despite the screams that made his ears feel like they were going to bleed, he couldn’t tell if he was actually hurting him.

   The tendrils shot faster and faster, and Loshul was about ready to run off, hoping Damian would give chase, when one slammed into his hand, sending the sword skittering along the floor. Before Loshul could react, he’d been hit square in the chest twice and then in the throat, causing him to gag as he tried to draw in air. A blow to the right side of his head was all it took before he was lying on the floor, his vision fading in and out. Damian moved toward him and Loshul pushed to his knees, desperate to fight back.

   “Damian! Stop!”

   At first, Loshul couldn’t place the voice, even when the woman put herself between him and Damian. It took him a second to realize who it was. Maya? Damian hesitated, no longer advancing, the tendrils twitching as though unsure whether to attack or not. Finally one lashed out at her. Maya held her ground, not flinching from the tendril as it passed right in front of her face, but never landed the blow. Damian seemed to be holding back, not wanting to hurt her. Loshul couldn’t make sense of it. I could understand not attacking Ameys, but Maya? Those two have never been more than cordial.

   Loshul however was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, taking the time to push himself to his feet. “We need to end this now,” he whispered to Maya.

   “Yeah, and you’ve done such a good job of it so far,” she hissed back. “Leave this to me.” And she stepped forward, arms wide, her dark blue eyes never leaving Damian’s whitened ones. “Damian, you need to stop. Let this power go.”

   Damian shook his head, and there was a high, keening sound, sad and pitiful. He was trying to say something, but the words never reached Loshul’s ears. Maya shook her head. “I don’t understand, childling. You must let go so we can figure this out.”

   Loshul waited, hoping Maya would end this on her own, but he edged backward just in case.   He wanted his sword and felt better with it in hand. If things went sour, he wanted to be able to step in and protect Maya from harm.

   As his hand closed around the hilt, a roar filled the room. Loshul looked up in time to see Maya slammed out of Damian’s way as he flew toward him, an eerie howl following him. His face was contorted with rage, and dark shadows were crawling over it. Loshul raised his sword, ready to fight to the end if needs be to keep the others from harm. A tendril shot out, but it faded just before it reached his sword. The shadows vanished and Loshul had to drop his sword to avoid skewering Damian before the boy crashed into him. He held on as best he could as they both went down in a heap. Loshul only had to look down the hall at Quinn to understand what had happened. The old man had nulled the hall. Loshul couldn’t even use his fire. He was just glad the old man hadn’t cut it any closer.

   Maya limped over, looking like she’d landed awkwardly and bent down over Damian as Syrus and Praxis emerged from the medical bay. He let Maya soothe the boy’s brow as she brushed his green hair out of his face. “How’s Veruca?”

   “Unhurt. Damian never sent anything her way.” Syrus said. His glasses hung askew, but he seemed to be okay otherwise, which took a weight off Loshul’s chest.

   “Praxis, any idea what set this off?”

   Praxis shook his head. “It burst up suddenly and out of nowhere. No idea how he even did it. It’s not in his ability that I’ve ever seen.”

   Damian moaned, squirming, and a single pained word escaped his lips. “Celine...” And then Damian fell back unconscious.

   Loshul’s eyes widened. He looked up at Syrus. He hadn’t heard of Celine getting injured, and with the way those two were connected... Syrus knew what Loshul wanted before he voiced it. “I’ll see if I can track her down.”

   Loshul let Maya cradle Damian, picking himself off the floor and sheathing his sword as he checked on the others. Norian was bleeding from her scalp, but she insisted she didn’t need his help. “It’s just a small cut.” she said with anger in her voice as she waved him away. Freya hadn’t been hurt either, thankfully, and she said she’d make sure Norian was alright as she led her back to her room.

   Loshul went back into the infirmary, helping Praxis put everything back together as best they could. Praxis used his magic to bend the metal of the broken tables back into place while Maya took the first bed Loshul set back up to lay Damian back in, staying close. Loshul reminded himself to find out just how close those two really were.

   The harsh beep of the intercom cut through the silent work and Loshul hurried over. To no surprise, it was Syrus. “Loshul, we may have a problem.”

   “What? Is Celine hurt?”

   “I have no idea. I’m not seeing her on the monitors. She’s not in her room according to Bastian. The last time anyone saw her apparently was when she dropped the princess off to you.”

   Loshul cursed, the same feeling of dread coming over him that he’d felt earlier. “Alright, I want an alarm raised and anything suspicious is to be reported immediately. Tell Kerowyn I want a count of everyone to make sure no one else is gone, and I want her found. Now!” He released the button, sweat starting to come. He might not have a true heart, but he knew how to be angry without one. Someone was messing with his plan and he needed to find out who, and he needed to know before Xenia arrived.
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The Call of the Dark