Ancient Words: Ch. 19 "Sacrifice", PG13, Sam, Dean, OC's
Title/Chapter: Ancient Words - Ch. 19 “Sacrifice”
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: The ritual has begun and a sacrifice is offered.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc.
Chapter 19 - “Sacrifice”
Shadows danced across the room.
Dark mixed with light in a mesmerizing symphony, each fighting for control in the open space.
The air was still, as if waiting. Just as they were all - waiting: hardly daring to breathe; waiting for this nightmare to begin. The drum of his own heartbeat strained against his chest as he watched the horrifying show unfold.
Maybe it was the flickering of the candlelight, but Larkin’s movements seemed jerky, controlled, and deliberate. He was across the room, so Sam couldn’t make out the words he was mumbling to himself in a forceful mantra.
Eyes closed and head reclined back, Larkin’s face flickered in a dark expression of ecstasy. When again he opened his eyes, their deep blue was startling in their intensity. Sam found himself tensed, pulling uselessly against the bonds that held him cruelly to the table.
His eyes swung to the other occupants of this hell. Bobby’s deep brown eyes were watching in detached fascination. His face was calm, almost peaceful. He looked like he was in his own world. For that, Sam was grateful.
He’d watched as the big man brought Annie in several moments ago. She was so still he thought for sure she was unconscious, but her eyes had blinked open as she was seated on the floor, seeking out her brother.
He watched her now, studying the way the flickering light danced across her pale features, accentuating bruises and highlighting the burning fear deep in her eyes. As if she felt his eyes on her, she turned her head slightly and met his gaze. The resolve in her eyes took him by surprise.
Maybe it was because she looked so broken.
In fact, looking at her sitting there, weakly held up against the wall, head listing to rest there as well, one would think she was out for the count. But her eyes - they spoke of a different story. The determination was intense, and her brown eyes were deep pools of it.
Sam wished he could tell her to stay strong. In Bobby’s words, to be brave. As if she heard his silent wish, she inclined her head toward him slightly before again turning towards her brother.
His eyes drew back to Bobby as well, as he sensed a change within the room. Bobby must have sensed it as well, because he tensed, eyes roving about frantically before finally resting on his sister.
The charge within the room lifted the air, causing the slightest wind to gather. He felt his skin tingle and goose bumps rise. He strained against his bonds uselessly as he took in the sight of Larkin’s excited countenance. Their captor stood in front of Bobby, gazing down at his prize in detached fascination. In his hand, he held a long, silver knife. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room.
He screamed through the gag, wishing desperately for a miracle. Hell, I’ll pray for a miracle right about now, God. Seriously, dude. Just save Bobby.
*************************************
Annie watched the proceedings with mounting fury. Righteous anger made her shake, but her pained and exhausted body was numb by now to its torment.
There just wasn’t enough time.
She couldn’t place the knife behind her bound wrists, instead fumbling, and cut her wrists several times. She watched the macabre scene before her in horror.
The shadows dancing around the room seemed to radiate the very fight between good and evil about to ensue. Dark mixed with light in a mesmerizing symphony, each fighting for control. Annie closed her eyes.
The still air accentuated her position, forced to watch from her place on the floor. She could just make out her brother’s face. She was relieved to see that he seemed to be blocking this out.
She bore holes through the back of the man in between her and her brother, stopping as she felt other eyes on her. She barely turned her head, flicking her eyes to see Sam for the first time. She acknowledged him, understood the feeling of helplessness written plainly on his face.
She wished she could tell him to just be brave, it would be okay. She registered his resolve, holding it close to her. If there was a way to get out of this, he would find it. Or maybe she could. But not without a little help.
She sensed the change in the air. Bobby must have sensed it too, she felt his eyes collide with hers as she struggled not to panic because of the fear hidden within those brown depths. Her sweet brother! He didn’t deserve this. Tears gathered and burned trails down her cheeks as she held her brother’s gaze, wishing desperately she could infuse him with strength.
She felt the slightest wind as a charge within the room lifted the air. She let her gaze wander fleetingly from her brother. Noticed that the man in front of her was tensed, his back straight. In his hand, he held a long, silver knife. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room.
She shuddered at the small light show, knowing what that knife was for.
Her heart pounded within her chest and she found it hard to breath with the panic that was overtaking her. When she turned her eyes just seconds later to meet her brother’s, she found he was looking ahead at the monster in front of him.
She watched in horror, screaming into her gag uselessly as the knife raised high in the air. The light reflected off it in a shocking flash of brightness. For just a moment, it seemed to still in the mid-air.
Oh my God! Please! You have to help my brother! Lord, please, save him! The silent prayer echoed in her mind as her screams muffled hotly against the gag in her mouth, almost choking her.
This was not the way it was supposed to go! Evil was NOT supposed to win! She closed her eyes as the knife started a quick descent.
She couldn’t watch this.
She couldn’t watch her brother die.
***********************************
Andy felt the most insistent need to hurry and followed his instincts. Braced against the inside of a back hallway within the barn, he took quick assessment. No one was left in what appeared to be a cell along this wall, and the only other way to go was down another hallway.
He could feel the charge in the air even before he rounded the corner. This was the only direction available, and he somehow knew it was the way he must go.
Heart heavy, thumping heavily against inside of his chest, he moved down the hallway swiftly. The door to a large room, or chamber of sorts, was cracked several inches, allowing Andy a glimpse of ominous flickering lights.
He carefully eased the door open, an inch at a time. He needn’t have bothered being careful, as the occupants of the room were all riveted by the man standing in front of the small table, arm raised.
The charge within the room was lifting the air, causing the slightest wind to gather. He felt his skin tingle and goose bumps rise. Larkin held a long, silver knife in his raised hand. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room. For one mesmerizing moment, the light was blinding as it reflected brilliantly. Andy blinked, sure he saw something more substantial in the bright light. But then it was gone.
And in the split second between decision and indecision, Andy knew what he had to do. He had to protect the boy. He had to protect the key. He knew that Larkin had completed the incantation by the relaxed way he held his shoulders, when just seconds before they had been tensed.
In a moment of clarity Andy knew it wouldn’t be enough to take out Larkin, as he could make out the black mass swirling just beyond the man in the darkness and flickering light.
He pushed himself to move as the knife started its downward descent. Lord, I hope this is the right thing to do. Give me strength and be with us, Lord.
His quiet prayer joined others as he ran across the room, leaping across the table to cover the child there. He felt the knife as it impaled high up in the middle of his back and braced himself as best he could.
The pain drifted away as he sought Bobby’s eyes. He was at an awkward angle, but he could still meet the shocked gaze of his little friend. He could also feel the tingling sensation as he started to drift. He reached one arm up swiftly and yanked at the gag in the child’s mouth.
“You . . . have to . . .use those words now . . . the extra special wor . . .” He kept his elbows propped now as he felt the strength leave his body. He met Bobby’s eyes even as he lost the ability to focus completely, willing the boy to understand.
With a look of complete understanding, the boy opened his mouth, and ancient words poured forth. A soft sigh echoed as he succumbed finally to the darkness.
********************************************
Larkin watched the sickening display and screamed in anger. How in the world did the damn pastor get in here. He was ruining his plans!
He turned, hands to his head, as he glared back at the pastor’s limp form again. Well, shit.
So much for his perfect sacrifice.
Suddenly, though, he realized something. He had finished his incantation! Asmodai! He whirled around, looked down to ensure the circle was still intact, and then studied the room more closely.
He didn’t notice the black mist until it was upon him, but he welcomed it, throwing his arms up and grinning in joy as evil invaded his body.
***********************************
The demon descended upon his waiting host, reveling in the human’s already dark mind. He expanded within, throwing himself into overtaking mind and body. The demon stopped abruptly, considering the weak mind he had invaded.
The one he inhabited had summoned him for a reason. He entered the private recesses of his host, determined to understand this one.
“You wish revenge?”
“Oh yes, Master.” Although the man’s devotion was satisfying, his weakness was disgusting. The weak human cowered within his own mind. Asmodai felt for the man’s memories and pulled them close. He stared at the man in amazement.
“You think I would grant one such as you my powers? That I would happily remain in this weak body and in such a weak host? You fool!” In a rush of anger, he took over, sending the man screaming further into the recesses of his mind. Larkin would never find the way out of his mind. Satisfied, he returned to the task at hand. Power. He craved it.
And while the fool was an idiot of the highest regard, he had arranged a treat a hungry demon just could not ignore. He situated himself more fully, more comfortably, within the human body. Turning, he reveled in the moment, studying the scene in front of him. A bloody body was strewn over this table.
While he felt a source of power behind him, he was more interested in the human on the other table. He walked over the few steps until he could peer into the man’s eyes. Satisfying. He wouldn’t have needed the symbol etched on this one’s chest to find him. He almost inhaled the essence that was this one. He devoured the man with his eyes, eager to pull his power from him.
The man met his eyes unflinchingly. He yelled something through the gag, his face a stunning display of anger. Amused, he ripped the gag from the man’s mouth.
“You would fight even though it is clear who is stronger?” He studied the young man. There was something about him.
“Go to hell.” The flippant response amused him further.
“I’ve been there, thank you. It’s a little warm for me.” He leaned closer to this one. The strength radiated off him in waves. And something else. He lifted an eyebrow, reaching a hand over to place on the young one’s forehead. Raw power. Yes! This one would be a fitting host for him. But first he needed to weaken him further.
As he pulled some of the essence from the human, he felt the man push back mentally. The strength of it recoiled against him almost physically. He situated himself and placed both hands now on the man’s forehead. But something shifted in the atmosphere of the room, stilling his movements.
He peered around the chamber, not finding the source of his discomfort, and turned back to the man. He grinned down at him.
“This might hurt. But soon enough, you won’t feel anything.” He leaned closer to the man, pinning him to the table with a soft stare, as he again moved his hands into position on his forehead. The man arched on the table, screaming, as he began pulling his essence from him. He had warned him it might hurt. Just as he was about to push further, gaining access to the man’s mind, he felt something more insistent in the air around him.
Again, he stilled, looking around the room for the source of his discomfort. After several moments, he realized what human eyes could not tell him. His senses felt a small one hidden . . . there. He strode to the other table, tossing the large body from the table easily. He gaped at the boy on the table.
Blood covered his torso, but he lived. His dark eyes peered up into nothing, steady and pure. He almost glowed in his innocence.
Oh my! Now here was a true prize. And the idiot within this mind had thought to sacrifice this one instead of offering the little one to him properly. His gaze narrowed. There was something else about this one. Not just innocence.
What was that he was whispering? He leaned closer, recoiling in pain and shock as the words hit him like a solid punch to the gut. He stepped back slightly and scanned the little one more carefully. He was special indeed. How did one so small know the ancient words?
His eyes widened as it hit him. He searched the memories of the idiot he inhabited to learn more. To find out for sure. And as he searched those memories, he knew for sure.
He had found an actual key.
How had he not sensed him earlier?
Bracing himself for the pain of contact, he placed a hand on the little one’s forehead. The pain hit him fully in the gut, but the innocence trumped it. The little one was chock full of innocence. Oh, how it fed him. Fed his desire. Fed his power. The little one still whispered as he drew his essence from him. Still whispered. Amazing. He should be weakened by now and yet he still whispered.
The words were potent.
They burned.
He withdrew.
“Leave him alone!” The other. The one with raw power, true essence. He gazed at him, no longer amused by his attitude. “He’s just a boy! Leave him alone, don’t hurt him!”
He walked over the slight space to stare at the dark haired one, Sam. He bored his eyes into the man’s head, immensely satisfied by the gasp of pain as the pressure built there.
“What . . . do you . . . want . . . with him? He’s just a little boy!” He was astounded. Did no one realize what this little one was?
“The one is not just a little boy, you idiot! He is the key!”
“The key?” The man looked at him like he was crazy. Idiot. Imbecile. They had no clue.
“His death within the circle is the key to the veil.” He studied the man, walking ever closer, almost intimately. “The key will hold it open. Allow even more of my brethren through. We can ready our side for the war of wars as we build our army.”
“He’s just a little boy!” The man was shaking his head. He dared question him? He whipped an arm out to slap the man’s face. The force behind the blow threw his head to the side.
Raising a hand to encompass the young man’s forehead once more, his rage compelled him to seek retribution. He sought the man’s essence, but found himself pushed backwards physically. He staggered backwards, stunned.
This one’s power was stronger than he first thought. Even weakened and unaware of his full power, he was able to repel him. He stared at him, studying the dark eyes. He shifted his head, staring into the eyes. Turning his head to the other side, he penetrated the deep green depths, drilling into the mind there.
He continued boring into the man’s mind, excited when he heard the lone scream pierce the air around him.
A sudden sharp pain on his borrowed backside caused him to abruptly stop his assault.
He turned around, eyes wide and body tensed furiously, to face the threat. As he turned, he was hit full in the face with more of the burning liquid. The piercing eyes of a stranger stared him down. More of the liquid followed, causing him to twist away in pain before pulling himself up proudly to stand before this mere human.
This mere human who was staring daggers at him and poised to fight; who carried himself with the bearing a true hunter and protector.
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!”
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: The ritual has begun and a sacrifice is offered.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc.
Chapter 19 - “Sacrifice”
Shadows danced across the room.
Dark mixed with light in a mesmerizing symphony, each fighting for control in the open space.
The air was still, as if waiting. Just as they were all - waiting: hardly daring to breathe; waiting for this nightmare to begin. The drum of his own heartbeat strained against his chest as he watched the horrifying show unfold.
Maybe it was the flickering of the candlelight, but Larkin’s movements seemed jerky, controlled, and deliberate. He was across the room, so Sam couldn’t make out the words he was mumbling to himself in a forceful mantra.
Eyes closed and head reclined back, Larkin’s face flickered in a dark expression of ecstasy. When again he opened his eyes, their deep blue was startling in their intensity. Sam found himself tensed, pulling uselessly against the bonds that held him cruelly to the table.
His eyes swung to the other occupants of this hell. Bobby’s deep brown eyes were watching in detached fascination. His face was calm, almost peaceful. He looked like he was in his own world. For that, Sam was grateful.
He’d watched as the big man brought Annie in several moments ago. She was so still he thought for sure she was unconscious, but her eyes had blinked open as she was seated on the floor, seeking out her brother.
He watched her now, studying the way the flickering light danced across her pale features, accentuating bruises and highlighting the burning fear deep in her eyes. As if she felt his eyes on her, she turned her head slightly and met his gaze. The resolve in her eyes took him by surprise.
Maybe it was because she looked so broken.
In fact, looking at her sitting there, weakly held up against the wall, head listing to rest there as well, one would think she was out for the count. But her eyes - they spoke of a different story. The determination was intense, and her brown eyes were deep pools of it.
Sam wished he could tell her to stay strong. In Bobby’s words, to be brave. As if she heard his silent wish, she inclined her head toward him slightly before again turning towards her brother.
His eyes drew back to Bobby as well, as he sensed a change within the room. Bobby must have sensed it as well, because he tensed, eyes roving about frantically before finally resting on his sister.
The charge within the room lifted the air, causing the slightest wind to gather. He felt his skin tingle and goose bumps rise. He strained against his bonds uselessly as he took in the sight of Larkin’s excited countenance. Their captor stood in front of Bobby, gazing down at his prize in detached fascination. In his hand, he held a long, silver knife. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room.
He screamed through the gag, wishing desperately for a miracle. Hell, I’ll pray for a miracle right about now, God. Seriously, dude. Just save Bobby.
*************************************
Annie watched the proceedings with mounting fury. Righteous anger made her shake, but her pained and exhausted body was numb by now to its torment.
There just wasn’t enough time.
She couldn’t place the knife behind her bound wrists, instead fumbling, and cut her wrists several times. She watched the macabre scene before her in horror.
The shadows dancing around the room seemed to radiate the very fight between good and evil about to ensue. Dark mixed with light in a mesmerizing symphony, each fighting for control. Annie closed her eyes.
The still air accentuated her position, forced to watch from her place on the floor. She could just make out her brother’s face. She was relieved to see that he seemed to be blocking this out.
She bore holes through the back of the man in between her and her brother, stopping as she felt other eyes on her. She barely turned her head, flicking her eyes to see Sam for the first time. She acknowledged him, understood the feeling of helplessness written plainly on his face.
She wished she could tell him to just be brave, it would be okay. She registered his resolve, holding it close to her. If there was a way to get out of this, he would find it. Or maybe she could. But not without a little help.
She sensed the change in the air. Bobby must have sensed it too, she felt his eyes collide with hers as she struggled not to panic because of the fear hidden within those brown depths. Her sweet brother! He didn’t deserve this. Tears gathered and burned trails down her cheeks as she held her brother’s gaze, wishing desperately she could infuse him with strength.
She felt the slightest wind as a charge within the room lifted the air. She let her gaze wander fleetingly from her brother. Noticed that the man in front of her was tensed, his back straight. In his hand, he held a long, silver knife. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room.
She shuddered at the small light show, knowing what that knife was for.
Her heart pounded within her chest and she found it hard to breath with the panic that was overtaking her. When she turned her eyes just seconds later to meet her brother’s, she found he was looking ahead at the monster in front of him.
She watched in horror, screaming into her gag uselessly as the knife raised high in the air. The light reflected off it in a shocking flash of brightness. For just a moment, it seemed to still in the mid-air.
Oh my God! Please! You have to help my brother! Lord, please, save him! The silent prayer echoed in her mind as her screams muffled hotly against the gag in her mouth, almost choking her.
This was not the way it was supposed to go! Evil was NOT supposed to win! She closed her eyes as the knife started a quick descent.
She couldn’t watch this.
She couldn’t watch her brother die.
***********************************
Andy felt the most insistent need to hurry and followed his instincts. Braced against the inside of a back hallway within the barn, he took quick assessment. No one was left in what appeared to be a cell along this wall, and the only other way to go was down another hallway.
He could feel the charge in the air even before he rounded the corner. This was the only direction available, and he somehow knew it was the way he must go.
Heart heavy, thumping heavily against inside of his chest, he moved down the hallway swiftly. The door to a large room, or chamber of sorts, was cracked several inches, allowing Andy a glimpse of ominous flickering lights.
He carefully eased the door open, an inch at a time. He needn’t have bothered being careful, as the occupants of the room were all riveted by the man standing in front of the small table, arm raised.
The charge within the room was lifting the air, causing the slightest wind to gather. He felt his skin tingle and goose bumps rise. Larkin held a long, silver knife in his raised hand. The lights danced off the metal, tossing arcs of light around the room. For one mesmerizing moment, the light was blinding as it reflected brilliantly. Andy blinked, sure he saw something more substantial in the bright light. But then it was gone.
And in the split second between decision and indecision, Andy knew what he had to do. He had to protect the boy. He had to protect the key. He knew that Larkin had completed the incantation by the relaxed way he held his shoulders, when just seconds before they had been tensed.
In a moment of clarity Andy knew it wouldn’t be enough to take out Larkin, as he could make out the black mass swirling just beyond the man in the darkness and flickering light.
He pushed himself to move as the knife started its downward descent. Lord, I hope this is the right thing to do. Give me strength and be with us, Lord.
His quiet prayer joined others as he ran across the room, leaping across the table to cover the child there. He felt the knife as it impaled high up in the middle of his back and braced himself as best he could.
The pain drifted away as he sought Bobby’s eyes. He was at an awkward angle, but he could still meet the shocked gaze of his little friend. He could also feel the tingling sensation as he started to drift. He reached one arm up swiftly and yanked at the gag in the child’s mouth.
“You . . . have to . . .use those words now . . . the extra special wor . . .” He kept his elbows propped now as he felt the strength leave his body. He met Bobby’s eyes even as he lost the ability to focus completely, willing the boy to understand.
With a look of complete understanding, the boy opened his mouth, and ancient words poured forth. A soft sigh echoed as he succumbed finally to the darkness.
********************************************
Larkin watched the sickening display and screamed in anger. How in the world did the damn pastor get in here. He was ruining his plans!
He turned, hands to his head, as he glared back at the pastor’s limp form again. Well, shit.
So much for his perfect sacrifice.
Suddenly, though, he realized something. He had finished his incantation! Asmodai! He whirled around, looked down to ensure the circle was still intact, and then studied the room more closely.
He didn’t notice the black mist until it was upon him, but he welcomed it, throwing his arms up and grinning in joy as evil invaded his body.
***********************************
The demon descended upon his waiting host, reveling in the human’s already dark mind. He expanded within, throwing himself into overtaking mind and body. The demon stopped abruptly, considering the weak mind he had invaded.
The one he inhabited had summoned him for a reason. He entered the private recesses of his host, determined to understand this one.
“You wish revenge?”
“Oh yes, Master.” Although the man’s devotion was satisfying, his weakness was disgusting. The weak human cowered within his own mind. Asmodai felt for the man’s memories and pulled them close. He stared at the man in amazement.
“You think I would grant one such as you my powers? That I would happily remain in this weak body and in such a weak host? You fool!” In a rush of anger, he took over, sending the man screaming further into the recesses of his mind. Larkin would never find the way out of his mind. Satisfied, he returned to the task at hand. Power. He craved it.
And while the fool was an idiot of the highest regard, he had arranged a treat a hungry demon just could not ignore. He situated himself more fully, more comfortably, within the human body. Turning, he reveled in the moment, studying the scene in front of him. A bloody body was strewn over this table.
While he felt a source of power behind him, he was more interested in the human on the other table. He walked over the few steps until he could peer into the man’s eyes. Satisfying. He wouldn’t have needed the symbol etched on this one’s chest to find him. He almost inhaled the essence that was this one. He devoured the man with his eyes, eager to pull his power from him.
The man met his eyes unflinchingly. He yelled something through the gag, his face a stunning display of anger. Amused, he ripped the gag from the man’s mouth.
“You would fight even though it is clear who is stronger?” He studied the young man. There was something about him.
“Go to hell.” The flippant response amused him further.
“I’ve been there, thank you. It’s a little warm for me.” He leaned closer to this one. The strength radiated off him in waves. And something else. He lifted an eyebrow, reaching a hand over to place on the young one’s forehead. Raw power. Yes! This one would be a fitting host for him. But first he needed to weaken him further.
As he pulled some of the essence from the human, he felt the man push back mentally. The strength of it recoiled against him almost physically. He situated himself and placed both hands now on the man’s forehead. But something shifted in the atmosphere of the room, stilling his movements.
He peered around the chamber, not finding the source of his discomfort, and turned back to the man. He grinned down at him.
“This might hurt. But soon enough, you won’t feel anything.” He leaned closer to the man, pinning him to the table with a soft stare, as he again moved his hands into position on his forehead. The man arched on the table, screaming, as he began pulling his essence from him. He had warned him it might hurt. Just as he was about to push further, gaining access to the man’s mind, he felt something more insistent in the air around him.
Again, he stilled, looking around the room for the source of his discomfort. After several moments, he realized what human eyes could not tell him. His senses felt a small one hidden . . . there. He strode to the other table, tossing the large body from the table easily. He gaped at the boy on the table.
Blood covered his torso, but he lived. His dark eyes peered up into nothing, steady and pure. He almost glowed in his innocence.
Oh my! Now here was a true prize. And the idiot within this mind had thought to sacrifice this one instead of offering the little one to him properly. His gaze narrowed. There was something else about this one. Not just innocence.
What was that he was whispering? He leaned closer, recoiling in pain and shock as the words hit him like a solid punch to the gut. He stepped back slightly and scanned the little one more carefully. He was special indeed. How did one so small know the ancient words?
His eyes widened as it hit him. He searched the memories of the idiot he inhabited to learn more. To find out for sure. And as he searched those memories, he knew for sure.
He had found an actual key.
How had he not sensed him earlier?
Bracing himself for the pain of contact, he placed a hand on the little one’s forehead. The pain hit him fully in the gut, but the innocence trumped it. The little one was chock full of innocence. Oh, how it fed him. Fed his desire. Fed his power. The little one still whispered as he drew his essence from him. Still whispered. Amazing. He should be weakened by now and yet he still whispered.
The words were potent.
They burned.
He withdrew.
“Leave him alone!” The other. The one with raw power, true essence. He gazed at him, no longer amused by his attitude. “He’s just a boy! Leave him alone, don’t hurt him!”
He walked over the slight space to stare at the dark haired one, Sam. He bored his eyes into the man’s head, immensely satisfied by the gasp of pain as the pressure built there.
“What . . . do you . . . want . . . with him? He’s just a little boy!” He was astounded. Did no one realize what this little one was?
“The one is not just a little boy, you idiot! He is the key!”
“The key?” The man looked at him like he was crazy. Idiot. Imbecile. They had no clue.
“His death within the circle is the key to the veil.” He studied the man, walking ever closer, almost intimately. “The key will hold it open. Allow even more of my brethren through. We can ready our side for the war of wars as we build our army.”
“He’s just a little boy!” The man was shaking his head. He dared question him? He whipped an arm out to slap the man’s face. The force behind the blow threw his head to the side.
Raising a hand to encompass the young man’s forehead once more, his rage compelled him to seek retribution. He sought the man’s essence, but found himself pushed backwards physically. He staggered backwards, stunned.
This one’s power was stronger than he first thought. Even weakened and unaware of his full power, he was able to repel him. He stared at him, studying the dark eyes. He shifted his head, staring into the eyes. Turning his head to the other side, he penetrated the deep green depths, drilling into the mind there.
He continued boring into the man’s mind, excited when he heard the lone scream pierce the air around him.
A sudden sharp pain on his borrowed backside caused him to abruptly stop his assault.
He turned around, eyes wide and body tensed furiously, to face the threat. As he turned, he was hit full in the face with more of the burning liquid. The piercing eyes of a stranger stared him down. More of the liquid followed, causing him to twist away in pain before pulling himself up proudly to stand before this mere human.
This mere human who was staring daggers at him and poised to fight; who carried himself with the bearing a true hunter and protector.
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!”