Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction ❯ Preggers ❯ The Ritual ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Sorcerer Hunters, but that hasn't stopped me from writing about them.

Warning: This story contains the themes of yaoi (male slash, Carrot slash specifically), violence, some non-con. and a pregnant male. If any of these may offend you then stop reading. If, however, you do read this, in spite of my warnings, and find it offensive then I have to say it is your own fault. Some scenes are of an erotic nature, but I have attempted to write them as tastefully as my ability allows.

Note: I will not accept any flames, however, comments and criticisms are welcome. I am under the assumption that anyone reading this has a clear understanding of the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. Here are some reason why I don't accept flames: 1) they generally include an attack on the author's character without regard to previous or future works that may or may not be in the same vein, 2) not only are they childish, but they make the writer of them sound immature and not old enough to read the material contained herein, 3) flames help neither the author nor the flamer to improve the work and, therefore, are not constructive, 4) if something is so offensive as to elicit the impulse to flame then it is better forgotten and not dwelled upon, 5) you waste time writing it and I waste time reading and then deleting it, 6) it won't do you any good to point out my lack of scruples, morals, intelligence, sanity, etc., because not only don't I care, but I won't listen.

So, please review with questions and comments, but flames are not tolerated. Thankies!

A harsh gasp escaped his mouth even as his mind screamed out in terrified denial. Strong fingers molded his oh-so willing body to receive the pleasure forced upon it. Eyes rolled back, arms straining against metal shackles, the boy writhed beneath his captor. The man invaded his innocent mouth with his sleek tongue and pulled forth strangled cries with great facility. The boy twisted violently, seeking to throw off the burning heat of the one straddling him, but the man only growled lowly and pressed him further into the sweat-slicked sheets.

This wasn't happening. He couldn't believe it wasn't some twisted nightmare, some twisted, intoxicating nightmare. Where were the others? Why hadn't they come to rescue him? He knew with a shuddering certainty that he would never hold out. Every bruising caress pushed him closer to a dangerous precipice…and he would fall.

His captor's burning mouth moved purposefully down his damp neck, briefly laving the frenetic pulse with a velvet tongue, before pausing above his heart. Guttural words drifted up to his bewildered ears, as the man began a strange incantation. Tension coiled in fiery ropes about the boy's stomach and a dark rapture rode his young body.

An agonized scream tore its way out of the boy's throat as his captor sank his teeth into the flesh above his heart. He twisted, tears of pain trailing down his flushed cheeks, and struggled to escape the rending teeth. Power, not magic, poured into the wound and spilled over his panicked heart. Squeezing it as if the man had reached in with his own hand and crushed the beating organ.

Soft sobs crawled out of the boy's abused throat as the wound sent incorporeal daggers into his mind. He opened dazed brown eyes and stared pleadingly at his captor. Neither pride nor dignity had been left to him, only pleasure, pain and supplication.

"There lies the first seal," the man murmured, licking the blood from his lips. He smiled darkly, violet eyes glowing with power. He lowered his head and moved down the boy's quivering body. A line of energy followed his warm lips from the mark above the boy's heart. He stopped just below the navel. Through thick lashes he met the boy's frightened, excited eyes. Softly he blew across the skin. The boy jerked and blushed.

Then the man lowered his mouth and ripped another scream from the boy with his merciless teeth. Brown eyes wide, the boy thrashed about. Sweat dripped down his face and heaving chest.

He bit me, the boy screamed inside his head as pain jabbed white stars behind his open eyes. He…

Power, like the first time, thrust into the bite mark and spread with liquid fire through the boy's veins. He could feel it sparkling through him, bending his spine and tightening his lower stomach in honeyed strings.

"There lies the second seal." His captor rose bloody and satisfied. With an enigmatic grin he turned his gaze to the final step of the ritual. The boy's eyes bugged out and a hitched moan swept past his bruised lips.

Lazily the man encircled the boy's arousal with one skilled hand. He watched the play of emotions across the boy's unguarded face. With the addition of pressure the boy shifted restlessly, confusion and distress evident on his youthful face. The boy watched his every action, brows knit, with helplessness.

"Does your body betray you?" he inquired softly. The boy flinched, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the wicked ministrations of his captor. He choked back a startled exclamation as the man's hot mouth descended upon his erection. A tumult of sensations radiated through his bound limbs, and he moaned in bewildered pleasure. The moist tongue caressing him shot ribbons of tension through his excited nerve endings.

Liquid ecstasy pushed towards release just as something else, something overwhelming and unnatural, sought entrance. Words, un-words, chants, spiraled through the channels of his ears as the two forces clashed. Body convulsing with the burning climax, the boy felt a heated power sliding thief-like to each seal, activating…something…

Eyes rolled back, body limp, the boy lay motionless save the rise and fall of his chest with each shallow breath. A loud heartbeat filled the stillness of the room and, as the seconds crept by, a second, fainter heartbeat sounded. The man smiled.

* * *

Not much time. Corridors, black and sinister, branched every which way. Arching doors lead into countless shadowed rooms. Too many places, not enough time. Feet pounding across the veined floor of gray marble, a single warrior searched frantically. Haz Knight Mille Feuille was running out of time. The other Knights could only hold of Sacher Torte for so long. No doubt the sorcerer doctor had already figured out the truth behind their bold attack: Carrot Glace. The boy was somewhere, hidden deep within the womb of the former Haz Knight's sanctuary.

The elder Glace brother had disappeared two weeks ago. He had gone out chasing girls and never came back. His partners, Tira Misu and his brother, Marron Glace, had been frantic (and still were). And when they had found out who had him…

The Knight stopped before a door warded with powerful spells of containment. This had to the room. With a harsh cry he ripped a section of the warding away with his magic, unable to remove the entirety of it.

"Carrot?" He paused upon the threshold as a dazzling white brilliance battered his eyes. Blinking against the dazzle, he stared about the room in mild shock. Everything was so…so…white. Thick drapes of frosty silk hung from the ceiling and pooled onto the white-carpeted floor. A large canopy bed of pale wood dominated the north side. From the four rods of the canopy trailed cobweb-delicate swathes of gauze.

Cautiously he stepped forward and approached the bed. He could detect no movement, but a shadowy outline of somebody gave rise to hope. Graceful in full Haz Knight armor, the man crossed the floor and thrust back the gauze.

"Carrot…" his voice trailed off as he gazed upon the softly sleeping boy. His face held all the innocence of creation and a charming naivete he retained upon awaking, but his body, the portion exposed by the snow sheet, revealed the dark truths of his imprisonment. Iron shackles stretched his arms over his head and painted deep bruises on his wrists. A deeper, darker bruise, surrounding a perfect imprint of teeth, existed over the boy's heart. Mille didn't need to touch it to know that potent magic had been sealed into that wound. A humming cord of power ran from that mark to one lower, hidden by the sheet.

The Knight broke the offensive chains and, after attempting to awaken Carrot without success, wrapped the boy up in the sheets. He held the precious bundle and opened the channel Big Mama had given him.

"Mille? Do you have him?" her soft and anxious voice intoned.

"Yes."

"Thank the gods." The woman's happiness filled the room and banished the secret horrors of the white room. "Come home, Mille."

* * *

The auburn-haired girl and black-haired boy hovered anxiously at their companion's side as Big Mama's physician checked him over. The sleeping boy remained unaffected by any attempts to awaken him. He continued to dream on obliviously.

"Will he be all right?" Tira Misu demanded for the hundredth time.

"All damage appears to be superficial," the calm, elderly man replied.

"Then why doesn't he awake?" Marron Glace asked, gazing upon his brother's face as if he could burn it into his living memory.

"As far as I can tell, he's been drugged, magically."

"A spell?"

"Yes, but not one I've ever seen. It's very odd, but it doesn't seem to be doing any harm, just keeping him asleep." The old man shrugged and stood up. "It's grip over him is fading even as we speak. My guess is that he'll be up and about in a couple of days. I don't know what purpose putting him to sleep serves, but it's a pretty light thing. He's lucky. Worse could've happened, and could've been done to him." The old man nodded thoughtfully to himself and packed his instruments with practiced efficiency. With a slight bow he exited the room, leaving the two teens to guard their companions slumbering form.

Tira sniffled and kneeled besides the unconscious boy. She whispered his name and picked up one unmoving hand.

"Carrot, what happened?" The boy gave no answer. The girl rubbed her cheek against his hand, uncaring of the audience, and sent a silent prayer to the gods for his wellbeing.

"I should have been there. I should have stopped this," Marron raged quietly. Guilt ate away at his heart for being unable to prevent his older brother's kidnap. He too wanted to know what Sacher Torte had inflicted upon Carrot.

* * *

So, it isn't humor. I never said it would be. So please leave a review so I know you stopped by and restrain the urge to flame, if you would be so kind and respectful. In addition, don't expect deep philosophical answers in this story. Carrot's pregnant.