Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction / Utawarerumono Fan Fiction ❯ No Turning Back ❯ Chapter 1: Monsters in the Dark ( Chapter 5 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: RangerShade 
What you can't see can kill you.
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction / Utawarerumono Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Fantasy / Post-apocalyptic / Sci-fi | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.14.2008 | Pages: 14 | Words: 6.8K | Visits: 3.2K | Status: Work In Progress
What you can't see can kill you.
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction / Utawarerumono Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Fantasy / Post-apocalyptic / Sci-fi | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.14.2008 | Pages: 14 | Words: 6.8K | Visits: 3.2K | Status: Work In Progress
No Turning Back
A Pokewomen Universe Story
by Shade
Porn with Plot Warning.
Copyrighted character use warning.
Ignoring what a lot of other people wrote warning.
Warning about warning warning warning.
"None but a coward dares to boast that he has never known fear."
-Ferdinand Foch
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Chapter 1: Monsters in the Dark
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He drifted in nothingness.
There was no color, no shape, not even a sense of self.
Only a vague awareness of a point that differentiated here from elsewhere.
Time meant nothing. Past and Future were concepts without meaning. It was always Now.
He was content.
This was peace. True peace.
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A faintly glowing green light began to flash yellow.
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There was a disturbance in the emptiness of the ever-present now.
The Void was retreating. The Wheel of Time was turning again.
Unwanted sensation began to percolate back into the fluttering butterfly of awareness.
He was himself.
He was alive.
He couldn't breathe.
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More lights began flash on the panel. Although there were fewer of them there should
have been as many of them on the dusty panel appeared to have burned out.
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He couldn't breathe!
His limbs flailed around as the brain sought for oxygen.
His arms struck something solid. He could feel the vibrations from the impact.
He couldn't breathe!!
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The capsule rocked.
More lights began to flash.
And then a muffled thump as bolts slid free and the sound of a large quantity
of liquid splashing onto the floor.
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He hit the floor hard, vomiting liquid from his lungs.
It tasted like stale blood.
Desperately he inhaled the dusty dry air, coughing and choking.
It was dark here. Even with his eyes now open, there was only blackness.
Where was he?
The last thing he remembered was....nothing?
On trembling legs he stood up. He turned around. There was less darkness
over to his right...but even as he started to step forward it faded back
into the rest of the gloom.
He was alone in the darkness. All alone.
He shivered and realized he was naked.
Where was he? Where were the others?
One of his shins banged into something hard and he cried out at the unexpected pain.
The darkness seemed to swallow up his cry without a trace.
His hands reached out, feeling like a blind man for something to anchor his position.
Nothing.
Just empty space before his fingers.
He didn't like it here. He had to get out. He needed light.
He needed to know that he wasn't alone. Where were the people?
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She purified herself under the cold clear water of the waterfall.
Her silky white wings stretched out, the long soft feathers sleek and unmarred.
It was going to be another glorious day.
As she left her morning ablution, she dried herself with a plain cotton towel.
She dressed herself in a robe of white and pale green, the material coming tight
over her generous bust as she finished tying the green and gold sash around her waist.
Her long hair was the color of warm sunshine and fell naturally down her back without
the need for pins or braids. Aside from the elegant wire bracers on her forearms,
the only ornamentation she wore was a small thin circlet of gold that showed
over her forehead rather then resting on top of her hair. Her face was elegant but kind,
with warm sky blue eyes. In another age, composers would have written songs about her
beauty, kings and princes would have sailed half the world to claim her for their own,
but here and now she was only the Priestess of the Forbidden Grounds.
"Urutori-sama."
Kneeling on the floor was a stoic young woman dressed in plain brown and grey cloth
that was cut high on the thigh to give her long legs freedom of movement. Her hair
was long and fine, the color of pure smoke ascending to the heavens. At her side
was a long sheathed blade in a scabbard of dull black. Her eyes were closed, but
even so that did not seem to hinder her vision.
"Good morning, Shiryu. I've told you before not to kneel."
"As you say, Urutori-sama."
Urutori noted that despite this acknowledgment, her informal protector still didn't rise.
"Tea?"
"Thank you, no."
The winged priestess sighed good-naturedly. Shiryu meant well, but the Ryutoshi
line had always prized efficiency over social interaction. It made them unrivaled
combatants, but rather lacking when it came to light conversation.
"The Rites of Remembrance are to be held today. I may be late returning to the shrine."
Her silent companion remained so.
"Ah, you don't need to shadow me. You know it will take you twice as long to get there."
Still no reply.
"Suit yourself."
Urutori quickly packed what she would need and carefully strapped the satchel on her back
between her wings where the weight would not disrupt her flight balance. When she turned
around again, the floor was already empty.
"So stubborn."
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The first hints of thirst began to quietly claw at his throat.
He was crawling on the ground like a toddler now. At some point he'd
tripped over something with an edge and lacerated his left leg just
under the kneecap.
It was humiliating.
He could feel the stickiness of his own blood slowly running down to the floor.
He had to get out of here.
It felt as if the darkness was pressing in on him like a great stone
balanced on his head.
There had to be a way out.
"help."
The word felt clumsy and unnatural in his mouth.
"Help."
Less of a croak, but still barely understandable even to his own ears.
"Help!"
At last, the sound of his own voice was there with him and for a moment
he could almost convince himself that he was alive and not alone.
But only for a moment.
The silence seemed to roll back into the gap his sounds had made in it
like high tide coming in.
And then his questing hands found a gap in the wall. There was darkness there too,
but a different shade from the one he had found in the rest of the room.
It didn't matter, he had to get out of there. He had to survive!
Stumbling to his knees, his injured leg trembling slightly from the raw throbbing
pulses of hot pain coming from his wound, he lurched forward into the unknown.
The Voices were waiting for him.
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It was a most enjoyable flight. The thermals were very stable today, allowing her
to conserve a great deal of energy by using them to glide towards her destination
with only minimal movements of her wings to keep her on course.
Urutori watched the ancient forest below her flight path. The peaceful natural
scenery of the green growing things always soothed her soul even in the darkest times.
But she also kept a watchful eye for any movement or shapes that should not be there.
There had not been any sightings of Dark Evolutions in this area for many years,
but the priestess had lived among these woods for most of her life. She knew
better then to trust the picture of calm below.
The winged Pokewoman might prefer to avoid needless violence,
but that didn't mean she wasn't very good at it.
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He was going Mad.
'Blood. Delicious Warm Blood.'
'Kill! Kill the Manflesh!!'
'Devour it, Yesss. Juicy, Tasty...wiggly.'
They were in his head.
'Eat you. Eat you. EAT YOU!!'
And then there was light. Faint, unearthly flickering pale white lights all around him.
He could see. And suddenly wished that he couldn't.
The mummified face of what had once been Linda McKenzie stared down at him.
'We see you!'
He screamed.
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There it was up ahead.
Typhonna's Scar.
Even from a distance the change in terrain was startling. The line of trees ended
abruptly about a hundred meters from a wide dirty brown ravine of fused rock and sand.
Nothing taller then scrub grass and an occasional thin bush grew here. Time and the
elements had changed much of the area, but this wound to the land had not healed.
Perhaps it never would.
Urutori slowly began to circle as she descended. Landing was always the most vulnerable
time for fliers. The white stone shrines that marked the Boundary were easily visible,
they stood out from their surroundings like a shining beacon.
As she touched down, the wind seemed to sing as it danced through
the winding sides of the gorge.
Urutori always wondered what her ancestors had seen here when they had come to perform
the Rites in their times. The Forbidden Grounds had always been there, none of those
who lived in the Deep Woods remembered a time when it was not so.
She approached the largest of the shrines. The rocks were well worn and pitted where
water had ground away at it a droplet at a time. Moss grew thickly on them where
the shade was thickest. The priestess would not have traded any of it for a temple of finest gold.
She took off her pack and stepped foward with slow reverence.
"The Sleeper Sleeps but Does Not Dream,"
She sang like a nightingale.
"When the Sleeper Wakes, the True Dream Will Begin,"
Her clothes seemed to take on a life of their own
as Urutori began to move in time with the haunting melody.
"Watch for the Signs that will Mark the Heir,"
Light began to form in an aura around her moving body.
"Water's Servant, Air's Master, Fire's Bane, Earth's Despair,"
It trailed after her like an afterimage of all the colors of the rainbow.
"Free of True, Free of False, Let the Price be Paid in Full!"
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Bones.
There were bones everywhere.
The white skulls stared back at him with empty sockets.
He had to get out!
Terror gave him strength.
He was up and running, not even feeling his feet being
slashed to ribbons on razor sharp shards of bone.
He had to get away from here!
The Voices pursued him, digging deep into his mind, clinging
like fat spectral lampreys at his sanity.
Run! Run!!
He didn't know how long he ran or in what direction.
Everything was a blur of shadows within darker shadows.
There was only the Fear.
He stumbled over something and fell hard to the ground.
The sudden shock broke the spell. Pain flooded through
his body as adrenaline left his system, leaving him
gasping for air in short tight breaths.
The lights were gone.
He felt blindly for what it was that had tripped him.
It felt horribly familiar.
Something thin and papery crumbled away under his touch.
It was the ancient remains of a human arm.
He tried to thrust it away from him and yelped as something
hard and sharp stabbed him on the hip.
Without thinking he reached to pull it out and cried out
again as his fingers met an edge of metal.
A knife.
His brain seemed to be moving at the speed of jello.
Knife. Weapon. Tool.
His hands found the hilt clutched tightly in bony fingers.
Survive!
Without really knowing what he was doing, his fingers
pulled, trying to pry the blade from its former owner
grasp.
He had to survive!
There was a loud snap and the knife fell free in a shower
of brittle bone fragments.
He grabbed for it and clutched it tightly to his chest.
It was sticky with his own blood.
But at that moment, it was the only point of reality in his world.
He had the Knife. He would Live.
Light!?
There was light! Just the faintest speck...but it was there!
A way out....
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Water splashed onto the stone altar.
Clear and pure, it overflowed from the shallow depression
in the center and spilled onto the mossy stones below.
A handful of early summer flowers had been placed with care
just over the basin. Their yellow and orange petals made
a fitting offering in Urutori's opinion.
The Mother did not ask for much from her followers.
Just the play of light and water.
And a little faith.
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The climb towards the little speck of light was a hellish ordeal.
The skin of his palms was scraped raw from clinging to
uncertain handholds in the oppressive darkness as he
scrabbled for each inch upwards.
The thirst was growing worse. His tongue felt like it was
swelling up inside of his mouth. His lips were cracked
and bled slightly with each painful muffled grunt he made as
he pulled his aching body towards the glimmer above.
Only sheer willpower kept him from screaming
when his feet accidently banged against the
side of the shaft. If he had screamed then
he would have dropped the Knife.
The Knife was important.
It was proof that he was alive.
Inch by inch he clawed his way to the light,
to the promise of fresh air and freedom.
One handhold after another.
Higher and higher.
He slipped and nearly fell, only coming to a stop when
his desperately seeking fingers found a crevice that
held him long enough for his other hand to find a
more secure grip.
He could smell a difference in the air now. A faint breeze
brought the scent of grass to his nose. It only made him
long for the light even more.
There was no sense of time, only of distance.
Closer and closer to the growing window of light.
He could begin to make out texures as well as shapes now.
The shadows were shrinking into lighter shades of darkness.
And then his hand was held out and caught by the full illumination
and he could see it, really see it for the first time.
It was crusted with his dried blood.
He swayed as his head finally came up high enough into the light.
It was so bright!
His eyes were dazzled to the point of pain as he still struggled
to get the rest of his body out of the shaft. Tears ran down his
face as his vision fought to adjust to the change from the long
darkness.
He looked up and blinked away the tears.
The sun was shining over a field of waving green.
It was beautiful.
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The sweet smell of burning incense rose into the air.
"He comes."
The space was dark save for the tiny wisp of flame coming from the bronze brazier.
"The Destroyer."
"Where?"
The voice that spoke was cold and harsh like an axe left out in the winter night.
"From the Rising of the Sun."
"The East? There are only weaklings and fools there."
"Underestimate him and court destruction. The pebble will always precede the avalanche."
"Then he must die."
"Perhaps."
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He crawled under the warmth of the sun, leaving a small trail
of blood on the grass as he moved away from the oppressive
darkness behind him.
He needed water.
His ears had caught the faint sounds of a stream. He didn't know
how he had recognized it, but the thirst drove any other thoughts
from his mind.
The knife was clutched tightly in his wounded hand, while with the other
he dragged himself forward. His feet were a mess, he didn't dare try to
stand on them.
He could smell the water now.
Clean and fresh, it sang to him.
He tried to move faster.
So tantalizingly close....
And then suddenly he found himself slipping downwards, tumbling on loose stones
and gravel until at last with a wet sploosh, his head hit the water.
He coughed and choked as he pulled his dripping wet head free from the stream.
It was cold.
He plunged his mouth back in and started to drink greedily like an animal.
It tasted better then anything he could remember. He could have drunk an ocean of it.
As he raised his head again, he laughed for the first time.
He was alive!
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He awoke as the sun was starting to set.
He didn't remember closing his eyes. But his body felt better then it had earlier.
He risked a look at his feet and saw that the damage wasn't as bad as it had seemed.
The wounds were deep, but already scabbed over. He risked putting weight on one foot
and though it was still painful, it managed to support him.
He eased his feet into the stream, hissing slightly as the water softened the scabs.
Scrubbing as best he could with his hands, he washed his feet and hands clean of
the caked rust colored blood on them.
After he was done, he took another drink a little upstream.
But when he looked at his reflection in the mirror surface of the water
for the first time, he yelled out loud in shock and terror.
What had happened to his face?!
His hands flew up to his head.
They slowly traced the skin under his ears and came forward up to the tops
of his cheeks where they met the obstacle of the Mask. It was white and hard,
not like stone or metal, but almost like bone. It was smooth to the touch
and his fingers traced their way up to where two small protrusions came
out like miniature pointed horns on either side of the forehead.
Why was it on him?
He couldn't see his real face!
No matter how he wrenched and pulled the Mask would not come off. It was
as if it was actually a part of his face. It seemed to join seamlessly to
the skin, there was no gap in between for him to find.
At last he fell to the ground on his back, panting with exhaustion
from his fruitless efforts to free himself from the thing on his face.
Numb acceptance that he could not remove it gradually settled over
his initial panic and he slumped onto the grass.
His stomach gurgled unhappily.
He was hungry. There seemed to be a pit where his stomach should be,
a void that demanded to be filled and made images of foods he couldn't
remember the names of swim in his vision.
He couldn't think about anything else. The need for nourishment
was driving his system, all of his mental functions seemed
to suddenly be focused on getting something to eat.
When had he last eaten?
Like everything else, he could not remember.
He looked around.
There were stands of trees not too far away,
but he could see neither fruits nor nuts
on their branches. The grassy area offered
no other signs of life, not even a single
rabbit he would have happily made a meal of.
And then a flicker of movement out of the corner
of his eye made him turn back to the stream.
He saw the fat silhouettes swimming in the water.
Fish.
His mouth watered.
Food.
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The priestess made her camp by the shrines.
A small fire ringed with stones crackled merrily as a metal pot with four steel feet
bubbled delicious smells over it. Next to it wafts of fragrant steam arose from
the seeping herb tea.
Shiryu would probably arrive in time for dinner, she knew. While it would be nice
to have company, she wished that the other Pokewoman wouldn't push herself like that.
Very few things in this region would attack an Onkami once.
Natural selection ensured that they wouldn't do so twice.
Nevertheless, she had set alarm wards around the camp.
If anything unwanted did decide to show itself, she would have plenty of advance warning.
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He stared hungrily at the teasing shapes beneath the water.
There had to be a way to get them.
He could feel thaT the knowledge was there, but as soon as he concentrated on it,
the memories fled. The hunger wasn't helping either, all he could see was fish.
If he could only reach out and grab-
His arms blurred and stabbed through the water towards their target.
Surprised trout suddenly found themselves launched into the air
where they flopped helplessly onto the warm grass.
His jaw dropped.
How? He hadn't even been thinking, it had just been the desire for it.
He had not told his body what to do, his arms had just moved on their own.
Almost as if they had done this before.
As if he had done this before.
But he was too hungry to stop and question his good fortune. He went
for the desperately flopping fish and ended their struggles with the knife.
Then he stared at the bodies.
Fire. He needed fire to cook them. Dimly, he could recall that the flesh
of some fish could be eaten raw, but these were not the right kind for that.
He looked towards the woods.
Fire....
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It watched him from within the forest.
It saw him gather the abundant supply of dead wood from under the trees.
It tracked him back to the bad place where it did not dare to go.
Meals the size of this one were rare and required a bit more cunning then its usual fare.
But it was patient.
It only needed to strike him once.
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The delicious smell of roasting fish was making him drool.
He had used the knife to sharpen some sticks that he'd impaled through
the trouts' mouths. Then he'd found two Y-shaped branches that he had used
to set the sticks on and now watched with avid eyes as little drops of oil
dripped from the cooking fish.
The fire had been easy, almost too easy.
He had wanted the fire, but he had not thought about how to make the fire.
He'd looked at the fish as his hands moved on their own and took two sticks.
They had blurred again just like when they'd caught the fish and then there had been
a small flame. He had fed it with grass and small bits of wood until it was finally
big enough for real pieces of wood. Once it had burned down to coals he'd set up
the fish and now he was almost dancing with impatience to take them down and eat them.
At last the skin was crispy and coming off of the meat and he could wait no more.
He barely felt the heat as he pulled the nearest trout to his mouth and bit down.
Hot fish juices filled his mouth as he mashed the soft white flesh with his teeth.
He paused just long enough to gulp the first bite down before going back for another bite.
Food. Glorious food.
He ate as if that was his only purpose in life.
There were six fish. By the time he was though they were only heads, fins and bones.
He licked his fingers clean like a child. Fish grease was smeared all over his mouth.
Now that his most immediate needs had been finally satisfied, other concerns began to make themselves known.
He sniffed himself and quickly wrinkled his nose.
He stank of sweat, blood and other things. Most strongly of all was the stale smell
of the liquid that he had been in back in the darkness.
He didn't want to remember that. But the smell and the sticky feeling on his skin
kept reminding him of it. He wanted to wash it off.
But....
The stars were starting to come out overhead. He looked at the dark ribbon that was the stream.
It had been so cold when he'd drunk his fill earlier. With the sun gone, it surely would be
even colder now. He remembered the icy shock when his head had been dunked in there.
He shivered.
But there was another feeling as well. He did not want to go into the cold water.
Not just because it would feel cold, but because it *was* cold.
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In the end, his protesting nose won over the vague sense of dread.
Slowly, carefully he stepped out into the water, feeling his toes go
numb from the cold as he waded towards the middle of the stream.
Trying to finish quickly, he splashed himself and started to clean
himself as best he could with handfuls of grass balled up into a crude
kind of scrubber.
He could feel goosebumps forming all over.
And gradually another sensation began to form as he continued to rinse and scrub.
It was the weirdest feeling, as if his body was both expanding and shrinking at the same time.
He looked down at his chest.
It was a chest, but it wasn't his.
It was *hers*.
"AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
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Urutori's head came up.
That had almost sounded like the echo of a scream.
But that was impossible. Nobody lived in the Forbidden Grounds and no creature
could pass the stone markers of the boundary line. She knew that as she knew
that the sun would rise and set from east to west.
But if it had not been a scream, then what was that noise?
Shiryu had not arrived yet. Her protector would probably go to great lengths *not*
to point out how she shouldn't be investigating on her own. The Ryutoshi was very
good at *not* lecturing when she was upset with her charge.
Sometimes silence could be louder then shouting.
But she was the Priestess of this area. It was her responsibility.
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This had to be a dream.
Men didn't turn into women.
But her hands confirmed that, yes, those were breasts and yes,
they apparently did belong to him or as it were now, her.
She leaped out of the water as if it had suddenly turned to ice
and ran back to her fire.
There had to be a way to turn back!
She was a guy!
There was a sense of familiarity about that and for an instant
she could almost feel the shape of a memory on the tip of her tongue.
But then the moment passed and she was back to hopping naked and dripping
wet around the red glowing embers. Unable to think of anything better to do,
she threw more wood on the fire to build it back up to a steady blaze.
The crackling heat pushing back against her face calmed her down a little.
The warmth was a familiar thing. Another symbol of the life she couldn't recall.
But why had he became a she?
She tried to summon the knowledge from the fog and shadows in her brain,
but was rewarded only with a steady throbbing pain in the back of her head.
She clutched at the base of her skull, gasping and whimpering as she curled
up into a ball. It felt like all the pressure in her head would simply explode
out in a gory display of blood and brains.
"chi-chi."
She looked up at the sound.
Through watering eyes she saw what looked like a small figure at the very edge
of the forest. It looked back at her and she gasped as she realized it was
the face of a small girl.
The face vanished and the figure slid deeper into the woods.
"Wait!"
She called desperately after the retreating girl. It was the first person
had seen since waking up. The presence of another person meant that she wasn't alone.
Her head still throbbing, she started to stumble after the girl.
Almost without her noticing it, the Knife was in her hand.
She didn't understand why it was there, but as the darkness of the forest grew nearer,
she was glad for its presence. What had seemed so harmless when the sun was still up
had taken on a more ominous appearance with only the twinkling stars watching from above.
The figure led her deeper into the woods.
No matter how fast she tried to go, she just couldn't seem to close the distance.
At last, panting for breath, she came to a halt. She didn't know how far she'd gone in,
but she could no longer see the edge of the forest, there were only silent trees looming
in every direction.
She turned around and realized she didn't know which way she'd come from.
Everything looked the same. There was no sign of her passage.
She suddenly realized that she was lost.
But not alone.
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The night breeze was cool on her skin as she swooped through the sky.
Her eyes spotted a fire that wasn't hers in the night.
She came lower for a closer look and let out a gasp of shock.
It was inside of the Forbidden Grounds!
But...that was impossible!
The priestess scanned the ground frantically for the intruder.
Who would dare to violate the ancient taboo set down by the Legendary Verdandi herself?
And how had they gotten past the protections?
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"chi-chi."
Again came the sound and she turned towards it.
It was the half-hidden face of the little girl.
But something about it was....off.
She held up the knife, suddenly wishing she was back at the fire.
The way the figure moved was all wrong.
Slowly, it stepped into full view.
"Chi-Chi!"
She screamed.
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Urutori heard the scream.
The blonde Onkami pulled a sharp right and banked in the direction that the cry had come from.
Gone was the expression of an easy going priestess.
It had been replaced by grim features of a Pokewoman in full battle mode.
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The pale face of the little girl extended forward....and split into four triangular sections
from out of the middle. Rows of curved serrated teeth exposed themselves as the sections peeled
back to reveal a glistening horribly long sticky tongue that tasted the air like a snake.
Glowing yellow eyes the size of her hands eyed her hungrily from where they were suddenly revealed
above and behind the mask of the girl, along with the creature's true form. Camouflaged by the darkness,
the monster's black body was nearly invisible until the faint starlight shone on it directly through
gaps in the leaves above. It was like some bizzare cross between a reptile and an insect. Ridges and
scales competed with segemented insectile armoring that protected its limbs. The joints of its legs
were backwards, like some kind of giant grasshopper. Every foot seemed to end only in points.
"CHI-CHI!"
It screamed at her.
Something dark and viscous oozed from the largest fangs at the outer edges of the beast's petal style mouth.
Her mouth went dry.
It was beginning to move towards her.
She stepped back slowly, trying not to show her fear.
She could sense that if she panicked and ran, it would be all over her.
What was it?
She had never seen anything like it.
The fish, the trees, those were things she knew she had seen before.
She didn't remember when or where, but the knowledge was there,
the certainty that those things were real and normal.
This monstrosity...wasn't.
Her eyes just couldn't seem to accept the way it stalked towards her.
The way it moved was all wrong. The joints bent and her mind told her
that it was at all the wrong angles. She found that she couldn't move,
the obscenity of its motions seemed to hypnotize her.
One foot couldn't find its balance in time and she stumbled.
It lunged at her in a blur.
She swung the knife on pure reflex as she fell.
It caught on one of the petals of the mouth and stuck there like it had been glued on,
ripping the hilt out of her unprepared hand, taking some of the skin of her palm with it.
Pain seared down her shoulder.
She clapped her bleeding hand to the wound. One of the teeth had grazed her,
the wound was not deep, but it felt as if she'd been scalded by a red hot poker.
She watched in stunned silence as the creature snapped its four-sided maw shut,
breaking the steel blade almost contemptuously and then spitting the pieces out.
The proof of her existence had broken so easily.
It had been the only thing she'd brought out from the darkness.
And now it was gone.
It had been a symbol for her life. Something solid that she could believe in.
She shook her head frantically.
This couldn't be happening!
She shuffled backwards, her eyes going blurry all of a sudden.
It couldn't be true!
She could feel ice flowing into her veins from the wound now.
Poison...
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The predator followed the food steadily.
There was no rush now.
It watched and waited.
It was good at waiting.
Soon the meat would stop and it would feed.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
She couldn't feel her arm anymore.
The ice was spreading down her ribs, soon it would reach her legs.
And then....
The eyes were getting closer.
She fumbled backwards, never turning away from the death that approached her.
She fell.
The clearing was small, where a tree had fallen not too long ago.
She could see stars twinkling above.
Her feeble efforts to get up accomplished nothing more then to leave her twitching on the carpet of dead leaves.
She could hear it coming for her.
The petaled maw opened up.
"GRAVIGA!"
The beast squealed in sudden pain as its body and the immediate ground surrounding
it collapsed under a large sphere of crackling black and purple energies.
She tried to focus her vision, but everything seemed to be fading into a blur.
There was somebody out there.
"AERO!"
The creature was tossed into a large tree like a small toy. It hit the hard wood with an audible crunch.
"HOLY!"
Light. So brilliantly white that it cut away the night like a blowtorch against cobwebs.
But the darkness was already pulling her back.
With all of her will she strained to see the figure approaching her.
For an instant, she saw her.
An angel with wings of white....
....and then there was only the Darkness.
-End Chapter 1: Monsters in the Dark
A Pokewomen Universe Story
by Shade
Porn with Plot Warning.
Copyrighted character use warning.
Ignoring what a lot of other people wrote warning.
Warning about warning warning warning.
"None but a coward dares to boast that he has never known fear."
-Ferdinand Foch
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Chapter 1: Monsters in the Dark
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He drifted in nothingness.
There was no color, no shape, not even a sense of self.
Only a vague awareness of a point that differentiated here from elsewhere.
Time meant nothing. Past and Future were concepts without meaning. It was always Now.
He was content.
This was peace. True peace.
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A faintly glowing green light began to flash yellow.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
There was a disturbance in the emptiness of the ever-present now.
The Void was retreating. The Wheel of Time was turning again.
Unwanted sensation began to percolate back into the fluttering butterfly of awareness.
He was himself.
He was alive.
He couldn't breathe.
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More lights began flash on the panel. Although there were fewer of them there should
have been as many of them on the dusty panel appeared to have burned out.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
He couldn't breathe!
His limbs flailed around as the brain sought for oxygen.
His arms struck something solid. He could feel the vibrations from the impact.
He couldn't breathe!!
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The capsule rocked.
More lights began to flash.
And then a muffled thump as bolts slid free and the sound of a large quantity
of liquid splashing onto the floor.
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He hit the floor hard, vomiting liquid from his lungs.
It tasted like stale blood.
Desperately he inhaled the dusty dry air, coughing and choking.
It was dark here. Even with his eyes now open, there was only blackness.
Where was he?
The last thing he remembered was....nothing?
On trembling legs he stood up. He turned around. There was less darkness
over to his right...but even as he started to step forward it faded back
into the rest of the gloom.
He was alone in the darkness. All alone.
He shivered and realized he was naked.
Where was he? Where were the others?
One of his shins banged into something hard and he cried out at the unexpected pain.
The darkness seemed to swallow up his cry without a trace.
His hands reached out, feeling like a blind man for something to anchor his position.
Nothing.
Just empty space before his fingers.
He didn't like it here. He had to get out. He needed light.
He needed to know that he wasn't alone. Where were the people?
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She purified herself under the cold clear water of the waterfall.
Her silky white wings stretched out, the long soft feathers sleek and unmarred.
It was going to be another glorious day.
As she left her morning ablution, she dried herself with a plain cotton towel.
She dressed herself in a robe of white and pale green, the material coming tight
over her generous bust as she finished tying the green and gold sash around her waist.
Her long hair was the color of warm sunshine and fell naturally down her back without
the need for pins or braids. Aside from the elegant wire bracers on her forearms,
the only ornamentation she wore was a small thin circlet of gold that showed
over her forehead rather then resting on top of her hair. Her face was elegant but kind,
with warm sky blue eyes. In another age, composers would have written songs about her
beauty, kings and princes would have sailed half the world to claim her for their own,
but here and now she was only the Priestess of the Forbidden Grounds.
"Urutori-sama."
Kneeling on the floor was a stoic young woman dressed in plain brown and grey cloth
that was cut high on the thigh to give her long legs freedom of movement. Her hair
was long and fine, the color of pure smoke ascending to the heavens. At her side
was a long sheathed blade in a scabbard of dull black. Her eyes were closed, but
even so that did not seem to hinder her vision.
"Good morning, Shiryu. I've told you before not to kneel."
"As you say, Urutori-sama."
Urutori noted that despite this acknowledgment, her informal protector still didn't rise.
"Tea?"
"Thank you, no."
The winged priestess sighed good-naturedly. Shiryu meant well, but the Ryutoshi
line had always prized efficiency over social interaction. It made them unrivaled
combatants, but rather lacking when it came to light conversation.
"The Rites of Remembrance are to be held today. I may be late returning to the shrine."
Her silent companion remained so.
"Ah, you don't need to shadow me. You know it will take you twice as long to get there."
Still no reply.
"Suit yourself."
Urutori quickly packed what she would need and carefully strapped the satchel on her back
between her wings where the weight would not disrupt her flight balance. When she turned
around again, the floor was already empty.
"So stubborn."
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The first hints of thirst began to quietly claw at his throat.
He was crawling on the ground like a toddler now. At some point he'd
tripped over something with an edge and lacerated his left leg just
under the kneecap.
It was humiliating.
He could feel the stickiness of his own blood slowly running down to the floor.
He had to get out of here.
It felt as if the darkness was pressing in on him like a great stone
balanced on his head.
There had to be a way out.
"help."
The word felt clumsy and unnatural in his mouth.
"Help."
Less of a croak, but still barely understandable even to his own ears.
"Help!"
At last, the sound of his own voice was there with him and for a moment
he could almost convince himself that he was alive and not alone.
But only for a moment.
The silence seemed to roll back into the gap his sounds had made in it
like high tide coming in.
And then his questing hands found a gap in the wall. There was darkness there too,
but a different shade from the one he had found in the rest of the room.
It didn't matter, he had to get out of there. He had to survive!
Stumbling to his knees, his injured leg trembling slightly from the raw throbbing
pulses of hot pain coming from his wound, he lurched forward into the unknown.
The Voices were waiting for him.
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It was a most enjoyable flight. The thermals were very stable today, allowing her
to conserve a great deal of energy by using them to glide towards her destination
with only minimal movements of her wings to keep her on course.
Urutori watched the ancient forest below her flight path. The peaceful natural
scenery of the green growing things always soothed her soul even in the darkest times.
But she also kept a watchful eye for any movement or shapes that should not be there.
There had not been any sightings of Dark Evolutions in this area for many years,
but the priestess had lived among these woods for most of her life. She knew
better then to trust the picture of calm below.
The winged Pokewoman might prefer to avoid needless violence,
but that didn't mean she wasn't very good at it.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
He was going Mad.
'Blood. Delicious Warm Blood.'
'Kill! Kill the Manflesh!!'
'Devour it, Yesss. Juicy, Tasty...wiggly.'
They were in his head.
'Eat you. Eat you. EAT YOU!!'
And then there was light. Faint, unearthly flickering pale white lights all around him.
He could see. And suddenly wished that he couldn't.
The mummified face of what had once been Linda McKenzie stared down at him.
'We see you!'
He screamed.
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There it was up ahead.
Typhonna's Scar.
Even from a distance the change in terrain was startling. The line of trees ended
abruptly about a hundred meters from a wide dirty brown ravine of fused rock and sand.
Nothing taller then scrub grass and an occasional thin bush grew here. Time and the
elements had changed much of the area, but this wound to the land had not healed.
Perhaps it never would.
Urutori slowly began to circle as she descended. Landing was always the most vulnerable
time for fliers. The white stone shrines that marked the Boundary were easily visible,
they stood out from their surroundings like a shining beacon.
As she touched down, the wind seemed to sing as it danced through
the winding sides of the gorge.
Urutori always wondered what her ancestors had seen here when they had come to perform
the Rites in their times. The Forbidden Grounds had always been there, none of those
who lived in the Deep Woods remembered a time when it was not so.
She approached the largest of the shrines. The rocks were well worn and pitted where
water had ground away at it a droplet at a time. Moss grew thickly on them where
the shade was thickest. The priestess would not have traded any of it for a temple of finest gold.
She took off her pack and stepped foward with slow reverence.
"The Sleeper Sleeps but Does Not Dream,"
She sang like a nightingale.
"When the Sleeper Wakes, the True Dream Will Begin,"
Her clothes seemed to take on a life of their own
as Urutori began to move in time with the haunting melody.
"Watch for the Signs that will Mark the Heir,"
Light began to form in an aura around her moving body.
"Water's Servant, Air's Master, Fire's Bane, Earth's Despair,"
It trailed after her like an afterimage of all the colors of the rainbow.
"Free of True, Free of False, Let the Price be Paid in Full!"
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Bones.
There were bones everywhere.
The white skulls stared back at him with empty sockets.
He had to get out!
Terror gave him strength.
He was up and running, not even feeling his feet being
slashed to ribbons on razor sharp shards of bone.
He had to get away from here!
The Voices pursued him, digging deep into his mind, clinging
like fat spectral lampreys at his sanity.
Run! Run!!
He didn't know how long he ran or in what direction.
Everything was a blur of shadows within darker shadows.
There was only the Fear.
He stumbled over something and fell hard to the ground.
The sudden shock broke the spell. Pain flooded through
his body as adrenaline left his system, leaving him
gasping for air in short tight breaths.
The lights were gone.
He felt blindly for what it was that had tripped him.
It felt horribly familiar.
Something thin and papery crumbled away under his touch.
It was the ancient remains of a human arm.
He tried to thrust it away from him and yelped as something
hard and sharp stabbed him on the hip.
Without thinking he reached to pull it out and cried out
again as his fingers met an edge of metal.
A knife.
His brain seemed to be moving at the speed of jello.
Knife. Weapon. Tool.
His hands found the hilt clutched tightly in bony fingers.
Survive!
Without really knowing what he was doing, his fingers
pulled, trying to pry the blade from its former owner
grasp.
He had to survive!
There was a loud snap and the knife fell free in a shower
of brittle bone fragments.
He grabbed for it and clutched it tightly to his chest.
It was sticky with his own blood.
But at that moment, it was the only point of reality in his world.
He had the Knife. He would Live.
Light!?
There was light! Just the faintest speck...but it was there!
A way out....
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Water splashed onto the stone altar.
Clear and pure, it overflowed from the shallow depression
in the center and spilled onto the mossy stones below.
A handful of early summer flowers had been placed with care
just over the basin. Their yellow and orange petals made
a fitting offering in Urutori's opinion.
The Mother did not ask for much from her followers.
Just the play of light and water.
And a little faith.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The climb towards the little speck of light was a hellish ordeal.
The skin of his palms was scraped raw from clinging to
uncertain handholds in the oppressive darkness as he
scrabbled for each inch upwards.
The thirst was growing worse. His tongue felt like it was
swelling up inside of his mouth. His lips were cracked
and bled slightly with each painful muffled grunt he made as
he pulled his aching body towards the glimmer above.
Only sheer willpower kept him from screaming
when his feet accidently banged against the
side of the shaft. If he had screamed then
he would have dropped the Knife.
The Knife was important.
It was proof that he was alive.
Inch by inch he clawed his way to the light,
to the promise of fresh air and freedom.
One handhold after another.
Higher and higher.
He slipped and nearly fell, only coming to a stop when
his desperately seeking fingers found a crevice that
held him long enough for his other hand to find a
more secure grip.
He could smell a difference in the air now. A faint breeze
brought the scent of grass to his nose. It only made him
long for the light even more.
There was no sense of time, only of distance.
Closer and closer to the growing window of light.
He could begin to make out texures as well as shapes now.
The shadows were shrinking into lighter shades of darkness.
And then his hand was held out and caught by the full illumination
and he could see it, really see it for the first time.
It was crusted with his dried blood.
He swayed as his head finally came up high enough into the light.
It was so bright!
His eyes were dazzled to the point of pain as he still struggled
to get the rest of his body out of the shaft. Tears ran down his
face as his vision fought to adjust to the change from the long
darkness.
He looked up and blinked away the tears.
The sun was shining over a field of waving green.
It was beautiful.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The sweet smell of burning incense rose into the air.
"He comes."
The space was dark save for the tiny wisp of flame coming from the bronze brazier.
"The Destroyer."
"Where?"
The voice that spoke was cold and harsh like an axe left out in the winter night.
"From the Rising of the Sun."
"The East? There are only weaklings and fools there."
"Underestimate him and court destruction. The pebble will always precede the avalanche."
"Then he must die."
"Perhaps."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
He crawled under the warmth of the sun, leaving a small trail
of blood on the grass as he moved away from the oppressive
darkness behind him.
He needed water.
His ears had caught the faint sounds of a stream. He didn't know
how he had recognized it, but the thirst drove any other thoughts
from his mind.
The knife was clutched tightly in his wounded hand, while with the other
he dragged himself forward. His feet were a mess, he didn't dare try to
stand on them.
He could smell the water now.
Clean and fresh, it sang to him.
He tried to move faster.
So tantalizingly close....
And then suddenly he found himself slipping downwards, tumbling on loose stones
and gravel until at last with a wet sploosh, his head hit the water.
He coughed and choked as he pulled his dripping wet head free from the stream.
It was cold.
He plunged his mouth back in and started to drink greedily like an animal.
It tasted better then anything he could remember. He could have drunk an ocean of it.
As he raised his head again, he laughed for the first time.
He was alive!
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
He awoke as the sun was starting to set.
He didn't remember closing his eyes. But his body felt better then it had earlier.
He risked a look at his feet and saw that the damage wasn't as bad as it had seemed.
The wounds were deep, but already scabbed over. He risked putting weight on one foot
and though it was still painful, it managed to support him.
He eased his feet into the stream, hissing slightly as the water softened the scabs.
Scrubbing as best he could with his hands, he washed his feet and hands clean of
the caked rust colored blood on them.
After he was done, he took another drink a little upstream.
But when he looked at his reflection in the mirror surface of the water
for the first time, he yelled out loud in shock and terror.
What had happened to his face?!
His hands flew up to his head.
They slowly traced the skin under his ears and came forward up to the tops
of his cheeks where they met the obstacle of the Mask. It was white and hard,
not like stone or metal, but almost like bone. It was smooth to the touch
and his fingers traced their way up to where two small protrusions came
out like miniature pointed horns on either side of the forehead.
Why was it on him?
He couldn't see his real face!
No matter how he wrenched and pulled the Mask would not come off. It was
as if it was actually a part of his face. It seemed to join seamlessly to
the skin, there was no gap in between for him to find.
At last he fell to the ground on his back, panting with exhaustion
from his fruitless efforts to free himself from the thing on his face.
Numb acceptance that he could not remove it gradually settled over
his initial panic and he slumped onto the grass.
His stomach gurgled unhappily.
He was hungry. There seemed to be a pit where his stomach should be,
a void that demanded to be filled and made images of foods he couldn't
remember the names of swim in his vision.
He couldn't think about anything else. The need for nourishment
was driving his system, all of his mental functions seemed
to suddenly be focused on getting something to eat.
When had he last eaten?
Like everything else, he could not remember.
He looked around.
There were stands of trees not too far away,
but he could see neither fruits nor nuts
on their branches. The grassy area offered
no other signs of life, not even a single
rabbit he would have happily made a meal of.
And then a flicker of movement out of the corner
of his eye made him turn back to the stream.
He saw the fat silhouettes swimming in the water.
Fish.
His mouth watered.
Food.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The priestess made her camp by the shrines.
A small fire ringed with stones crackled merrily as a metal pot with four steel feet
bubbled delicious smells over it. Next to it wafts of fragrant steam arose from
the seeping herb tea.
Shiryu would probably arrive in time for dinner, she knew. While it would be nice
to have company, she wished that the other Pokewoman wouldn't push herself like that.
Very few things in this region would attack an Onkami once.
Natural selection ensured that they wouldn't do so twice.
Nevertheless, she had set alarm wards around the camp.
If anything unwanted did decide to show itself, she would have plenty of advance warning.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
He stared hungrily at the teasing shapes beneath the water.
There had to be a way to get them.
He could feel thaT the knowledge was there, but as soon as he concentrated on it,
the memories fled. The hunger wasn't helping either, all he could see was fish.
If he could only reach out and grab-
His arms blurred and stabbed through the water towards their target.
Surprised trout suddenly found themselves launched into the air
where they flopped helplessly onto the warm grass.
His jaw dropped.
How? He hadn't even been thinking, it had just been the desire for it.
He had not told his body what to do, his arms had just moved on their own.
Almost as if they had done this before.
As if he had done this before.
But he was too hungry to stop and question his good fortune. He went
for the desperately flopping fish and ended their struggles with the knife.
Then he stared at the bodies.
Fire. He needed fire to cook them. Dimly, he could recall that the flesh
of some fish could be eaten raw, but these were not the right kind for that.
He looked towards the woods.
Fire....
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It watched him from within the forest.
It saw him gather the abundant supply of dead wood from under the trees.
It tracked him back to the bad place where it did not dare to go.
Meals the size of this one were rare and required a bit more cunning then its usual fare.
But it was patient.
It only needed to strike him once.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The delicious smell of roasting fish was making him drool.
He had used the knife to sharpen some sticks that he'd impaled through
the trouts' mouths. Then he'd found two Y-shaped branches that he had used
to set the sticks on and now watched with avid eyes as little drops of oil
dripped from the cooking fish.
The fire had been easy, almost too easy.
He had wanted the fire, but he had not thought about how to make the fire.
He'd looked at the fish as his hands moved on their own and took two sticks.
They had blurred again just like when they'd caught the fish and then there had been
a small flame. He had fed it with grass and small bits of wood until it was finally
big enough for real pieces of wood. Once it had burned down to coals he'd set up
the fish and now he was almost dancing with impatience to take them down and eat them.
At last the skin was crispy and coming off of the meat and he could wait no more.
He barely felt the heat as he pulled the nearest trout to his mouth and bit down.
Hot fish juices filled his mouth as he mashed the soft white flesh with his teeth.
He paused just long enough to gulp the first bite down before going back for another bite.
Food. Glorious food.
He ate as if that was his only purpose in life.
There were six fish. By the time he was though they were only heads, fins and bones.
He licked his fingers clean like a child. Fish grease was smeared all over his mouth.
Now that his most immediate needs had been finally satisfied, other concerns began to make themselves known.
He sniffed himself and quickly wrinkled his nose.
He stank of sweat, blood and other things. Most strongly of all was the stale smell
of the liquid that he had been in back in the darkness.
He didn't want to remember that. But the smell and the sticky feeling on his skin
kept reminding him of it. He wanted to wash it off.
But....
The stars were starting to come out overhead. He looked at the dark ribbon that was the stream.
It had been so cold when he'd drunk his fill earlier. With the sun gone, it surely would be
even colder now. He remembered the icy shock when his head had been dunked in there.
He shivered.
But there was another feeling as well. He did not want to go into the cold water.
Not just because it would feel cold, but because it *was* cold.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
In the end, his protesting nose won over the vague sense of dread.
Slowly, carefully he stepped out into the water, feeling his toes go
numb from the cold as he waded towards the middle of the stream.
Trying to finish quickly, he splashed himself and started to clean
himself as best he could with handfuls of grass balled up into a crude
kind of scrubber.
He could feel goosebumps forming all over.
And gradually another sensation began to form as he continued to rinse and scrub.
It was the weirdest feeling, as if his body was both expanding and shrinking at the same time.
He looked down at his chest.
It was a chest, but it wasn't his.
It was *hers*.
"AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Urutori's head came up.
That had almost sounded like the echo of a scream.
But that was impossible. Nobody lived in the Forbidden Grounds and no creature
could pass the stone markers of the boundary line. She knew that as she knew
that the sun would rise and set from east to west.
But if it had not been a scream, then what was that noise?
Shiryu had not arrived yet. Her protector would probably go to great lengths *not*
to point out how she shouldn't be investigating on her own. The Ryutoshi was very
good at *not* lecturing when she was upset with her charge.
Sometimes silence could be louder then shouting.
But she was the Priestess of this area. It was her responsibility.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
This had to be a dream.
Men didn't turn into women.
But her hands confirmed that, yes, those were breasts and yes,
they apparently did belong to him or as it were now, her.
She leaped out of the water as if it had suddenly turned to ice
and ran back to her fire.
There had to be a way to turn back!
She was a guy!
There was a sense of familiarity about that and for an instant
she could almost feel the shape of a memory on the tip of her tongue.
But then the moment passed and she was back to hopping naked and dripping
wet around the red glowing embers. Unable to think of anything better to do,
she threw more wood on the fire to build it back up to a steady blaze.
The crackling heat pushing back against her face calmed her down a little.
The warmth was a familiar thing. Another symbol of the life she couldn't recall.
But why had he became a she?
She tried to summon the knowledge from the fog and shadows in her brain,
but was rewarded only with a steady throbbing pain in the back of her head.
She clutched at the base of her skull, gasping and whimpering as she curled
up into a ball. It felt like all the pressure in her head would simply explode
out in a gory display of blood and brains.
"chi-chi."
She looked up at the sound.
Through watering eyes she saw what looked like a small figure at the very edge
of the forest. It looked back at her and she gasped as she realized it was
the face of a small girl.
The face vanished and the figure slid deeper into the woods.
"Wait!"
She called desperately after the retreating girl. It was the first person
had seen since waking up. The presence of another person meant that she wasn't alone.
Her head still throbbing, she started to stumble after the girl.
Almost without her noticing it, the Knife was in her hand.
She didn't understand why it was there, but as the darkness of the forest grew nearer,
she was glad for its presence. What had seemed so harmless when the sun was still up
had taken on a more ominous appearance with only the twinkling stars watching from above.
The figure led her deeper into the woods.
No matter how fast she tried to go, she just couldn't seem to close the distance.
At last, panting for breath, she came to a halt. She didn't know how far she'd gone in,
but she could no longer see the edge of the forest, there were only silent trees looming
in every direction.
She turned around and realized she didn't know which way she'd come from.
Everything looked the same. There was no sign of her passage.
She suddenly realized that she was lost.
But not alone.
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The night breeze was cool on her skin as she swooped through the sky.
Her eyes spotted a fire that wasn't hers in the night.
She came lower for a closer look and let out a gasp of shock.
It was inside of the Forbidden Grounds!
But...that was impossible!
The priestess scanned the ground frantically for the intruder.
Who would dare to violate the ancient taboo set down by the Legendary Verdandi herself?
And how had they gotten past the protections?
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"chi-chi."
Again came the sound and she turned towards it.
It was the half-hidden face of the little girl.
But something about it was....off.
She held up the knife, suddenly wishing she was back at the fire.
The way the figure moved was all wrong.
Slowly, it stepped into full view.
"Chi-Chi!"
She screamed.
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Urutori heard the scream.
The blonde Onkami pulled a sharp right and banked in the direction that the cry had come from.
Gone was the expression of an easy going priestess.
It had been replaced by grim features of a Pokewoman in full battle mode.
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The pale face of the little girl extended forward....and split into four triangular sections
from out of the middle. Rows of curved serrated teeth exposed themselves as the sections peeled
back to reveal a glistening horribly long sticky tongue that tasted the air like a snake.
Glowing yellow eyes the size of her hands eyed her hungrily from where they were suddenly revealed
above and behind the mask of the girl, along with the creature's true form. Camouflaged by the darkness,
the monster's black body was nearly invisible until the faint starlight shone on it directly through
gaps in the leaves above. It was like some bizzare cross between a reptile and an insect. Ridges and
scales competed with segemented insectile armoring that protected its limbs. The joints of its legs
were backwards, like some kind of giant grasshopper. Every foot seemed to end only in points.
"CHI-CHI!"
It screamed at her.
Something dark and viscous oozed from the largest fangs at the outer edges of the beast's petal style mouth.
Her mouth went dry.
It was beginning to move towards her.
She stepped back slowly, trying not to show her fear.
She could sense that if she panicked and ran, it would be all over her.
What was it?
She had never seen anything like it.
The fish, the trees, those were things she knew she had seen before.
She didn't remember when or where, but the knowledge was there,
the certainty that those things were real and normal.
This monstrosity...wasn't.
Her eyes just couldn't seem to accept the way it stalked towards her.
The way it moved was all wrong. The joints bent and her mind told her
that it was at all the wrong angles. She found that she couldn't move,
the obscenity of its motions seemed to hypnotize her.
One foot couldn't find its balance in time and she stumbled.
It lunged at her in a blur.
She swung the knife on pure reflex as she fell.
It caught on one of the petals of the mouth and stuck there like it had been glued on,
ripping the hilt out of her unprepared hand, taking some of the skin of her palm with it.
Pain seared down her shoulder.
She clapped her bleeding hand to the wound. One of the teeth had grazed her,
the wound was not deep, but it felt as if she'd been scalded by a red hot poker.
She watched in stunned silence as the creature snapped its four-sided maw shut,
breaking the steel blade almost contemptuously and then spitting the pieces out.
The proof of her existence had broken so easily.
It had been the only thing she'd brought out from the darkness.
And now it was gone.
It had been a symbol for her life. Something solid that she could believe in.
She shook her head frantically.
This couldn't be happening!
She shuffled backwards, her eyes going blurry all of a sudden.
It couldn't be true!
She could feel ice flowing into her veins from the wound now.
Poison...
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The predator followed the food steadily.
There was no rush now.
It watched and waited.
It was good at waiting.
Soon the meat would stop and it would feed.
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She couldn't feel her arm anymore.
The ice was spreading down her ribs, soon it would reach her legs.
And then....
The eyes were getting closer.
She fumbled backwards, never turning away from the death that approached her.
She fell.
The clearing was small, where a tree had fallen not too long ago.
She could see stars twinkling above.
Her feeble efforts to get up accomplished nothing more then to leave her twitching on the carpet of dead leaves.
She could hear it coming for her.
The petaled maw opened up.
"GRAVIGA!"
The beast squealed in sudden pain as its body and the immediate ground surrounding
it collapsed under a large sphere of crackling black and purple energies.
She tried to focus her vision, but everything seemed to be fading into a blur.
There was somebody out there.
"AERO!"
The creature was tossed into a large tree like a small toy. It hit the hard wood with an audible crunch.
"HOLY!"
Light. So brilliantly white that it cut away the night like a blowtorch against cobwebs.
But the darkness was already pulling her back.
With all of her will she strained to see the figure approaching her.
For an instant, she saw her.
An angel with wings of white....
....and then there was only the Darkness.
-End Chapter 1: Monsters in the Dark